I've taken a little time away from my creative thought processes. It has been a hectic month or two with my work, with quite a bit of travel as well. I just didn't find in myself the spunk to write something witty or bright.
I've always loved the writing process, the opening of my mind to thoughts and ideas just by developing a starter sentence. I used to subscribe to a writer's magazine, and there would be a contest exercise each month with a portion of a first line given. I submitted several and even got a mention once. How exciting! "John held up the..." developed into a delightful short story. I'll put it on the blog.
I wonder, though, how writers get past the moods I have been in of late, so that they might continue working on a piece to meet a deadline. My absolute favorite thing to do would be to write a daily column with information, humor and of course, my opinions. What would I do if I had nothing to say? My mentor in this area, Gene Amole, had a column in the Rocky Mountain News for many years, and even though I didn't always agree with him (I DO believe the new airport was necessary and a vast improvement over the old!), he always engaged me. I'd bring something he said up in conversations for weeks to come. And I must say, he was right on track with his annual turkey stuffing recipe! And as he was dying of cancer, he continued to write. He took us on the journey with him. He introduced us to his family. He was the Bee's Knees of journalists!
Sunday, December 6, 2009
From the Archives...an early short story
(Written in 1998, it is interesting to see how differently I conveyed thoughts then. Please excuse the dangling participles and clumsy verbiage.)
John held up the end of the coffee table while Martha diligently vacuumed beneath it, attacking any minute` speck of dust brave enough to survive yesterday's cleaning. For thirty-five years he had watched and reluctantly participated in this routine. Martha opened her eyes each morning with a mission to obliterate all germs from her home. She moved ceremoniously from room to room wiping, spraying, nit-picking, until late morning when she could declare, "Now, that's done for another day; what would you like for lunch, dear?"
Early in their marriage, John had made the mistake of questioning her obsession. He had casually remarked that her habit of daily scouring the house might be construed by some to be a mental infraction on her part. Well, actually, he had told her the neighbors were beginning to think she was crazy as a loon for her morning antics. John had not yet learned how to be dishonestly tactful when criticizing one's spouse. Martha proceeded to show him, complete with magnifying glass, the disgusting dirt particles settled on tables, among carpet fibers, and on the bottom of his shoes.
Ah, she was a loving wife and a caring mother. She had never complained when he brought clients home or when John Jr. or Penny exclaimed at the last minute that they needed cookies or cupcakes for school the next day. No, Martha met each new challenge head-on and saw it through to a triumphant end.
As John thought back over the years, he had to chuckle at the pranks he and the children used to play on her. They would deliberately track in dirt or clutter a table so that Martha would have a juicy mess to plunge into. She always scolded them for their untidiness, but somehow John suspected that she probably had been on to them from the beginning.
Now the children were gone, moved out of state and seldom able to visit. Since John had retired and was home all day, there was little opportunity to have anyone over Martha could fuss over. All John had was this daily ritual, which was as tedious to him as anything he had ever faced. Oh, if he and Martha could begin some new activity, something which would give their lives a jump-start...
"John, dear, are you all right? You can put that table down now." John was broken from his reverie to see Martha staring at him, concern in her eyes.
"Martha, I've been thinking, wouldn't it be fun to join a swim club or aerobics class or something? I figured we could go in the early morning and get the blood pumping for the day. What do you think?"
"Oh, my goodness, no, I surely couldn't do anything like that! Why, when would I have the time to get this place tidied up. You know how messy it gets during the day."
And in that moment, it all flashed before him; the years he had denied this woman he loved was anything but a loving, devoted wife and mother; his inability to face the fact that Martha might have a true problem that he had just ignored. She would never stay in hotels ("...Oh no, John, we don't know what germs might have been brought in from other people..."); dinners out were uncomfortable, at best ("...excuse me, waiter, could you take this silverware back; it has not been cleaned properly..."). And why did John Jr. and Penny visit so seldom? They both had families and were making good livings. He so missed playing with his three grandsons. And with all this flooding his mind, he confronted Martha.
"I have had it, that's enough! Our lives have been ruled by your continuing obsession to sanitize our lives. I will have no more of it! Can't you see what it has done to us, what we have become? I want to enjoy my last years, and I want to enjoy them with you. But until you look at yourself and realize that there is a problem, I just can't go on, that's all there is to it!" John slumped down in his easy chair and buried his face in his hands.
Martha took on a distant look and paced slowly around the room for a moment or two. Then she, too, sat down and, with misty green eyes, looked at her husband of so many years.
