Possible blog ideas float around me every night as I walk Large Dog.
I pass through interesting neighborhoods.
I recall conversations and daydreams.
I savor possibilities.
I sometimes regret.
But these days are so full. They begin at 6 and go full tilt, careening around this small world.
When I unleash Large Dog, toss him a biscuit, chug down a big glass of water, and settle in to write, the hours and their concerns fall on me like weights. As my darling niece once said, about 20 years ago, I feel squashded.
I confess to finding my bed more attractive than the keyboard. Mea culpa.
But the mornings and nights are finally cool. This is always, always an occasion of joy and renewal in my life. Those of you who communicated with me around this time last year can expect that Keats poem, the one I love so much, to come calling again the first time my exhalations take visible flight in the cold autumn air.
Here's hoping it won't be long.