Tag Archives: blogging

(Catchy Headline Here)

Oh dear, this is dreadful. I must leave soon to attend a charity event involving celebrity bartenders at happy hour (if I was really high speed, I would include a link about just what the event is) (and here we come to the ugly truth about me). I think it would be a good idea to make my blog post now and have done with it. I’ve done this sort of thing before with differing amounts of success (again, not high speed enough to include links).

On the brighter side, this is Non-Sequitur Thursday. All I really have to do is come up with a catchy headline and rattle on for a few paragraphs, which we all know I am well able to do. It’s the catchy headline part that is often the problem.

When I worked at a newspaper, roughly a hundred years ago, I used to see employment ads in some of the professional magazines my boss got. They were always looking for editors who could write headlines that sang. I knew mine were pretty tuneless, and I didn’t want to leave the North Country at that point anyways, so I never applied for any of them. But I always wondered about that, because, you know, most of the headlines I see are… not so singy.

At least we have something to look forward to: a kicky post about my experiences going to happy hour for a good cause. Maybe I can come up with a better headline for that one.

To Write Another Day

Goodness gracious, look at the time. I haven’t made my blog post yet, I haven’t even written it. Oh dear, whatever will I do? Sit down at the computer, I suppose, and see what I can come up with.

OK, I typed that much in and just sat here. Swell. You know, sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. My philosophy is, you have to be philosophical about it (I stole that expression from Donald Westlake) (one of my favorite writers).

I don’t suppose I can still use the excuse of being tired out from my fabulous weekend. Then again, why can’t I? I’m not a young woman. Oh heck, even when I was young I was not particularly resilient. I don’t think. Of course, I don’t remember things very well any more.

I think (stand by for a middle-aged musing) that the older we get, the more ready we are to cut ourselves a break. At least I am. And why not? Why should we not treat ourselves as kindly and gently as we would treat a friend? Or do you not treat your friends kindly and gently? If not, shame on you! Be nice to your friends!

As always, I had hoped not to write yet another post about Why I Can’t Write a Post. But I remind myself, writing about not writing is still writing. I’m sure I’ll live to write another day.

Where’s H.G. Wells When You Need Him?

Today is the day. No, it’s nothing exciting. It’s more along the lines of a looming deadline. Today is the day I said I would write and type in Friday’s and Saturday’s blog posts so I wouldn’t have to worry about it.

Isn’t this nicely time warpy? If I use this (and it seems that I am), you will be reading it at least a day AFTER today. Yesterday was the day. Oh dear, where’s H.G. Wells when you need him? (Say, that might be a good title.)

Actually, it kind of plays into my hands, because this is likely to be posted on Lame Post Friday. Although with all the time warp stuff going on, it may be better suited to Non-Sequitur Thursday. I didn’t have a Non-Sequitur Thursday this week. I don’t like to use all my slacker categories in the same week (although I suppose it happens).

Actually, I’m a little surprised I did manage two “real” posts this week. I’ve had a trip to the library, two traumatic appointments and the stress of not getting everything done for my fabulous weekend. Not to mention the stress of not having lost that last ten pounds (in fact, gaining five) before seeing my beautiful sisters (I was never the pretty one) and having nothing to wear, as per usual.

Full disclosure: the appointments were only traumatic to me because I am just so susceptible to being traumatized. I don’t expect any sympathy from anybody. And not for nuthin’ but, why does nobody ever believe me when I tell them I am a delicate flower? Oh well, by the time this gets published, I hope to be on to a better place (you knew I meant the weekend, right?).

Wine a Little?

Yes, it’s Wuss-out Wednesday. Ooh, wouldn’t that be terrible if that was my whole post? No such luck for those of you who like really, really short blog posts. Not to worry though, this one will not be long.

But it will be about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today.

In short, I am demoralized. I am less demoralized than I was earlier, but not yet moralized enough to write a decent post. Waaait a minute. Moralized is not the word I want here. What I mean is I do not have sufficient morale for the required literary effort. I believe one should avoid moralizing. If it means what I think it does (did anybody just flash on The Princess Bride: you keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means”?) (I may have that quote wrong; sorry, purists).

I am afraid if I go into specifics about why I feel so demoralized, I will be imparting more of my life than it is polite to share (no, it will NOT be TMI, you know I HATE that expression!). And, anyways, who wants to hear somebody whine about their woes? It is Wuss-Out Wednesday, not Whine About Your Woes Wednesday (although I’m sure that’s been done).

