mimsy and outgrabe

One of my poems from the Summer 2012 issue of The Gettysburg Review appears on their website as a past selection! I'm not sure how long it will last there, but for now I'm kinda chuffed.

This has been a daunting week in many ways . . . and yes, it's only Tuesday.  I guess it feels like my week hasn't really ended, or that my *weeks* haven't really ended, since I've been on "go" mode for most of three weeks, ever since the hurricane hit and my husband disappeared into an endless cycle of overtime. I know that he's the one out there doing the physical labor, but I'm exhausted. It's not like my daily duties increased *so* much since A. began working this schedule . . . I mean, usually we cook dinner *together* and he's around to play bad cop to my lame, ineffectual cop with the kids . . . but other than that, I'm pretty much the lead when it comes to getting them ready for school and then later getting them ready for bed, and I do much of the shuttling between school and after school activities, too. But not having him around as much -- we see each other for about 20 minutes in the morning and an hour or so at night -- t

I am, of course, just kidding. But there is a very real chance I will not survive this week's deadlines at school and the onslaught of "ANSWER ME NOW" emails. I'm just giving ya'll a heads up. xoxo Sarah

I persist in thinking that I'm going to accomplish a lot every morning when I wake up, even though my body persists in thwarting my endeavors each day. For instance, yesterday I assumed that I was going to tackle the bags and bags of "give away" clothes that are piled in our basement, and finally separate the girls clothes and put them away for future use (because we found out on Tuesday that we're having a little girl in March -- much to The Boy's chagrin and Little Miss Talkalot's ecstatic, shrieking joy). However, after spending the morning vacuuming up about four lbs of dog hair from the first floor alone, and then attending Little Miss Talkalot's last soccer game of the season, followed by a victory lunch at McDonald's (a rare treat from Mommy) and a quick trip to the grocery store, I was completely, utterly wrecked. Done. I had not one ounce of energy left in me. So when The Boy went for his nap, so did I -- and The Girl quietly and happily veg

Well, today is a wash. I stayed up far too late drafting an email for work, while simultaneously watching NBC's election coverage (hugely entertainingly) and posting ridiculous comments on Facebook. And eating far too much Halloween candy for a pregnant woman (I'm going to have to go on a sugar-fast for the next few days to avoid gestational diabetes, I think). So I didn't manage to write any of the second monologue that I began yesterday morning, or get any grading done (surprise!), but with any luck I might be less of a zombie by the time I arrive at campus and my daily cup of caffeine kicks in. Today was going to be a low-stakes day anyway, as it's the first time I'm meeting with these classes since the hurricane hit. So hopefully, no one will mind if I'm a little bit snoozy.

Someone shared this on effbook today and I think it's lovely -- and funny, and moving. So I'm sharing it here, albeit through Alina Gregorian's Huffington Post article , because I think her reading of Stone's work is very accurate, very good. That's all, besides the tiny report that I "finished" the first of November's verse play monologues this morning. It only took me four days, Ma! But I came to a satisfying conclusion to the piece -- satisfying for now, at least -- and hopefully tomorrow I'll embark on a new monologue. (Or maybe a section of dialogue, who knows?)

We survived Hurricane Sandy without much incident or damage -- a few big limbs fell, our fences need to be mended, but fortunately we didn't sustain any direct damage to the house this time around. Sadly, most of Long Island did not. There were something like 100, 000 homes destroyed on Long Island alone. Our household was without power for a few days, but we were fairly well off because of A.'s forward thinking. After Hurricane Irene (or maybe just before? My memory's shot) my industrious husband purchased a generator. So when the storm hit, and the power went out at about 6 p.m. on Monday, we were able to hook it up to the house and have electricity every three hours or so.  Cable and the internet didn't come back on for some time, and while I would have preferred different circumstances being responsible for "taking [me] off the grid" it was kind of nice to be silent and unplugged for a while.  Well, not exactly silent. Two kids trapped in a h