Workshop Days - Day 7

     I've set the timer. Fifteen minutes digit away on the side table. It's almost 9:30 PM and I'm tired. I think I've had a good day. Two men came into the cabinet shop that I manage and actually bought stuff.

     I forgot my laptop charger cord at home. When I got to the cabinet store this morning, I had just enough power left to do my basic surfing. So I turned the thing off and organized in the office across the hall.

     There's a ton of personal items stored over there, waiting for me to decide whether to donate or organize a yard sale. I did a google search "Is it worth the effort to have a yard sale?" The majority, around 75% said it wasn't worth the effort. My oldest son says "Have a yard sale."  This weighs heavy on my mind.

    I moved a lot of the items that are on their way out of my world, into a separate room. I can decide at a later time. Right now I just want this stuff organized. It's taking up too much of my time and thought. I'm actually blogging about this stuff.

    An art project that I'm working on, consisting of six pieces, is moving along slowly. I had a picture of one of the objects to share tonight but accidentally erased it. Oops! 

     The lovely ladies pictured above are dolls that I made about 5 years ago for my sisters. Their dresses are made from shirts that belonged to our Dad. I made and gave these dolls to my sisters the Christmas following our Dad's passing.

   The timer beeps and I bid you Good Night. 

Hot Stuff! - Day 6

     Yesterday, I was sitting in my living room trying to think of something to write. The room was quiet, the sun was at my back, and hot coffee on the coffee table. In a little while, my husband, Philip, came into the living room. He'd just finished eating breakfast. He asked if he could turn on the television. I didn't have a problem with that because he likes to watch the Sunday morning news shows and I was one paragraph away from being finished.

     He turned on the television and found that all his news shows had been preempted for local Super Bowl coverage. So he started watching that.

    He calls me a "tv Nazi" because he thinks I boss him around when he's watching tv; "turn it down, change the channel, you're not going to watch that, are you?" Stuff like that. So, Sunday morning, instead of telling him that the tv was blaring, I just got up and went to the kitchen.

    I was almost finished with my writing for the day. In about ten minutes Philip came into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets, while he was doing that huffing sound that my sister calls "air brakes." So I asked him "What are you looking for?"

     "Where's the food processor?" he asked.

     "It's in the cabinet over the coffee maker." I said. (eye shot - one foot from his head - second shelf- to the right - where he'd already looked).

     He drug out the food processor and set it down among the dirty, breakfast dishes. Then he drug out these dirty, wet, cream colored, horseradish roots from a bucket of water he had sitting in the floor.

     "Honey, aren't you going to clear some space to work?" I asked. As I moved my laptop away from the roots.

    "It's such a mess in here, blah, blah blah...."

     I closed my laptop, got up, and washed the dishes. I admit I was flinging a few spoons into the sink. I was just minutes from being finished and now I am stopping to do dishes - a few spoons got flung.

     Here's the thing. We'd invited our son and daughter in law over to watch the Super Bowl, so tearing the kitchen apart to process horseradish seemed impractical.

    I left the kitchen and was only gone for just a few minutes before Philip called me back in there. "I can't get this processor to work." I moved the handle around to the switch side, everything clicked into position and he was set to go.

    Five minutes later he called me in to ask me why the liquid was running all over the counter. He had filled the Cuisinart full of roots and water/vinegar and hit the "go" button. And it went - all over the counter!

     After cleaning everything up, twenty or thirty minutes passed. Philip came into the living room with tears streaming down his face. The horseradish fumes had started burning his eyes. I suggested he use some eye wash.

    "I'll be alright" he said as he wiped his eyes with a towel.

     The same thing happened about two more times and I suggested that it would be good if he had goggles to protect his eyes. He was a bit doubtful but I went to the garage and found his prescription goggles in a bucket in the wood shed.

    He washed the goggles and started wearing them. It worked. He was able to finish processing the pile of horseradish roots - at least as long as the food processor held up. He did quiz me quite sternly as to whether we had any more sandwich bags.

     "Yes, they're on top of the refrigerator." (One foot away from his head - 2 inches above eye level - in the bright blue box - to the left.)

    At the end of the day, we had a life time supply of processed horseradish and a food processor with a burnt out motor. The second Cuisinart that Philip has demolished in our married life together.

Big Money - day 5

     I slept late this morning and woke up with a foggy head. The minutes are ticking away and I am at a loss for something to write. The weather outside (always a good go to) matches my thinking; foggy and damp. There, how was that? 

      It is Super Bowl Sunday - yippee! - not a sports fan. Truthfully, I would rather be playing sports than watching sports. Though the idea of some of those huge football players heading my way for the tackle, would probably cause me to reconsider this stance. 

