This post has nothing to do with crochet and everything to do with writing. Putting thoughts to paper (or in this case, screen) is something I do frequently. Mostly I write in a little moleskin notebook: the 3.5 inches by 5.5 inches variety with a hard cover.
I used to have several notebooks for lists and thoughts, but in an effort to simplify, I switched to a single notebook for everything. Writing by hand is therapeutic. Zen, almost. I write slowly and deliberately with a Bic Cristal Pen with blue ink. Typing is done in a fast and frenzied fashion that would please Mavis Bacon. But with typing, my thoughts are often disjointed. Writing by hand forces me to think and create and contemplate.
Today, I find myself being distracted watching the birds at my bird feeder. A single blue jay, a grackle, chickadees, house finches with their fushia breasts and cardinals partake of the offering. The grackle summons his fellows and they set all the smaller bird to wing. Then, the grackles leave and the smaller birds continue their feast.
The sun is out after what seems to be a month of rain. Still, I dilly-dally, not working.
