Back to the Garbage can… I find myself looking for a wireless signal like Wee Willi Winkie, all through the house. The latest best shot is right next to the back door with the laptop precariously balanced on top of the plastic garbage container. You just never know where these spots of connection will show up.
I read Stephen King did some really good work in a laundry room with a child’s desk balanced on his knees. The surroundings really don’t seem to matter. I write because I have to. My husband was worried because we can’t always get attached to the Internet, we’re just picking it up as it flies by the house. I told him not to fear…as long as I have a stub of a pencil and walls to write on I can make myself happy, some of these stories just delight me some make me cry but all of them (poems included) satisfy something in me. I guess that’s what they mean when they say that’s what makes a writer, it’s not something you choose to do, it’s something you must do. Must be the way some folks feel about fishing or humming a tune or painting it’s all about just keeping yourself happy. I hope you enjoy it. Meanwhile, I’m off in search of a signal…I feel like a human geiger counter!