"Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white;
And reigns the winter's pregnant silence still;
No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill,
And willow stems grow daily red and bright.
These are days when ancients held a rite
Of expiation for the old year's ill,
And prayer to purify the new year's will."
Helen Hunt Jackson, A Calendar of Sonnet's: February
Don't forget to check the calendar(s) for session times. Sessions are held on different platforms, so be sure to find out where the session will take place:-
For two solid hours, the lady sitting next to a man on an airplane had told him about her grandchildren. She told him what they did, where they lived, how clever they were. She had even produced a plastic-foldout photo album of all nine of them.
She finally realized that he was looking very fed up, and that she had dominated the entire conversation.
"Oh, I've done all the talking" she said, "I'm so sorry. Please, tell me... what do you think of my grandchildren?"