"John, I don't understand. I can't believe you have felt this way for so long! Do you remember when we were engaged and your mother invited me to visit with her and your father for a week? She thought we needed time to get to know each other so that we would become a close, loving family. Well, what I did that week was follow her from room to room, taking notes and learning the proper way to care for her only son. She systematically tutored me in cleaning and cooking and made it very clear that you had been spoiled in your life. If we were to have a good marriage, I must continue to make you happy.
"What was I to think? After all, I was a young girl. My mother had died when I was only twelve, and Dad and I could never discuss what was expected of a new bride. So I took in all she said, and when we were married, I began to take care of you as she instructed. It got so tedious at times, but you never complained about the way I did things, so I figured she was right. And loving you so deeply, I would do anything to make sure you were happy."
John sat staring at Martha. Oh, this wonderful woman, what had he put her through all these years. What had his doting mother done to this lovely young girl, turning her into nothing more than a maid and nanny for her precious little son. Why didn't he see it before? Of course, Martha reminded him so much of his mother; she even cooked those special green peas and potatoes that he loved, creamy and rich with butter.
He got up from the recliner and came over to the sofa where Martha was quietly weeping. "Oh Martha, my dear, I didn't know, I just never saw...oh, I'm so sorry!" And he held her tight and wept with her, the two clinging to each other.
After a time Martha regained her composure and spoke. "John, do you know what I'd like to do? Let's call John and Penny, and see if it would be all right to visit them. We could rent one of those mobile camper things and drive across the country, taking in the sights along the way. I have always wanted to do that; it's looked so fun on TV."
John was unable to take it all in. "But why did you never mention it before? I thought hotels were the last place you'd ever be seen, unless you could personally supervise the maids."
"Your mother told me you had gotten very ill while staying in a hotel once, so to make sure we were very careful about those places. That's why, when you would bring up traveling, I always thought you were mentioning it just for me, and I would never let you sacrifice your happiness or your health for me."
"Oh sweetheart," whispered John. "What you have suffered all these years; how can I ever make it up to you?"
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Johnny! I have loved every minute of every day I have spent with you. We have beautiful children and a lovely home. It makes no difference whether I spent all those years cleaning or not, I would have done whatever was necessary to make a good home for you. You are my saving grace, don't you know that? You have fulfilled my every need, you have been my constant companion, and you are my very best friend." And with that, she gave him a warm caress, got up and went to the phone, to start the wheels in motion to this new and exciting life they were about to embark upon, together.
John held up the end of the coffee table while Martha diligently vacuumed beneath it, attacking any minute` speck of dust brave enough to survive yesterday's cleaning. For thirty-five years he had watched and reluctantly participated in this routine. Martha opened her eyes each morning with a mission to obliterate all germs from her home. She moved ceremoniously from room to room wiping, spraying, nit-picking, until late morning when she could declare, "Now, that's done for another day; what would you like for lunch, dear?"
Early in their marriage, John had made the mistake of questioning her obsession. He had casually remarked that her habit of daily scouring the house might be construed by some to be a mental infraction on her part. Well, actually, he had told her the neighbors were beginning to think she was crazy as a loon for her morning antics. John had not yet learned how to be dishonestly tactful when criticizing one's spouse. Martha proceeded to show him, complete with magnifying glass, the disgusting dirt particles settled on tables, among carpet fibers, and on the bottom of his shoes.
Ah, she was a loving wife and a caring mother. She had never complained when he brought clients home or when John Jr. or Penny exclaimed at the last minute that they needed cookies or cupcakes for school the next day. No, Martha met each new challenge head-on and saw it through to a triumphant end.
As John thought back over the years, he had to chuckle at the pranks he and the children used to play on her. They would deliberately track in dirt or clutter a table so that Martha would have a juicy mess to plunge into. She always scolded them for their untidiness, but somehow John suspected that she probably had been on to them from the beginning.
Now the children were gone, moved out of state and seldom able to visit. Since John had retired and was home all day, there was little opportunity to have anyone over Martha could fuss over. All John had was this daily ritual, which was as tedious to him as anything he had ever faced. Oh, if he and Martha could begin some new activity, something which would give their lives a jump-start...
"John, dear, are you all right? You can put that table down now." John was broken from his reverie to see Martha staring at him, concern in her eyes.
"Martha, I've been thinking, wouldn't it be fun to join a swim club or aerobics class or something? I figured we could go in the early morning and get the blood pumping for the day. What do you think?"
"Oh, my goodness, no, I surely couldn't do anything like that! Why, when would I have the time to get this place tidied up. You know how messy it gets during the day."
