Porthole

End of the month hysteria ... if I let it ...

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After midnight ... cold ... 29 degrees. Spring comes back on Wednesday for an entire week ... or so they say.

I'll look over my contest offerings. Some only need editing. Others will not be done. In April I'll be focusing on my poetry and hopefully pre-packing and pre-planning for travel. I need to get out of here!

Spring weather should help though. If I don't get out today due to the cold then Wednesday I'll be looking for daffodils on my way to market.

Need to find my camera.

Bright at 11:34. A reluctant 32 degrees.

I wrote this as a comment for Sue but deleted it there:

"Memories ... a song pops up from childhood (from long before the musical "Cats"). Mine are entangled. A flash just came from Summer of '73 when I was at the U of Kansas ... I think! I know Gayle was in the flash and I know I stayed in Oliver Hall that summer; but it could be Spring of '73 in McCollum Hall. In other words ... just a flash image seen incompletely, no smell or sound. It's moment when nothing happened. No drama. No trauma. It was during a time when I was struggling with personal issues but obviously not hysterically. Hysterical was Spring of '72 and all of '74. Maybe we all, there were 4 of us, were at one of their places ... which would explain the fuzziness." Or maybe '74 just before I left for CR?

That's the problem. I either have nothing to write about or simply cringe at the idea of sharing. The 30 Day Blog Challenge seems to focus on us 'getting to know each other's dirt' or 'recounting our bland E-rated existence'. I'm either triggered like a s***-flinging 80's talk-show or feel like I'm watching a '50s sit-com.

These WDC bloggers can be interesting (even when their lives seem boring or conventional) and did interact quite a bit. Many are writers. Only a couple come from my background; yet, I'm sure I could connect with all of them on some level if they were interested. It was that way in Old Blogville.

I survived one month. I'm not a story-teller. Time to just move on and do my own thing. The sad part? I'll continue blogging and I'll continue to be ignored.

Noon. Will I change my tune?

5 p.m. 38 degrees windy cold. I'm procrastinating. I've had enough coffee and just ate two potatoes, boiled, fried, smashed. I've been reading.

35 degrees and slowly slipping at 8:43.

I did some writing. When it flows it flows. Need to do some more otnight, maybe post a couple.

These are for my eyes only at the moment but I put them here to easily access:

Flash [18]: "Sally of the leeches 505 words" 
Two poems [16,17]: "Rain and tornadoes by March 31" 

In NCAA it looks like,

UConn (1) v. Arizona (3) and Stanford (1) v. South Carolina (1)
Baylor (1) v. Houston (2) and Gonzaga (1) v. UCLA (11)