Tag Archives: writing

An Apologetic Post

I guess I have some work to do to make it back to being a daily blogger.  Once again, as I have often done with my running, I begin again.  Perhaps that was a bad comparison, because I have not been running in, oh dear, I think it has been months.  Of course I am too lazy to pull up my Running Journal and look.  And by “pull up my Running Journal,” I mean lean off the couch, to the danger of the Chromebook balanced on my legs, and paw through the mess under my coffee table.  It is there somewhere. I need to update it on walks I have taken since (oh dear) June.

Me being lazy.

I threw in a picture to pep things up.  This is my legs’ approximate position, but I am wearing slippers with no socks.  It is early Friday morning, and I last posted Sunday evening.  For that I apologize.  As it happens, perhaps I should have swooned for real and not just metaphorically.  The week has not been terrible, but my state of  mind has been.  I quite frankly do not know what is wrong with me.  I suppose a number of others have wondered that for years (you know who you are).  However, I have made it to work every day and tried to keep a smile on my face and a song in my heart.  Unfortunately, the song was usually The Volga Boatman.

 

Bloom where you are planted!

I add a cheerful picture to counteract the whining.  This is a photo from a previous year, but I believe my Rose of Sharon is currently blooming.  I spared it a glance while doing yard work yesterday (see, I have accomplished a few things), but I was too absorbed in gathering fallen branches and sticks to pay much attention.  We had a storm earlier this week.  Not a tornado, as Rome, NY had.  My parents live in Rome but, thankfully, suffered no damage, by the way.

I see I have babbled on for over 300 words. I hope to get back to posting on a daily basis, and of course I hope you will stay tuned.

 

Lame As I Ever Was

Hello, blogosphere, I am back!  What, blogosphere isn’t a word yet? I hear it all the time.  Perhaps I have it misspelled.  In any case, I am back on the blog after losing a few days to technical difficulties and my usual malaise which makes it a major effort for me to do anything.  I finally got back on my Chromebook. Phew!  I know, I could have posted from my Tablet, as I used to do all the time, but that, too has become problematic.  When I finish the post, I can’t type in a headline at all, and when I try to add categories and tags, the screen jumps every time I hit a key.  For the last post, I got on my phone to add headline and tags.

Now I feel a little ashamed for not going through such a rigamarole again (but I KNOW rigamarole is a word!  It has been a word for years!).

Random picture to denote passage of time.

I found it in my Webster’s dictionary.  “Rigamarole” is another spelling of “rigmarole.”  I think the extra syllable adds to the expressiveness of the term.  I recently read in an English history book about the origin of the word.  Of course I cannot remember it now, but I know which book it was in, and I will look it up for use on a future blog post.

My bestie, Kim, is coming to visit today.  Regular readers know she moved away early this year, to the detriment of my Saturday adventuring.  I’m sure we will have a lot of fun today, although I am a little concerned at the forecast of high 80’s.

This has been me and many of my co-workers all week.

I had actually been looking for a Mohawk Valley adventure picture to share, but I found this one and couldn’t resist.

 

Late, Lame, at Least It’s a Post!

I guess I had a couple more blogger’s sick days in which I did not even have the wherewithal to post a few whiny words about how I couldn’t make a blog post.  Ooh, here’s a Freudian typo:  I first put “shiny words.”  I guess I want to feel that my talent as a writer always shines through.  It is my one talent, after all.  Or do I flatter myself?  Never mind, on with my Lame Post Friday post, made early-ish Saturday morning.

That magic elixir, coffee.

I am on my second cup of coffee.  I am enjoying it quite a bit.  I went without if for two days, substituting tea for my morning cuppa (I believe I mentioned it the last time I made a blog post).  I love tea, but coffee is what gets me going in the morning.  Not that I am actually going right now, but I am blogging, so we’ll call that a win, however lame this post may turn out to be (I am thinking very, but I am also my worst critic) (that earlier line about my writing talent notwithstanding).

Only a dream?

