Writing Day

I have a strange obsession about time. I always time-stamp emails and journals. It took me a year of blogging to stop doing it there. Perhaps I didn’t want an expiration date; the program already keeps the dates organized.

Time gives me a sense of reassurance that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be when I start having ideas that I’m off-schedule or am feeling the tug of expectations. Mental tug-o-war games. But when I saw the time 12:34 p.m. on the oven clock, there was a sense of relief as I sunk back into my chair. The sun has all the crap on my desk illumined, and that’s fine. The junk that is. Eventually I’ll get my desk squared away. Perhaps in my  fits of puttering, I’ll get around to it.

What an amazing writing day it’s been. Two blogs, and it’s only a tic or so past one. Three or four emails. It’s been a great puttering day as well. Nice dog walk. My camera has decided that the  card is full; even though I delete pictures from the camera every time I download, now it’s asking for a new card and is refusing to be of use. Maybe when I loaned the camera to the group of fifth graders, they changed the setting of something. They were having a great time messing around with the features.

Today couldn’t be a better weather day. Yesterday was so cold that when I wasn’t working, all I wanted to do is crawl under the covers and read, though I did get the impulse to bake banana bread. There’s something about wonderful scents in the house on a cold day. Right now I’ve got Hubbard squash from my garden baking, along with some yams for a future supper, but it’s got the kitchen smelling so homey.

Without a camera to focus my brain as I walked, I listened. I listened to the rooster from up the road. It tends to carry on all day long. I don’t hear him unless I’m out walking on the nearest part of the property. I think I heard a Kestral, though I’m not sure. The neighborhood was rather quiet; no machines, not even a leaf blower. No building noises. I did hear a couple of voices of people walking; the day is so clear, voices carry.

By now, my first load of laundry is probably dry, and the second needs to be transferred. Yup, back to some puttering.

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