Late January. Buried deep in work, buckets and pales and cans filled with print, type, hard cover books, soft cover books, and click click click of keyboard text typing. All of this and long nights spent going through material, extracting information from resources once unheard of and now understood. From seven a.m. through nine p.m. Monday through Thursday is beating me up like a street boxer beating a frozen raw meat carcass hanging on a hook at the local butcher downtown sometown. Only to sleep and wake to begin it again. It is not that bad, just feels like that sometimes, but at the end of the day,..to truthfully describe what a full day feels like, I should reference a blue sky and a fine grain white sand beach sun tan, a cool ocean dive off the coast of Mexico, a couple cold coronas on ice and a bottle of rum, a winters snow and a hot coco, a long night sleep and a 6:30 wake up to coffee and toast and eggs and bacon and the paper and another cup of coffee, a brisk Minnesota morning walking with dog down the road into the winds of the farm land frozen over, Life is good and there is no boxer beating raw meat,..there is a spring time ahead.
Listening to The Frames - For The Birds
"I feel my wheels are turning,..I see the open road before us stretch"
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