My publisher is getting on my nerves again. She seems to get pressure from our small band of devotees. (not her words) What she does not seem to understand however is, that creative writing wells from down below.
Ofcourse, the fact that she is always there to coax me into new projects and that she takes me everywhere she goes, does not help in even finding time to consider digging into that below area of my creativism.
I thus need to tire her out to the extent that she desires to sleep a whole morning. These are the times I steal for myself doing stuff. Stuff like thinking about writing, or maybe doing picture editing on the 10,000 pictures our little safari team took in the two weeks we gawked at nature, or starting to set the framework for a road trip to New England next month, or beginning to project my nfl football pool picks. It is 10 years now that Sandee and I have been feeding other winners, even local ones who haven't even shared a drink with us to celebrate their win and in doing so could have been spending at least a few of our contributory dollars back on us, which seems to me would at least create a discount on my present ante to a surely Redskin dominated season. (Although I may have to wait taking them as a "sure" pick into the latter part of the season.)
The sudden death of my best friend for 51 years Hans Vogelaar, who was 2 months younger than me, has left me contemplating the reasons for needing to live a full life, whatever that means, a "carpe diem" type of life filled with daily statements of "I love you" to my sweetheart and the recognition of my innate desire to seek and hold dear "the daily little wonders" I am able to notice in my immediate environment by paying more attention to who and what is happening every minute I breathe in and out. Trying to smile more often and having kind words and thoughts, because all this here and now can end any moment just like blowing out a candle which will envelop us in darkness. As you can read into this above ranting, it bothers me that Hans left me without a reason I can accept.
Therefore to have you allow me time to create something new and happy and worth reading, I dragged up last years blogs from the website of our little hell in heaven - Brix - in Lexington VA.
It will allow you some reading into "why you should stay away from becoming a chef" and me the option to have my writings in one place as well as playing with my muse in private a little longer before I must expose her to you again.
Here they are