Maria is going away for the weekend. I can handle it. I might hit some bars in Glens Falls, N.Y. or Saratoga. I’ve decided to volunteer to do some writing teaching at a local college. It’s an interesting process. Two colleges invited me, but they are too far away. I’ve contacted three others, offering to teach a seminar for free, and gotten form letters saying there are no openings and none expected. I’m locking in on Adirondack Community College because I think I could do the most good there. We’ll see what they say.
  I think it’s good for writers to go mix it up with young writers from time to time, and challenge and be challenged. My 20th book is coming out next month, and I feel I ought to pass on some of the things I’ve learned while I can make some sense of the process. I love teaching briefly – I’ve done it at Yale, University of Minnesota and NYU – and hate teaching for any length of time.
  Good to give something back, too. I find the form letters amusing. Some places are so tight you can’t even work for them for free. That’s tight.

   I am loving the pressure I am under right now. I am crashing on my novel, due in two weeks. I am working on my second children’s book (before my editor has quite approved the first). I am working with Maria on Mary Kellogg’s second volume of poetry, due out later this year (they are sitting on the porch going over photos now).
  I am planning a kid’s web page, “Bedlam Farm For Kids,” and also putting the Farm Journal on Facebook, and making other changes to the site. It occurs to me that I have always been afraid of the wrong things. Things that ought to terrify me don’t, and things that I shouldn’t worry about frighten me sometimes. My daughters says it’s quite simple, I’m just a little crazy. Maria agrees.