Early this morning, I see an email from my realtor in my inbox:

Note: I blocked out her name in all the captures.

Right away, I noticed something; something aside the fact she wouldn’t ask me for “urgent help”. I noticed her signature was missing her phone number and realtor info.

I correctly surmised her e-mail had been hacked, and this was someone running a scam. So, I answered.

Again, I blocked out her name. Hint, if you are in e-mail contact with me, I always have a signature under my name; a saying that’s easily recognized as coming from me.

Anyway, it went on . . .

Some — not many — might have noticed a serious derth of new fiction writing on my part.

Whenever I’ve not written for a while I need a kick-start to get my inner writer up off his butt. The way I normally do that is to read as much of my stuff as I can untill the desire to write overwhelms my desire to do other stuff.

That’s what I’ve been doing this past few weeks and it’s working . . . sort of. I read some of what I’ve written and wonder where that clever writer has gone.

For instance (slightly edited from the original to fix a few things):

I have many photos waiting for the light of blog.

I have many opinions, too, about all sorts of things. Practically on an hourly basis, I read or see something that sparks me wanting to say (write) something.  Plus, you know, the airwaves and interweb are filled with opinions about this or that thing. It’s obvious to me The World wants my thoughts added to the fray. Why wouldn’t it? Occasionally, they’re even good thoughts (in my opinion).

In fact, I have engaged in a few discussions, but I don’t deem it time yet for me to explore any of the topics here on my blog.

Sure, it will happen, but not today. Today, I write about writing. Yes, yes, I’ve written much about writing, all of it unsolicited and lacking the foundation of any credentials worth spit.

Well, here’s more.

Have you ever had so much pent up inside that instead of producing a flood of content you end up being creatively constipated and produced next to nothing?

No? . . . it must just be me, then, and when it happens, I fall back on posting a few photos and talking about random stuff.

These are all photos from the P900, and most of them are shot at maximum zoom. If not right at 2000mm, then pretty close to it. For instance, the above is a shot from the third-floor balcony of a flower on the far side of the pool below us. 

All of these will be in a gallery at the end of the post and the originals are in THIS SmugMug Gallery. You can also click on the individual photos for a larger version. 

Anyway, earlier today I had yet another urge to write me some fiction but, I resisted. Well, actually, more like procrastinated by snacking and surfing for articles about . . . well, dang! . . . I don’t rightly remember right now, but I’m sure it was important at the time. Productive, too. And, of course, worthwhile. 

When someone wants to see if something is alive they often check for a heartbeat.  A blog’s heartbeat […]