Itching

June 25, 2017 § 2 Comments

Hello, it’s me. I’m in California dreaming about the way we used to be.

Okay, that’s a lie. Worse yet, it’s an Adele lyric.

I’m not in California, but it almost feels like it. The day is sunny and breezy and cool, and the windows are open and flooding the house with fresh air. 

I’ve been a pinball lately, distracted by a hundred things and having no time to write. I miss writing; it itches and aches like a phantom limb. That itch is never stronger than when I read a writer’s thoughts on the process. 

Today’s edition of Orbital Operations, Warren Ellis’s weekly newsletter, made me itch ferociously. 

But the grass needs mowing. I’m loathe to do it, especially since I learned recently that the whole lawn-mowing thing began when the middle class started doing it to make their houses look like the manicured estates of the wealthy. A stupid reason to rob yourself of hours of free time, yet it’s become a social expectation now, and legally mandated in some areas. 

So I’ll mow and weed. It’s a good day to be outside, at least. And while I toil mindlessly, I’ll try to remember where I left off with the novel, and the plans I had for revisions of whatever the hell draft I’m on. Maybe I can steal a couple hours tonight to pull it up on screen and poke at it. 

Speaking of mowing and weeding, my wonderful friend Sarah has a blog she’s been keeping secret. It’s all about gardening, at which she is a master and possibly some kind of wizard. (Seriously, her back yard is so beautiful, some kind of dark magic must be involved.) Check out Horseradish and Honey if you want to learn how to enchant the earth into growing gorgeous, nourishing things instead of just the hateful, thorny weeds that plague my yard.

And off I go, to sweat and weed and mow. 

Still

June 7, 2017 § Leave a comment

There are still books to be read, and be written.

There are still spring flowers and summer fireflies and autumn leaves and the hush of winter snowfalls.

There are still sunrises and sunsets to see.

There are still roads not taken, trails not explored, mountains not climbed.

There are still adventures you’ve not had.

There are still  grandeurs yet to see, and beauties yet to lift your heart and expand your mind and soothe your soul.

There are still canyons to call into.

There are still milestones to celebrate.

There are still conversations to be enjoyed, by firelight or candlelight or in the dark or in the pub.

There are still friends you have and friends you’ve yet to meet.

There are still reeds bent low by raging rivers, standing tall when the waters calm.

There are still all these, and more.

If you are weary, pause from the fight (but only pause). Be still. Breathe.

Remember what you fight for, and why. There are still so many good things worth the battle.

 


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