Anybody listening?

 For seven years now, by the little listing off to the side, and maybe a couple years earlier in its email days, writing my post was part of my morning schedule.  Get up, feed the cats, gather up my coffee and yogurt, sit down in front of the computer and while I am drinking and eating write my post, afterwards there is the reading of the paper and painting and lunch and a nap and then killing time and crap tv and off to bed.  Actually I used to do a lot of stuff in between, two watercolor classes, improv, lunches with my sister and friends, condo stuff, the Ten Cat.  All wiped out by the corona, though the Ten Cat has resumed the past couple weeks.

But I was here to write about the blog not my everyday life, but you know sitting behind the keyboard is a lot like getting behind the wheel of a car, which ok I have not done in twenty years, so maybe it is more like slipping into my flip flops and slipping out the door, meaning maybe to pick up some stuff at Walgreens and then you notice what is this here, what is this there, what is going on with that building rising along the river, and the next thing I know I have had a little adventure and, if I remembered it, even brought back whatever it was that I meant to get at Walgreens.

You know I maybe use some experience as an example, and that gets me to thinking about that, or I use an idiom and then I wonder how that was birthed and I am off to wiki to find out, or maybe I am making some argument and I realize that I am not sure of the facts that I am marshalling and off to wiki where I will probably pick up some interesting facts that I hadn't known before.

Another thing I liked about the postings is that it kept my mind in order.  I don't know where I heard it long ago but it always stuck with me that you really don't know anything unless you can write about it.  So true.  I would sometimes find some shiny thing in the rag bag of my thoughts and take it to the keyboard only to find out that it was not as shiny as I thought it was and I had to prune it from my mental treasures.

Well I could go on and on but the yogurt is eaten and the fat black headlines beckon, so I will leave the dawgs with the question of what originally drew them to The Institute and why does it no longer do that?