     This morning, on television, the local reporter was talking to local volunteers for the Super Bowl. "Have you seen any celebrities? "Oh, we saw so and so at the Super Bowl Village. Last night we saw so and so at the concert at __________ (fill in the blank)."  And "We're not allowed to ask for autographs." All this tires me. They obviously have nothing prepared for television this morning so they drag out some local folks, one who brought her poodle to have it's picture taken in front of the big Super Bowl numbers in front of the Memorial.  This all reminds me of a report they gave on Friday night. All week long, the local news people have been hyping the Super Bowl Village and all the free activities that are taking place around the city. Zip line, zip line, zip line! Friday night the newscasters were in a panic as they reported that the fire Marshall had closed down or was taking actions toward a concert where people were being crushed or almost crushed. People were actually shoving each other over a free concert. "Packed like sardines" is how some described it. And the image of a woman, middle aged, with a white sweater draped over her arm and a pouty frown on her face will probably remain with me for months to come.

Making spring plans - day 4

    I woke up early. It must have been around 6 AM. I have a lot on my mind. Now I am upstairs, the timer is set for 15 minutes and steaming coffee sits to the side to urge me on.

     It's been a mild winter. Usually in February, there's still snow on the ground from the beginning of January. This winter has just been wet and gray. Yet, with the mild temperatures feeling like early spring, I start to think about gardening.

     Though I have planted a few things in our landscape beds, it has been a couple of years since I grew an official flower garden. I think I have the bug to plant one this year. However, it is still early enough to change my mind.

   Another thing that has been occupying my mind is the web site, Pinterest. Months ago, I announced on Facebook that I am totally addicted to the Internet. I spoke of how I check my email, Facebook page, a couple of news sites, Boingboing, and 43folders many times throughout the day - a bad habit. Then I signed up for Pinterest. I have now gone from being a simple addict to shooting straight into the veins with one click of the mouse. Pinterest lets you tag interesting things you come across on the web and that article, picture, video is saved into what looks like a scrapbook.... a beautiful, thrilling, Internet scrapbook. It also shares other pinteresters scrapbooks. So if you are saving, for instance, garden ideas, you can also tap into garden ideas that thousands are saving. It is MIND BLOWING!  And I am just now getting familiar with the site. Who knows where this ends?

    Years ago, when we lived in Tennessee, we use to watch Dr. Who (the Tom Baker? era). Our whole family liked the series. Oh, you could tell that the monsters were actors in weird costumes (there's the 15 minute timer) but I think that made it more fun; not so serious. Anyway, there's a scene in one episode where Doctor Who lands in this cloud like place. A multitude of darkly dressed monks sit in tiny cubicles, their angel of death hoodies covering their faces as they work away at their computers. They are responsible for keeping time synced up. Well, it has been a while since I saw that show but that image of millions of monks at their stations, keeping time straightened out, comes to me sometimes when I'm on the Internet. Hooking up with Pinterest has moved me into the dark monks chair. All I need is the hoodie!

P.S. Now that I think of it, maybe the time keepers were just really old men without hoodies but definitely in monk robes. I like my first memory of them better - I'm sticking with the hoodies.

A Constant Blessing - Day 3

 I stopped by my daughter's house again last night after I got off from work. She was tired. I can understand it too. She has a newborn and an active three year old, so sleep is oftentimes elusive for her.

     As I was getting ready to leave, I asked if she would want me to bring the three year old home with me for the night. I have Friday's off so even if I got little sleep over night, it would be OK. She asked her daughter and we were good to go.

    The three year old immediately began packing her bag. After we got the essentials - tooth brush, Strawberry Shortcake toothpaste, underpants, pjs, movies, etc. She asked if we should bring her night light, which was a lamp sitting on her bedside table. "No" on the lamp. Kiddie sized toilet ring? "Ok, we'll bring that." Doll and several stuffed dogs to sleep with? "Ok". Then she started unplugging a DVD player to play her movies. "No, no, we have a player!"  Finally she grabbed a child sized broom from the hall closet - just in case there's cleaning to do. And of course she asked to take something with her of her mom's "to remember her by." My daughter hands her a clean pair of her (my daughter's) folded socks. We were finally ready.

    Then there comes the tearful goodbyes at the door and the long mournful walk from the house to the car. You'd of thought that I was taking her to the end of the world. Maybe to her, that's how it felt. Time without your mama is sort of like that.

   She was crying in the car on the way to my house. Real boohoos coming from the back seat. "Honey, would you rather stay home?"

   "No (long pause) I'm just a kid....a big kid ....  just a kid."

By the time we reached my house she was all calmed down and ready for adventure but not until she located her mom's folded socks and reminded her grandfather not to tease her.

