Rabbit Trails

I don't have the time or desire to write just now. Stayed up too late and even though I woke at seven, I made myself stay in bed. Sucked into a TV show on hulu. Why? I can stay away from it for a while and lose interest. Why do I have to watch it today? It will be there anytime. I don't know. Weakness, I guess.
We are having an unusual string of sunny days. I feel I'm in California. I loved my first visit there just before my eighteenth birthday. I will read my journal from that time and write more on that later.
I'm going over the first drafts for my novel's cover with the designer. I like the initial copy. I e-mailed more ideas.This process reminds me of a boyfriend who drew the cover for reports I did in school. My report on Julius Caesar, he drew a dagger dripping with blood. I loved how he drew. I loved that he was so creative. I know he still is, but it doesn't effect my life now.
My husband is creative with his words. I think like so many of us, if we had grown with tools we have now,  he could have been a great writer. His letters when he joined the Navy ached with the heart of a young man ripped from his familiar surroundings. He was twenty four and never really been away from relatives, although, he had left his home. Of course, the purpose of boot camp is to break the spirit of young people. At twenty four, he felt refined instead of broken, being six years older than most of his boot camp companions. His report of the first chapel service, the first thing they were allowed to to go to unrelated to boot camp, revealed the awakening of spirit.
I think of this now, as he left May 11, 1981, a shaking young man, the day after Mother's Day. Ray drove him to Pittsburgh. I thought yesterday of that weekend we spent together, enjoying spring weather,  hiking the paths around the Shenango Reservoir. The bittersweet sorrow of leaving so we could have a life together, later. The promise, I would write every day, as my dad wrote every day to Dan when he was in boot camp, kept.
I sacrificed and loved the drama of it all. No we weren't in a physical war, although the Cold War is a war. The Rainbow(International Order of the Rainbow for Girls, a Masonic organization) ritual has a part named Patriotism. I filled in for Lakeview Assembly that summer for initiation, memorizing that part. How appropriate, I felt.
Spring musings I guess today is. Rabbit paths all over the place and like a beagle slightly distracted by another dog and his owners, I hope tomorrow to get back and stay on some path.