bojojoti: (Magic Camera)
It was 76° and sunny Saturday.  Snow was on the ground Sunday.  Tonight the low is supposed to get down to 15°.  The wheat crop is in danger.  The word is that it may be as poor a crop as 2007.  Thank God, I'm not a farmer.  Especially in Kansas, where, if the floods don't drown it, the droughts will shrivel it up, the hail will beat it to death, the sun will bake it, the cold will freeze it to extinction, or the winds will blow it away.

In happier news, I attended a writing class taught by Nancy Pickard, a highly-regarded mystery writer.  She was very pleasant, interesting, and informative.  Regrettably, I hadn't read any of her books, as my tastes in mysteries tend to the gentle medieval ones (Brother Cadfael, I love thee) or the proper Victorian ones (my dear Sherlock Holmes).  I may have to rectify that.

Speaking of writing, I have a 25-page paper due for class in about a week.  Have I started?  No.  I have no ideas.  I can write copious amounts of words once I have an idea that inspires me.  Without inspiration, I have no words.  Inspire me, please.  What is faith?

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bojojoti

June 2013

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