I woke up needing coffee but I was not in my own bed. Of course this has happened much more than I care to admit but not since Obama beat whoWASthat? Oh, right Sarah Palan. It's all coming back to me now.

So, here I am in a king sized bed so big you can lay anyway and still fit. Crossways, sidewise, and regular. No one else was in the bed such as my baby Olin and where was he? His stuffed owls and a condor are here, alls well.

I'm up high only 1 feet below two skylights with a view of rain. Oh yes, I rented this place. It's a loft, artists loft so they say in downtown Portland Oregon. Portland is a series of neighborhoods that used to be towns or tracts. This tract is on the edge of the center, on the edge of Chinatown, edge of "The Pearl", to use Real Estate argot. Why is it that all the characters who have committed murders on the NANCY GRACE  network are real estate agents, like big time ones, entrepreneurs who "handle" whole housing developments that call "million dollar homes." Not houses, mind you but homes, even through not all the walls are up and the invisible squatters are still living there hiding evidence of their existence from the hedge fund operators.

Where was I? Going down, almost fall,  stairs. Down a long flight of stairs. What's a not so nice old girl doing in a place like this?

So, my little engineer Grandbaby took the tops off the 4,r,t,g,h, and ] keys. Before now, I had no idea how much I use the T. And how much I still hunt and peck. No letter on so many  keys! Pressing on nubbins does not feel good.

Now to the topic of writing per se....

I'm back to my old technique of writing in my sleep. Here's how it goes. First I read three books to my 3 year old grandson (such as Thidwick the Big Hearted Moose with the pages featuring hunters removed, then we make up two stories together ("Once upon a time there was a small, little, tiny, wee, small  ______ who lived _____. He had a friend named ____" ..... Then that I hum my progeny to sleep, Then after his eyes have been shut for a few minutes (we co-sleep) I read to myself pages from a book I use as reference for my book, such as THE BUTTE IRISH by Emmons, then I turn off the globe light and fall to sleep with an agenda of working what I just read into my writing. Often as not, I do manage to write from this sleep time memory. It's my way to not have to look things up as often to get the facts right. Now this is the least entertaining blog I have yet written...