So, no more book project doings for a while. A fortuitous occurrence for me, or maybe I am making the best of it. I have no idea. Today I worked on If You Come to a Fork in the Road – I am moving chapters around. The history of the Alaska State Fair and the History of VCRS (the local recycling center) are now up front. They are both in the third person and not as interesting as my first-person and interview accounts. I know it will be a stretch for readers who will understandably want to get to the good bits. But I think they will keep their attention as an importantly provide a much-needed context.

Pete and I got horses out today. I rode Hrimmi and Pete walked Tinni down Murphy Road, to the creek. And later, I rode Tyra and Pete walked Raudi around the loop. The walk/ride pair up was (I think) a smart way to go. The horses that were ridden had not been out in a while – having them go out with buddies further relaxed them.

We call their dependence upon one another in times of duress the parachute question, the question being, are you or I going to go first? The horse being ridden, unsure of herself, stops and waits to see what the horse being walked will do. The horses being walked have seen it all and really don’t care about what’s

Alys and Hrimmi

going on. This worked for us today. Hrimmi and I passed a neighbor who was cutting wood – he felled a tree right as Hrimmi and I were passing. Hrimmi stopped and glanced at Tinni who was oblivious to what was going on. Then she, realizing she had nothing to worry about, moved on. And Tyra stopped when on the loop trek, a white car came backing down the driveway in our direction. Raudi gave this no thought, so neither did Tyra.

Pete worked at home in the morning, on his online classes, and then worked some on his chainsaw book. It’s nice, having him around.

Now, if there was no pandemic, I might have gone into the recycling center and worked getting books ready for distribution. But there is, and so I am working at home.

I now understand why people are reluctant to retire. In a very short order I got used to again being a worker bee, one with a commute and lengthy days. Now that I’m again working at home, I am coming to realize that once the virus is no longer vital, that I am going to have to find that lost balance again. Maybe I was merely practicing writing avoidance. Writing is hard, and sometimes lonely work. It’s way easier and more fun to sort, categorize, alphabetize, and distribute salvaged books, particularly if one, as I do, suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder, or should we call it disarray.

Being the Bright Lights Book Project coordinator also provided me with affirmation that writing does not. With writing, the sense of affirmation has to come from within, because the day-to-day accomplishments (which involve problem solving) aren’t as tangible as are when one gets a book or books into appreciative hands.

I need both. I am just going to have to work at finding that elusive balance.

Next: 79. 3/20/20: Going Nowhere, Fast