Down the Dark Path

I've been a bit lax with regard to my letter writing lately, haven't felt much like putting pen to paper or words through the pen. I get into these dark moods and bury myself in books and other endeavors that don't require words. Silence is a big part of that

This morning I had to write to my landlord about the roof, including a printout of the laws regarding said roof and indicating a deadline for replacing the roof and the consequences of ignoring the deadline, which would be me putting my rent in escrow with the El Paso county clerk of courts until said roof is replaced. I'm giving him plenty of lead time, certainly sufficient time as outlined in the printout of the laws. I'm tired of being nice and expecting the landlord to do the right thing. Now is the time for serious action and serious consequences. Of course, that means I will have to find the county clerk of courts office and put my rent into escrow with them, but that shouldn't be too difficult. I've more than a month to get everything in order, and I will have everything in order just in case. I don't like surprises when it comes to such issues. Now all I need to do is decide whether or not to send the letter now or wait and include my rent check. I think now is a better choice.

I printed out the letter and envelope and got a surprise I liked -- for a change. The return address printed exactly where it should instead of being cut off as it was with the old printer. At least that is better than before, although I do miss the longer life of the ink cartridges with the old printer and the easier feed for faxing and such. I'll just have to learn how to fax with the new machine. It has an interface with my computer, both of which are HPs, and will require some manual labor on my part, but it's a small price to pay . . . I hope. Good thing I don't have to fax very often.

I do seem to be focused on minutiae more these days and letting the big things go. I haven't written much at all recently but that is about to change. I am bursting with words and stories and think it is probably time to let them go before I explode. Or not. I'm still undecided. I do enjoy cross stitching because there is a solid end in sight and it does come fairly quickly without too much fuss and very little editing, except when I get off a stitch or miscount. Those instances are happening less and less as I get back to near the level of proficiency I once enjoyed twenty years ago.  It has taken some time, but the effort is well worth it and stitching every day closes the gap between efficiency and inefficiency very quickly. I wonder if it would help my writing. I guess I'll find out soon enough.

Writing a letter to a friend was the first step on the road back to getting some books finished. There are end points in sight but the path between first and last words has been dark and full of dangers. Good thing I'm not the shrinking violet type (for long) and eventually I get back up on my feet and stark hiking, no matter how much it hurts at first. I'll hit my stride and the pain of disuse will disappear -- to be replaced by the pain of use. At least there will be accomplishment. That's something.

Now, where did I leave the Epsom salts?

That is all. Disperse.