wretched winter gloomdays without end
gray gray
sometimes snow

but

poetry.

And dreams.

***

I have a title for my project. The finished section in seven "chapters" will comprise Part 2 (possibly Part 3, if Part 1 grows too large to contain itself) of the larger work. They have titles now. Each Part will come out on its own--this Part 2 first--and when all has been said--and done--will come out together as a single volume, as well.

***

BrotherB's birthday was Saturday. He is 44. I made him a very nice gluten-free chocolate cake and we lit the candles and sang the song.

Neighborboy Deaven spent Sunday and Monday afternoons here. He will turn 8 in April. I hadn't seen him since Christmas, and I was astounded at the changes since just then--his growth is taking off, his voice has a far less screechy timbre, and he has more control over his excitements. His hair is shaggy and a deeper red. We made seedplanting pots out of halved cardboard toilet-paper rolls, and filled a nursery tray with them, and filled them with dirt. We were going to plant seeds yesterday but it was so cold and dim outside and I was hard at work editing my Thing, so he played quietly near my workbed with Legos until his sister came to fetch him home for supper. She is twelve now, and so very thin and mature (and her untended darkening blonde hair reaches now to her knees, and the ungainly braces on her teeth)--nothing like the chortling hollering desperate-for-attention little thing who invaded us three years ago. I praise Jesus and Baha'u'llah and Vishnu et al. that I may grandmother these two in my life.