July 7, 2009
Lately, writing has been tough. There is the sunshine to be enjoyed, the summer vegetables to be grilled and eaten outdoors. The vats and vats of rosé to be downed, the garden to be weeded, the bicycle to be pedaled.
And then, when I do sit down and attempt to compose something short, sweet and pithy, there is a tiny black and white face staring up at me…casting me a longing gaze…wondering why why why, oh why do I spend so much time outdoors (without her) only to come inside and point my face at that shiny screen thingie with the typey keys? Why why why, when I could be using this chance to throw the toy mouse, or the yellow ball, or the other mouse, or the other five or six balls, or or or…
More soon, I promise.