3 miles

It is finished. The HP. I managed to stay up until 4:45am Saturday, work, and finish by 7pm I'm offerring nothing--no review, no opinions, no nothing--for at least a week. And Mom and Dad if you need more time (which given the tower of books you both have in your "to read" pile) I'll refrain even longer.

My head is chock full this morning. Local cheeses and butters, handcranked letterpresses, knitting, gardening and canning, reading Hemingway next or not, finally finishing up the last of the editing on my done pile of poetry, to submit to journals or not, am I really going to be able to pull of a half this fall, being poor, my typewriter, curtains for my big windows, letters that need to be written, bills that need to be paid, the G&T, to go to Wheatland or not, and birds. Always birds.

My weekend was a bit of a blur. I held a 6 week old baby Friday morning. Slept until 8:30pm Friday night. Waited around until midnight. Got my book and read. And read. And read. And worked. And read. And read. And went to supper. And read. Went to an opening at the Ark. Went to the Sandbar. And slept. And slept. And slept. Made a delicious lunch. Talked to my neighbor. Read the paper. Ate a delicious supper. Talked about HP.

And slept. And slept. And slept.