It’s been a lazy past couple of days. I can’t blame the weather—much. It’s 102 degrees F at the moment. Supposed to get to 106 on Monday.
I grew up in the 70s, the time of giant afros, bell-bottoms and Disco Duck, sure, but also the time of ecology, oil embargos, and burgeoning awareness of energy conservation, so I feel guilty turning on my A/C and often make do with cold showers, colder drinks, and fans. But today, I bit the bullet and turned it on, not only because it’s so freaking hot, but I don’t want any distractions. I want to finish The Reckoning Flames. I really, really want to finish it, and me flopping about, miserable and kvetching about the temperature won’t help. (I don’t understand this “suffering for your art” hornswaggle. If I lived broiling—or freezing—in a garrette, I wouldn’t get a word written. Get a job to pay the bills and instead of watching TV in the evening, write. Problem solved.)
Anyway, so the air is on, my tea is iced, and I’m diving right back into Rabbit’s trials and tribuations after this blog break. And while there have been no geese flying south for the winter yet, I can tell through my powers of observation (and reading the calendar) that cooler weather is just around the corner.
I can’t wait.