It's been a moody week. I ripped things out, started things over. I worked on a few squares for the never-ending sock yarn leftovers blanket, because they are easy and brainless and they make me feel like I'm getting someplace. I'm reading every book that crosses my path, all at the same time. I'm going to hang up some shutters, which I have resisted because I really want unfettered windows and also I hate to dust them, but then I think about Key Largo (both the movie and the place) and remember again that I love shutters. They feel tropical. I'd hang a rattan ceiling fan, too, and it would turn slooooowly and lazily, except the ceilings around here are so low we'd all get capped. I love that shadowy southern thing, though; the lazy fans, the deep slanting sunshine, the fluttering white gauzy curtains, the plantation-style shutters keeping the heat at bay. You can tell where my head is these days. The [finally! melting!] snow has filled the creek and also broken a valve on the sump pump, resulting in a very un-cozy basement flood, but also in one of those lovely neighbor things where people keep their heads while you're freaking out, and remind you not to wade into the swampy ice water in case you get electrocuted, and bring over extra trash bags and offer to call the fire department for you and stuff. That's why I live in a small town, right there. My neighbors are great. The doc got all the pilot lights re-lit, and I spent the morning mopping floors and re-washing all my laundry. The sun is shining, and I finally had that feeling that we have made it through; the flood, the long winter, the dark. Somewhere under those rotting drifts of gray snow, there are daffodils.