Back home

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We enjoyed a lot of sunsets. Pondered the state of our nation and the world at large. Wondered what kind of future our grandchildren will inherit. Came home to a garden in need of attention. The improbable butts up sharply against the mundane, yet I have to remain optimistic that my small contributions in all facets are not only helpful but necessary, from prayer to stories of hope.

More in a few days. For now, it's good to be home.

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Fits, starts, and restarts

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Two examples from two different skeins of yarn where breaks in the colour scheme occur. Very indicative of my current mood, lol. This is a funny novel, for all the hemming and hawing going on. Never before have I written, then purged scenes with somewhat of an abandon. I truly don't know what to make of it, chalking it up to age, grieving, the weirdly long winter (even though it's spring), or my new computer keyboard, which is small but adequate in a strangely truncated manner. I'm enjoying the writing, but the story keeps veering off on tangents I'm not comfortable with, in that too much is being revealed too soon, bleh. Future and Past Me's are steering clear of this manuscript, perhaps because what came before it was so out of the blue, so cathartic, and this prequel is just as outta my backside as any I've ever written. But I am writing, let me restate that, despite restarting a chapter here and there. I'm not getting much else accomplished, other than s
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Following one's heart

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