Category Archives: Wuss Out Wednesday

A Word to the Wuss

I should have seen it coming that if I had a Tired Tuesday, I would only be up to a Wuss-out Wednesday the next day. Well, sorry folks. I’m down. Down, down, down in the dumps.

I spent most of the day down in the dumps. I don’t mean to be tiresome, but I just can’t always be the cheerful Mohawk Valley Girl. Some people can write when they are down. I say power to them. All I could do on breaks at work was to work on puzzles in a puzzle book. That did not improve my mood to any marked degree, because I’ve done all the puzzles I like. All that is left is puzzles that I don’t like or are too hard for me or both.

Now I am being exceptionally tiresome. What a kvetch.

In my defense, after work I did come home and do a few useful things. I worked on dismantling my container garden. Astute readers (do I have any other kind?) may remember that on Monday I felt guilty for running and not working on that or on raking the lawn. My delightful husband Steven raked the lawn on Tuesday. I wanted to contribute.

After a short Facebook break, I typed into the upstairs computer what I have written so far on my articles to submit to Mohawk Valley Living magazine. Um, I did not write them today. I did not add to them either. After exhausting myself literarily (my computer is underlining that word, but my dictionary says it is correct) if not literally, I chopped vegetables and began making a salad for my lunch tomorrow. When it was almost time for Steven to be home, I put Tabby on the leash and walked out to meet him. I could probably have written my blog post on that walk. Oh well, missed a bet.

I perceive that I am over 300 words. Perhaps they are not good words, but they are words nonetheless. Ooh, that raises a question suitable for some half-baked philosophy on Lame Post Friday: Isn’t it the ARRANGEMENT of the words that is not good and the words themselves neutral? Followed by a listing of words that I say are good words. I’ll let the reader fill in the bad words for him or herself. I bet some of you already are.

I’ll Tell You Witch Scene

Yesterday I talked about how I will appear in a Shakespeare scene Oct. 16 as part of Third Thursday in Little Falls, NY. I haven’t really talked much about the scene itself (but I just realized that yesterday’s title, “Witch Scene?” would have been perfect for today; missed a bet). I thought I would use Wuss-out Wednesday to give a brief overview.

The scene is from the first Act I of Macbeth. I am the third witch.

The witches enter first and say, “Yeah, we’re bad-ass.” Macbeth and Banquo come in and say, “Whoa.” We tell Macbeth he’s going to be king and Banquo that his kids will be kings. Macbeth says, “Tell me more,” but we vanish (alas, no special effects; we just do a kind of a cape flourish). Then two rank and file soldiers show up and tell Macbeth that the king just gave him a promotion. Macbeth says to Banquo, “We’ll talk more later,” and it’s the end of the scene.

Only, you know, in Shakespearean language. We witches spend all our time onstage capering around and cackling, which is a lot of fun. I don’t have any big speeches, which is a little disappointing for me, being as I am a colossal ham, but I like the lines I have.

I am quite looking forward to our little performance. I’ll probably write a blog post about it.

Not Blankety-Blank Much

Some bloggers only post weekly or three times a week or whenever the spirit hits them. Sometimes I wish I was some bloggers. Other times I feel kind of proud of myself for posting something every day (except for the day the big tree got hit by lightning and the electricity went out till morning; then I was late). I must confess: today is one of the former kind of days.

At least it started that way. I must further confess: as soon as my fingers started typing, the fascination with the blog kicked in again and now I’m thinking, “What can I come up with today?” I’m a little afraid the answer will be, “Not blankety-blank much.” But one must carry on.

In my defense, it is Wuss-out Wednesday (ooh, here’s a Freudian typo: Wuss-pout. I fixed it, though). I know I do a lot of blog posts about not writing a better blog post. I feel guilty about it, but, you know, not guilty enough to stop.

The funny thing is, I worked hard on my blog post yesterday. I tried to write it at work but did not succeed. I typed in the paragraph I had written, then tried to compose a little more, got bogged down, persevered. Several times I thought, “Oh, I can’t do this properly today. I’ll save the draft and write a foolish post for today, then fix it tomorrow.” But I had a rehearsal to get to and not much confidence in my ability to be amusing in a foolish post.

I can hear the nay-sayers now, saying (in addition to “nay”), “About that… you’re not being particularly amusing today, now, are you?”

I reply that I do not think that is a very nice thing to say. Stick to a simple “Nay” if you must. Or practice the art of silence.

The nay-sayer pounces on this: “That’s it! The Art of Silence! That is what you should do! Get on that now!”

I think we all know that is not going to happen. However, in the interests of readers who prefer a more substantive blog post, I will endeavor NOT to have Non-Sequitur Thursday this week.

About Lame Post Friday, I make no promises.

Not Much of a Recipe

Today I offer a cooking post. Sort of. Well, regular readers know this is not a cooking blog and I’m nobody’s chef. Still, this is Wuss-out Wednesday and I didn’t quite wuss out on dinner. I’m writing a post about it.

