I've made it, almost, to the end of an odd week.
I've left behind a couple of things and almost did it a third time.
Amongst a lot of other concerns, the green-eyed monster was stalking me, which is unfortunately a constant in poetryworld. I was naively trying not to see it approaching ... Best to walk away sometimes. In the past, I've tended to stick around for too long. I'm learning and hope I'll get the picture when I grow up.
Also had to dodge the poo-rile. Kind of got boring, if you know what I mean.
Someone said to me, sort of in context: "Boys complaining like they want mummy to cook something nicer for them give me homocidal twinges!"
The weather has been far too hot - it's just rong, r-o-n-g rong - but is now cooling, I hope for the duration of autumn into winter.
I have a few days off and already things of enjoyment lined up.
And planning new directions.
And poems to make and do.