eerrrrrk

What I meant to say was that it’s plain that I cannot squeeze a good story out by dint (merely) of determination and persistence. Tried that.(several times actually.) Hence, I am willing to carry my current working notebook around for the length of time required (1 year, 7 years, 11 years) for the thoughts which I jot at unpredictable and infrequent moments to begin to relate to each other and--eventually--form the bones of a dang good idea. I cannot assume such a matrix will ever materialize, but it will be a creditable effort.

These are cute kids at the Maryland Renaissance Faire. Someday--maybe next year--I’ll get the lady who throws and interprets stones outside the little gypsy hut to do a reading for me. I think pecan pie might not be an entirely bad idea either that day.

Could there be a more boring manner of improving one’s Spanish than Rosetta Stone? Well, yes...you could read a grammar book. I suppose it beats that.

My working notebook, by the way, has 3 phrases in it so far. I hope at least 5 by Christmas. I’m thinking it’ll take at least 30 or 40 before the first filament of an idea coalesces. In the meantime, I can be irked. Irk is a strange word. The built-in Mac dashboard dictionary is telling me that it may come from the Old Norse yrkja meaning “to work,” which is an interesting irony in that the source of my irkedness is the sense of not being a contributor, workwise. This is why I used to want to be a pioneer. Because there would be no time for existential angst. You’d be way too busy making soap out of lye,