Category Archives: Wrist to Forehead Sunday

Ghost of a Post

Well, here I am late in the day on Wrist to Forehead Sunday and my wrist is truly on my forehead because I don’t have the ghost of a post or of an idea for a post. Ooh, the first part of that rhymed. If only I could write a poem about my dilemma, all would not be lost. I used to be pretty good at poetry. OK, I was never really good, but I wrote some silly rhyming stuff in high school that amused some people.

I haven’t a ghost
of idea or post
on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

I’ve blogged for three years
in spite of my fears
that this would happen one day.

I worked on my home
and drove into Rome
It’s been a very fun day.

If I was wittier
instead of prettier
I could joke and make it a pun day.

I jogged round the town
and didn’t fall down
So it was also a run day.

Now I will finish
‘fore my readers diminish
and try this again on Monday.

OK, that really wasn’t very good at all, and I’m sure many people who know what I look like are wondering just what I think I’m prettier than. Still, one must admit, this is something different. I think a bad post is better than no post at all. Do others agree? Discuss amongst yourselves.

I Must, I Positively Must Write My Blog Post

It’s another Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Actually the only reason my wrist is on my forehead is that I have not made my blog post yet. I must, I positively must make my blog post.

Unfortunately, I have a dreadful case of Writer’s Blank. I know I have done things I could write a blog post about. I’ve had a rather busy weekend so far. It’s not over yet, because I have Monday off, making a Preview of Coming Attractions perfectly eligible. But when I think I’ve done this, I’ve gone here, I’ve cooked that, I might do the other… I just can’t think of a thing to say about them.

This is not really a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post, because I DON’T KNOW why I can’t seem to write a post. And it’s all very well to say to myself, “Oh, just try.” THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING, DAMMIT! Pardon my French.

I’ve said it before and I will no doubt say it again: writing about not writing is still writing. The funny thing is, as soon as I say it, I stop writing. Do you suppose if I hadn’t started writing about not writing that I could have in fact kept writing?

Well, duh.

I’ll see what I can write about on Monday.

At Least I’m Over 200 Words

Other bloggers would just stop posting on Sunday at all. But what fun is that?

I have had a real Wrist to Forehead Sunday today. I got one thing accomplished: I went to the supermarket. Then I didn’t put the groceries away for at least an hour, because I forgot. Luckily it was not warm enough for the milk to spoil. So this unseasonably cold spring is not completely bad, I suppose. I finished reading the book my friend at work loaned me (which may form the subject of a future blog post) (Preview of Coming Attractions). I must say, a very well-written, absorbing book, but not exactly a feel-good book. I could have used a feel-good book.

One of the things that saved me is that I started to page through an older notebook, largely to ascertain if there was a number of blank pages I could utilize. I saw some stuff I wrote in 2010-2011, when I was in the depths of despair. Wow, I thought, I am in a much better place now than I was then.

If I was really self-absorbed, I would type in a couple of those pages for your edification. I gotta say, though, I like my own writing, but this was not particularly entertaining. So I’ll spare you.

I’ll spare you all of it. I’m over 200 words. I say Happy Sunday, carry on with whatever you were doing, and I hope to see you on Middle-aged Musings Monday.

Words Before Wine

I’m not having a particularly wrist-to-forehead Sunday, although I did have kind of a wrist-to-forehead run earlier. However, I am having a kind of a wrist-to-forehead moment right now. You see, I must pick Steven up from work for a Wine Tasting Event in about twenty minutes (it became 19 as I typed that). It would be a good idea to make my blog post now.

I CAN’T TAKE THAT KIND OF PRESSURE!!!

What a silly thing to say; of course I can. For one thing, the pressure is purely self-imposed. I can remove it at any time. For another thing, when it comes to writing, I thrive on pressure! I never wrote a paper in school one minute before I had to. Then I stayed up late, scribbling frantically. And the best essays I ever wrote in my life were on exams, writing against the clock, once with a screaming headache due to strep throat.

Ah, those were the days.

On reflection, I must admit that I have no idea if those essays were the best I had ever written or not, because I no longer have access to them and I certainly don’t remember what I wrote (although I did ace the exams in question). Regarding the paper, not having a basis for comparison, we can’t be sure the papers would not have been better with more time taken.

This is not the post I sat down to write. I had meant to write about how I did almost everything on my to-do list. Except write this blog post. Wait a minute, maybe it is exactly the post I sat down to write. Ah, deadlines.

