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There is no there here today. I just don't have it, whatever 'it' is. Nevertheless, I feel most comfortable here at the keyboard, where I will peck out a few lines just to see if, once limber, my fingers might have words and thoughts of their own to tap out while my mind is adrift elsewhere. It has worked before, and it centers me in a way that other available and permitted activities do not. More than once, arriving here without a plan I have lucked into an entry that contains something to please me, so I'm here to play the percentages of just showing up.

I've started with a picture of the Konza Prairie that I took this morning -- a little right-brain activity to get things started. I sat through the fellowship meeting this morning, able to listen more passively than I have in the past two years because the board is now in Kathleen's competent hands. After the meeting, the thought of another seventy-five minutes seated in the fellowship had no appeal, so I decided to visit the Konza. Not being shod for a hike, I drove to the overlook on highway 177 about four miles south of town, walked around on the paths there, and took a few pictures, once again regretting that I didn't have a 35mm camera with me.

The picture shows a sky bluer than the gray one I saw this morning. Until around 4 PM Sunday, the skies this weekend have been overcast, promising or threatening rain, and delivering only mist, humidity and an excuse not to work in the yard. The weather has been perfect, though, for reading and tending to small, indoor tasks, so I've made my way through most of the Stegner essays, and a few of the White. I've also traded E-mails with a few students and readers. I have avoided finishing the grading of the tests from Friday. Because they aren't promised until Tuesday, I am not yet procrastinating, as I see it.

This is shaping up to have been a relaxed weekend, a little indolence surrounded both Friday and today by basketball (the Lakers and Pacers go at it again in ninety minutes).

Okay, there was no there here today. Some days feathers.

I watched Notting Hill last night. Despite the appeal of both Roberts and Grant, my eyes drifted often from the video to the computer screen, where I could watch the hard disk defrag. I remain, as ever, a boor.

Old news: The cable came up Friday evening in time to allow me to watch the Lakers-Pacers game.

Reading: Stegner, One Way to Spell Man