Would anybody publish a story about an eighty year-old woman and ten year-old boy who have nothing at all in common except their mutual obsession with honeybees? Probably not, but I wrote it anyway.
Sunday, July 22, 2018
Saturday, July 21, 2018
Friday, July 20, 2018
There's seldom need to waste time unless we secretly want something to complain about. I found this quiet shady nook to work on my story while I waited for The Main Muse to join me for lunch. They make stupendous pizza here. The pizza itself would have been worth the wait, but it wouldn't have been nearly as good without her company.
Thursday, July 19, 2018
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Now I need to find somebody who will pay me to publish it. Writing stories is a low-overhead endeavor, but it is necessary to try to wring a little money out of it so one can pay some of the bills that piled up while writing.
Wade in the Water recounts William Erwin’s escape from the local eldercare facility, and it reminds us that every escape from somewhere is an escape to somewhere else. When his story finds a home, I’ll let you know where to read it.
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Monday, July 16, 2018
Sunday, July 15, 2018
Nostalgia Court offers a right cool spot to write in, provided you get there early before the sun gets high and the tourists and summer folk start to congregate. The Wildflour coffee is pretty good, too. Once you have coffee, you'll want to hang around for breakfast.
Saturday, July 14, 2018
Friday, July 13, 2018
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
After too much ado
about too many things
there's finally nothing
left at all to do
except to stand still
in this peaceful place,
steady my brain
and let the words
find me (The bear
is a friend's friend;
he won't talk to me
while I'm writing).
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Barnaby, the watchbear down at Nostalgia Court, gets bored on dark summer nights when nobody's around. He's decided to fill the quiet hours by writing a novel. I wouldn't mind him using my laptop if he didn't keep changing all my settings and preferences.
Monday, July 9, 2018
Oh, yes, I love this tilted world,
I’m in no hurry to leave her at all,
but I can feel atop a hard mountain,
or at the end of a steep stony day,
or just laying by a long aggravation,
some peculiar lightness of being
as if the next breeze might lift me
up and away to that day soon coming
when I shall attain escape velocity
and learn to fly on my broken wings.
Sunday, July 8, 2018
At summer's green and golden heart,
there's a sadness lurking deep
in the shadows of the flowers,
in the whisperings of leaves;
all spring's promises now unfolded,
each fruitful burgeoning now cast,
each day's sun a little lower,
each summer's fog a sly rehersal,
for a snowfall still unthinkable.
Saturday, July 7, 2018
Likely, I feel as strongly as anybody about the people in power over our country right now, but we all need to remember that hospitality remains a sacred duty. Jesus said whatever we do to any we do to him. He said if we turn the very least of souls from our table, we turn him away.
There are people I'd just as soon not eat with, but that's what Jesus said. He also said to love our enemies and pray for our persecutors. Yes, he did.