I keep trying to come up with something to say about the New Year, and, you know what? I got nothin’.
I am a work in progress. If I make any headway, you’ll be the first to know.
I think I started out to write about how necessity is the mother of invention… and I am not even sure now where I was going with that. I think my brain has gone to bed before the rest of me this evening. Perhaps, I was going to invent something to write about. Oh, well. Whatever it was, it’s gone. I guess I am not feeling very inventive.
I did have a moment, not long ago, when we got up to Lake Arrowhead for a brief vacation with friends, and I realized I had brought my banjo, but not my fingerpicks. I could have tried to play without picks, but I have virtually no fingernails to speak of, and, besides, I like to play with fingerpicks. So, out of necessity, I fashioned some preposterous little fingerpicks out of the poptops (from ginger beer cans) and paperclips. They were pretty silly-looking, and not the most comfortable thing in the world, but I was able to play, and that made vacation much better. For me, anyway. I can’t say anyone else felt about it.
So, maybe there is hope yet for my inventiveness. Maybe it’s just napping. If not, at least I can play my banjo.