I stayed in the boat house last night. 60 degrees is my cut-off temperature and last night we just made it. I went down at 8:00 and worked on my lead article for the shoreowners' newsletter. I'm the editor of this issue. I've been the editor for years, but last year another woman decided she was the editor. She'd been helping me, formatting the stuff I gave her and mailing it out. I don't really care who the editor is, but I like having the job back. I have a bunch of stuff to put in the issue and Linda and I are having fun working on it long distance together--Linda's President of the organization this year.

I usually write a long article about what it was like in Hawkeye during the winter. I always get a lot of positive feedback about the article, which includes mostly nature stuff and stories about how cold it was, when the ice went out, etc. I go through my journal and report everything. My trip down memory lane last night was very telling: lots of weekends when I did nothing but lie on the couch and watch bad TV, feeling depressed. Sort of a sad waste of time. I feel better now and last night I spent half an hour in the garden, digging and planting. I never would have done that a month ago, I always felt sluggish and unmotivated when I got home from work, just wanted to watch bad TV. Partly it's because I've been moving around more (physical therapy) and partly it's the new medication--and partly no doubt it's because the sun is finally shining.

Anyway, I got to sit on the boathouse porch, working by candlelight. Not quite as nice as relaxing and reading but nice nevertheless. There was a very persistent bull frog next to the b.house the whole time. Bugs were fierce but I covered myself with a blanket. The other night I was lying in bed in the dark there and I heard a huge CRASH! and SPLASH! along the shore. A tree came down and hit the water. I shined my flashlight down the shoreline but couldn't really see what was going on. Last night before dark I walked along the shore to investigate. No tree sticking out into the water, but the skyline of the shore is very different. Wait until my sister sees it--her lone tall tree is gone, like a rotten tooth that's been pulled. Broke off at the top, it did, and apparently the log floated away. It's very strange that it disappeared like that but there's no sign of it. Now all we have is my sister's paintings to remind us of that poplar. Lucky thing she painted it.

I just finished work on our Collection Development policy. Big rush to get it done so we can give it to the board to ponder for the next month, then hopefully approve it at their next meeting. Sent it to the director and other librarians this morning, will see what they think of it.

Cousins arriving today to put docks in, tomorrow to cut up trees I guess. I'll mow and mow. Rain south and east of here, sun in the Adirondacks. I hope. I'm very sore from stooping and bending in the garden and have PT tonight, which will make my knees and butt muscles sore. Make it burn, make it burn.