I now live in Louisiana. That statement is still a bit surreal. I’m half expecting to drive up to the Eagle’s offices, taking the Canal Route and then Kellogg. But I now take a road names Youree and then a parkway call Clyde Fant.
So far my apartment doesn’t have the home feel. THere are still boxes left to be unpacked but I’m not in any hurry to empty them. Don’t know why. A last bit of discovery. One last chance to say “Oh, I was looking for that.”
Writing is going slowly. Very. Slowly. I’m hoping that it will pick up. I’m thinking its because I’m a stranger in a strange land and I haven’t gotten my routine down. I hope that’s it.
I have “read” some books on CD. Have become a big fan of Janet Evonivich (not spelled this way but said like this). More on her later.
Will be reworking the list. The voice is coming. I feel it. But I will not force it because I want it to stay.
More later.
Dear Reader 