back in illinois now, I remember how long a winter can be, with day after day of cold, somewhat snowy, blustery weather, difficult driving, people indoors going a little crazy from not going out at all. The cars you see just tend to live with problems that are more easily fixed in good weather - falling mufflers, broken taillights, that kind of thing, and the police generally let them drive around that way until spring. i have trouble motivating myself to walk the dogs, since the windy cold biting air can be unpleasant and the mushy snow and ice make walking difficult.

at home, i check the "dashboard" constantly in hopes someone somewhere is reading or buying my books. that's bleak too, as it's january, though things have been looking up in general. if looking up means going from thirty dollars to forty a month, what's the point since we spend that much just feeding teenagers over a weekend. nevertheless the only way to a better income is to keep plugging away, up through thirty and forty to perhaps higher, and the only way to do that really will be to produce more, so i might as well get back to the grind and just crank it out.

really the new year has brought a lot of self-evaluation and a little self-doubt. in this post i complain bitterly about the futility of heavy publicizing, but that's what I do, and slowly I get a little more organized even as i am sometimes flailing with what exactly i'll write, and when, and exactly how to crank out a few more products. some of my friends are in a real groove, cranking out successful novels or moving up the ladder in some kind of way; i feel somewhat mired in adhd-style scattered production, having a lot of things partly done and nothing to call finished. i am considering cranking out a quick haiku just because i can easily write about seventy haiku in a week if i have to, but that would be just to have something that i finished, something i know i can pull together and put out there.

it would also be because in general i find some interest in putting a small book of haiku, about 28 pages, in front of people and saying, "read this." it doesn't take that much of their time. they usually enjoy it. my deeper purpose, tho have a lot of my work read, will have to be teased out of the things i can get anyone to read. the only way is to have things that are good, and interesting, out front where people can find them.

the bleak gray january is turning darker as five o'clock is already upon us and my little corner in the living room is getting steadily darker, and the dog at my lap, on the armrest of my chair, has given up barking at the neighbor dog who he can no longer see and who it's pretty clear we don't care about. the dogs were making a horrible racket earlier, but all for nothing, because whatever dog was out there didn't care about them, and we didn't care much to be warned about them. it's a town. there are dogs. get over it.

but meanwhile, back in new mexico, a huge chunk of mountain came down and crashed on the main highway going up to our village, and it was a large enough chunk that it would take more than a group of worker men to remove it. and further, the question is, did it ruin the road and therefore it will require another week to rebuild or regrade it? i suspect that the entire mountain now has to be careful, and go around, on a road that goes through a couple of creeks if i recall, and winds around back in the canyons. my wife was caught back there once in a snowstorm and will never forget it. i can picture myself back in our old home, forty miles from a town with a hospital or groceries, wondering if, when that forty becomes sixty, it might be worth it to bo back the other way. they will be quite isolated for at least a month while all this gets resolved, i believe. and i'm glad i'm not part of it.
our life in town is so easy, with everything about a mile away. so easy, i almost feel guilty.