Old saying: Some days you eat the bear and some days the bear eats you. Some days you wake up and you don't feel so frisky and you head is pretty foggy and you feel wasted like when you partied all night, even when you didn't. Some days , clear sailing. I guess it is a good year when there are more of the former and fewer of the latter.
First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is. It could be a mountain. It could be a clear thought, a clear head. It could be a dream.

What do I need in order to be ready to write seriously again:

• At least 5 new gel pens, fine point, with the thick base so my fingers don't cramp
• At least six yellow pads, regular size, not legal (they don't fit in the lap so well)
• A clear head
• All my phone calls for the next four years completed
• Groceries stockpiled for at least three months
• Correspondence completely up to date
• Absolute silence
• Good dreams
• Restful sleep
• All health issues resolved
• All laundry, towels, sheets, blankets clean, folded and put away
• A shelf full of reference books
• One large roll of white butcher paper
• Blue tape (safe for walls)
• 50 pounds of bird seed
• The right mood
• More words

There are clouds gathering over the mountain in an otherwise clear blue sky here. Gathering clouds sounds like something Chinese. There is a 40 per cent chance of snow tomorrow. The green chili chicken soup is simmering on the stove. The birds are eating like crazy--need more seeds. But now we do have the 50 pounds.

I actually started working on the voice of the book day before yesterday. Yesterday we spent in town going to doctors, groceries, pharmacies, labs, and Wild Oats.

Maybe complete seclusion and someone to put trays of soup in front of my door a couple of times a day.