But. Day before yesterday I tried to begin a new short piece, which presently is called "Shutter," though I'm looking for a better title. Yesterday, I wrote 1,129 words. That's by far the best writing day I've had since finishing "The Peddler's Tale, or Isobel's Revenge," back on December 29th.
Yesterday, the signature sheets for the Centipede Press edition of The Drowning Girl: A Memoir were delivered. Now, I have to sign them. Oh, I've not announced this: Elizabeth Hand is doing an introduction for this edition.
Tuesday's snow is still on the ground. There was a dusting last night. Currently, it's 19˚F here in Providence, and the windchill's 2˚F. Bitter. Deathly. I loathe these days. Ah, but we have sun. We have a blue sky. Today on Facebook Little Annie wrote, "Cold sun is creepy – makes buildings look like a prison stuck in an ice canyon. If the devil has blue eyes they are the same shade of blue as the sky is today." Yes, that's what I mean.
I've never felt as completely isolated from the World as I feel in this moment. I've not gone out since Tuesday night, when I was outside in the snow for about five minutes.
Oh, but I have a 16lb. cat. That counts for something.
Today's is the tenth anniversary of the Opportunity rover. Designed for a three-month mission, still going strong.
I'm utterly in love with Gillian Welch. And I want to be in Alabama.
Oh, I dream a highway back to you, love.
A winding ribbon with a band of gold.
A silver vision come and rest my soul.
I dream a highway back to you. ~ Gillian Welch
Photograph Copyright © 2014 by Kathryn A. Pollnac