Peaceful Coexistence - Another Lesson From My Yard

Busy Airspace

Every day

in my garden 

I see evidence that we can live together

in peace

as long as we respect each other.

I recently planted the last of my annuals: 

beautiful yellow and orange Marigolds

red and white Geraniums

pink Begonias. 

I timed the planting in specific areas around the work of bees and butterflies. 

When bees were busily working among the Lavender, 

I planted around Cone Flowers and Black-eyed Susans.  

When they were ready

we'd switch places

working in concert 

without conflict.  

At the end of a few hours my flower bed looked beautiful 

and the important work of insects continued...

undisturbed.  

This Writer's Affliction (Ways to Avoid Writing) -Part Two

I love journals.  

In truth, I have a drawer and closet full of them:

large and small, hard and soft cover, spirals

cloth covered, bound journals

tiny 'little black book' spirals
artful plastic covered spirals

and the list goes on. 

Every time Borders had a clearance sale, I was there looking for journals.  

I had collected such an inventory; I began giving them away as gifts.

But I didn't have one that continued to inspire me once I brought it home.

I needed to FIND THE PERFECT WRITING JOURNAL.

Writing guru, Natalie Goldberg advocates 'writing practice' in a cheap spiral notebook with a fast writing pen because the writing is the most important thing.  

I considered this advice as I entered the book store but forgot it quickly as I gawked at leather journals with thin leather straps.  

Besides, I wanted to do serious writing, not just practice.  

I perused the shelves, turning, opening and smelling the leather bound journals.  

As I was checking out a particularly expensive one, the bound pages fell out of the leather cover.  

A problem! 

Then I saw a tall turning rack full of Moleskine notebooks (hadn't Hemingway used those?).

They too came in all shapes and sizes.
Plus, the insides didn't fall out

I settled on a large, black, thick, hardcover Moleskine planner.
Each ruled, page was dedicated to one day of the year.

Perfect!
And, it fit in my purse.

Finally I needed to FIND THE PERFECT WRITING PEN.

That was easy.  

I already had it...

a TUL, Stick Ballpoint Pen

(actually several in black, blue, purple, red and green).

At last, I sat in my 'Jeep' chair,

opened my new Moleskine planner/journal,

clicked the top off my TUL pen and realized I had a problem.

Here was an inspiring writing space, and I had nothing profound to say...only 'writing practice' ideas.

No way was I going to mess this journal up with random thoughts.

What I needed was a cheap spiral notebook!

This Writer's Affliction (Ways to Avoid Writing) -Part One

Yes, it actually exists.  

There are several symptoms of "writer's affliction".  

The first is a need to CREATE THE PERFECT WRITING SPACE.  

I walked through my house with eyes closed, arms outstretched,  in search of the vibe I'd feel when my spirit connected with that space.  

To my wonderment, it was my 'sunny in the morning' kitchen.  

So I immediately began planning to make my bedroom my writing space.  

Second is a need to FIND THE PERFECT WRITING FURNITURE.

Desk?  

Large chair with ottoman? 

Chaise lounge?  

Hm mm??

Ah, the chaise lounge.  

Comfortable with plenty of room to stretch my legs and rest the laptop on my lap.
The answer was yes!  

So I bought one, a nice camel color, microfiber job.  

The movers placed it by the window in my bedroom.  

As soon as they left, I plopped down with my laptop and began thinking about what to write.  

Ten minutes in, every part of me connected to that chaise heated up.  

I stood up, cooled off, then sat down to write.  

Five minutes later, the same thing.  

This time I turned on the overhead fan.  

Ten minutes later...heat again with the added attraction of sweat on my forehead!  

Little writing was getting done.  

This saga played itself out day after day until I finally realized, my chaise was igniting "hot flashes". 

I promptly relocated it to my sister's living room and I began my quest for the perfect writing desk.

One week later, I'm in my local furniture store.  

There was a sale (that's Mychelle for "gotta have it").  

Walking through the maze of perfectly planned office scenes, I felt like Goldilocks.  

Some desks were too big,  others too small, and then I found the perfect one.

It was actually made to match my bedroom furniture (surely a sign that this writer was on the right track).  

I gave the salesman my card and arranged delivery for THE desk, and a 'Jeep' office chair. 

One week later, I'm in my bedroom/writing space at my new desk, with the pullout laptop drawer.  

I'm reclined in my 'Jeep' office chair when I hear birds singing through the open windows.  

I feel the breeze blowing through, cooling my warm face, and realize (with no uncertainty) that I need to be outside... 

in nature...

away from claustrophobic rooms and electronic gadgets...

for inspiration.  

So I shut down my laptop, slide closed the pullout drawer, stand, push in my chair, get my purse and head to the nearest bookstore to buy a journal...(to be continued)

The Blessings of Mother

These are flowers from my mother's yard...nature's work of beauty.  

She is God's work of beauty.  

In her eighty-five years she has...

    been a loving wife,
    mother, and
    grandmother

    taught us right from
    wrong

    taken us to church 

taught us the importance of a "good name".

The Artist, the Musician, the Writer

Sisters:
one artist,
one musician,
one writer

The artist paints murals on bedroom walls.
The musician raises heavenly praises.
The writer thinks on paper.
They meet for coffee, a lot of girl talk and...well...maybe just a TEEnie, weenie bit of gossip.

They agree to walk the local trail for exercise.
The trail winds up being the sidewalk between stores at an outlet mall 50 miles north.
Great deals! 

Long ago, the child artist, musician and writer, huddle together in a quiet house.
Lights and TV off.
Thunder rolls.
"That's the devil bowling," says the artist.
The musician and writer believe her.