Notebook

For the past several days, the sky has been scoured clean by an icy wind blowing from the east out of the Columbia River gorge. Morning temperatures have been down around twenty degrees Fahrenheit, but the air is so dry there�s no frost. It�s an unusually early dose of winter that has everyone bundled up and shivering. At the same time, it�s so bright outside that you almost need sunglasses inside. Even now, the golden maple tree outside my window is reflecting so much sunlight that it almost hurts my eyes � and for once I�m not exaggerating. (Hard telling how long that will last.) Be that as it may, it does make me wonder why I�m not out there taking a walk and kicking through the fallen leaves.

Even though I�ve finished my ninety-day story-writing spree, I still seem to feel the need to sit here and write. I don�t know. Could it be I�m still in shock? Every now and then, while I�m busy with something else, an idea for a story will pop into my head. But I don�t do anything about it. It�s not that I�m tired, especially. I think I just want to feel done a little longer. And yet, here I am, tapping away at my keyboard. Well, the truth is, since finishing No Time to Cut My Hair, I have written a little something each day � nothing big, nothing major, and probably nothing that will ever be published, but bits of writing nonetheless. It seems ridiculous. Then again, anything does if you think about it long enough.

One thing I plan to do is read. I�m way behind on my reading. About all I managed during the last three months were the headlines and the comics, plus a few miscellaneous odds and ends, none of which I can remember at the moment. One thing I learned is, it�s hard to conduct a circus when you already have one going on. Life � what a concept. What goes on behind the scenes could just as easily be another story. In fact, if I remember correctly, a couple of the stories I did write dealt with this theme. One that springs to mind is The Story that Never Was. Let�s see. That was Story 54, posted on October 11. So if you want to know what life was like around here on that date, at least a fictionalized version, take a look.

Beyond this, only one thing is certain: nothing. But nothing is such a big subject, I think I�ll leave it for another day.