Snow, snow, and more snow. I haven't worked on a poem in two weeks. But I did have my Dad do some research for me. I was looking for the name of this old haunted house in the town of Bodega (it's the town where Alfred Hitchcock filmed the film, The Birds and also the town where I was married -- the church was actually in the movie). I've been waiting for him to send me the name of the building and I guess I've been using that as a reason not to sait down and finish the poem. Now that I've got it, I'll have to get back to work. It's called the Duran House. When I was growing up (in the outskirts of Bodega) a story was being passed around about a ghost who frequented the Duran House. A girl, with a blue glow. WHo'd just sit at the top of the steps and look down. She may finally make an appearance in one of my poems. We'll see if she fits.