And in that moment, it all flashed before him; the years he had denied this woman he loved was anything but a loving, devoted wife and mother; his inability to face the fact that Martha might have a true problem that he had just ignored. She would never stay in hotels ("...Oh no, John, we don't know what germs might have been brought in from other people..."); dinners out were uncomfortable, at best ("...excuse me, waiter, could you take this silverware back; it has not been cleaned properly..."). And why did John Jr. and Penny visit so seldom? They both had families and were making good livings. He so missed playing with his three grandsons. And with all this flooding his mind, he confronted Martha.
"I have had it, that's enough! Our lives have been ruled by your continuing obsession to sanitize our lives. I will have no more of it! Can't you see what it has done to us, what we have become? I want to enjoy my last years, and I want to enjoy them with you. But until you look at yourself and realize that there is a problem, I just can't go on, that's all there is to it!" John slumped down in his easy chair and buried his face in his hands.
Martha took on a distant look and paced slowly around the room for a moment or two. Then she, too, sat down and, with misty green eyes, looked at her husband of so many years.
"John, I don't understand. I can't believe you have felt this way for so long! Do you remember when we were engaged and your mother invited me to visit with her and your father for a week? She thought we needed time to get to know each other so that we would become a close, loving family. Well, what I did that week was follow her from room to room, taking notes and learning the proper way to care for her only son. She systematically tutored me in cleaning and cooking and made it very clear that you had been spoiled in your life. If we were to have a good marriage, I must continue to make you happy.
"What was I to think? After all, I was a young girl. My mother had died when I was only twelve, and Dad and I could never discuss what was expected of a new bride. So I took in all she said, and when we were married, I began to take care of you as she instructed. It got so tedious at times, but you never complained about the way I did things, so I figured she was right. And loving you so deeply, I would do anything to make sure you were happy."
John sat staring at Martha. Oh, this wonderful woman, what had he put her through all these years. What had his doting mother done to this lovely young girl, turning her into nothing more than a maid and nanny for her precious little son. Why didn't he see it before? Of course, Martha reminded him so much of his mother; she even cooked those special green peas and potatoes that he loved, creamy and rich with butter.
He got up from the recliner and came over to the sofa where Martha was quietly weeping. "Oh Martha, my dear, I didn't know, I just never saw...oh, I'm so sorry!" And he held her tight and wept with her, the two clinging to each other.
After a time Martha regained her composure and spoke. "John, do you know what I'd like to do? Let's call John and Penny, and see if it would be all right to visit them. We could rent one of those mobile camper things and drive across the country, taking in the sights along the way. I have always wanted to do that; it's looked so fun on TV."
John was unable to take it all in. "But why did you never mention it before? I thought hotels were the last place you'd ever be seen, unless you could personally supervise the maids."
"Your mother told me you had gotten very ill while staying in a hotel once, so to make sure we were very careful about those places. That's why, when you would bring up traveling, I always thought you were mentioning it just for me, and I would never let you sacrifice your happiness or your health for me."
"Oh sweetheart," whispered John. "What you have suffered all these years; how can I ever make it up to you?"
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Johnny! I have loved every minute of every day I have spent with you. We have beautiful children and a lovely home. It makes no difference whether I spent all those years cleaning or not, I would have done whatever was necessary to make a good home for you. You are my saving grace, don't you know that? You have fulfilled my every need, you have been my constant companion, and you are my very best friend." And with that, she gave him a warm caress, got up and went to the phone, to start the wheels in motion to this new and exciting life they were about to embark upon, together.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thanksgiving Day
Thanksgiving is the greatest holiday of the year, in my opinion. I always joke that it is because all you have to do to celebrate it is EAT. But actually, to set aside one day a year when you are truly thankful for what you have and who you have has to be an incredible gift!
For me, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade has always been the benchmark that ushered in the holiday season for me. My mom wouldn't let us sing Christmas songs until Santa came at the end of the parade. Still today, I watch the parade every Thanksgiving morning, and then Andy Williams' Sleighride is all cued up to play at the end of the parade.
I will admit that I have tuned in to KOSI a bit prematurely over the past few years, but that is ONLY because I tend to get a little of my Christmas shopping done before the Black Friday rush. And I absolutely CAN'T wrap presents without having White Christmas (the movie) playing in the backgound. (It's my most viewed Christmas movie, with While You Were Sleeping running a close second...you didn't think that was a Christmas move????? Better watch it again...)
