Changing the tune of my day

Hello. Life is interesting today. It's amazing what a difference music makes in my life. I came to work feeling somewhat anxious, but now I'm smiling and rocking away. Literally. Head bobbing, toe tapping, music turned up loud enough that it's probably leaking out from the headphones. I'm listening to the song that has the line "I get knocked down, but I get up again. Never going to keep me down." I love the beat and the words.

What a contrast. This morning, I eased my way out of the house, wherein only one of the cats, Sabbeth, was truly awake. I walked through the dark, silent, frigid world, and slipped into my car. Already running a bit late, I had to wait until the defrost had cleared a small circle of windshield in order to begin driving. I drove through the quiet darkness peering through that small hole. Eventually it grew to encompass the entire windshield, and I could breathe easier. The route I take to work is also a major crossing for every deer in the county, therefore clear vision is necessary.

By the time I got to work, the eeriness of the drive had gotten to me. I was cold to the bone, and felt unsettled, and unhappy. I drank a few cups of my usual tea (I'm the sole tea lady in an office of coffee guzzlers), and felt mildly better. My mood turned around during lunchtime. A few minutes of standing in the bright, though brisk, sunshine while waiting for the shuttle to the main building, and I started to warm up inside.

When I got back to my desk, put on my headphones & turned on the radio, the retro lunch was playing on the local radio station (one of only two stations we can get here at work...it's rock or country, no other choice). I listened as I continued to work, and the music worked on me. By the end of the retro music hour, I was as I am now...mood lifted, toe tapping, head bobbing. The only thing that could possibly spoil this would be one of my kids seeing me doing this. I would get the requisite eye roll and 'oh, mom' in that particluar tone only a teenager can get. However, since there aren't here, I'll continue to listen to music too loud, and let my spirit soar on the music.

In the middle of a strange weekend...

This is a strange feeling weekend. I had hopes of getting up early, and heading out with my writing tote, and holing up at my favorite Barnes & Noble, and spending the morning & early afternoon writing. (and a little reading too, hey, it is my addiction!) But no...the weather has ruled against that wondrous dream. It's snowing. Not just a few, gentle flakes fluttering to the ground, as children dance happily beneath. No. It's snowing. A torrential downpour of snow, encasing entire communities, not to mention my wee little, formerly black car, with an impassible mass of slippery, unforgiving mess.

OK, I'm exaggerating a wee bit, for now. But the snow is falling, visibility is bad, and the prediction is 4-8 inches. As my car has around 6 inches of clearance, this forgoes my previous plans.

So, instead, I'm home. Normally this would not be a sad affair, but this weekend, my daughter, Cat has her friend, Sam, spending the weekend. And what do these two 18 year olds enjoy doing the most? Playing video games. I don't know the names of the games (nor really want to know), but I can hear them. Lots of grunts, and karate yells, and slashing.... *sigh* This slowly drives me nuts. (ok, I know, short drive). And of course, they have to use the computer to get info on the game. And Sam brought her laptop, so she can play the game with her sometimes, unless she's playing a different one... with the resulting conflicting sounds.

I think I'll go hole up in the craft room, and try to do my writing there, or reading... or phone a friend...and contimplate the serious need for a personal MP3 player, before the next time!

Truly Random Musings

This truly is random musings, without any pre-thought or carefully written drafts. I was without a computer for weeks, while my son Bob 'reloaded' the computer. Me, being a non-techy, I don't totally understand the details of this... but it seems to take many trips to and from a computer store (where he works), and the total cost for this work is a batch of brownies and homemade cocoa mix. But I'm back.....

Speaking of Bob, he's amazing. Apparently, he's teaching himself some computer language and using it to build a website for himself full of Bob-isms. His twin brother, is busy working and going to college and building snowmen with engagement rings for one eye. And Cat finished her first semester of college, and got the best 'report card' of her life. I had to make good on my promise and take her to Sagano's, a Japanese steakhouse, where cooking dinner is part of the show. Fun...and tasty, and not cheap. (shudder my frugal heart)

As to my writing career, as of today I know that my two short short stories that I submitted to the Writers Digest Short Short Story Competition did not place. *sigh* Ah, well. Tomorrow, I'll figure out where to send them next. I think that the one titled "Not An Ordinary Girl" is especially good. On another note, I sent off another article for consideration to Guideposts (you send them off, and hope), this one about a true story about my mother. I've started on another one, this time about my parents when they were dating.

The most exciting thing I've done lately (go ahead and roll your eyes now, and get it over with. I'll wait. Okay? Good.) is to attend a crochet/knitting group. See, I pass this church on Main Street in town, and it took me five days of passing by to read the entire sign. Anyways, I found myself standing in front of a church door, feeling nervous about walking into a group of people where I knew no one. Then I realized, hey, Laura... they are church people, what's to fear? So I went in. It was great.. a little old lady taught me how to make a granny square, and I finally learned the names of some of the stitches I already knew how to do, but learned by rote, not name. The group makes blankets for homeless, snuggies for animal shelter (little blankies for kitties to sleep on), and hats for chemo patients. I can't wait to go again.

The other excitement, and last random musing, is that last Saturday I attended a Tea at my sister's house. Her idea.. and it was great! I live on tea...never ever drink coffee (ick). We had scones, little sandwiches, and cookies... wow. Next time I'll host it.

Ok...until next time... keep on swimming. And remember the 'special ingredient' in special ingredient soup.

Laura

Today the part of Laura will be played by a Mime.

