riding vs writing

Do you remember recently I wrote about a lady telling me she writes too and how we got into a ridiculous conversation that made little sense? Finally I figured out she was talking riding (horses) and I was talking writing. Well, I guess "writing" is a word that my southerness doesn't allow me to say properly.

De'ja vu. The same thing happened to me a few days ago. I met a man, he was Chinese so accent-wise, we got off to a little rough start. Some how we ending up talking about hobbies and I told him I write. He was so impressed. English or Western?, he wanted to know.

I froze. I knew this was familiar and I knew there was an explanation. I stared at him for a few seconds hoping I'd remember the explanation. Of course I did, and only after a couple seconds' hesitation.

Next time I say it, I'll enunciate it as best I can. I enjoy wriTing. That should help me out.

Synapses Gone Bad

My girls are regular get-abouts this time of year. Rachael and Hannah are at outdoor school about 2 hours from home. They left Sunday and will return on Wednesday evening.

Deborah is in a little earthly heaven -- the only child. Treats, treats, treats. Fun, fun, fun.

My garage sale went okay. I made $200 which isn't so bad considering I didn't have a lot of stuff. Friday night it was getting embarrassing since I had so few things left. I never opened on Saturday, instead chose to make a drop at Goodwill. That was a huge relief.

Saturday night I met a girl and soon learned she writes too. I'm always excited to meet folk who share that passion. She was equally as excited. "What kind of writing do you do? Do you do western?"

I've never written anything western, (unless of course my story about Herbie's cows counts, which I'm sure it doesn't). I said dumbly, "you mean like cowboys and shoot-em-up-westerns?" to which she responded hesitantly, "well there are different kinds."

She started telling me about saddle, bridles, and stirrups. I got even more puzzled thinking she was talking code which made me wonder if she was asking if I wrote explicit sex stuff.

Gordon always points out that certain synapses in my brain don't fire and at that particular moment, something was definitely not firing. I began to deduce that she was taking some kind of writing course and there was new terminology that I had yet to be exposed to.

I didn't want to appear stupid (too late) and knew it was imperative that I shut down the conversation. Embarrassed, I said, "I don't really know what you're talking about, but I love to write."

Fortunately she was easy to manipulate toward a new subject. About 10 minutes later, that retarded synapse fired. While she was mid-sentence, I blurted, "Oh my gosh, I just figured it out. You were talking about RIDING and I was talking about WRITING."

Pretty slow on the draw there, eh?

A Brief Hello

I'm tired. Very tired. My house is falling down around me, or so it seems. I love a tidy house, but confess my house is anything but tidy today. I've tons of laundry, dishes, mopping, etc. However, tomorrow I don't work or have any field trips, so by tomorrow afternoon this house will be in ship-shape. At least that is the goal.

Today I received a phone call requesting my permission for one of my articles to go into an anthology. I got off the phone and went into my messy kitchen and told Gordon about it. He looked around at the disordered kitchen and said, "You'd never know an anthologist lives here."

About those field trips, yesterday was the last one for the school year. I am so glad to be off the hook for a few months. I'm ready for the summer break.

Net Nanny, Where were you?

I recently accepted a 4 month writing position for a magazine. Last night I was trying to acquaint myself with the magazine and was reading it on the web. I was horrified to read articles over and over on anal sex. This WAS NOT WHAT I THOUGHT I WAS GETTING INTO. I starting having a mild, or not so mild, panic attack and called Gordon at work to tell him how I had screwed up. He was more dumbfounded than me. "How in the world did you get involved with that?" And for the life of me I just didn't know. I had only done one assignment, (and it certainly wasn't on that subject) and now was planning in my head what my letter of resignation would say.

I thought about the line in "The Out of Towners" where Steve Martin said, "We just came here to worship, but this is the wroooooong denomination."

Well, as my exploration on the web continued, I learned that I had stumbled into a link on "Love and Relationships." It wasn't actually my magazine that I was in. As you might can imagine, I was relieved that I didn't have to write a letter saying, "this is the wroooooong denomination" after all.

Note: that net nanny may not be all it's cracked up to be. I learned stuff last night I'd never known before. Yucky.

