July 29, 2017
Saturday Evening

I was thinking about what I might say in tomorrow's blog when it occurred to me that I've lost my enthusiasm for writing, no doubt temporarily, but as it's said in the hiking world, I've hit the wall. 

I've either penned a newspaper column, some sort of publication, or written a daily blog, for thirty-five years. If all were published and bound, I could probably fill a rather large library.

This lack of enthusiasm is predictable. My zest for writing wanes at least twice, sometimes three times a year. I often swear I'm finished with writing for good until a few days go by and my creative batteries recharge. It's then that my fingers get itchy and the urge to waggle them over the keyboard becomes uncontrollable.

So it's time to take a break, step out of this goldfish bowl in which Sargie and I reside, and live in blessed obscurity for a while. 

Hey, we'll see you somewhere down the road, Pentoga Road, that is.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...