Honestly, gang. I cannot believe it is already Monday again. Time to drive back into town and go get the groceries. It feels like I just did that!!

However, the fact that I have only a pint of blueberries and 2 cartons of yogurt in the fridge assures me that it is indeed Monday. So off I will go to town (the next county), as soon as I’m done posting this.

(And the good news continues, as the number of active cases in the next county continue to plummet!) (However, what continues to rise, is the number of college students coming to Ohio with active COVID 19 cases… Ohio has tons and tons of colleges including the massively huge Ohio State University, which just announced 922 new cases!! ) ( I am exaggerating, gang!!!! But it’s just a ridiculous amount of college kids here, heading in to college infected.) (Hope their summer was nothing but FUN.)

I also cannot believe it is now the last day of August. Sometimes I feel like I am just going to sail off into oblivion, and that the fears & politics sustaining this current virus are never going to leave our culture (and where were the “politics” when 60 MILLION Americans had swine flu in 2009 and the country did not shut down??), and that this is just it and that my life, happy as it actually is, is just sort of over. And that each day, I’m simply sailing deeper into the sweet hereafter. Because nothing makes sense anymore — even while I’m gaining clarity on more and more things in my private world (and my private world is the only thing I take with me into the sweet hereafter, right? So….).

Well. I guess only time will tell if I’m actually still alive here or not.

The petunias are still looking great, but there are fewer and fewer blooms as they begin to bloom themselves out — a sure sign that September is on its way. It’s bittersweet. But we still have  several more weeks of blossoms ahead of us. And my toad is still doing great! Whenever it gets super hot, he still comes to sleep in the soil in that one specific planter on the front porch. I think he’s had a terrific summer. He looks really hardy!!

Yes, the erotic short story (“Half-Moon Bride”) continues… Each day, when I sit down at my desk to begin working on it, I think to myself: this is probably it; it’s probably going to come to the end today. And yet, I am always completely and thoroughly wrong.

And not only has the story not yet come to an end — even though I now know how it will end, I just have no clue how we’re getting there — I spent quite a good chunk of time yesterday, writing several pages of ridiculously filthy stuff, only to realize it was meant for another story altogether.

Yes, that’s correct. Over the weekend, while I was feverishly scribbling away on “Half-Moon Bride,” several other additional erotic short stories began coming to me, and so I was scribbling notes on those, at the same time

Too weird, right?? This sudden outburst of erotic short stories, while I have been focusing on erotic novels and memoirs for such a long stretch now? It feels like a proverbial dam has burst, or something, and now I am scrambling to keep up with the flow.

But anyway. Yes, so I worked on that whole section yesterday afternoon, and then realized, when I stole down to the kitchen to grab something quick to eat , and was on my way back upstairs to my desk: Wait! That whole thing is for a different story!!

So, I sat down at my desk, looked at the manuscript, and thought: Jesus. I need a break here. And so then I went back downstairs and watched the final episode of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries from way back in Season 1 (2012), and tried to air out my brain. Then I began watching that brand new special full-length movie, Miss Fisher & the Crypt of Tears (2020). I only watched about 15 minutes of it, though, before I made myself go back upstairs and write some more.

I don’t know how many of you loyal readers of this lofty blog can remember all the way back to the spring of 2018, right after I first moved here? I happened to glance out an upstairs window one Saturday afternoon, as it had suddenly started to rain, and I saw this amazing teenage boy — long blonde hair, tall, lean, beautiful, wearing a plaid shirt, blue jeans — standing in the yard across the street from my house, right by the railroad tracks. And he was sort of rapturously taking in the sudden downpour. And I immediately fell  (maternally) in love with him and wished he were my kid! The joy, the freedom, coming out of him, and also the fact that he was just standing there, totally alone and so happy.

Well, I don’t know how old he actually is, but I think he’s still in high school — perhaps a senior now? (Meaning, his final year.) But he is clearly old enough to drive and now owns a motorcycle! And this is a very recent development.  All weekend long, (no helmet, of course), he was riding a blue motorcycle all over the streets of Crazeysburg, always coming to a stop at the STOP sign just outside my house, so that’s how come I knew for sure it was always him.

I was up here working away on the intensely filthy erotic tome, I’d hear the motorcycle come to a stop outside, I’d glance out the open window, and there he’d be — so fucking free and beautiful. And then off he’d go.

Boy, was he happy on that thing. And he is still so fucking CUTE. Long hair still,  but in a ponytail now. Just so young and so free.Alas,  I really wish he was my kid…

Although, when I was in Junior High and High School, I had no less than 4 male friends  die from motorcycle wrecks in the space of 3 years.  So, if I actually were his mom, I’d probably be freaking the fuck out over that fucking motorcycle and the “helmet optional” laws here in the State of Ohio… (And yes, I realize, I’m actually old enough to be his grandmother…)

Well, all righty.

I suppose I will close this and head into town now.  I hope you’re having a great Monday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. This morning, we were back to the Nocturama CD  by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds (2003), specifically the song “Right Out of Your Hand”. So I leave you with that today! Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

Right Out of Your Hand