What is this...poem business?

I took one of Eric's glasses from the dishwasher and filled it with OJ from the corner store. I put my lips to the edge of the glass, which was warm, and drank a sip. The temperature difference between the glass and the OJ was surprising.

Yesterday, I found a poem by William Wordsworth in one of my school books: Uncommon Ground edited by William Cronon. The poem was a tribute to the Simplon pass in the Alps, the same bitch that dad and I toiled on for many an hour. That was the longest climb I've ever done-- 26 miles (or was it kilometers) long, and when we got to the top there was a lodge with some good food and a giant statue of a falcon looking over the valley. Dad went up that same pass last summer, it's in Switzerland. When I sent him that poem, he sent me something back:

Up ahead, ten miles
and 2000 feet
down below, switzerland
up ahead, a more enterprising cyclist
waiting once again
for a tiring companion
down below, a camp site and some sausages,
up ahead, italy
down below, it doesn't matter
life is not a poem

did he write that??

Another pretty great thing happened this weekend, down at the Bookery. I saw one of my former substitute teachers read from a novel she's been writing for years! I can't really remember which class she substitute-taught in, but her name is Mrs. Dutt and she always seemed really shy. She remembered me though, by initials. She thought my name was Richard Sharpe or something like that. After talking to her, I called her up tonight (she gave me her card) to ask her just a few questions: what made you sign up for this reading; what are your plans for this novel; why is this kind of reading important for the community? I'll post the article I'm writing for the Sun soon. As I walked out, another lady commented that she saw my camera, and that she just gave her AE-1 away to a college student. Good luck indeed!