So I’m sitting in the coffee shop, a very well known place, with a warm drink and an everything bagel by my side. The lilting tones of a canned classical guitar wafting around my ears. Just killin’ time and digging the aromatic scent of fresh ground java from some exotic shore.
Outside the rain is pounding down on the sidewalks and street, not a downer just an expected inconvenience, for this Pacific North West, town. My Grandma used to cajole anyone who dared complain about such trivial things, thusly:
“You’re not made of sugar you know! Rain is a blessing from on high!”
Thanks Nanna you are so right.
The friendly chatter of the generally passive patrons is a welcome and comforting relief from the pessimistic pundits on the radio. By their reckoning, civilization is heading the way of the Dodo and cathode ray Telivision sets. I’ll believe that when I see it. Oh wait….never mind.
So why am I here? No not in a metaphysical sense, that’s not where I’m at this morning. No I meant why am I whiling away my morning in this manner? Well let me see.
When my gig at the bakery came to a halt, several years ago, I took on work as the personal minder of a two-year-old boy and his somewhat older sister. They are wonderful kids, and I am finding the whole experience most fulfilling, and emotionally rewarding.
As my beautiful mother likes to remind me,
“Children keep us young at heart and mind.”
She is always spot on, although the whole question of whether I actually ever grew out of my childhood, is still very much up for debate.
Well, anyway, this line of work keeps me quite occupied, those Lego blocks don’t build themselves you know. What with my dressing, cooking, chauffering and playing duties, I have gotten far away from my writing goals, principally being reasonably frequent postings to this blog.
Given my infrequent entries here, It really is small wonder that anyone remains subscribed to me, for which, by the way, I remain eternally grateful.
Sources evade me as I pen these words, but I have read, in many different forums, that writers write, and not every wordsmith has countless empty hours in which to do so.
If it’s something you want or really need to do, make time for it, they cajole me.
That is my intent. A couple of times a week, my little charge spends his mornings at preschool. These are hours that I have, previously frittered away on heaven knows what. Hours, some of which I intend, henceforth, to repurpose for writing.
I dare not make bold promises here, but it is my aim to post something weekly from now on.
💟 I love you all for hanging in there for me.
Keep hope in your hearts and a smile close to your lips,