Mark is back in Melbourne — so I gather — and he seems relieved to finally have some time to himself. He’s not quite sure what to do next. I asked if he might return to Patagonia — and then we were both suddenly very sad, remembering those months spent there — as it dawned on us that we are never to return. That was an incredibly happy chapter — but it’s over. Sounds like he’s had an email from his buddy Allen. The deck would have been finished in time for the Labor Day weekend — but last weekend’s storm got in the way. Allen was happy to drink beer and watch TV. And — Seattle traffic is driving him nuts!
I wondered what to write about. I’ve had a rocky start to the work week and would rather not think too much. The WiFi was out at the coffee shop I was at this evening. Three buses to West Seattle were cancelled — but at least Metro has finally got its act together to announce cancellations on Twitter. And for dinner, I had carrots, red kale, and a red potato with pink flesh inside — topped with butter and black pepper.
Anyway, Mark suggested going through an old notebook (not my elementary school notebook!) and picking something. A few years ago, I had a daily writing prompt habit. An app on my iPhone generated two random words — and this is what the two words in the above title prompted:
The words canter playfully across the page. The sentences are short — or perhaps not. Words come to a screeching halt and snort and dig their toes into the page. Then they spin on the page and launch themselves into the air — and are off again — fast as lightning in the other direction — only to turn once again and stop — before leaping into the air and and racing off at full speed.
But then there is a new idea — and the words want to slow down. They are sensing a presence. Something different. Something that needs to be investigated closely and carefully. And they draw towards it — slowly and quietly — hesitating and stopping — snorting into the air. What is this?
Bedtime can’t come soon enough tonight!