It’s raining for the first time since I planted seedlings.
I woke up at eight this morning, and before having a cup of coffee, cleaned all the dishes, the literbox, the back room, watered the garden some and potted seeds. I ran water through the coffee maker, because it jammed up yesterday and I was too lazy to fix it.
Last week I attended the Association of Writers and Poets annual conference, commonly referred to as AWP. On the road to Minneapolis I was reminded how remarkable dull early April’s color palette can be. Indiana was a bed of fog cascading from South Bend to Gary. My friend and I talked about alien sightings, and I divulged that I had seen one too many television specials and Youtube videos on the subject.