Sometimes, longhand is best.
Doodling, for instance. Unless you’re gifted in the use of online graphic tools, doodling calls for pen or pencil and paper.Doodling is the sedentary equivalent to aimless walking.
Scribbling. You can’t do that on a computer screen. Writing love letters. Scathing attacks on folks who may or may not recognize themselves – or who might respond with words more scathing still. Best done in longhand and examined from every possible angle, afterwards. To shred? To re-work as appropriate for this character or other?
Longhand and reading. Received my copy of Aldous Huxley’s Antic Hay yesterday. Brought it along for companionship during my two outings back into the coaching world. Not that either session allowed for private reading. Sometimes, a book in the school satchel is something like the promise of an unopened parcel. I started reading last night and this morning. Feel no compunction to race through at blood-pounding speed. It’s not that kind of book.
Headlines – the wonderful world of. Last night? One of the fast-news features told the world all the world was to know about the French Prime Minister’s “Secret Dinner” with nine or ten of his merry band. From which one gathers at least one of the merry band of ministers played Brutus or Judas to the press. (Of course, hypocritical reader that I am, I read all about it with delight. With shades of far-away reminiscing about far-away days in a ministerial cabinet and the less-than glorious business of negotiations between governments and trade unions.)
Whereto? To mundane stuff with breaks away through reading, writing, scribbling, doodling, daydreaming. The sun’s out, the dog snores, annoying stuff awaits.