I am up before the owl. This week will be another crazy week. I am teaching Greek Legends which I love but have no curriculum for and then I have a mosaic class with wonderful things like 20 hammers.

I finished the biggest grant of the bunch yesterday, so much for thinking this wouldn’t be a lot of work. Who knew they’d ask a poet for a five page budget? It is funny how everything leads into another. I use to think submissions were difficult and then I began the manuscript and well, it became as easy as pie. Now I am back to thinking all I want now, is to send off my book and not be asked to add or multiply.

It would be so nice to have one romantic ideal left about being a writer. The porch swing is gone, the cabin in the words, the endless coffee and discussion of Dickenson’s use of metaphor and it is replaced with well, I suppose reality. Reality sucks.