Been writing like crazy. Up early, eager to get into it, sleep hovering in me, resisting efforts to shake it off. I fed the cats, showered, and then dressed without shaving, hitting the street for a long walk.
Well, not a long walk, a longer walk, a round around way to reach The Beanery, two miles through the neighborhoods, and then down onto the bike path, past the cemetary and through the fields. The rain wasn't falling and rising sunshine warmed my overcoat. Supposed to be about forty-eight but felt warmer, thank you, sun.
Reached the coffee shop at 8:30. Had a blueberry scone for breakfast at my lucky table and then launched into writing. Edited a bit, caught up to where I was to commence today and then added on. Finishing that chapter, I posted some notes to Red Room and returned to typing and editing.
One, two more chapters to add? Think so. More to be added to other chapters, to complete the circuits of action, thinking and development.
My coffee is gone and my ass - well, you know. My ass is numb. Done writing like crazy for now. Pause to stare at the numbers, 104,00 words, 321 pages. Sweet, satisfying.
Off for another walk. Planning the long way home, five miles, into town and then back out to the edge, where I live, part way up the mountain on the town's southern side.
Then - then, we'll see. Vague plans proliferate the day's promise, flitting about. See what the wife says, how she feels, what she wants to do, what the weather says about the day's plans.
The sun is out. Strong sunshine rules the ground but dark clouds rule the sky.
Time to close up, walk and think. Time to write another day in my life.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com