From Peggy at Simple Woman’s Daybook.
Outside my window… the wind is howling around the corners of my building. The snow from last night has returned and dances down to the ground in swirling flakes.
I am thinking… about my family (still visiting but leaving tomorrow), the start of a new semester in a week, and babies.
I am thankful for… dinner last night. R and I went for a cozy, warm Sunday night dinner at our parish priest’s house. He and his family live in a renovated Victorian house in a historic district nearby. The conversation was great, the candles elegant, the shining mahogany enviable.
I am wearing… jeans. Since I don’t have to teach today, it’s casual day!
I am remembering… an old friend living overseas, with whom I’ve not been able to get in touch. Blessings to you, dear one.
I am going… to be extremely careful driving home. Almost slid into oncoming traffic today, as the roads are covered with ice.
I am currently reading… Salman Rushdie’s latest, The Temptress of Venice. So far, horribly cheesy histrionic revisionism. But I’d pay just to watch Rushdie’s paint dry, so I’ll give this one a fighting chance.
I am hoping… for a new baby. Wednesday Ob/Gyn appointment!
On my mind… problem students. Syllabi. Textbooks. I KNOW- and it’s not even January!
Noticing that… I am a better person and friend when I choose my words carefully, and use few. See below:
Pondering these words…
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
(Billy Collins, Introduction to Poetry).
From the kitchen… came, this morning, the mournful sound of the coffeemaker, sputtering into disgruntled action.
Around the house… is the detrius of Christmas past. I don’t think I’ll ever get the house clean.
One of my favorite things… warmth.