Byron's Endless Blog Morning May 21st

There used to be a feature in some newspapers called "News from Old Crow". A woman who lived in the village of Old Crow, Yukon, (BC?) would offer a weekly column on the latest happenings in the area, and larger papers would run it as a kind of amusement. It fascinated me as a child. Mostly mundane, sometimes funny, sometimes quaint, but always entertaining. I suppose I could look it up and see if it still exists, but I like having it tucked away in my memory and there it shall stay.
The appeal of "News from Old Crow" was that it was written by a nobody...in a sense. I guess she was a celebrity and probably a wonderful person, but she was a woman in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere and she was published! That fascinated me, and I greatly admired her.

I love having people read something I write like I love having people listen to music I compose. Compose? Pretentious? Moi? (Farty Towels)
Ever since I discovered the typewriter I love the sudden appearance of words on paper...the near-magic of seeing thought transformed to letters then words then sentences then paragraphs on the paper still thrills me. I am thrilled at this very moment.
And at this very moment I am sitting in my living room with my balcony door wide open allowing the morning air to cool the apartment. Outside it is doing everything but rain, and I love this expectant hush on the world. I have a morning raven who cannot stand the hush it seems, so he is awk awk awking away down the block of trees which border the alley way off my balcony. Eventually he will arrive within glaring distance with his insolence and I will take a few minutes to look him over. In a way, we are doing the same thing. I like filling a page with the alphabet, he likes the sound of his own voice.
I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I overmedicated myself and the drugs, catalysts that they be, were tryng to knock a non-existant fever from me by outfevering the fever. Sweaty and restless best describes my repose. Not that I really minded, I was busy thinking anyway. Big time thoughts like... should there be a variant of the word mind for the past tense? Say mound? Not that I mound it very much. I like it. Maybe I will incorporate it.
For the last few months, with some down time interspersed here and there, I have had the tremendous privilege to write to a loved one on a daily basis. And I sure did. Sometimes four or five emails a day, commencing within a coffee or so of awakening and generally concluding with a good night thought as my eyes were drooping clear down to this keyboard. I have lost that privilege, so this is to be my substitute. I like to think that the loved one will drop by from time to time to see what I am up to, and a blog seems a lot less threatening than a parade of unwanted emails. Not a bad solution really and there is also a chance that she will find forgiveness in her heart and decide to communicate with me again. I seem to have the power to drain women of their life giving fluids or juices or whatever it is that gives them the strength to get through a day. It's a gift I suppose, and there is no denying it keeps me single.
My goodness...look at the time! Only 52 minutes until the Seniors Center next door has their annual spring plant & bake sale. I hope the dear hearts do not mix the two up again this year. I nearly died from eating the pansy muffins last year. Hee!
Time for me to finish the half sandwich I tucked into the fridge last night. No appetite then, even less now, but this much I know....NEVER go to a bake sale HUNGRY!