Writing escapes me like summer days careening toward the season's end.
It's been another whole week since I've written. In the meantime, I've filed my submission for the new anthology. A tiny grief memoir of poems, prose poems, and reflections from the first 40 days after my mother's death, part of a larger work I'm creating.
The pool is out of commission due to an electrical issue. A perfect summer day yesterday, and I walked up to the gate and saw the sign. No telling when it will be repaired. The responsibility is PECO's, not the HOA's, and it's the last week the pool is open for the season. It's such a disappointment.
There are other little things ~ the friend I meet for dinner most weeks is traveling, the garden still is overgrown, my new place remains a chaos of boxes as I await furniture. I could order my bookshelves. Ikea, finally, has restocked. I'd be able to set up my library and writing room. I hesitate only because I know I will have to cull books. My new space has less space for bookshelves. It's a strange hesitation I feel to complete my moving in.
What's that about?
I'm in the weeds. I wish it was as easy as calling Blake.
Tomorrow Has Become Yesterday is a (nearly) daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.
Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.
No comments:
Post a Comment