Dad said to me, a week or so ago, “You didn’t post anything on your blog for the entire month of June. It’s the first month you’ve missed!” It is–the first month I’ve missed writing a post since I started the blog two years ago. I felt like I’d tarnished some kind of perfect attendance record. Continue reading
I feel like I’ve wasted my entire weekend. I did some writing–but not as much as I wanted to, and I didn’t finish anything. “The Romance of Time Travel” has hit a brick wall. It’s gotten too long, and originally I wanted it to be light and breezy. One of my characters is now saddled with a past as an efficiency expert. I never wanted her to have a past at all. I need my sense of humor to come back–I need a jolt of energy!
Other than my feeble attempts at writing (I also worked on a story about squirrels on another planet) Continue reading
Just now, I reached under the sink to toss some plastic in my recycle bin. The bowl of mouse poison down there–which has been there, untouched, since my last visitor departed–is suddenly empty.
Whatever ate the poison will soon be dead, but I guess this means I better clean my apartment. This is the second time some unwanted creature showed up when I was tired and I let the dirty dishes sit.
I have started getting the Valley News on weekends. They called me repeatedly until I relented. I used to work for a newspaper, and I know how hard it is for papers these days, they need subscribers, and guess I felt guilty. But weekends is all I have time for.
I took my Sunday paper out to the Woodstock Village Green in front of my apartment. I sat there on a shady bench with some very, very strong coffee I made and carried out in my brand-new “Vermont: We were green before green was cool” aluminum travel mug. Continue reading
Long, long ago (it seems), I said I would post more photos from my half-climb up the trail on Mount Tom one Sunday in April. I’m sure no one was waiting for them, but I don’t like to say I’ll do something and then not do it. So I revisited the photos. Almost every single one is an artistically framed shot of the mossy path. Who needs to see 140 pictures of a path? Continue reading