(Coffee in my friend Sarah’s dining room, taken on our trip to Portland in June 2016)
Our vacation seems like it happened so long ago now. I just went through all my photos from it and processed them.
I’m trying to write and I’ve got two kittens who are continually disrupting me by walking across my keyboard and getting in my lap. This isn’t a complaint, by the way, just something that’s keeping me from finding a flow. It doesn’t help that I’ve been writing so little lately that I feel rusty even writing a post. I mean, it’s easy enough when I’m full of beer and it’s midnight, but those posts usually must be eradicated later anyway. While those posts are extremely emotive, they basically just say the same thing over and over and over again and don’t constitute good writing. Once in a while something good comes of that, but not often.
This is why so many well-known working authors say you have to write every single day. Even if it’s total crap. Just write. Keep the gears oiled and turning. When the inspiration isn’t there you still need to be keeping your writing mind flexed and ready for when inspiration does come. You need to be ready to take it on.
So this is me writing crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. Writing crap is how you uncover the good stuff.
We have no bread this morning and only three eggs. I think it’s going to be a potato morning.
It sounds like there’s a cicada outside. But I’m pretty sure we don’t have them here. I would love to hear that all day long. I’d feel like I was in the south of France. I’d have the urge to go and find some wild thyme and a game bird to roa- wait – what?! I want to make ratatouille today. Again. I can’t get enough of it. I need to make enough to freeze it. I could eat ratatouille every day for a year.
I think I’ll go do Imwalle Gardens and get the supplies.
I’ve got so much blackberry jam/sauce* that I think it’s safe to move on to some other food preserving projects. I’d love to make some peach jam before it’s too late. Tons of ratatouille to freeze.
I’m feeling so soul satisfied having finally, after years of not doing it, found the good blackberry picking in time and made jam. I think I need to make bread today. I haven’t made bread in a million years. That’s definitely something I miss doing.
Philip was laid off on Thursday. I’m not panicking yet. I start my new part time job at the art store tomorrow. It’s a really nice art store and being a cashier is nothing new for me, but still, I’m nervous about settling into a new place with new coworkers.
This is definitely the start of a whole new chapter. I just hope it’s a really good one.
*Some have set perfectly, but the batches I made on Friday have not. They’re more like a thick sauce. Who cares? I’ll pour that shit on toast and LOVE it.