It is that time of year again. My favorite time of year bursting with colors, and my worst time of year bursting with tears.
I was told the hurt never goes away, it just changes. Some years it seems it has; others it seems it hasn’t.
This is one of the hasn’t. Last year I barely had time to think about anything else but condo purchase. This year, I’ve got the time.
I used to write about it a lot more, intent on gathering thoughts and feelings and memories; sorting.
I’ve never been much good at sort. I’ve always argued that Mc should be filed after Mb and before Md – if such name roots actually existed. They don’t warrant their own alphabetical sub category or file tab. Should the Mac’s be filed with the Mc’s? If not, accurate spelling will be imperative when trying to figure out which drawer to pull.
Then there’s the fabric stash. Grouped mostly by solid color, unless there’s a pattern; American Flag fabric would sit nicely between red and blue – if red and blue were adjacent on the color wheel. They are not. This is my confusion. Would Poinsettia fabric be best placed under mostly red, mostly green, assorted floral or catalogued as just Christmas?
Sort ranks up there on the difficulty chart with where to start.
I’ve started this before, and I’ve done ok. Tidbits here and there; succinct vignettes.
Written, shared, abandoned or saved. It’s going to take some cull.
I’ve been at this 8 years now. Haven’t missed a Tuesday, yet.
Background matters, but this isn’t biography.
I was born somewhere, some date, schooled, worked, and have been writing since 1973: poetry first, some stories, blogging 2007. It’s key, relevant, but not now.
Now, I’ve got to start somewhere, so it might as well be here:
Haslett, Michigan, a slightly-above word-processing level computer, a phone-line dial-up, a bottle of wine (no idea what kind) and the unexpected blessing of one very persistent neighbor.
knabble 