The post really started last week when Steven made rice for dinner. It was brown rice. He put a can of mushrooms in it. There was some left over.

The next step came on Sunday. I wanted to offer food to the lovely people who helped us with our fence, so I put some chicken legs in the crock pot. I put butter, honey and mustard in it. This is from a recipe I got out of a book put out by a church group. The recipe is actually for chicken wings baked in the oven, but I thought it would be fine for legs in the crock pot. I was right. Again, we had leftovers.

It was Steven’s idea to combine the chicken with the rice. I luckily remembered it and decided to implement it before he got home today. The first thing I did was to put the leftover chicken in the microwave to melt the butter, which had solidified. I guess I should have seen that coming.

I put the rice and mushrooms in my cast iron frying pan after spraying the pan with no-stick stuff. When the chicken was once again in liquid, I pulled some of the meat off the bones and added that. I poured in some of the liquid as well. I still have chicken leftover. I probably won’t write another blog post when we eat that.

Before I started heating it up, I added frozen spinach. I love spinach. Steven likes it when it is part of a dish, not just by itself. So I add it whenever it seems appropriate.

It did not take long for everything to heat through. Steven declared it tasty. I hope my readers will declare the blog post OK.

My Interrupted Kiss

So there I was, on a break at work, writing on my novel. I’ve been having the darnedest time lately coming up with scenes to write. At last I just started something. As sometimes happens (and it’s GREAT when it does), I went on from there.

OF COURSE the Get Back to Work buzzer sounded just when it was starting to get good. Two characters were right in the middle of a kiss (no, it’s not a sex book; don’t get your hopes up) (you know who you are). I don’t write books about thinly disguised versions of myself and others, but I felt rather as if it was my lips that had been interrupted.

Naturally I went back to work, however ill-used I felt to be doing so. One must keep one’s job, after all (if anyone says, “Don’t quit your day job,” I’ll scream. I HATE that joke) (EEEEEEEE! I just knew somebody was going to). I suppose it’s just as well. I was not at all sure how I wanted that scene to progress.

On subsequent breaks I managed a few more sentences. Then a few more after work at the laundromat, where I am now, as I write this. As you may have guessed, the scene ceased to progress.

It raises the writerly question: if I had been able to continue instead of being interrupted the first time, would the scene have progressed differently? As I said, I was not sure how I wanted the scene to go, but if I had kept writing, maybe I would have figured it out. I guess we’ll never know.

Does it matter? Perhaps not. But I thought it might be something to write a blog post about on Wuss-out Wednesday.

Foggy Wednesday

I apologize for having a Wuss-out Wednesday after my rather silly post on Monday. Um, and Sunday. Oh, I’m not going back and looking at how many lame posts I’ve had recently; the fact is today I haven’t written anything yet and I don’t have much to write about.

I drove through a lovely thick fog on my way to work today and thought I would write about that. We’ve had a lot of fog recently. I like fog. It is usually thicker in Ilion (where I work) than it is in Herkimer (where I live). This morning as I went out to my vehicle, I saw that the fog was pretty thick in Herkimer. I thought, “Awesome! It’ll be really thick in Ilion.”

Steven and I got lost in the fog on Higby Road once, but that is a big hill out in the country. I felt it was doubtful that I would get lost on my eight-minute commute to work. I drove at a careful speed (slower, but not too slow), looking around. The irony was not lost on me that I was enjoying looking at what I was not able to see. I took extra care as I went out German Street by the cemetery. I’ve often seen deer in that area. I would not care to hit a deer.

It was not too hard to see even once I got to Ilion. Walking from my vehicle to my place of employment, I continued to enjoy looking around, where I usually see buildings but this morning could only see streetlights.

Then I was at work, the sun came up, and the fog was over. I thought, “Huh. That wasn’t such a much.” So I didn’t write a blog post about it. And now I just did.

Sufficiently wussy, I trust.

Writing About Something Else

It seems this blog is degenerating into a post about running, a post about not being able to write a post. Sometimes two or three posts about not being able to write a post, sometimes a post about walking my dog thrown in. Do I even have Mohawk Valley adventures any more?

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I write about them. Sometimes I feel unable to do so (have adventures or write about them). Sometimes I go for long periods of time without having blogworthy adventures. Then I write about something else.

Today, for the record, is Wuss-out Wednesday. I had, in fact, an authentic Mohawk Valley adventure this afternoon. My husband, dog and I went for a walk on the Herkimer County Community College Nature Trail. I definitely plan to write about that. What, right now? I’m tired! It’s Wuss-out Wednesday! What do you people want from me?

The operative thing to do, I think, is to become more organized, plan ahead what I am going to do and write about, perhaps schedule actual writing time. Stop flying by the seat of my pants (that’s an odd expression. How does one actually fly by the seat of one’s pants? Can somebody draw me a picture of that?).

