spring

I love this time of year. Really, I do. Things growing and so much light. I love it, but it’s not good for me.

/aside/ At age three the Girlchild was looking sad. I asked her what was wrong, and she said (and I quote): I’m thinking, and it’s not good for me.

This is a great example of early childhood acquisition. She was experimenting with ellipses, or, more simply put: she was trying to figure out which prepositional phrases she could drop. In this case she miscalculated. She meant to say: I’m thinking about bubblegum, and it’s not good for me. /aside/

Right now, as much as I love spring, it’s not good for me because my mind won’t settle down to work. However. Today progress will be made, if I have to close myself into a closet.

2 Replies to “spring”

  1. But not a wardrobe. Somehow I missed reading the Narnia chronicles as a child, and now my mind is floating around in his world. But maybe if a writer could imagine the story they are writing as emerging from the back of a closet, then closing themselves into one wouldn’t be so bad.

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