And the fog set in.... Day 2

     As you may remember, I was talking yesterday about a cup of coffee (Fog Lifter) that my daughter made for me at 7PM  the night before.. That one cup of potent stuff, kept me up for 24 hours. I remember laying awake imagining that coffee bean tree or bush, deep in the mountains of South America .. or is it Africa? Those dark gnarly roots, draining energy from the earth that now surged through my veins.

     Yesterday, as I was driving home from work, the fog returned. It hit me as I came into Pendleton. Traffic everywhere and me driving through bleary vision. I yawned and couldn't stop yawning. I looked around in my car for something to distract me - to keep me awake. All I could find was a bag of Spring Mix salad fixings. I figured that eating would keep me awake. The problem was, my hands were dirty. I had noticed some trash laying in the street as I went to my car. I was carrying a bag of trash to toss too as the truck empties the dumpster between Wednesday night and Thursday morning.

     I couldn't stand the thought of touching the lettuce with dirty - trash hands. As I maneuvered through traffic I tore open the bag of salad and stuck my face into the mix. I bit a mouth full of salad and pulled it out of the bag. That one mouth full was dragging with it the second mouth full. In an instant I pictured the goats we use to own; their mouths full of hay, munching and thinking about the next bite.

     And there's the timer - 15 minutes.

This One's For JW. - Day 1

     A timer sits approximately 25 inches from me. On the screen, 15 minutes silently digits away as I write. I am beginning again. It is a recurring theme in my life but I will be the last to give up on me. I have the timer set for 15 minutes because I am starting with a new strategy. I have read and heard it said that to be a writer, a person must write. I have also heard the tip, "Set a timer."  So here we are.

     The other night, my friend JW, came by my house for a visit. She is such a fun person and a dear friend. She looked at me and asked, "Have you written on your blog lately?" I looked into her face. She meant business. And then she asked if I had written on my other blog about love and marriage. "No, I haven't done that either." For a minute I wanted to offer excuses but I stopped myself. The answer to both questions is "No."

     Anyway, beginning again. I have been listening to some great online radio shows about creativity, productivity, and getting things done. I think it's helping. I'll write about that help sometimes but most of the advice I've been getting comes from 43folders.com. Merlin Mann is the host. He's a bit of a nerd and talks too much but suddenly, the clouds will part and he'll say something earth shattering. Using a timer is one of the tips. Setting the timer for 15 minutes and writing something, anything during that time, is another one of the tips. Writing everyday for 30 days in order to establish a habit is another tip. I'm beginning with these three tips.

     I figure since today is February 1st, it's a great day to begin to establish a writing habit. My goal is to write something on this blog for the next 29 days. It might be just a sentence (The timer just went off). Or maybe I'll bliss out on a topic and it'll be a day long read.

     I don't actually want to be writing daily on my blog - I'd rather it be a couple of times a week. Or at least once weekly. And I also want to start writing some of my family stories - not necessarily for my blog - more for myself and my family. I want to develop the writing habit. So for a month, please humor me.

     Last night I was in the Meigers store. I was just wandering around looking at stuff. I don't get a chance to do that often either. Anyway, I noticed the books and magazines. I spotted a huge, 1 inch thick novel - The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver. She is one of my favorite writers. It's said that you can tell a lot about a book by reading the first paragraph. Here's the first 2 sentences of the first paragraph: "In the beginning were the howlers. They always commenced their bellowing in the first hours of dawn, just as the hem of the sky began to whiten." If those two sentences don't put you there, you're a moron. I can hear those howlers (for me it's coyotes) and I can see that hem of the sky - I've seen it so many mornings. She didn't just toss that off. She takes writing seriously.

     On my way to work a few mornings ago, I got to thinking about writing and people who work from the mind. Albert Einstein did not conduct experiments in a lab when he was developing E=mc-squared. His brain was his lab and his conclusions remain unchallenged. I heard that Mark Twain moved into his guest cottage for many months to write Huck Finn. He had thinking to do and look at the result - one of the greatest books ever written. And then there is (the second 15 minutes have just ticked away on the timer) JK Rowling the author of Harry Potter. She wrote a series about a young boy with magical powers and by the end of the series, she seemed personally drained. Brain work, which is writer's work, (and much of scientist's work) is heavy lifting.

     I have rambled on here. What I am saying is that I will be doing a daily entry in this blog and in my love and marriage blog. They will mostly be posted at night. This entry would have been done tonight but I'll probably be sleeping - at least I hope so. I went by to see my daughter last night. (And of course to see the little ones). So my daughter fixes dinner for me and asks me if I'd like a cup of coffee. I say sure and she mentions a few types she has and I chose "Fog Lifter." I drank that cup of coffee at 7pm last night and true to it's name, the fog was lifted and I haven't slept a wink. I lay awake all night, yearning for fog but it was all clear skies. Tonight, there must be fog. (The timer just went off again for another 15 minutes). See ya tomorrow.

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