I have a hose bin. It’s a quaint, pretty thing. It was a requested birthday gift, three years ago, something to help the Saint and I maintain our yard. Think of a beige plastic box with a feeder reel, a rod, a lid and a hand crank lever. You hook up the hose to the back, hook that up to your water spigot, and bam–you have a stored hose. Roll, unroll and off you go.
I used to think these watering hose bins were classy things. Instead of having hoses laying in driveways baking in the sun, or shaded underneath awnings like an idly waiting Boa Constrictor, hoses could be contained and camouflaged in garden beds. No more tripping, more more lugging, no more unsightliness. No longer do I entertain such foolish notions. This summer, as I stood shaded by my Japanese Elm tree, I went to war with the hose bin yet again. And I wondered exactly, just exactly, how many times a hose can get stuck and refuse to come out!
When the Saint came home from work, I merely pointed to the hose bin. By this time it was knocked over, dragged across the landscaping rocks and pinned between the front porch corner and an unlucky Holly bush. In my hands, I grasped about four feet of green rubber hose–a hard sought victory, a well earned prize.
My patience had disappeared.
Continue reading “Me, The Hose Bin & Writing: The Battle Continues”
As a human, it’s important to know what recharges our spirits. As writers, it’s imperative to our craft. Write too long on empty and gobbledygook splats out, pouring black ooze from our fingers and drips onto our feet. The gook sticks to our legs, trapping us suddenly in our chairs. Our brains soon crawl out afterwards and slink away to find a new oasis. Our noses follow quickly, searching for roses and rain showers of bygone, blissful days. If truly dire, legs may start a feverish tap dancing number underneath your desk, greatly upsetting the carefully arranged pencils and tawdry knickknacks. Away, they demand! Away, away, away!
We’re not meant to work forever; we’re meant to live in Oz. Truly.
Don’t argue with me. Take a munchkin and move over.
Continue reading “The Keys to Oz: Peaceful Retreats”
I’m working behind the scenes currently in securing an editor for my latest novel, M.B. She was recommended to me by an author in my area whom I’ve come to know in the past few months. On the outside I am the professional, helpful writer–listening and waiting patiently, hoping my novel portrays itself well. Inside I am a giddy seven year old, hyped up on cotton candy and screaming for more sugar, RIGHT NOW, MISTER!
I am calm. All is bright.
Crack on! Continue reading “Some Funny Thoughts & Ponderings…”
Are you sweating to the tunes of the typewriter, wondering exactly how your novel’s going to wrap up? Are you thinking you never properly learned your native language and have no business even being near a phone book? Is your dog staring at you, waiting for his walk, fifth potty break of the evening and is demanding his share of the num num installments?
Well, fellow writer, print and post these ten gems at your writing desk and party on with your semicolons and syntax editing. We’ll get there, yet!
Continue reading “Witticisms to Keep on Writing!”
This little cowgirl is starting to volunteer at a local Deaf resource center. I have a high goal (as we INTJs do) to become fluent in American Sign Language (ASL). I took a year of ASL classes in college and continued learning through online resources. Today, I took a giant step and started interacting with the local Deaf community. I volunteered to assist with an Easter celebration and watched Deaf and Hard of Hearing (HOH) children run happily amok. Some Children of Deaf Adults (CODAs) attended, along with hearing parents and siblings. I was in bliss as we dyed eggs, held egg relays, saw eggs crack, tossed eggs, decorated eggs and hunted for eggs. I definitely learned the sign for eggs. ASL is like magic to me–I’m transfixed by it always. It’s a beautiful language.
Then a deaf woman began signing to me. We had a brief conversation and I understood most of it, enough to get the jist. Joy and rapture— I was learning! I was contributing to society and children hunted eggs happily around me, safe and secure. Then the sweet woman asked me a question: “Would you interpret for me and ask a question about that baby?”
I think I may have peed a little.
Continue reading “Deaf Culture & Volunteering: An INTJ Story”
If you don’t know about Myers Briggs or INTJs, start here and here and also here. Do some more research on your own, then come back. Happy trails, but bring a sword. It is the internet after all–the wild, wild web.
Continue reading “INTJ Memes: Some Personal Favorites”
This past week I witnessed three great things:
- A child laughing in a foreign hospital thousands of miles away as my dog entertained him via video. His mother said this is helping him recover.
- A child crying and hugging his drug free mother who now has full custody of her children. I helped them get there, behind the scenes.
- I actually got to work early. Miracles do happen.
It has been a good week. Hallelujah.
Continue reading “Joyous & Crying Kids”