It's Saturday afternoon. Xander went home about an hour ago after a cheerful night and day with us. He may be exhausting, but he's loads of fun. Conversely, he may be loads of fun, but he's also exhausting! Right now he says that Opa -- that's me -- is his best friend. I plan to enjoy that title for as long as I can because pretty soon he'll be going to school and will find a worldful of people his own age to play with. But for now . . .
This makes life in Montana more than bearable. The wonders of the area help. Diane and I have already had one nephew and niece come visit from Holland, and another set is coming in September. Meanwhile our nephew and niece from northern California, along with their two near-Xander-aged boys hopefully will be up for a few days in July. My brother ans sister-in-law have been up for a four day stay, and my brother has been up by himself as well. So here we are -- and people are coming to see us. Part of it is the area we live in, but part of it at least is our open door policy.
So when I complain that I am a little lonely up here, you have to take it with a grain of salt. Or pinch of herbs. Or shot of Scotch, single malt. I am a man subject to my moods -- something I think we all find ourselves subject to -- and a writer who looks for truth sometimes in odd places. Today is a good day; my fears are snugly tucked up in my closet.
Today's blog is more like an exercise, one letter after another, one word after another. There are a couple of story ideas kicking around in my skull, but I am a little tired right now, so I am letting them ferment. One, at least, is perfect flash fiction; the others have not decided how long to be, yet. I like them so far, but I've been awake since 3:40 this morning and my energy is waning.
Maybe after dinner the stories will come out to play. It's all part of the process. These things must be done delicately.