After a spectacularly unproductive weekend, I’m going to pretend it’s not a bank holiday tomorrow and get all my marking done. After my great revelation on Friday my mind was in no fit state to do anything with it. So I’ve sent off the chapter, ragged ends and all, pretty confident that one more rewrite will get it in order. Agh! This thing is never ending.
Also proved to myself again that it doesn’t work to try to work every weekend. I’ve been doing that recently to make up for all the weekends I won’t be working in the near future, but that only succeeds up to a point. At least I’ve achieved temporary closure on Webb, and can get stuck into my next-worst chapter in a couple of days time. Marking first though. Have to get this off my back.
It stopped raining for long enough this afternoon for me to go out and check on the progress of all the little leaves. But oh how I long for summer. My bed-time reading at the moment is Willa Cather’s My Antonia, and her descriptions of sunshine on the red grass of the prairie are exactly what I need. But good things are on the horizon. Good things indeed.