Bitter cold descended upon us overnight. Gone are the 60 degree January days we knew were too good to be true. Last night it was single digits. We had a touch of snow, but even that was scant and chased away by the cold.
Last night I managed to get three more poems off bringing my total submissions for the year to date at 13.
The mail has come, no rejections - only a utility bill, the latest Poets & Writers and a slew of junk mail, catalogues and material mostly for my daughters. My wife lamented no mail. I reminded her no mail can be a good thing.
My daughter picked up a couple of books for me last night as some discount book store. The Night Abraham Called To The Stars by Robert Bly, and Augusten Burroughs book, Running with Scissors. I've been wanting to read this book for some time. It will have to wait however for me to finish my current read.
That is it for now, I'm off to clean in my office.