I'm all about holiday traditions. (And check a future blog for my feelings about the word "Holiday".) There's succotash and homemade cranberry sauce, turkey and all the fixin's, but this year I put my foot down on marshmallow yams. Please don't abuse that poor tubor any longer! He's a proud, succulent vegetable. To be covered with cinnamon, brown sugar and marshmallows is demeaning!!! Bake or roast him, add a little salt, pepper and butter, and let him stand on his own flavor!!!
Happy Thanksgiving to you, and may this holiday season be among the best you ever remember!
For me, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade has always been the benchmark that ushered in the holiday season for me. My mom wouldn't let us sing Christmas songs until Santa came at the end of the parade. Still today, I watch the parade every Thanksgiving morning, and then Andy Williams' Sleighride is all cued up to play at the end of the parade.
I will admit that I have tuned in to KOSI a bit prematurely over the past few years, but that is ONLY because I tend to get a little of my Christmas shopping done before the Black Friday rush. And I absolutely CAN'T wrap presents without having White Christmas (the movie) playing in the backgound. (It's my most viewed Christmas movie, with While You Were Sleeping running a close second...you didn't think that was a Christmas move????? Better watch it again...)
I'm all about holiday traditions. (And check a future blog for my feelings about the word "Holiday".) There's succotash and homemade cranberry sauce, turkey and all the fixin's, but this year I put my foot down on marshmallow yams. Please don't abuse that poor tubor any longer! He's a proud, succulent vegetable. To be covered with cinnamon, brown sugar and marshmallows is demeaning!!! Bake or roast him, add a little salt, pepper and butter, and let him stand on his own flavor!!!
Happy Thanksgiving to you, and may this holiday season be among the best you ever remember!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Furlough
A Furlough - it has a number of meanings, but in this economy, it is being spoken of quite a bit as unpaid leave initiated by companies on their employees. It might be a day a week, or every other week, or in my case, Thanksgiving Week.
A furlough on Thanksgiving Week might seem to be an oxymoron. How can I be thankful that I'm losing a week's pay, especially just as the holiday season is approaching. But you know what? It is incredible that I have this whole week, with no working from home, just to enjoy my time and my family and to do what I choose. (Refer to "On Holiday" post in the archives.)
So I'm thankful I have this time, I'm thankful that in a week, I get to go back to work, and I'm very thankful that the company notified us of this several months ago, so we could prepare for the loss of pay. Things are tough all over, and we need to remain focused on what is still good in our lives, not just the bad things that happen.
A furlough on Thanksgiving Week might seem to be an oxymoron. How can I be thankful that I'm losing a week's pay, especially just as the holiday season is approaching. But you know what? It is incredible that I have this whole week, with no working from home, just to enjoy my time and my family and to do what I choose. (Refer to "On Holiday" post in the archives.)
So I'm thankful I have this time, I'm thankful that in a week, I get to go back to work, and I'm very thankful that the company notified us of this several months ago, so we could prepare for the loss of pay. Things are tough all over, and we need to remain focused on what is still good in our lives, not just the bad things that happen.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Another Snowy Morning
I'm wondering if I need to buy new boots. I've managed with the same boots for probably ten years, because although the country thinks we are in a deep freeze half the year, my boots have gotten very little use in the past. With this being the third snowstorm, though, and it only mid-November, it might be time to invest in a good pair of mucklucks! Or snowshoes! Or a bigger snowblower!
Still, it is pretty. Pretty is good. It is like aromatherapy for the eyes...
Sunday, November 8, 2009
End of a Week
The end of the week or the beginning? It is hard to tell! Here I am at 11:55 pm on a Sunday evening thinking back on the stressful week I just had that ended with a lovely Saturday and Sunday. But in a matter of hours, a new week will begin. I pray that all will go well and that everyone affected by what affects me will make it through with minimal collateral damage...
That said, I must say that it is SOOO cool to have two fine grown sons who come visit, play Guitar Hero with me and bring their girlfriends along to visit. What a great evening we had! Now, off to bed!
That said, I must say that it is SOOO cool to have two fine grown sons who come visit, play Guitar Hero with me and bring their girlfriends along to visit. What a great evening we had! Now, off to bed!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Learning New Things
I've been working on my prairie dog PowerPoint presentation for my English Comp class this morning. It wasn't being very cooperative, so I decided to change it up a little with a newer version of PowerPoint. It's looking good, but I wanted to imbed the sounds before the final submission. Linking vs imbedding - who knew that the sounds didn't automatically travel with the project...? I guess that's why I'm still in school. Always something more to know.
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