By MONTE DUTTON

I breezed through Laurens County on Thursday. It was an economical trip. I went to the post office, discovering to my surprise that the box wasn’t crammed. A big manila envelope was inside, but it was to an address where a large comma had been mistaken for a “1.” It took longer to explain what had almost surely happened than it did for me to solve this small mystery.

These things happen.

Then I went by Clinton Tire to check on my old pickup, still stranded there until I can hitch another ride home to get it.

I’m getting more patient. Everything takes more time than I think. Sometimes patience bites.

I met my friend John Clayton for lunch at Steamers and enjoyed seeing the gang there. Emily Bailey and Buddy Bridges said hello. I had a doctor’s appointment, then went to Sadler’s to pick up some meds.

Incredibly, and this may have changed since yesterday, gasoline is cheaper in North than South Carolina. I may have to break a long habit of filling up right before I leave the Palmetto State or right after I get there.

I hoped to participate in something called the Third Thursday Open Mic — it’s for both writers and musicians — at the Transylvania Community Arts Center, but I sat on a concrete wall for 45 minutes outside a locked door, reading about how to write screenplays on my phone, until I concluded the mic was not open. It probably picks up in the fall.

I’ve got a heap of new business cards with precious few to give them to so far. I’ve never had a business card that I came close to using up before it was time to get another. Then again, I’ve never lived anywhere where I knew so few people. Allegedly that is why I need business cards.

Johnny Cash sang, “When I get into that city, people gonna stoop and bow.” This has not been my experience. It takes time.

The shoebox is a great place to work, though. As I read about screenplays, I keep doubling back to amend what I’ve already written. It’s going well. It’s going slowly, though. I’ve been writing the screenplay The Graduate Transfer from the unpublished text of the novel The Graduate Transfer. Novels are much longer than screenplays. It’s hard, a little painful, to slice out the unnecessary to make the story simpler.

The Open Championship on TV provides almost as peaceful a writing background as music.

Meanwhile, three friendly, unassuming mallards are almost always nearby. One is cream-colored. I looked it up. That mallard is leucistic.

Wellpilgrim.com takes its name from John Wayne, who liked the phrase, and the Kris Kristofferson song “The Pilgrim: Chapter 33, Hang on, Hopper.” The title of the site comes from my favorite song, Michael Burton’s “Nightrider’s Lament.”

If you’d like to contribute to the site, I can be reached at Adventure Village #6, 15 Adventure Ridge Road, Brevard, N.C.    28712.

I’d appreciate it if you’d consider buying one or two or five of my books, which are available on Amazon and at other bookseller sites. Two novels, Cowboys Come Home and Lightning in a Bottle, are available in audible versions.