Slept facing the partopened window last night to get the cold real air, then awoke four a.m. as face was pelted softly in rhythmgusts of siftsnow through screen. Wondrous. Got up to shut the glass, looked out at bluish world snowblue deep in fine sideways windsnow. I was in love with the world in the dark.

And by noon all trace was gone, just damp ground & reminiscing wind.

Now late in the day I start work in Sylvia the Writingcabin, really Sylvia the Writingtrailer but more and more homelike to me. I got the camptoilet configured in the corner--no more trips to the house every half-hour--and made an excellent writingbed out of the dining area, lowering the tabletop and unfolding the cushions across it from bench to bench, covered in rugs and blankets with Turkish-carpet-covered cushions robbed from the housesofa. Color and comfort.

Next week Husband will maybe help me knock out the kitchenette and fridge/closet units to open up the guts of it. I'll assemble the clawfoot round oak table in the space thus opened and stack the square bookshelves up the sidewalls. I'm tempted to live here now, loath to leave it but I have family to tend to. Such a quiet little womb it is, Sylvia. She.

I missed my self-imposed deadline insomniac stupid but would not risk ruining the music of the third and final draft of the Thing I wrote by approaching it with anything less than a crystal-clear awareness. Now I seek time alone with the pages again. I can't work on such projects in here because I still have no laptop computer to edit on & so must stick with the venerable G4 in my upstairs bedoffice. I type right now on my iPhone, but the OfficePro app that opens my manuscript loses the formatting/linebreaks, and they are what this stage is most about, so I'm forced to keep to the house for that--which slows it all down, vulnerable as I am to creatures there. I'm monitoring eBay, though, and may figure out how to get a MacBook Pro--grab a dead one cheap (something that needs only a logic board) and have it refurbished for a few hundred dollars. I think it can be done.

good spring to you