Now Playing: one of my mainstays to sleep by, YouTube shorts: https://youtube.com/shorts/gXxfoCrN0UU?si=2_ocu1RRto7hqXff Look at that mid-century atomic glassware (starbursts and boomerangs)!
No, WR. No! You do not need more glassware, says Stanley, the AI who is tired AF of helping declutter.

Weekends can blur. Between reading, writing poems, doing household projects, decorating…they fly by.
Let’s slow it down by noticing.
I’ve read ¾ of the newest Grisham novel, The Widow. I’m enjoying it except there is one person no one is questioning about a murder who should be questioned and that’s driving me a little bonkers…classic Grisham.
Yesterday I finished reading a poetry craft book as well, which inspired three or four poems while I read it. I did have to laugh because she suggests an ekphrastic generative exercise and I’m like, Ma’am, my entire body of work is ekphrastic. And that’s not much of an exaggeration.
In submitting news, I was on the fence about submitting to a contest but (and this was purely the algorithm) they knocked on my email’s door twice and said, “Hey, you started submitting but you stopped? There’s only a day left…” and so I thought why not. They have a unique twist and I’ll leave it at that but it’s kinda a fun one.
Sometimes it feels like joyful aerial work, tossing your work out there, wondering if a publication will catch you or if you will end up back at your platform. Either way, you’re safe. (I don’t have any trapeze experience, but I think?)
At any rate, I guess you can add “responds to algorithms so she won’t hurt their feelings” to my CV. Word Raccoon is laughing with a gingersnap between her paws.
She complained bitterly when I told her we were reading Saturday night, not going out, not writing. We did finish swapping out the hangers in my closet, and I even found a few more things to pass along. The new rule: if it doesn’t fit on a hanger or in a clothing bin, something has to go. That’s a long way of saying one in, one out.
I’m bristling at the idea, let alone WR….but I will try.
Saturday evening I did take a reading break enough to let her write a few poems:
“Pop Fly”
“Spanish Armada”
“It’s Coming from Inside the House”
“Question of the Day”
“Hang it Up”
“Squirming”
After “The Beast in Me”
“Pearls Before”
This weekend I also hung inexpensive artwork in the upstairs bath (I spotted it at our local thrift shop three weeks ago, took pics of it to see if I could “convince” the color to work with the lavender walls. What? You can use pops of color in small spaces.), and one fell down. Because I need to buy nails and not overrely on sticky hooks and we know better but sometimes I cannot resist just doing the thing though I did acknowledge to WR that it was heavy enough that it might fall.
BTW, When I went back to the thrift shop after three weeks, yay me, and the pair of paintings were still there, I bought them. That’s how you avoid an impulse buy. Allegedly.
Also, I hung artwork in the dungeon bathroom yesterday, two small pieces I’ve had for a while, and they, ironically, are still staying in place.
Oh, and WR and I had the BEST idea! We want to find a statue for the dungeon bathroom!! How fun would that be? IDK what it would look like, or where I might find one, but I’m in!
WR and I also finished decorating for Valentine’s Day. Now that my dear children are grown, I am free to decorate like a second grade school teacher and no one will make (affectionate) fun of me.
Yes, I was the mom who made the heart-shaped waffles.
The stairs are now strung with felt hearts. The sofa is filled with pillows with vintage Valentine’s Day card prints on them. Barry hung the lights in the dining room archway.
Last night brought an acceptance note for a poem of mine, “Vincent in His Brother’s Arms,” about their grave. It has an end that punches. Many thanks to Two Children who are giving it a home in their inaugural issue, which I always find extra special. Publication date TBD.
Today has been poetry admin so far and I tweaked a couple of poems. I revised some of my novel.
But it’s not the weekend, so why am I still writing?