January 21, 2019

Brilliant moon on snow through the night. Circe climbed back into bed and we had our first sleep together since her sickness.

In fact taking over Ann’s American Lit. Her syllabus is as far as can be imagined from what I would do, so I must spend part of my MLK day figuring that out. Part of it too must go to dealing with the plumbers, who warn that they might be tramping through the house all day. I’m like some burrowing rodent from Wind in the Willows, hating upheaval and disorder so much.

Cleaned out the pond and the drain, oddly unable to remember if the water was cold. The world is cold now. The radio says it’s 11 degrees F outside my door. I think of those bulbs from Eden Brothers, hidden in the earth just in time.