We arrived at the Lakehouse yesterday. I’m staying upstairs in a room with a giant king-sized bed, yet there are no sheets to fit it. This is the only quibble I have other than the water snakes M___ reported and then I viewed myself today. There’s a narrow rocky beach here with a large portion made up of a drift of tiny shells, but the snake has taken the shine away. Fortunately, there’s this very clever two seated swing with a roof right at the entrance to the beach that is great to sit and rock and read or talk or just look out at the water, hear the waves. The waves all the time like the whoosh of your heartbeat or the anticipation of new things. Advent! All night long I heard them. Also, there are so many more birds here than at Quarry Hollow or any place else on Kelleys Island that I’ve stayed. Red winged blackbirds being the only ones I’m sure of. Yesterday, I heard a bird call that sounded like the chimes of a bell. Today I wrote a new poem in the morning—maybe in the small places in Cleveland category, and I worked on revising “At the Lecture on Lost Bones and Self Worth.” I worked it so much, I can’t tell what it’s like. I’ll have to let it be until tomorrow. Yesterday we had P___’s wonderful Moroccan chicken for dinner and today we’re going to go out to eat. When we went for a walk there were a number of 8 foot tall Queen Anne’s Lace growing. I have never seen them more than 3-ish feet. Anywhere.
Danger update. I started looking up the giant Queen Anne’s Lace on the internet. Turns out it’s hemlock—every part poisonous. M___ had suggested I bite off the stem when I was picking my posy. Glad I didn’t. And I just came back from the beach. I sat on the rocks so I could watch the increasing waves keeping a reptile eye out for snakes. Today I wrote a poem which at first I didn’t like. It started out by my thinking one of my small place poems should be about a censer. When I finished my poem, it just seemed so flat. I finally broke it up into tiny lines with underlining line breaks and I liked it better. I also read all my loose poems to think about making a new book. Lots of series. I think the Aunt H series being subsumed into the whole will make things better. But still lecture series and work series. I know the lecture series can’t be last. Maybe second? Maybe the soldier poem first? I should think about what to write when I go to bed again. Still no cute t-shirt for I___. Two gift shops so far.