It took me a long time to find a second picture to liven up the post.  This is from 2017, a really good year for my container garden.  I was determined to have one this year, but, alas, not determined enough.  Perhaps I can get out and at least do a few things in the yard this morning.  Unfortunately, it is supposed to rain (my bunions and the weather forecast said so).  I think I even heard a few drops earlier.  I suppose I could do a certain amount in the rain, then take a very soapy shower, hoping not to track too much mud between the door and the bathroom.  It might be a good idea to eat breakfast first.

 

These plants don’t seem to have any problem growing.

I wanted to add one more picture.  Regular readers may remember that this was meant to serve as inspiration for the murder mystery I must finish.  That will be a good thing to work on if it pours rain later.  Such plans!  Such ambition!  Will I accomplish anything?  The uncertainty will add interest to my Saturday.

 

A Whiningly Late Tired Tuesday Post

I am taking Tuesday as a Blogger’s Sick Day.  I got home from work last night, managed to do a couple chores, then succumbed to a bad head.  I don’t know what else to call it.  It is more light-headedness than pain, and a neurologist once told me it was a form of migraine.  Oh dear, and here I am whining about it.  Anyways, I felt unable to do anything much so went to bed early.  This morning (Wednesday, early), I am feeling equally as bad with an upset stomach for good measure.  I am sipping tea instead of my usual coffee.  It is quite tasty and may settle my stomach (to add an un-whiny comment).

Pretend there is tea in the mug.

I like to add an illustration when possible.  I am not drinking out of that mug currently, but it is the first one I came to in my Media Library.  In fact, it is kind of what my stomach feels like now.  Maybe not that bad, luckily.  I certainly must go to work today and Friday.  If I do not, my employer will not pay me for July 4th. It is a good policy, really, or a lot of people who had not foresightedly asked for those days off might be tempted to call in.

And here’s an interesting grammar point.  My Chromebook does not like the word “foresightedly.”  I do not see why I cannot make an adverb by adding “-ly” to any handy adjective.  Some writers eschew adverbs and rail dementedly at their use in any and all situations (you see what I did there?).  I personally need all the help I can get and will avail myself  of any words I like, even if I have to make them up.

Look, at that, a whole paragraph about my psycho grammar, not whining about my stomach or head.  On that note, I thank you for tuning in, and sign off with hopes for a more productive Wednesday.

 

At Least I Have My Monsters

So I broke my streak of posting daily by missing both Saturday and Sunday.  I have a couple of Mohawk Valley adventures to blog about, but as often happens on a Monday, I am too tired to do so now.  I may also be too tired on Tired Tuesday.  I have not been sleeping well.  But just listen to me whine.  The fact is, I am disinclined to post even now but feel I must not miss another day.

Sometimes I get carried away, too.

I put in a picture before I got more bogged down in whining about how tired I am.  I figure I can mange a Monstrous Monday post, only hoping I can find pictures I have not shared too recently.  I think the above one qualifies.

Mine is certainly not this big.

Here is one I have shared many times, The Brain from Planet Arous.  It is my favorite picture to share when I am feeling particularly brain dead.

Ah, a cup of tea.

Perhaps I should emulate the Frankenstein monster in the picture and relax with a cup of tea.  I could make it herbal so as not to further disturb my sleep patterns.  Then again, it is a bit warm for hot tea.

I see I am over 200 words, which regular readers now I consider respectable.  As usual, I will try for a better blog post tomorrow, and I hope you will again tune in.

 

Not the Hole Story

Sooo… by making my Tuesday blog post on time, I broke my streak, because I did not post anything yesterday, Wednesday.  I can’t get too exercised over it, though, because by my rules for me, this will count as my Wuss-out Wednesday post, and my streak will only be broken if I fail to post anything for Thursday, whether I post it today or early Friday morning (ooh, yes, tomorrow is Friday) (with apologies to all those who work Saturday).

What could this be?

This may look like a random photo for Waste Not Want Not Wednesday, but it is much more than that, at least in my twisted mind.  It is a well outside the Herkimer County Historical Society.  They dug in this well for artifacts some years ago and found some interesting things.  Now, as you see it is overgrown.  But could it have future relevance and interest?  At least fictionally, it could!

