Me in an apron.
It's a funny thing getting older, I've discovered I like aprons. Primarily because I am a mess and they keep me from ruining my clothes, but also some of them are kind of cute, and there is something about putting one on, something ritual, routine, and yet costome-y about it, my domestic cape, that is warm and encouraging, while I am certainly no super mom, no super cook, still I find a charm in wearing one, which is quite the opposite of the effect I would have expected.

There is of course more going on in my life then wearing an arpon, but this is it for the time I have at the moment. I hope to be back Monday to discuss the writing conference. Happy almost Easter.

easily replaced?
I was amazed at how happy the cat was for this stand in. I actually had to chase him off of her twice during the building process; he just couldn't wait to nap on her lap. It is rather a shame though that I can only get a double to take up leisure activities in my place. If only she could replace me by doing stuff like fixing dinner and washing the dishes. The cat did not enjoy her for long though, Cheese insisted that this St. Patrick's day leprechaun prank was creepy, and had me disassemble her. (this year since he knew that I was the pranker, he critiqued my work)
I've been pretty busy lately with Cheese and troubles with school, primarily over his homework, lots of late nights, plenty of fights, and tension, but we are both working on a new attitude. And the school guidance counselor told me how important it is NOT to let such things become the focus of our relationship. So I am trying not to tuck my frustration in my pocket, but to just let it go, while still offering structure and support (and discipline). And it is going much better, perhaps because Cheese has been begging for a husky, and Bob has told him we will only consider it if he starts keeping up with his current responsibilities, aka school. Or because we have all changed our emotional approach to the situation.
Cheese and I have started going to look at puppies (though personally I am not keen on the idea), and we were going for long walks (walk and talks, 5 miles for our feet, and Cheese tells me what is on his mind, including chatting about girls, and making up stories). But we haven't done much of that lately as he has started hanging out with the 8 year old triplets from across the street (two boys and one girl) and that has been a bit of change in our day to day lives. We never know when they will come over, we might not see them for days, possibly a week will go by, or we might see them four days in a row. Their presence brings quite a different energy to our house, unlike anything we are used to. We enjoy them but we do get overwhelmed at times (setting boundaries and enforcing discipline are not my strengths). And now when they aren't here Cheese complains about how quiet the house is. (I have noticed that they distract him from asking for a puppy :))
I really haven't been working on my writing, it seems like I never have any time to...I have started exercising regularly again (which is good), I just need to figure out how to fit everything I need to into my days. I am very nervous about the writing conference this Friday and Saturday, but I am excited about it informing and reinvigorating my writing. Give me those spark plugs baby.

busy with the day to day, we had water intermittently over the weekend, then none Monday. We now have a new well pump in place, goodbye $2,651 dollars, hello water. (we still can't drink it, but we smell better, and so does the house.
Science fair (part 2)on Sat., orthodontist today, DMV tomorrow.
Still having quite the struggle getting Cheese to do (and hand-in) his homework.
I was getting all sorts of cherry (duh, Cheery) with the warmer days, but my mood has gotten a bit chillier with the snow and frigid weather. I'm also boo-hoo-ing a bit because I can't really afford to go to the Philadelphia flower show, but I have signed myself up for the totally terrifying writing conference that is happening later this month. I will be totally out of my comfort zone, but I think it will be good for my writing. I haven't made any hands on progress with it lately (2 months), but at least I have made some mental progress, as far as being able to see more clearly, and understand that some things need to be changed. I'm learning a bit about my editing style, or absorbing of info style, read how-to book, or hear some practical information regarding editing, throw fit, slam down book, walk away, say, "You don't know what you are talking about. You are an idiot." Have myself a nice little tantrum. Find self thinking about the info for days afterward, till finally most (but certainly not all) of it sinks in, and seems worthwhile and to make good sense. Then I start thinking about how I might apply it to my work. Still working on my follow through strategy as I tend to stall out, pages in hand, pen poised midair. Like Pooh Bear all this straining to think seems to get me nowhere except off to look for pots of honey, and wondering what Piglet and Christopher Robin might be up to, and worrying if there might be a woozel hiding under my bed. Oh never mind honey pots calling me, I see plenty of pots calling to me from my kitchen sink, all of them dirty. Well as my water supply has been restored, so too should cleanliness be. I just tried to do like Mrs. Weasley and have my magical mind make it happen from here, didn't work. Drat.

I found this on the back of my son's homework.
Family portrait by Cheese.




