The Cruelest Joke

Who else could take a break from their bookwork for Uncle Sam and look upon a mountain and see the calves we branded Wednesday, grazing with their mothers? Though it seems so unfair to ruin the prettiest time of the year here with tax accounting, even in a drought, I feel blessed. Thanks to Robbin, our ranch records are substantially better since she took over the daily bookwork in an organized manner.

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I awoke early with loose numbers on my mind that tried to interfere, with some success, with my writing time. Language and math must reside on different sides of the brain, or some aspect of them, drawing battle lines in my head. The numbers usually win and I hate my smugness afterwards, finally with an answer. But usually balanced-out quickly with a poem, this morning’s offering is my first effort ever finished, mid-accounting.

Though I don’t pretend to understand it, I find the creative mindset interesting. So much depends on our eye, how we see things as individuals as we appeal to something common within us all, by adding our perspective. So opposite from filling out IRS forms. Done, time to let it rest overnight.

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