Confession Tuesday

Tie up time is now, kids!
Happy Tuesday, folks. Time to confess. Share a little of yourselves and we promise to do the same.

(Boy, do I have lots to confess!)


Last week I was all happy happy, joy joy. This week, not so much. Well, that's not completely true, but pretty close. Life has a way of giving me a gut-check when I least expect it.

First, I missed my reading last week at the Collected Poets Series. I had been looking forward to it for months, but I had a oil leak right before I hit the road. I believe it is the only time I've canceled on a reading. My apologies to series cofounder Marie Gauthier and Martha Rhodes, who was also reading that night.

Also, I've been dealing with a lot of minor kid issues, one of which has been a particular pain. Nothing serious, but it does require my full attention to keep the house clean, wash or replace sheets and towels, and daily hair combing. (If you know what I'm talking about, let's not talk about it.)



We did manage to make it to my reading at the Plymouth Center for the Arts for the Art of Words: The Mike Amado Memorial Poetry Series. I read with J.D. Scrimgeour--it's always a pleasure to share the stage with him. During the open mic portion--to my surprise--my daughter got up and recited "We Real Cool". It was a very dramatic recitation (read: she paused so long in the beginning I thought she forgot the words.) But she did it and it was awesome!

Every once in a while the kids come with me to a reading. At ages, 9 and 7, they are just too squirmy to bring to every reading. But this one was nice because after the event, we were able to look around historic Plymouth. Didn't see the Mayflower but did manage to tour a colonial home, and see Plymouth Rock.

Plymouth Rock. Used to be a lot bigger.


As for writing, I am trying to get back on track. No new poems to speak of, but I am revising, trying to organize my projects for the summer.

This past week reminded me how hard it is to be a single parent: no one to share the responsibilities or decision-making. Oh well. I handled it. We got through it.


Anonymous said…
Whenever I think of Plymouth Rock, I hear the Malcolm in my head proclaiming: We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, the rock landed on US!
January said…
Me, too. I just didn't add it to this post. :)

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