Hullo sun, hullo kitchen, goodbye words
Oct. 19th, 2012 04:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceThis is turning into has apparently become one of those days. I have a short story to deliver by the end of the month; thus far I have an opening, a setting, a mood (ah, melancholy - what would short story writers ever do without you?) and something to respond to, which is Kipling's "The Gardener". I needed and fully intended to spend the day getting the story sorted in my head, and words laid down on paper. This process was predicated upon a long and profitable walk, which I intended to take this morning.
This morning I devoted some time to sorting out some e-mail issues, and printer issues, and working up a bread-dough, and reading Lymond, and washing dishes, and hanging out with my wife who is working from home. Sooner or later it became clear that I was not going to fit that walk in this morning, so I gave up depending on it and fixed lunch. After lunch, I would go for that so-useful walk.
After lunch I mixed and baked pear-and-pecan muffins, and planned to make soup for supper to go alongside the bread I shall have baked, and drew up a list of what I lacked, and read Lymond, and fiddled more with my computer set-up, and...
And it is now past four o'clock and there is no time today to take that long and indispensable walk; so I shall go shopping instead, and hope that inspiration strikes anyway. Lacking that, I'll just sit here with a beer and an empty head and see where the words take me, maybe. While my butternut squash gently roasts.
This morning I devoted some time to sorting out some e-mail issues, and printer issues, and working up a bread-dough, and reading Lymond, and washing dishes, and hanging out with my wife who is working from home. Sooner or later it became clear that I was not going to fit that walk in this morning, so I gave up depending on it and fixed lunch. After lunch, I would go for that so-useful walk.
After lunch I mixed and baked pear-and-pecan muffins, and planned to make soup for supper to go alongside the bread I shall have baked, and drew up a list of what I lacked, and read Lymond, and fiddled more with my computer set-up, and...
And it is now past four o'clock and there is no time today to take that long and indispensable walk; so I shall go shopping instead, and hope that inspiration strikes anyway. Lacking that, I'll just sit here with a beer and an empty head and see where the words take me, maybe. While my butternut squash gently roasts.