At any rate, I am over 250 words. I’m going to go taste some wine.

Wrist to Relaxing

So, I had a very busy day yesterday, I was up later than I EVER stay any more, it’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday, what sort of a post do you think I’m going to do today?

A short one.

It is gloriously warm in the Mohawk Valley today. Tabby has been for two walks, one with just me, one with me and Steven. We sat out on our deck. We are relaxing.

Moreover, I have a whole weekend of Mohawk Valley adventures to write about. I am set for DAYS. So why I am I not writing about them right now? See the first paragraph. And the second. And the third. RELAXING!

Perhaps this is a poor excuse from a blog writer who indulges in Middle-aged Musings Monday, Tired on Tuesday, Wuss-out Wednesday, Non-Sequitur Thursday and Lame Post Friday (in my defense, not usually all in the same week). Oh yeah, and countless posts about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. Will I ever stop doing that?

I must admit, probably not. For today, I will content myself with a Preview of Coming Attractions: restaurant visits, Mohawk Valley Center for the Arts, an indoor garage sale, Mohawk Antiques Market, a truly awesome musical performance, good food, and plans for more Mohawk Valley activities.

And for me, the rest of a relaxing Sunday to enjoy. I hope you are enjoying yours as much.

Thank you for playing.

Unwelcoming Weather

I did mention this would be Wrist to Forehead Sunday. In fact, I don’t feel particularly wrist-to-foreheady (yes, computer, I know that’s not a word, but it should be). I feel happy to be home.

I traveled from the Mohawk Valley into Liverpool, NY and thence to the Finger Lakes (have you ever used the word “thence” in a sentence? I have not) (till now). It was a lovely if tiring weekend. I drove by myself, to and from Liverpool. This was a big deal. I rarely go anywhere by myself. But once in a while I try to be an independent, take charge kind of woman.

When I got home and Steven had returned home from work, we took our schnoodle, Tabby for a walk. She was so happy to have both her peeps home. It was a beautifully sunny day. Who could resist going for a walk on a Sunday in springtime?

Well, the Mohawk Valley weather was not exactly welcoming me or springtime back, it seems. That wind was mean! It was cold! I was happy I had the foresight to wear a windbreaker and my toque. Still, I felt a little ill-used. What a ridiculous difference between the way the day looked and the way the day felt.

Still, it was a nice walk and I was happy to be with Steven and Tabby. And I guess we’re all getting tired of hearing complaints about the weather (although few of us are going so far as to actually shut up about it) (that’s a whole other blog post: we’re rarely tired of complaining, just of hearing others do so). Well, I’ll stop complaining now, and go back to enjoying my Sunday. I hope you all are doing the same.

A 3-Sentence Post with a Long Introduction

Well, here it is, Wrist to Forehead Sunday, and my wrist is NOT on my forehead. I am actually having a very pleasant day. I am getting a few things done. I am in a cheerful mood. Everything is delightful.

However, this does not mean I can write a decent blog post.

I’m over the “I don’t feel like it hurdle.” Yesterday I COMPLETELY did NOT feel like writing a blog post. I thought about writing a blog post about not writing a blog post (always good for a couple hundred words), then remembered where my notes were on a wine tasting I had recently attended. Damned if I didn’t write a perfectly acceptable (to my standards) post.

And today?

I thought of writing a post about all the stuff I did today instead of writing a post (went to the grocery store, wrote some postcards, walked the dog, cleaned the house) (OK, so I only cleaned PART of my house, don’t judge). Didn’t sound too exciting. At least, it sounded OK when I was narrating in my head as I did these things (a habit I have had since earliest childhood) (ooh, that’s a whole other blog topic). Now, not so much.

What does anybody want of me, anyways?

I actually said I was going to wait till just before bed time and write a three sentence post. Something along the lines of: I don’t WANT to write a post today! And I don’t have to. Happy Sunday, everybody. Ooh, looks like I just did. And I still have a bit of my pleasant Sunday to enjoy.

Oh, Who Wants to Get Anything Done Anyways?

I need a new approach. I spend all week not getting a lot done and thinking, “I MUST do a lot on the weekend.” Then on the weekend, I don’t get anything done. I spend most of the day Sunday REALLY not wanting to get anything done, least of all a blog post. Eventually I manage to write a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post. Then I go on to Monday and start the whole cycle again.

Then again, it is nice to have a routine.

