Ramble.

A friend of mine, whom I have never actually met face-to-face, asked me recently about why I stopped writing regularly.

I tend to answer written questions quickly and honestly; when I'm face-to-face, I think, I ponder, I reflect, and I obfuscate. 

I answered:  "I found that the sound of my own voice to be tedious to mine own ears."

Still true; and combine it with the fact that, as one of the temporarily unemployed, I have nothing but household chores, re-runs of BURN NOTICE, and the sound of my own voice.

I have been writing; working on a couple of projects, but those are limited to the OneDrive on my computer and my Surface...and let me tell you.....it's been like slogging through molasses.  In January.  Uphill.  Both ways.

Some of it may see the light of day; I make jokes that I have about 70 pages, and I haven't begun to make my point yet.  The truth is, I've made my point, and am now beating it to death with a garden hose filled with sand.

I was in Minneapolis recently; I decided to attend a study group that the scion society I belong to runs every month; they are called The Norwegian Explorers of Minnesota, and they follow the career of a fellow formerly known as Sigerson, whose former address is now a museum in Baker Street in London.

It was interesting to sit in a room full of strangers, discussing a short story written over a century ago; a few fully aware of Conan Doyle's contribution to detective fiction, a few smirking at the thought of a 'literary agent' taking credit for Dr. John Watson's genius.  The conversation was lively and they didn't stare at me when I offered my two cents.

Okay, they DID stare.  Apparently, it was a very closed circle, and I was from way, far away.  But after a while, they softened, and invited me back.

It's six hours from the Capitol City of the Northern State to Minneapolis.  I'm not going to make it a regular jaunt.

But I did get to spend an hour or so at the Mall of America.  Which was fun.  I hadn't been in a mall that big since I spent two days at the West Edmonton Mall in Alberta, back in the mid-80's.

I spent two days because, quite frankly, it was easy to lose your car.

The Mall of America has everything.

They had a place called, simply, "SUGAR!"  Guess what they sold?

I looked at other places as I walked around the multiple levels, but frankly, they had me at SUGAR.

And...well.....I got nothing else going on right now.

Except for breakfast.

Now.