I was going through his papers and I am sorry to say I easily spotted my frizzy haired self. Cheese told me originally my head was much larger like a giant balloon but he couldn't focus for laughing so much, so he made it smaller.
Obviously I added color to create the series. I like how doing so seems to effect the mood of the family.

February 13th post that has been hanging around in drafts

I'm feeling more optimistic about editing. I hope this feeling will last through some actual editing.
(that was three days ago, since then.)
I got irritated with the people I know for not enjoying my writing, so I decided to do some simple tweaking of it, so I could show it to other people....I printed it out, and read several pages. I didn't enjoy it at all, no energy, no atmosphere. No wonder my readers aren't excited. This realization caused my mood to plummet. I had the woe is me-s. I am so awful at everything, there is nothing, NOTHING, I am good at. I have no graces, no talents, I stink at this, that, and the other thing. Bad wife, bad mother, no domestic skills, not attractive...yada yada yada (I mean why limit myself to a writing bash when I can bash myself about everything?)
That was the mood I was in Wednesday while I went on my walk. It was a beautiful day. It is better though to walk angry than sad, angry moves quickly, sad meanders and mopes, feeling sorry for itself, drifting back and forth between edge of road, and grass.
During my walk I saw a low stone fence, created without mortar, just round stones, and sharp ones, resting, wedged, interlocking like a puzzle. And suddenly I wanted to be that fence, to be something, anything, connected, solid, holding. A low break against wind and snow, standing year after year.
Reading my work I felt it as a visible struggling, that was what it manifested, the stress of a writer desperately trying to say something, not the concerns of the characters, not their story, but mine, I saw the ugly strain of my attempt, I read failing. Struggling, like I can not hear my own voice and am wildly screaming and screeching, trying desperately to hear, to be heard, but without confidence in my ability to make true sounds, nerves and stress mangle my thoughts into harsh broken noises.

Last night I didn't feel up to going to the writer's meeting at our local bookstore. I had never gone before, but thought I should because next month is a writer's conference, which is expensive, and really scary to me (alone in a prolonged social situation with many strangers in places unknown.) and if I intend to attend, I better start by dipping my toe in this bracing pool now. I decided to just go check it out from a distance, pretend to read a magazine or something.

I'm so glad I went. I was nervous and had to be invited over by the woman who gave the editing talk at the library on Monday. I thought it was just going to be random talk about the writing life, but there was a topic and a print out, and then reading aloud and critiques. Anyway..they were inviting, understanding, and energizing. Others who have traveled the road I am on. They were encouraging and eager to offer ideas and tips. Rather than a lone failure (I'm a loser baby..), I felt like I was part of something, connected to others also working on trying to become authors.

They talked about editing, ways of approaching it, ripping out sections (ripping out your heart), of the possibility of needing to set the draft aside and start writing all over at the beginning. Bracing words, a shiver at the thought of doing such work, tearing stuff down, starting over, yet also the bracing support of others holding me up making me feel strong enough to do it.
I didn't want to go, but now I know I needed to. I could join this group, be part of round and jagged stones, set together, creating a low lying fence, a break against wind and snow. Forming something, a group of people who write, we could stand together year after year.
In this simple act of going from a lone stone at the periphery of my yard, to a stone set with other stones, all jagged and smooth in different ways, but each striving to be more, a boundary of being could be built,


this post is almost two weeks old, and both long and incomplete, but I've decided to publish it so my thoughts can keep moving forward.

Nearby, even have an unfinished real post. But currently all tied up in knots over child and school.

read cat picture as SCREAMING, not yawning (though I am indeed tired.)

I've been quite busy lately with..It takes a village. As in it takes a village to get my son to do any of his school assignments. And this year there are all these big long term project thingies, history day, science fair. I am trying to readjust my mindset so that it stops being a continual source of stress. Because a stressed out me is no good for me, and no good for my son, or for my husband who I keep trying to get to take my place in the whole helping our son get from point A to point....um well actually maybe that should be from point D to point A.

A person who does manuscript editing for cash is speaking at my local library tonight. I went last year to hear her and I'm thinking she is just going to say the same things, but still I'm probably going to go. I need to get back on track with my writing and maybe this will help me to do so. I did make the tiniest bit of progress the night I was so sick I couldn't sleep at all. Just little things that I liked...a swan graveyard, a secret door leading to a hidden staircase, etc. little clues and riddles to decorate the story with. Little things certainly but for me emotionally helpful flourishes.