Loosely Defined

Something got me thinking about lifestyles. New local reader came up to me at lunch, I think of him as a Zen Psychologist, because he is one. I enjoy our usually fairly short dialogs. He's sensitive about my space and asks considered questions. And I do value intelligence and good conversation. Miss B in that regard. We are now loosing those leaves that dry and hang on through the winter, they're being set free by the expanding bud underneath. The beeches do this, and some oaks, and trees that are dying. It must offer some limited protection, but what's the down side if almost all deciduous trees lose their leaves completely in the fall and early winter? I've looked at this phenomena for years, and know almost nothing about it. A great many things, in nature especially, interest me, and I slip them into an open file, which, I've found, actually attracts information. I mention it to someone or write about it, and the next thing you know, I've got a doctoral dissertation on 'Robin Hood', or a list of books I need to read. Writing is an interesting thing. Not thinking about letter writing, which is a whole other can of worms. But creative writing in all its various guises. A solitary thing at both ends, the writing, the reading, unless it's read out loud, and that's another can of worms, interpretation, direction, a play. I just removed a comma, because, as I said out loud, "I want it run on..." and I can spend whatever time I want to make it what I think I want. Two moments at the museum today were either precious or radiant. Pegi was a few minutes late, Tammy was in her office, Trish was sitting, and I was standing at Tammy's door, leaning against the jam, moving a little side-to-side, scratching an itch. She came in and we were all silent. She said, "What?" and no one spoke. After a carefully timed pause, I said, "Pegi, your office looks like teenager's bedroom." Of course she did have three teenagers in there yesterday, doing a little routine for the reception, and they had left clothes everywhere, and Pegi's filing system seems to involve the floor. It was a mess. My next challenge is D's desk, I'm not shocked, certain times you let things slide; I've been on both sides of the equation, but I am a student of piles and this one is ready to slip. That sounds like more than it meant, I'd better go; her grandmother knew you were there all along.