Another gray autumn day. A heavy rain is drenching my new lawn. I can tell where the low spots are by the gray puddles. I will have to add some soil to raise those areas in the spring. Something about rainy mornings--the coffee tastes especially good, black, bitter, slowly stirring my brain to life. So what thoughts arise, sparked by caffeine, on this gloomy morning? If any?
As my family arises, my concentration is shattered. Noise and questions drive away any contemplations. That is the problem with working at home. I really should find some other place to work--the bakery or the library perhaps. I can handle public noises better than domestic ones. I have always worked well in cafes. In college I got most of my work done in the student lounges. I wrote a good deal of my textbook in the cafeteria at Pierce College in Steilacoom while waiting for my son who was attending classes with running start. There is something comforting about the buzz and hum of people coming and going, the hiss of espresso machines, the clatter of dishes, conversations that flow in the background like river water over stones.
I am about to begin the major rewrite of all the chapters. For that I think it is time to seek out the public places that are paradoxically more private.
No comments:
Post a Comment