Overnight, another six inches of snow. How quiet it is this morning, still the soft sift of so many tiny snowflakes.
Over coffee, I wandered through several seed catalogs. Plump beefsteak tomatoes, bigger than a bread basket, perfectly shaped hassocks-- cradle with two hands pressed up against your chest. I can almost smell their fragrance of sun and wind and rain. I can't believe I'm getting ready for another season of hard work. I imagine, by the time the good weather arrives, I will be ready to spend time in the gardens. Most often, it's a healing time. A time to think quietly while planting all those delicate beginnings.
On Friday, I renewed my library card in Hamlin, but had to go to Brockport to pick up what I wanted. Once there, I found Russell Banks's latest collection of short stories, A Permanent Member of the Family. I scooped it up. I have three weeks to read this sandwiched in between grading papers. I'm so looking forward to relishing each story. He is such a gorgeous writer. When I saw him read in early December ( an incredible evening. Thank you SUNY Brockport Writers Forum!), I felt so inspired by the way he incorporated his writer's craft in his introductions of the stories he chose to read to us. I love being read to, too. Often I wish I could just follow an author, reading to reading, and hopefully hear the whole book. It's never actually happened, but with a couple of writers in our area, I have heard a lot of their (novel, essay & short story collections). I love having their voices in my head when I'm reading on my own.
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