And, BTW, fog is rolling in, which is allowing me this moment when I am able to put aside "should" while other things "must wait" and "do."
Lots of nothing, it seems, but this is an illusion I perpetuate, for in truth, I've been somewhat busy. Not busy enough to stop dropping a note here, but I will beg one's forgiveness with an explanation: I'm only good for about 500 words a day, and that includes editing/rewrites. (And working on another.) I'm reading much more than that, retaining little, but, drip-drip, every little bit helps in the requisite need to be au currant.
The frogs are still at it (above link), the mallard hen is sitting on eggs, our old dog died and the blind adopted mutt thrives. A lot of weeds have either been killed or pushed back, and once this fog clears, more will perish.
Packing up the extraneous and redundant so that we might get this place on the market has slowed. No, strike that. Ground to a halt. No reason, really, which brings me back to the "should." Courage.
I have a story in me. Not much of one, mind you, as it involves a saloon with assorted characters, including tweakers and an attentive barmaid, plus an expensive jukebox. I just don't get out often, otherwise I'm sure I'd be somewhat inured. Hence, a difficult time mustering the tale.
I received word this morning that my show in Chicago this September is a go. A fellow on the east coast has requested photos of the field burns and flags to sell in his little shop. I've been sending out my poetry to friends. Near as I can tell, no heads or tails of it. Perhaps the world goes too fast nowadays for that form unless one can find a depression in the landscape in which it can settle. Thinking about sending some out if it turns out I have the wherewithal to continue writing it.
Poker? Played a little free PLO a week or so ago. Stupid hand sent me to bed nursing Thumper, so no.
Know that I'm still looking in on you folks as well.
And always more photos. Shooting at night with my phone and available light.
Come back, Spot ...
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