Not Feeling Screedy

Baroque / Francesco Guardi/ Nighttime Procession in Piazza San Marco

I keep fishing about for something worth spending some time jotting down my thoughts. Lately the clown car that is American politics has been so stupid that I steer away from the imbecility and look elsewhere for my cantankerous muse.   But the overall muse has been escaping me.  I appear to be lost in the weeds of the mundane.  Higher thoughts are keeping a respectful distance.

I am not so much complaining as stating the facts on the ground.  I am certain that the muse will return, but when and if that bitch returns I am not at all certain I will be fully appreciative of the gifts she will bring.