Here’s a Freudian slip to leave you with (one of my friend Rachel’s favorite sayings is “Your Freudian slip is showing): when I typed “Whine About Your Woes,” I first made a typo and put “Wine.” And that made me think of my upcoming wine tasting tour. My morale is improving already.

Cinderella Could Have Used This

One thing you can say about the Mohawk Valley: many of the people who live here are generous. I got more proof of that the other night, when Steven and I went to Frankfort Free Library.

I had actually been going to write a whole post about the library (you know how I love libraries), and I don’t rule out doing that at some point. Tonight, however, I want to give a shout-out to their Prom Attire Giveaway.

As Steven and I pulled into the parking lot at 123 S. Frankfort St., Frankfort, NY, we saw a lady pulling several fancy dresses out of her vehicle.

“Something is going on,” I said. With my theatre background, I immediately thought costumes for something.

Steven was more well-informed. “It must be for their prom dress giveaway.”

“Oh, I did hear something about that.” I think I saw a poster asking for donations.

After we were done with our library visit, I suggested we peek downstairs, where a they were busy sorting dresses and getting ready.

“We’re being nosy,” I told the lady in charge. Then I explained that I write a blog about the Mohawk Valley, which seems a better excuse than common or garden nosiness.

Response for the event has been great. Many beautiful dresses have been donated. Businesses have also donated gift certificates for hair, nails, jewelry and more. I remembered a couple of bridesmaids dresses I have that would be good prom attire. If only they were not buried in an unknown location in my attic, I could have added them to the collection.

The giveaway will be held from from 1 to 8 p.m. Friday, April 4, and 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. Saturday, April 5. The student going to the prom must be in attendance and must try the dress on. The dresses are to be given away at no cost.

I felt really good after visiting the library. What a blessing to get a fabulous dress for a special night for free! And what a good way for ladies to pass on lovely dresses they may never wear again. It’s a win/win situation! It almost makes me wish I was still at the age to go to a prom.

Almost.

Done Dithering?

I’m wondering if it would be such a bad thing if this blog turned into All Wine Tasting All the Time. At least for the rest of this week. I think I have set a precedent for such obsession. I’ve had All Boilermaker All The Time, All Harvey All The Time, All DARE 5K All The Time, and my personal favorite, All Dirty Work All The Time (because I like using the expression Dirty Work).

I will just interject here, for the benefit of those just tuning in, that this is in regards to a wine tasting trip to the Finger Lakes I am taking with some of my family this weekend. This led to some dithering on my part (perhaps you read my blog post about it).

So there I was, making lists. What to get done, what to buy at the store, what to pack. And I realized, I’m not stressed over this. I’m excited. It will be FUN!

Of course I don’t rule out feeling some stress before I’m done. After all, I have only four days to get everything done, with work, dog walking, blog writing and a few other appointments and commitments thrown in. And you know how it is when you make a list. You keep adding things because it seems like a good idea, so the list gets to be a little long. Once you have the list written, you feel like you’ve accomplished something, so you take a break. Then you don’t get everything done that’s on your list. Or am I the only one that does that?

Well, as the week progresses, I will strive to find other things to write about. In the meantime, I can cross “Write Monday’s Blog Post” off my list. Hope to see you Tuesday.

The Wrong Kind of Wealth

Longtime readers (if any) may remember posts about a twice-yearly wine tasting trip taken by members of my family. I think most of the posts have concerned my dithering decisions about said trip (What shall I wear? How will I get there? Should I go at all?) This spring’s trip is next weekend. Let the dithering begin.

My first dither, about whether or not to go, actually did not take much debate. The first wine trip originated under the heading “Life’s too short.” Life is still too short. I will add the sub-heading “People don’t last forever.” Thus, my decision is made to spend time with my family when I have the chance.

A more troubling dither (to me, anyways) is what shall I wear? I still haven’t taken off the five or so pounds I put on over the holidays. Oh don’t stand there tsk-tsking at me (you know who you are); nobody’s perfect. In my defense, this is my first year of being in my fifties. I daresay my metabolism has changed.

I’m not inclined to purchase new clothes for my current waistline. I shall look to my existing wardrobe for inspiration. If only I could know for certain what the weather will be like. Cold? Warm? Precipitation? Sunlight? Perhaps the operative thing to do would be to have two or three potential outfits in mind. Have I enough clothes in my wardrobe for such a thing? Am I clever enough to plan one outfit with sufficient layers to take all possibilities into account? Oh don’t bother to answer that last question; I know I’m not.

