“The art of life, of a poet’s life, is, not having anything to do, to do something.”
–Henry David Thoreau
Nothing
There are bears in the neighborhood.
A mink ate all my koi and goldfish.
Responsibilities vanished.
The big house is empty.
The book is done.
Age is increasing.
Work is optional.
Something
Walking.
Writing a blog.
Planting Trees.
Taking classes.
Mow less lawn.
Building a cabin.
Mulch the gardens.
Making Maple syrup.
Building a kayak launch.
Making sparkling hard cider.
Next up; ???