I did not spend Saturday having Mohawk Valley adventures, as I would have liked to have done. Not many adventures offered themselves to begin with, and I got a muscle spasm, also known as a crick in my neck. I had already managed a rather nice walk with Tabby, so I didn’t feel too guilty about my dog. I took some ibuprofen and made the best of things.

Local readers may be thinking, “BUT weren’t you supposed to register for the Boilermaker?” Indeed, registration was Saturday, and the 15K race filled up in something like three hours. I was not one of the 14,000 ambitious runners. Sorry to disappoint any regular readers (if anybody was paying attention in the first place). I just couldn’t count on my back allowing me to train properly. In my defense, I have run the Boilermaker three times and I will continue to run, perhaps participating in other local runs which will make perfectly acceptable blog posts.

I probably could have written an entire post apologizing for not registering for the Boilermaker, but that might have smacked of slimy self-justification and weaselly rationalization. Well, only people who are ACTUALLY RUNNING THE BOILERMAKER THIS YEAR have any right to shake their fingers or their heads at me (you can shake your groove thing at any time).

Well, here I am over 300 words. More than respectable for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I must confess, I enjoyed writing this one. I hope somebody has enjoyed reading it.

Hey, It’s a Nickel

For this week’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday, I will tell you about the nice walk I took with my schnoodle, Tabby, yesterday.

I was, of course, delighted that the temperature was warm enough to make a walk comfortable. I put on my flood boots to be prepared for all the puddles we were sure to find. Can I just interject here that that is one good thing to come out of my basement being flooded: these rubber boots. They are awesome for walking through puddles. I encourage anybody who likes walking in the springtime to provide themselves with a pair. Don’t wait till you have a basement full of soggy junk to clean out.

In addition to a couple of poo bags (I re-purpose produce bags, newspaper bags, etc.), I provided myself with a plastic grocery bag. Sometimes I use these for poo, although I prefer a smaller bag for my size hound. However, in this case, I had another purpose in mind. You see, money is tight for Mohawk Valley Girl these days, as I suppose it is for almost everybody. I can’t help noticing deposit bottles and cans just lying around sometimes and I think, “That’s a nickel.” I don’t always see them, but I thought I would be prepared.

Yesterday I got lucky a block and a half from home. When Tabby stopped to sniff, I saw a bottle sticking out of the snow. I had to unbury it, then turn it over to make sure it was deposit. It was. Tabby had finished sniffing by this time. I heard somebody laughing from across the street.

“Hey, it’s a nickel,” I told him.

“Oh, no, I was laughing at the dog standing there looking at you. I’d’ve picked it up myself.”

In fact, Tabby was politely waiting for me. We continued our walk. It was a pleasant walk. In addition to exercise for me and my dog, I found five cans. I had to dump Budweiser out of one, and another spilled a little Rolling Rock on my hand. I washed my hand in the snow, being sure to use soap when I got home. Two cans I had to dig out of a bush. Two cans I left lay, because they were crushed.

I had to laugh at myself, especially when I started to do the math. Do you know how many walks we’ll have to take before I have enough nickels to pay for, say, a pedicure? Luckily I love taking my dog for walks. Now if only the weather will cooperate.

An Hour Less Wrist

Oh I meant, I really truly meant to write a good post today. Maybe I had too good a time last night at the police department fundraiser (don’t tell my mother) (oh, rats, I think she reads this blog) (now I’m being silly, what a surprise).

Where was I? Ah yes, another Wrist to Forehead Sunday or, to leave the day of the week out of it, yet another post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. I just took a nice walk with my husband Steven and my schnoodle Tabby. I had meant to write about that. The only thing that stands out, however, is the cold wind that kept tormenting us and our relative lack of success at dodging puddles.

Let’s blame the clock change. What a dumb idea that is! “We get another hour of daylight!” somebody will say, in that bright, squeaky voice I hate. We do not! We get the exact same amount of daylight! Only the clock says a different time. But I must ask myself, why does it bother me so much? One hour less of sleep one day (and it wouldn’t have been that if I had gone to bed earlier) does not seem such a great thing. One often gets up an hour earlier for some good or stupid reason. That’s no reason to go all wrist-to-forehead on us.

I think it is just my usual Sunday malaise. I just don’t feel like doing anything useful on a Sunday and I probably never will. Perhaps I can get my act together to the extent of writing an extra post during the week so that on Sunday I only have to hit Publish. But let’s not get our hopes up.