|The kiln yard, from my studio window|
|My foul-weather friend|
I've postponed the firing I was planning to do this week. There's no urgency about it, so why kill myself?
Shoveling, now: that's a different story. There is indeed urgency about shoveling, which I am procrastinating even as I type. I need to get to Portland this afternoon, to teach my classes! We've had to cancel several classes, so I'll be in Portland more than usual over the next few days, to teach the make-ups. I shudder to think what parking will be like.
I'm the first one to say, we live in Maine. Snow happens. But damn: maybe snow could not happen, for a week or two? Just until we figure out what to do with the snow we've already got?
Alright, putting my boots on. It ain't gonna shovel itself.