February 17, 2010

Ash Wednesday.

Tatters of flying snow over condensed ice-snow on the ground.

Went to Ash Wednesday services, determined to take Lent seriously this year, or, as my bitter twin would say, to emphasize this bit of the unending Lent. The bishop preached. He looks like a boy.

The university has awarded me Professional Development Leave for the fall. I pushed so hard for this, spat out such bitter recrimination at its denial in the past, that when the letter came I didn’t know what to do. Take a deep breath. Make it count.

Obsessed with the Olympics, trying to decide if I would have taken up snowboarding if such a thing existed when I was young enough. Syracuse would have been perfect.

I look behind me as if there were ghosts in the room. I’ve lived here so long they could be nobody but me.