This is turning into a rather silly blog post, even for me. Oh, and that reminds me of another thing! I have to plan ahead for my blog posts. Both my potential transportation schemes have me leaving the house on Friday. I might not return till Sunday. For the least possible stress it would be a good idea if I typed in posts for Friday, Saturday and Sunday on Thursday night. Well, for Friday and Saturday at least. We all know I don’t sweat Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

I have other dithering questions. What to bring? When and how to fill my thermos with coffee? Do I have enough cash on hand? Answers often raise more questions.

To make matters worse, I’m thinking I will get no sympathy for my wealth of indecision. “Oh, quit blubbering and get on with it!” I will admit, as problems go, these are some pretty fun problems to have. And not for nuthin’ but, with all the kinds of wealth to be blessed with, I would get a wealth of indecision. Just saying.

Running with Judge Mathis

I had been thinking in a vague sort of way about running after work, so as to have something to write about. However, the unseasonably cold temperatures continue. I thought I might bundle up and run anyways, but the wind was so bitter, I became discouraged. However, I did manage a little something.

First I did my Twist Challenge for the day (see yesterday’s post). Steven nicely found “Wipe Out” on You Tube for me and I twisted while it played. Of course that was only two minutes and forty seconds. That won’t get me back into those size ten jeans. So I pulled out the mini-tramp and started running in place.

Previously when I have jogged on the mini-tramp, I put in a movie. I didn’t take the time to do that today. “Judge Mathis” was on TV (Steven likes judge shows). So I watched. None of these judge shows are what you might call classy, and Judge Mathis’ litigants do nothing to raise the bar. I like him, though. He’s tough but caring. Sometimes he lets the people yell at each other too much, but some producers seem to think audiences love that kind of thing (that might be a whole other blog post).

The first case made me laugh, because I think the two girls just wanted to be on TV. In fact, Judge Mathis accused them of it. They said no, but after the case one asked the other to be her bridesmaid. I have not spent much time in a courtroom, but I have to think that is unusual.

One thing I noticed running in place while watching TV. A minute lasts a long time. Even longer than that last minute before break at work. But I persevered. At one point, Steven played “Wipe Out” again, and I twisted on the mini-tramp. He didn’t turn the volume all the way down on the television, though, so we didn’t lose track of the case.

Eventually Judge Mathis was through meting out justice for the day, and I felt I had gotten some exercise I’m afraid it hardly makes for an exciting blog post. However, it is Wuss-out Wednesday. Happy Mid-Week, everyone.

Come On, Spring!

I begin my week with a Pedestrian Post (we all know the week begins Monday not Sunday, right?) rather than a Middle-aged Musings Monday. I did write something earlier, but it’s not ready yet. I want it to marinade in my brain before I edit further.

And can I just say, dammit, it’s the last week of March. Is 50 degrees too much to ask? Apparently so. Still, the sun was out, sporadically at least. I thought, hat, gloves, a scarf in case the wind picks up. I’d be fine.

Of course I forgot to put on the gloves and scarf. What can I say, it’s been a long day and I had an anxious schnoodle barking at me to hurry up. I pulled my sleeves down over my hands (my coats are all too big on me) and hoped for the best.

It wasn’t too bad on my hands. When the wind picked up, however, my face got to feeling quite uncomfortable. Oh well, these things happen. Dogs must be walked, after all, and I needed the exercise myself. At least there weren’t as many puddles or treacherous patches of ice. Enough to keep me on my toes but not enough to land me on my ass. Luckily.

We walked down Bellinger Street, sometimes on bare sidewalk, sometimes on muddy grass. We saw some workers from National NiMo working on something in a hole in the street. Tabby looked interested, but I didn’t let her go investigate. She probably thought the workers wanted to pet her.

Continuing down one street I saw three houses posted as uninhabitable. Oh dear. I suppose these things happen in every town. I looked around for something more cheerful to observe. I saw a free-standing porch swing in somebody’s yard. That made me think fondly of sitting outside, which I’m sure will be possible around here one day soon. March is too early for that even at more seasonable temperatures, I reminded myself.

I saw a beer can in the street and realized I had forgotten to bring a bag to put it in. No matter, I had two poop bags. One could just as easily be a can bag. I found two more cans as the walk continued. I laughed at myself for being pleased over fifteen cents. Then again, it didn’t cost me anything but a little effort to pick them up. I was taking the walk anyways. It will cost a little more effort and some gas to take the cans to the redemption center, but I can wait till I’ve collected a few more before I do that.

Soon I hope to be seeing crocuses when we take these walks. Then I can admire other people’s gardens, comparing them favorably or otherwise with mine. Ooh, and I can write blog posts about my gardening adventures. Come on, spring!

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.