Quiet. I recently experienced a lot of quiet. Not by choice. Nope. It was me vs. a door. The door won.

My daughter, Cat, and I were trying to hang a door onto my bedroom. We figured out which way was up. Cat carefully measured where each hinge should go, and we painstakingly screwed the hinges connecting the door & the doorframe. It wasn’t easy. My sonic screwdriver’s battery ran out of power (ok-It’s really a cordless screwdriver, but as a fan of Doctor Who…..) Using a manual Phillips head was exhausting. Finally, we remembered that my drill could be used as a screwdriver, and we got the hinges all attached. Took us an entire hour to do all this!

With a flourish, we closed the door. Bampf. It hung at an angle, wouldn’t close, and there was no clearance at the top. Cat was muttering at the door, and near tears. Me? In frustration, I let out a scream, directly at the door.

We both calmed down, and agreed to call Sue, a friend with super skills. However, for me, it was too late. Almost immediately, I could feel a roughness to my voice.

The next morning, I was reduced to whispers. Bad. Part of my day job involves occasionally using the phone. Couldn’t be done, with my ‘obscene phone call voice’! Spending two entire days trying not to talk was neither easy nor fun. To say that I talk a lot is an understatement.

The absolute worst part of this whole ordeal was when the inevitable question would come—“So, how did you lose your voice?” To which I had no choice but to reply, in whispers, “I yelled at this door…” !

My Writing Journey

I began blogging because of an urge to write – regardless of whether or not anyone reads it. I have a need to write.

Like any kid, I first wanted to be a nurse, a fireman, a ballerina or a princess, preferably all four at once. But from the very first day that I fell in love with reading, all I’ve ever truly wanted to be is a writer. That was back in third grade, when we were reading the Boxcar Children series. As I watched my line of stars grow on the reward’s poster, I finally realized that it was someone’s actual job to write these wonderful stories! Why couldn’t that be my job?

While the path of my life meandered as much as a cow in a clover field, I finally came to realize that ‘someday’ had to begin now. I gathered up the courage, and sent out three articles. A year or so later, I had my first published article, August 07 issue of Guideposts Magazine.

Since then, I’ve struggled to find my rhythm in writing. Thanks to such wondrous books as The Writer Mama and Time to Write, I began working within a writing schedule, with set goals.

My comfort zone is in writing ‘the personal essay’, as found within Guideposts. I am currently working on several. Recently, I stepped outside of my comfort zone, and started learning to write fiction. This is so exciting!

Last week, I mailed out a piece to the Writer’s Digest Short Short Story Competition; a piece I have great hopes for. I’ve another that I simply need to polish before sending out.

And I’ve this great idea for a book—in fact, I think I’ll go work on it now!

A Writer Mama?

Am I still a Writer Mama? Because Christina Katz’s book, Writer Mama, is one of my favorites, and I frequent her blog, www.thewritermama.com, I found myself asking this very question. Most of the writers who participate in her blog are mothers of small children. When I first found this insightful book, I was the mother of three teenagers, all still in High School. My children were older, but still I felt that I fit in. I was a mother of school-age children. I was a writer with one published article. So, with the others in this unique writer’s community, I participated, commented and did copious amounts of writing.

Now however, my life is different. My twin sons, Ben & Robert, have graduated, and moved out on their own. My daughter, Catherine, has also graduated. She is still living at home. (“Hey, I know how good I have it,” she says.) She is a college student, attending the local community college.

The question is, now that my children are technically adults, am I still considered a Writer Mama? Or am I a fraud, no longer ‘one’ with Tiffany, Heather, and Marnini and all the other creative souls on Christina’s blog? Do I have to shelve my copy of Writer Mama?

No! That’s what I have decided. I am still a mother. While my children no longer need my constant supervision, they still need my prayers, encouragement, and homemade chocolate chip cookies. I will never stop being their mother.

I am still a writer, even more so, it seems of late. I’m actually writing this blog post long hand, while sitting in a Tim Hortons just two buildings down from the local branch of my daughter’s community college. Every Monday night, after I drop Catherine off at her English Comp class, I spend the intervening 3 hours holed up here. I sip very hot tea, eat the occasional donut (pumpkin spice tonight) and write.

So, yes, I have decided that I am still amongst the ranks of these creative Goddesses. Hey, Christina, I am a Writer Mama!

New Beginnings

This week, I'm facing a new beginning. My daughter, my youngest child, Catherine, is heading off to college. For the first time in over a dozen years, I no longer have any kids in regular public school. No more yellow school buses, parental forms to sign, birthday cupcakes to bake, no school concerts.

Instead, I watch as she prepares for her first college class at the local community college. A new back pack with wheels, for crossing the campus, very expensive books, and of course, forms. However, this time, she's the one filling them out, signing them.

Strangely, I find that I have the same worries as before (I know, I know...I do worry too much!). Will she be able to find her classes? Does she have the right school supplies? Will she make friends? Oddly, this familiarity comforts me.

Whether I'm ready for it or not, this change is coming. This Wednesday, she heads off to her very first college class....an Art class, followed by a gym class. Then on to the academics. We are as prepared for this as we can be, or she is at least. All I can do is sit on the wayside, with fresh baked Snickerdoodles on hand, to listen as she tells about her first day, and try not to flash back to the similar scene many years ago. Then it was a little girl, bow in her dark curls, wearing a ruffled dress, regaling me about the adventures of kindergarten.

Funny thing is, back then she had a pink backpack too. Guess some things stay the same, despite the changes.