Hmmm…. sounds like a good plan (the organization, not the seat of the pants thing), but can I do it? It is quite different from my usual way of doing things. Would it not, for example, entail an entire change of character? These sound like questions of half-baked philosophy, suitable for Lame Post Friday. I hope to find better things to write about between now and then.

No More Deleting!

This is dreadful. I keep typing in a sentence or two then deleting it. I have done this before and it is always distressing. In the meantime, the clock is ticking and I have other things I would like to be doing. Astute readers will by now have concluded that today is Wuss-out Wednesday.

I actually did write some stuff today. I wrote a good portion of a blog post about a Mohawk Valley adventure. I was not displeased with it, but I must look up a few things and write some more on it. I wrote a little more than a page on my novel. The progress on my novel was something of a coup, because I thought of a new plot development and started writing a scene to implement the addition.

Sometimes when you write something it just helps you write more. Other times you write and write and then you are done. You cannot write any more. When you try, for example, to write a blog post after that point, you type in a few sentences and immediately delete them.

And then you steel yourself and begin typing SOMETHING which you do not allow yourself to delete.

And this is the result. I shall try again on Thursday.

Weather or Not, Here I Write

I remember some advice from one of the many books I’ve read about writing: add weather. Alas, I do not remember the book or the author, except that it was one of those collections of essays on writing. I ponder the advice and I find it to be good. As it happens, weather is about the only thing I can write my blog post about tonight.

Oh, yeah, there is the DARE 5K, which I wrote some more about on a break at work today. There is a fairly cheesy sci-fi flick I wrote most of a post on some weeks ago. In the first place, I don’t feel like typing in that many words tonight. In the second place, I’m afraid if I just publish what I have so far, the posts will not be that good. At least, I hope they can be better and I do not feel capable of making them so right now.

As I sit in my living room typing, I hear the occasional rumble of distant thunder. The rain has tapered off to a mere trickle. Earlier it was torrential. Before that the sky was grey and threatening. I was hanging out in a nightgown, because I felt like wearing something loose and comfy. Steven was in sweats for the same reason.

We had originally hoped to go to a cruise-in at the Mohawk Antiques Mall, where we could purchase hot dogs and root beer floats for dinner. I thought it looked too threatening. Also I was tired and once I had the nightgown on, well… Steven cooked some hot dogs and pork-n-beans on our stove.

But I still had to think about lunch tomorrow. Steven had purchased some tossed salad ingredients for me. We have a number of tomatoes yummily ripening in our yard. I was toasting a bun for my second hot dog, thinking after I had eaten it I would get on to the salad-making portion of the evening.

And here is the kind of husband I have. Since I had remarked how threatening the sky looked and since sweats are less embarrassing than a nightgown in case the neighbors can see, Steven put down his unfinished dinner and went out and got my tomatoes.

I ate my second hot dog then got to work on the salad. That was when the heavens opened up and down came the deluge.

And now it is over. Hmmm…. I guess when you add weather it is nice to have something to add weather too. Weather alone, I fear, is not enough. On the other hand, this is Wuss-Out Wednesday and it is the best I can do.

How I Roll

One thing I remember from Junior High School science is the law of inertia: an object at rest tends to remain at rest, an object in motion tends to remain in motion. I will add: a blogger writing silly posts tends to continue writing silly posts. Thus, Wuss-out Wednesday follows Tired Tuesday.

In my defense, the cold lingers, I was late getting home from work, and the writing problems continue. On the other hand, the cold seems to be on the way out, my dear husband fixed dinner when I did get home, and the writing does progress, at least by dribs and drabs. After all, it’s Wuss-out Wednesday, not Whiny Wednesday (although I’m sure some feel I whine all the time. I can’t help other people’s definitions).

I have never mentioned in this space my other writing gig. I write articles for my new favorite magazine: Mohawk Valley Living. One reason I have not mentioned it is that I was meaning to write a whole nice post about the magazine. It’s really cool, with all kinds of articles and information about the area. So I wanted to write a really good post about it, not just a brief shout-out. I bring it up now because it is part of my current writing angst. The deadline for the September issue is looming, and I’m having trouble getting anything down.

Odd thing about that. I can’t write, I can’t write, I can’t write. Then I sit down and write. Sometimes it seems that is just how I roll. I don’t exactly mind it, although it is a little nerve-wracking waiting for the time when I sit down and write. One would think it is a matter of just getting my butt into the chair and, you know, writing. Sometimes I try it and I find out, not so much. Today was one of those times. I put my butt in the chair. I opened the notebook. I put the pen on the page. I wrote.

And it just wasn’t very good. I persevered. I wrote a paragraph, then another paragraph. I felt happy when it was time to go to work so I could stop writing down these bad paragraphs. While I worked, I thought about that article and an idea for another article. At the next break, I sat down and very easily wrote a good page on the other article. What’s that all about?

So now I must assess what I have written, look up a few things, write some more, edit, etc. It should be fine. In the meantime, this is the best I can do for today’s blog post. Perhaps after I finish those articles, I can work on that good blog post about Mohawk Valley Living.