First, thanks to Sage for his insightful review of Write With Fire. Much appreciated. The book is getting a fair number of reviews, so far all good ones!
Work is kicking my ass and I’m way behind. So, it’s standard operating procedure for first thing in the new semester. I’m keeping my head above water so far, although with the pouring rain outside at the moment I don’t know how long that will last.
Lana seems to be almost completely recovered from her surgery. She’s already feeling much better than she was before so I’m happy about that.
While listening to the rain and helping students, in the background I’m running “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” by T. S. Eliot. If this isn’t a masterpiece then I don’t know what is. I wish I could write a poem this fine.
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep."
No time to write poetry now, though. The students are coming, hungry for overrides, in need of schedules, wanting me to fix all their problems with a few taps of my fingers on the keyboard.
And guess what: The electricity just went kaput! Better save this before the laptop battery loses its charge.
I’ll post this when our current returns!