A Few Notes

So it would appear that none of my thoughts have been stray for a while. Or perhaps they have been so stray that none of them have agreed to be captured. A few notes, then:

The air in North Carolina smells good. Not clean or like an éclair, but just good. It's not quite the air of southern California, which can hang about you, heavy with floral bloom, but it's still good.

I have a dog.

I should have lead with that. He is four or five years old, a shar-pei/pug mix, riddled with skin allergies, and is a sweet pea. Dorcas hates him. This is kind of funny, as D is too lazy to do much about it. Mostly they nap within a few feet of each other, but every now and then, Dorcas will turn into a Halloween cat, arching his back and hissing.

When you have a dog, none of your thoughts are stray. They are about walks, food, naps, and dog love.

I'd like to say that I am going to be better about posting here, but I probably won't. Writers are supposed to make their pages places of destination. A place that invites readers in and makes them feel that they have found a writer with whom they can connect. I am rather of the opinion that people who become writers do so because they are not so great at "connecting" with others.

Plus, I'm insanely private, and am going to take down the stray thought about my crushes on Garry Kasparov and Dwight Garner. I mean, really… who needs to know about that?