The Rollout

Dear Maria,

Well, it has not been 3 weeks, but seems as if 3 months have passed. Where February was an epoch, March merely a string of moments, and now April.

The spring thing continues. Not so much an explosion, more a rollout. The pattern out front for the trees seems inviolate now. First, the Drake elm. Then the Cleveland pear. And finally the Chinese elm, which has been in the ground the longest of the three. Youth served first—a broader lesson?

Was just out back with Max. He was upside down, grinding grass and dirt into his fur. Overhead were goldfinches. Those are the only two I have seen this season. I hope to see baby bluebirds out and about soon, but they could also be gone from the nest, flown while I was in Greenville.

The sun was hot on my neck, the air was cool, sky very blue, and the apple I was eating was an apple in form and texture only. I smeared peanut butter on the slices, but I might as well have stood with a spoon in hand and eaten it out of the jar. Pathetic. Disappointing.

I did write a story for the Key West contest, and I did enter it. Note the two steps. The first draft went past the word limit by 30 words or so. I cut it back to 465, built it back to around 510, and the pushed it down 490, and left it without an ending for nearly a full day. The morning the entry was due, I forced myself to bring it to its conclusion of sorts—and the 500 word limit. Hit the SEND button. Bye-bye.

Having an aim in mind for a piece of my writing beyond my normal goal—one reader who thinks it worth the read—made the effort quarrelsome. Even the word effort is a clue to the change in my state of mind.

My quip has been that I write because I do not paint. But in the quippiness, much truth. If I painted, then I would hang the pieces on my wall, and should someone see one of them, or all, and say “I like that”, all would be well. The blogs are my walls, sort of. Besides I am a sucker like anyone else for a comment that says “Made my day” or “Thanks for writing this”.

I write because I write. A bit more than a hobby and much less than a calling. I just do.

In January I started keeping a notebook—references for future reference, quotations, thoughts, etc. Maybe I will just publish them in raw form with barely an edit. Maybe not. Not sure the world is ready for or would be served by that stew. Not even my kindest readers.

We shall see.

You no doubt are loving this weather as I am. We know the heat that is coming that will seem to bleach the blue from the sky. Have fun. Be well.

Yours, of course, srk