Insignificant Stuff

I apologize dear reader who expects up to the moment updates. I don't know what is wrong with me, but I feel dry and used up. That's sort of a lie. I picked up 2 Francine Rivers books at the library and haven't finished the second one. Oh my goodness she's a good writer. Anyway Mrs Rivers has intentionally pulled me from my blog. She's pulled me from my kitchen too, yikes it's a mess.

Hannah's bratty friend returned and when she saw Hannah's room, she wrinkled her ugly little nose on her ugly little face and said, "Kind of weird. It doesn't match." I saw dots. Green, orange and glow-in-the-dark pink dots. I thought Misty's idea was good, but I heard it after the fact. Misty said I should say, "kiss my polka dot arse" to the little brat with no taste. But I was real mature through the whole thing.

My kids often tell me stories about how messy some of their friends houses are. One particular house, I've been in the foyer of several times, but never been invited in. But the kids carry on dramatically about how awful it is, and if the foyer is any indication of the rest of the house, it is pretty bad. Yesterday Gordon actually was invited into the living room for a cup of coffee. I was interested beyond propriety to know what their house was like on the inside. Gordon never struggles for words, really. But as I quizzed him, he said, it was chaotic. I pressed and he said slowly and pensively, "Take our house, put 4 times as much stuff in it, then spin it on its axis." I got the idea.

Francine Rivers really has me sidetracked from my regular duties. But there is more going on too. I really am stretched right now and have a number of projects on the go. I'm sorry for not updating as frequently as I like. Perhaps soon I'll tell about some of my projects.

Have a good evening and a great Wednesday.

I'm Back

I've missed blogging. My writer ego took a horrible beating several months ago and I've not gotten back on the proverbial horse since. I applied for a Communications Program and had to submit a portfolio of my writing. One would have thought I was applying to single handedly operate the space shuttle. I didn't realize how involved "getting accepted" would be. Besides 4 hours of testing, I submitted what I thought was some of my best work -- stuff that has actually been published and I got paid for. (It may have been a pittance, but I did get paid.) My heart sank when I read what the prof thought of my writing. "Potential, but definitely needs instruction!!!" "This story has humor potential but lack succinct delivery." He said that about my most hilarious story. I was so deflated. Anyway, I was accepted to the program, but just barely, and was very excited. Afterwards I didn't want to write. Have I mentioned my inferiority complex?

Since then, I had to drop the course for health reasons and at this juncture have no desire to resume it. I can't explain that except to say my feelers were badly hurt.

On August 28 I had my hysterias removed. Yes, I had a hysterectomy. Seems the ole uterus had just played out. I've recuperated well and quite like life without a uterus. It served me well and gave my 5 babies 9 months of cozy abode, but alas, the poor thing tuckered right out.

Gordon and I make our way to Arkansas in a few short days to see my delightful Stephanie marry the love of her life, John Mark. I can hardly wait to see Steph and Christopher and my other family members. Unfortunately, we can't take the kids with us. But I am looking forward to the time away with Gordon. We are going to have a blast.

Gordon's mother kindly agreed to come here and tend to our children and pets. We've added a Chihuahua to our menagerie. I sure love our little Frodo. Chihuahuas remind me of Stephanie. She won't be impressed with my blogging that detail. I think it's the shaking they do when they're nervous or excited. It's a curious thing, I admit.

Last week Frodo entered adolescence. I know because he mounted Lucy twice. Frodo weighs about 3 pounds and Lucy is about 70 pounds. Frodo is about 1/2 the size of Lucy's head. We about split our guts laughing at the sight. Frodo was putting everything he had into the experience and Lucy continued gnawing on a bone, seemingly unaware of the activity of Frodo. I'm quite sure it had funniest home video potential.

I'm going to try to get back into the swing of blogging. I have missed it. I quit my subscription to the Edmonton Journal last week and I'm going through withdrawals. I LOVE the paper and am like a retired old man with his paper. As soon as I get up in the morning, I retrieve my paper and get my coffee and read every detail, (except the sports and business section), enjoying my coffee at the same time. I have to do a fast several times a year from the paper just to prove I can live without it. Not only am I fasting from the paper, but now I don't get my daily fix of Sudoku either, because my daily Sudoku puzzle came in the paper. In shame, I admit my addictions and will now try to do better.

I wonder if anyone ever comes to this sight anymore. I guess I'll soon find out.