Bagpipes on the breeze

I haven’t had a chance to do any writing, either on “The Winds of Patwin County” or the outline for The Outer Darkness, since Monday. Since then I’ve been too busy with work and school to focus on my creative writing, and I’m beginning to feel The Itch. It’s something I’ve never really paid attention to before, but if I go for several days — and it’s usually several weeks or even months between bouts of creativity — without writing, I start feeling unfocused, frustrated, and restless. I suppose I should have noticed that before, and it could be that it’s just a coincidence right now as well (I almost always feel unfocused and restless), but I think it’s worth investigating. So as soon as I finish this post, I’ll open up the “Winds of Patwin County” file and try to slug out a couple hundred words and see how that makes me feel.

In the meantime, I’m sitting at my desk in our home office, right next to the window, which is wide open at the moment. Less than a mile away is the D— Mayfair, a fairgrounds right here in D—. Something happens there every couple of months; in May, there’s the Mayfair, a three-day long festival of the things that our town is famous for: crafts and sheep. There are also rides and music, though our town is less well-known for these. Typically, we get second-runs from the eighties such as Joan Jett and the Blackbirds, or Sammy Hagar (I’m not kidding on this; imagine a field full of rednecks and John Deere cap wearing farmers thrashing to heavy metal and you can get a decent picture of how things can get around here sometimes). I think we also had Alison Krause one year, which I am sorry I missed.

Right now, the Mayfair is hosting the D— Scottish Games. The Games have, incidentally, been voted the Best One Day Scottish Games in the United States, which is impressive considering that this is only the fifth year that these particular games have been around. So in addition to our sheep farmers and our head-thrashin’ tractor drivers, our town boasts possibly the largest Scottish subpopulation in the region.

The point of all of this is this: that right now, as I sit writing at my desk next to my open window facing the Mayfair, I can hear bagpipes, the volume waxing and waning as the breeze waxes and wanes. I can also hear Tempest, one of my favorite bands, who showed up for the first time two years ago. They’re good music; if you like Celtic rock then you probably have already heard of them and have a couple of their albums. If you’re just finding out about Celtic music, you should check them out.

Today should be an interesting day. My folks are coming up in about an hour to go to the Scottish Games with me; then after that we’re all headed to the church for the second-hand ball that Jennifer has arranged. I’m readying my surreality meter.

Now to the writing.