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May 18, 2020: Summertime and the Living is Easy

Springtime, and it’s pretty easy, too. I have noticed that in our area, southcentral Alaska, that people become more manic as the light returns. This also mimics the cyclic nature of the area’s vegetative growth pattern. Everything comes to life very quickly. For example, the seedlings in the kitchen have, in just a few days, come to mimic the plants in the movie Little Shop of Horrors. I found myself wondering this morning if they’d soon strangle us.

Yes, everyone seems manic, including us. There just doesn’t seem to be enough time to get it all done. And all seems to grow exponentially. I see yard projects; for instance, I wanted to cut down the brush and put stairwell tires in the area adjacent to the Playground of Higher Learning. I still want to do this – but I am telling myself that I must get my inside cabin project and my tack cleaning project done first. So far, so good.

The inside cabin project – I now have my prose poems catalogued and in order. I am next going to go through my published work, and with vitae in hand, make note of what published works remain unlisted in my vitae. And I’m going to separate out published and unpublished work.

Then, after this, I am going to take on the biggest project of all. This is going to involve going through all my drafts of “Headwinds,” an unfinished manuscript, in an attempt to next put together a publishable draft.

Ays with a poster from Bill
Ays with a poster from Bill

Uhh, this is the most daunting project task of all. I have a lot of drafts. I walked out of the cabin tonight and thought, well, I can save myself a lot of time and energy by finding the last draft I worked on – it’s on the computer. Pete arose to occasion when I mentioned this to him and said that he’d assist me in finding my most recent draft and, in addition, assist me in putting my computer files in order.

Hearing this, I breathed a sigh of relief. For the past two years, every time I look at those files, I’ve been thinking that I have been over my head on this one.

All the other writings that I found just fell into their rightful order. Not this one. The piles, like the seedlings, just seem to have a life of their own. They’ve just kept on going.

I might be wasting my time doing all this. Maybe nothing will get published. But at least I’m being a responsible self-archivist. This is important – it is going improve the morale of my biographer, who, feeling less overwhelmed, will do a better job.

I am my deceased friend Bill Fuller’s biographer. Right now his papers, journals, and photos are stashed beneath my desk. He did not, before he died, put anything in any particular order. I’m now not sure when, if ever, I will be able to do this and also write his biography. If he’d left his stuff in better order, I’d have no problem with it all. I am hoping that at some point in time, that a family member steps up to the plate and organizes this material for me.

Summer is coming. I’d like to have my own stuff in order by June 1.

139. 5/19/20: The Writing and the Riding Life

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