It's only been a week.

Pam and I went to dinner last night at Panera's. She had a desire for soup and sandwich and she knows I'll go to Panera pretty much any time. 

Once comfortably ensconced at a table with our respective soups and sandwiches ("You Pick Two", for the win), she said another reason to take me to dinner was to mention my usual talkative self had been strangely silent for almost a week. She was a mite concerned I was in a deeper than usual funk or rut or rutted funk. 

No, I'm still here. I have a number of things I could post about but I've not felt the calling to write. It ebbs and flows like a stream. Some days the stream is swollen, filled with words rushing headlong downstream and it's all I can do to grab them. Other days, it's a casual meander, pooling in the quiet just waiting to be noticed. 

Lately, it's been a trickle. There are ideas in the shadows but they stay there. They aren't completely formed and wish to grow a bit before coming into the light of day. I can't say the stream is frozen because even a frozen stream has a life way at the bottom, ever moving. 

I'm collecting thoughts and photos and will be posting a great many things soon. My unstated goal has always been to have a post a day. It would be more than ironic that last month, with 31 days saw me way over and this month, with the shortest number of days, way under. 

But then, I've always been a fan of the ironic. 

Beverage:  Dr. Pepper

Deb