I took this picture after walking to the Society to purchase some post cards (regular readers know I like to send post cards to people).  I thought it would inspire me.  You see, I began writing a murder mystery for the Historical Society centering around this very hole in the ground (ooh, I just thought of a good title for this post!).  Full disclosure:  I began to write it last year for our fall show but felt it was too complicated a plot for my brain at the time.  I wrote Lights, Camera, Murder! instead, which I think worked out pretty well.  More recently I came across the notes for the other and was surprised by how much I had written on it.  I said, “Heeyyyy!”  or some such expression.

Many accept the rule that writing about not writing is still writing.  I will add that writing about what one is going to write is also still writing.  Now I just have to write it.

(That last sentence would have made a good title too.)

 

About Blogging, About Writing

Yesterday I kind of snuck my late Monday post in under the radar (snuck isn’t a word, Chromebook?  what is it, sneaked? That sounds just as silly), making the post and not saying anything about when I made it.  Today is Wednesday and I am boldly making my Tired Tuesday post and telling you it is late.  For one thing, I am still too tired to write about other things.

That is an interesting thing about this blog.  When I started it, I wanted it to be about Something, not just me.  Well, it became a lot about me, and now it seems it has become a lot about itself.  Is that like a snake eating its own tail (another cliche but one not as often used)?  That is what fiction advisors say about people writing about their own experiences, just changing the names.  Sooner or later, they say, you run out of things to write about.  I quite frankly do not see where that is inevitable. You keep living, don’t you?  Incidentally, that is not my style when I write fiction:  I make almost everything up, characters, situations, events.

Well, the characters in my books sometimes drink wine.

I wanted to throw in a picture to pep things up but did not have one of me writing.  To continue:  a number of my friends have asked to be put into books.  I hesitate to do this, because what if they don’t like how they are portrayed?  “I’m not like that!”  “I would never say that!”  They would also like to be killed off, since I write murder mysteries.  I have thought of trying a horror novel, where lots of people get killed.  I could knock off all my friends and enemies at once.  Something to think about.

Full disclosure:  In my long life, I have only ever finished one novel.  I currently am not even working on one, but I am trying to get back into it.  These days I write my blog, my interactive murder mysteries, and articles for Mohawk Valley Living magazine.  That reminds me:  I have a magazine deadline coming up.  Yikes!

 

I Cut Myself a Little More Slack

Here I sit, trying to make my Slacker Saturday blog post early Sunday morning.  At least, it is not early for me, but as Sunday mornings go for other people…  Not that I know that much about other people, but I have heard.

I put off making this blog post while I had some coffee, scrolled Facebook, played Solitaire, then read another blogger’s weekly post.  Oh, and I re-read one of my posts from 2012 which I had been thinking about.  I have been writing this blog for a long time, haven’t I?  Or, as Truman Capote famously said, “That’s not writing, that’s typing.”  I fear that lately my blog has become me rambling on, not saying much of any substance, much less sharing Mohawk Valley adventures as I intended to do when I began the blog.

Like KO Grainger at the Herkimer Downtown Chowdown.

I sometimes mention one I am going to write about, then when I sit down with the Chromebook… not so much.  What, I ask once again, is my problem?  More to the point, what is the solution? I confess I do not know.  I am not having much luck with the Do It Anyways method.

Am I too chicken to write?

Yesterday, by the way, was in fact a Slacker Saturday.  I went running, as I mentioned in my late Lame Post Friday post.  I puttered around, doing a little bit of cleaning here and there.  My house, as I have also mentioned, is quite the disaster area.  I express great determination to get it clean one way or another, then wander around, feeling ridiculous for not knowing where to start.  Then I put some things away and hope I have made some progress. Yesterday I discovered the Columbo method of cleaning:  I cleaned for a set amount of time, then when time was up, I said to myself, “Oh, one more thing!”

I am obsessed with Columbo, you may have noticed.

