Not quite 365, a year of posts, but celebrating 350 posts! I enjoy writing this. I love writing. I relish the interaction.
Sorry this week has been skimpy on the writing. Working the weekend, and going every night some where has crimped my style.
This time of year in the dog days of summer, I find myself drifting. I tend to stay awake too late and find it difficult to jump out of bed in the morning. The lovely lingering summer evenings as the temperature cools off regenerates me. I want to revel in the morning, too, but find the late nights make stretching in bed more inviting.
Then we have the humidity, where the energy is sucked out of person. Today, with the air surrounding me like a hot wet blanket, sweat pouring off me like a fountain, I wait for the storm. Tornado warnings with sirens lead me to help a man down his stairs for the first time in long time. He has his wood shop down there and he threatens his wife he may not want to leave. He has been missing his tools.
I know how he feels. I want my writing. Take me downstairs to write. With no work worries. Some day. Will a storm help me to that place I can write?
Tension feels the air before a storm. I felt it this morning in my head with irritation. Yet, I plow through, watching the sky. Then sometimes, like today, it rushes through almost bypassing where I am. Yet, the stickiness remains and clouds pile up over 20,000 feet. I watch for more storms.
I don't know what tomorrow will bring, or even tonight as thunder crackles outside. I keep writing in the storms. I invite you to keep reading.