Writer’s Cramp

I’m suffering, and I do mean suffering, from writer’s cramp.  Leaving the comforts of the Pelican coincides with my inspiration leaving me.  Hopefully this malady is temporary.  Treatment for this condition seems unavailable way up north.  Why is that? I ask.  Now it comes to me.  And the answer is….

Work.  Yes, work to be done around the house.  Cobwebs, dust, and dead flies from the winters absence of life here at home.  Firewood to be brought in to kick the chill out the door.  Re-stock the cupboards, freezer, the wine cooler.  And a good supply of craft beer.

Friends.  Yes friends.  Catching up on the goings on of those whom we missed for six months.  New neighbors, new maladies acquired by just being alive.  Laughter from most sadness from a few.  Catching up is sometimes hard to do.

Family.  Got to see the kids and most importantly the grand kids.  School achievements, a concert or two.  Baseball.  Yes the pastime of the ages reigns supreme every spring.  James is now a teen hitting farther, throwing stronger, playing better.  I have to watch.  Bennett not quite a teen doing the same.  But now he is a writer of all things.  And -online- too.  He’s sixty years ahead of his time, I mean my time.  And Quinn.  What a guy.  Running champ in the school.  “See my medals”, he shows.  And he’s the best hitter of the bunch.

More family.  On down the road comes Eli.  Hitter of grand slams and “monster” home runs.  I couldn’t miss them for the world, my world that is.  And Aaron the little guy.  Hell, he’s not little at all.  Biggest in his class.  Excels at everything.  He even asks “where was I before I was one?”  “How did I get here?”  I’m still working on an answer to that one.

Us.  We are both fine.  Dentists, haircuts, nails done to one of us.  Guess which one.  Stuff to do.  Cramps my style.  Cramps my writing.  This is the rite of Spring.  This is the write of Spring.