Formerly known as Dominion Day, Canada Day, this year, today, Wednesday, mid-busy-workweek, feels little more than a day of rest. Thursday's month-ending at work. Trying not to think on that. I've hung the red Maple Leaf boat-pennant in the window with care. Hoping ours, and others, keep safe in those wars I'm saying nothing more on today. Staying away from ranting, I've decided. As long as possible today, into tonight, keeping myself blissfully ignorant of...oh, that's almost a rant. Just adding I'll keep the news off.
In a brilliant distancing move, I've already gone walkies.
Down to the river. And snapping pix. Sixty-four snapshots in one half-hour. Way too much sunlight blowing out details. That's because I slept in. But I needed the sleep. And I needed to fill my head with the walk through tree-filled Marpole to the river. Stood there, like a tree, filling up on sunlight and sea breeze, and whispering river.
There's writing I wanna do. Some I have to do. Those exercises, too, in Protag's Groups. By another name, they're writin' workshops. And reminding how much fun writin' and workshoppin' it was a thousand years ago in school. Anyone can join any group. They're such a new addition to the fun'ness of Protag that there are certain to come more groups. Genre-writing, prob'ly. So far, we have groups re Poetry, Editing, World-Building...
...That reminds me...I should point Bolsheviki at this fun'ness.
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