One-Sentence Journal, Weeks Ninety and Ninety-One

I’ve been writing these consistently, pencil on paper (I think I’ve only missed two weeks this year), but I’ve fallen behind in posting them. I’ll see if I can get caught up here, two weeks at a time.

  1. 04/09/2017:  An upside to occasionally reviewing books for hire is that I may lounge around on a Sunday morning drinking coffee and still feel like I’m working.
  2. 04/10/2017:  United screws the pooch again when it comes to handling a traveler, and it amuses me how people say they should have paid someone to take a different flight, as if, given the circumstances, money is the only way to motivate someone to stand in for a fellow clearly distraught.
  3. 04/11/2017:  Parked at the river with a book, I was surprised at the high level of anxiety I felt for every person — among many on a sunny, if chilly, evening — who passed with their off-leash dog running amok … illegally of course, a circumstance I’m usually not overly concerned with.
  4. 04/12/2017:  5:20 AM, nearly 50° outside, with a near full moon glowing through tears in a thick bank of clouds hanging over the mountains.
  5. 04/13/2017:  Bookstore event with John Gierach, a fantastic writer, that led to drinks afterward with a small group of friends, mostly new, in the legendary Missoula bar, Charlie B’s.
  6. 04/14/2017:  Add Butte, America to the list of places I’d love to time travel to to witness it really jumping during its heyday.
  7. 04/15/2017:  Sunshine, wind, randy birds, odd cloud formations, and grauple were all elements of a chilly and lovely Saturday that ended all too soon.
  8. 04/23/2017:  Bottles, cans, and copious cigarette butts at the river signify the return of the ignorant philistine to  my revered sauntering grounds.
  9. 04/24/2017:  My age and gender often trick people into assuming I own the bookstore, especially when I am there alone … but I’ve been accused of far worse.
  10. 04/25/2017:  The old cat grumbles and wheezes her way through a couple minutes at the kibble bowl in the hallway behind me, then shuffles back to her cushion, dragging my heart in her wake.
  11. 04/26/2017:  Like a weekend extended with a long distance lover, the lingering spring days of clouds, rain, and occasional flashes of sunlight prolong the uplift of my spirit.
  12. 04/27/2017:  On the bright side, I saw this year’s pair of great horned owlets for the first time tonight.
  13. 04/28/2017:  A three-hour nap in the afternoon was a feat of accomplishment unprecedented in recent memory.
  14. 04/29/2017:  I am an unabashed lover of the cold of winter, but I also enjoy these first warm days of spring that end with the glow of having spent an afternoon outdoors, soaking up the rays of the sun.

Author: Chris

Chris La Tray is a writer, a walker, and a photographer. He is an enrolled member of the Little Shell Tribe of Chippewa Indians and lives in Missoula, MT.

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