With the oncoming of Thanksgiving and the feeling that I'd like to get away and just write whatever comes and read and read, I noticed today that I have lately been writing a lot of little, short poems. Some have been in an attempt to master the cinquain form. Some are fragments Some have been what I have taken to calling "Observational Poems." I have posted some of those at Monk Notes. I have added a picture I've taken to each the observations I've posted. I don't know if any are worth the trouble, but I am pretty sure they won't find a home anywhere else.

Got a few rejections in the past week or so to add to my stress. Actually rejections don't usually add to my stress, but they do seem to take something from my sense of hope sometimes. One of the rejections was upsetting, because it was for a personal essay I worked pretty hard on and I researched hard to find a good market for it, and the journal took a very long time getting it back. That could me they liked it a lot and debated a while before rejecting it, but I guess I kept thinking of all the other places I might have sent it to while during the time I was waiting.

Maybe I'll catch up on grading during the holidays. Maybe I'll write the story of my recent kidney stone. People laugh when I tell the story, so maybe there is something worth working on.