12-19
I'm slipping!! But do letters and shopping lists and algebra problems count as writing?

No. Why?

I didn't do them for me. This is the stuff that I do for myself. To stretch my mind or sharpen my skill, but not enough to cut me or anything till I know how to handle it.

I have run of the fingers today. I do want to just let the words flow and figure out what they mean later. At least with typing them I should be able to read them at least. But if "reading" means making sense of them, then perhaps the job is larger that I believed.

You should see the sky at night these past few nights. I don't know what it is about the atmosphere that has it crystal clear, but you can see stars even in areas where the lights generally make it tough. Those stars look hard and determined, like diamonds, tame enough to pluck and put in a setting.

And so where is that going? It hit a dead end write out of the gate. I wonder if I will later find a pattern to all this. A pattern strung over days or weeks or months. One that follows a pattern that is skewed and awkward because that's what our schedule is these days. My hubby has up till now steadfastly refused to work nights because of the disruption it brings to the family routine. This time is a little different because we not only need the money, but they also asked him to take a position of authority which will get him a few more hours--first on the job and first off. The thing is, I'm not sure which hours he'll be working on what days. I don't know when I'll need to have the house quiet so that he can sleep, when I'll need meals ready, when to expect him home. All of it is as jangled and messed up as all these strands of lights people are trying to straighten out. As a result my days are not productive--right out of the gate.

That may be a mood thing though. SAD is hitting this year, I think..... And there goes my timer. I'm ready to crash for today. Here's to more coherent thoughts tomorrow.

Make a list of colors. Write fast for ten minutes, don’t let your pen stop.

-----------------------------------
vermillon
red
scarlet
burgundy
mauve
blue
azure
purple
white
black
brown
sienna
tan
gold
silver
copper
pink
violet
indigo
sand
vanilla
yellow
yellow-green
chartreuse
sunshine
teal
turquoise
aqua
cream
sky blue
navy blue
royal blue
ermine
sable
sea green
gray
charcoal
drab
khaki
forest green
emerald green
ruby
sapphire
burnt orange
screaming orange
maroon
I'm out of colors! :( Can't think of those exotic ones!)
jungle green
celery
avocado
midnight blue
red-violet
violet-blue
periwinkle
jet
jade
taupe
brown-black
deep blue
metallic blue
flourescent
opal
autumn gold
cherry
plum
mustard yellow
Pepto-pink
lemon yellow
orange orange
raspberry red
lime
gunmetal gray
tortoise
tawny
tangerine orange

Ding ding!

~December 16, 2003

Freewrite for ten minutes without using the letter “r”.
---------------
The ends of my days keep bleeding into the wee minutes of the new one. I wanted to do the prompt on the 15th. I hate this one. The end. :)

Can't do much of this in ten minutes, let me tell you. It taxes the mind and those unallowed items have a way of sneaking in without being noticed. This is one of those times when backspacing is allowed because that's the only way I can avoid what I have to avoid.

Good, the teen is home. He went out to get a bite with his buds. I still have a difficult time accepting that he's got buds the size of football dudes. He's so thin, but he is so cute and he makes people laugh. Which is why I don't want him out too late. :)

I need to make a list of things to do so that when this day is done I'll know exactly what I failed to do again. I made a list when I got up today and lost it. I won't tell you how fast I lost it. But I really lost it.

Ding Ding. Time's up.

I don't wanna! Can you hear the whining?

My husband, of all people, bought a shirt at a thrift store for my oldest son. It was way too big and he wore it for a sleeping shirt for a long time. Now his younger brother has outgrown it, and my great niece (almost 3)--aptly--owns it. The shirt is emerald green, with a kid's rendition of a face embroidered on it in black. The face is complete with eyes, nose, ears, but in place of the mouth there is a red embroidered tongue sticking out just as far as it will go. And there are two hands, fingers sprawled in fives, with the thumbs at the ears and they're wiggling. And of course the caption is "Don't Wanna!"

Why their father would ever buy my children such a shirt I'll never know. You have to know him. If either of them ever did that to him for real--boy howdy!

Of course the most beloved of vacation T-shirts will shrink to the size of Barbie clothes on first wash, or will develop holes faster than Swiss cheese. But this shirt--not a chance. It has a magic life because it is every parent's nightmare. I know it will never die.

I've come to learn that the same nightmare exists in other realms too. My muse loves to wear that shirt. Honestly. I don't have a little girl, but in my mind I see one with pale skin, smokey black hair and big eyes--and an incredibly long, red tongue--who taunts me about my desire to create. Especially when there's something I know I really need to get done and I'm too distracted or distraught to concentrate properly. I don't know if the "don't wanna" comes from being neglected and she's pouting, or if in some perverse way, my muse just wants to add to my misery.

So here I am coaxing her. Every so often the tongue goes back in her mouth and she grins at me and lets me lose myself in a word or two that comes out precisely wonderful. And then my fingers stop their wiggle-typing and the cursor blinks. I look up and she's there, and there goes that tongue again--Don't Wanna. Can't make me! follows closely behind.

But as the parent--as the older, wiser, more experienced being--I know she really wants to. She loves to play with me. She hates it when I have to leave her for an extended time. Sometimes she's so hungry to work with me that she tugs at me even when I'm doing other things and I have to stop momentarily and give her some attention. So I know we will work together. With some coaxing, understanding and love we'll get through this.

Like we did tonight.

***

~December 14, 2003

What inspires you? How might you arrange to take more advantage of that inspiration so that you can write more in 2004? Brainstorm for 10 minutes.

Things that inspire me:

My Creator's personality
Calm
Sunsets
Slashes of light from streetlights smeared on wet pavement
Gentle rains
Thunderstorms
Solitude
Children playing
conversations
Quiet
People I admire
Quotes
office supplies
candles
music
new stuff
stretching
breathing cool air that smells like rain
crocus before they bloom
the double hibiscus blooms on the plant the boys bought me
my son's sense of humor
strength of character
courage
well written books
great people who are humble
warm sand to wiggle my toes in
lighthouses
ocean waves
new pens
new notebooks
dictionaries
homemade cards from my children that they made when they were little
Snoopy, especially when he's dancing or typing
word games
old photos
rivers
frogs croaking
owls in trees at 3 in the morning
long and nourishing talks with friends
new snow as the sun comes up
trees coated in ice that sparkles
redbuds in spring
hiking
finally saying what needs to be said....