Ken Morrill

OED on the way into the home from the cold midwestern distance. I tracked it using Google Maps and now I wait inside my crowded den, excellent LCDs, Enya playing - Book of Days. Much reading already today, much more to go, when the volumes arrive, if all goes well. Much to move into the house, it is as it would be with an encyclopedia. So much more in the avenue of dreams.

Down in the shadows of the hike, the walk in the woods of the Maryland portion of the Appalachian Trail, getting that from accounts, not experience, because for me it was challenging. The rest must be much harder than I have known.

As it could be in the rich avenue of trees, more than a writing environment: production of every sort, but holding back I am not sure why, but not completely - I am doing more than many, although not as much as I want to do. Audio capability is one sad missing step - so much prep for it, but little done, despite much opportunity.

Journal

In the bright light of a new day, as the wind blew through the solid town, down by the river, I remember Lewiston, walks to the river, was it the Androscoggin - the name of the county. From Mt. David seeing distant hills, all was a wonder, small here but looking out to a wide place, much to see. Long the shot of the wind, each planet mystery. How I could know what was real, what I could do, what become. Sue Preeshl (later Artemis) walked up the hill after a dance. I liked her Freshman year, in the class about The Good Life - reading theories about what constituted it and writing papers using a writing technique: beginning with the Tentative Organizing Idea and proceeding from there, bigger ideas becoming the topics of paragraphs, the fleshing out of an outline. But she had a boyfriend she met on campus even before the school year began. Yet the next morning, after waiting so long for her to be free, she told me there was nothing.

Why I would continue to study, I do not know. I knew enough to proceed, only I thought I could gain greater depths, so I kept trying until I was forced to stop. I went as far as they would let me. I had hoped for a different outcome, but I have had a good life ever since leaving it. Some struggles, yes, hard work, but for the most part a very good life, thanks to the Internet.

I have charged ahead with a heft of ignorance. I am looking forward to my Oxford English Dictionary, on the way, heavy in weight, a delight to read by all accounts.

If one wants to be understood, it will be in publication, but I am completely embarrassed by my raw thoughts.

The train is not completely evil; it is a good time to meditate, daydream, and think. I want to say pray but I don’t enough.

What else can one do with the segment of the day but rationalize why it is good? Truly it is better to work from home without commuting - so much more can be done and enjoyed. If one must travel, then make the most of it, but if one can, stay at home where it is cozy and warm.

We are making the turn at Point of Rocks, next comes the run past Buckeystown to Monocacy. My stop is Frederick. A word picture is better to me than a real picture, but I must be wrong. Anyway, it is what I should know how to make.

Snow and ice finally melting into the ground.

Snoozing is the best way to pass the time. A cat nap with sweet daydreaming refreshes the body and the mind.

Journal