Eventually I wrote a few postcards and walked them to the post office.  It had stopped raining by then.  Returning home, I made some popcorn and watched, you guessed it, a couple episodes of Columbo.  I crocheted while I watched (after I had eaten some popcorn and washed the butter off my hands) (I’m not a barbarian, after all), so I could feel a little productive.

Once again, I have rattled on for an appreciable amount of words (just over 400!).  I shall end with a random picture, so that my Saturday post can be Scattered as well as Slacker.

Will the curtain rise on a new act for the play of my life?

Too dark, but I feel a picture of a closed curtain is always evocative.  It is the Capitol Theatre in Rome, NY, a good place to visit for future Mohawk Valley adventures.

 

About Those Blog Posts…

So I put off making Wednesday’s post till Thursday morning, then Thursday was a Blogger’s Sick Day with all capital letters.  I spent the whole day in bed, unable to do anything but lie there and try not to toss and turn.  I tried to get up in the late afternoon, thinking I would never sleep at night.  I thought, I’ll eat something, I’ll call my Mom and Dad (which I try to do every day), I’ll make a blog post at least saying why I am not making a blog post.  I walked downstairs.  No food looked or sounded the least bit appetizing.  I walked back upstairs.

What a dull, boring, whiny paragraph.  It is just as well I did not attempt to make a blog post yesterday.  Quick, throw in a picture to pep things up.

Aren’t they pretty?

Here are some flowers I used to have on one side of the front porch.  They stopped coming up, but I do not rule out planting more.  Still, if I want to plant anything, I had better get moving on it or it will not happen this year either.  Just to continue whining, everything is so much effort these days.  Maybe I need to eat my Wheaties.  Too bad I hate Wheaties.

Doesn’t this picture look like it was taken by accident?

I still have these sneakers and wear them sometimes, although I have more recently acquired running shoes.  I had planned to go running Tuesday, then put it off till Wednesday, then till Thursday.  Let that be a lesson to me.  In my defense, I was dreadfully tired on Tuesday and busy on Wednesday (not that I got much done) (see previous paragraph about everything being too much effort).  And now I am back to whining.

I guess I’ll bill this as a Non-Sequitur Thursday post.  Full disclosure:  I am still feeling a bit woozy but think I can make it through the day at work.  Then we’ll see if I can manage a Lame Post Friday post.  As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

 

More Writing About Not Writing

It is well known that good habits are difficult to establish while one falls back into bad habits with ease and sometimes a sense of comfort.  Thus I continue late posts, making my Tired Tuesday post early Wednesday morning.  I have a very good Mohawk Valley adventure to write about, because I attended the Herkimer Downtown Chowdown with some friends on Monday.  However, I am letting that marinade in what is left of my brain.  A wise woman told me you can’t rush into these things (“these things” being any number of chores and tasks that arise) (by the way, the wise woman was my mother, the same wise woman who also said, “Oh well, what the hell”) (I know she was not the first so say it, but she may have been the first to say, “As a wise woman once said,” etc) (I stand by my story).

Where was I?

I guess it isn’t Tuesday any more.

This meme is now late, but is my favorite one to use in a Tired Tuesday post.  As you may have guessed, this will be another post where I rattle on for 200 words or so, hit Publish, and hope for the best.  I am so dreadfully tired all the time lately.  Perhaps I do not eat enough vegetables.

Me, questioning my path as a writer, or at least as a daily blogger.  

Of course this is not me.  It is Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys, a movie about writers, among other things.  He plays a blocked writer.  At least, not exactly blocked, because he has written over a thousand pages on his next book, but, well, it is complicated.  I have not written over a thousand pages of anything lately, and I have never written a thousand pages on one project.  That might be a good challenge for me:  write a thousand pages on something, anything.  They say anything that gets your pen moving is a good thing (as usual, no idea who “they” are).

No blockage of daisies.

I leave you with a picture of my prolific daisies.  They are symbolic of two things: spring, as in “hope springs eternal,” and sheer number.  May my writing flourish as my daisies!