It's one of those days when I think I should get something really productive done.

But I don't suppose it's necessary, really. It occurred to me the other day as I was raking the grass that it's the raking, and not the temporary pattern the rake leaves, that's important. And maybe the raking's not all that important either.

In any case, I'm kind of excited today because I'm going to submit an application to an upcoming art show. And even if I don't get to show anything, or I do and it isn't a wild success, or it is and I can buy all the gravel and drainage rock and bags of fast-setting concrete my heart desires, it's not any of that that's the happiness. The happiness is the purpose, and the sense of motion, wherever it might take me.

At the moment, the motion is taking me to the shed, and then the garden, and then the garage. Laundry's piling up, and I've got thinking to do. Laundry's great for that.