Tag Archives: writing

Not a Pretty Post on Wrist to Forehead Sunday

It is Wrist to Forehead Sunday, indeed.  Although, I must admit, my quality of life is improving as I see these words appearing on my laptop screen:  black on white, readable, yes.

I am sitting on the concrete in front of the Martha Canfield Library.  I have been maneuvering myself around trying to get where the sun will not render my screen unreadable.  Oh, how I long for the comforts of home!  Just kidding.  This is not a bad place to be at all.  It is neither too warm nor too cold to be out of doors, and knowing that I am in such close proximity to many books does my heart good.  Yes, the doors are locked so that I do not have actual access to said books.  I just like knowing that they are there.

As you may have guessed this is another one of my Posts For The Sake of Making a Post posts, which is kind of the same thing as a Why I Can’t Make a Post post, but I just now came up with a different way of saying it.  In fact, I am not going to tell you why I can’t make a post today.  I’m not even going to apologize for not making a good post.  However, I will offer this consolation prize:  I might use my Tablet to take a few pictures of Vermont, so a post in the near future might be pretty.  No promises, but I’ll do my best.

I hope you are all having a lovely weekend.

 

Another Post in Haste

Or posthaste, if you like to use old fashioned words (and I do).  I don’t know if I will have time to make a real post later, so I’m going to write a few words now.  Who knows, if I have a chance to get on the internet later, I may post again.  It isn’t likely, though, knowing me (and I do).

So this will make three silly posts in a row (some would use other adjectives; feel free to embellish), after three “real” posts in a row.  Will this be a pattern?  Nah, I’ll just continue to go with the flow, as always.  Oh, this is simply dreadful.  I begin writing a post, because I want to get it done NOW, and I don’t have a damn thing to say.  How embarrassing!  I would even say mortifying!  Or humiliating!  And I don’t even have a thesaurus handy.

Speaking of thesaurus and words, does anybody know the word that means offended but is stronger?  You know, like “mortified” is stronger than “embarrassed.”  I was trying to think of it the other day and came up blank.  The next day I came up with “outraged,” but that wasn’t quite right either, because you can become outraged at a true injustice not only a perceived slight (incidentally, the thing I was more than offended about was not perceived, it was a slight).  I thought of “mortified,” too, but, as mentioned earlier, that is more embarrassed than offended.  I think I may have thought of another one as well, but that one escapes me.  Hey, I’ve only had one cup of coffee this morning.

Ooh, look at that; I’m over 250 words.  Goody! So what do you think: intro, foolish paragraph, paragraph that might (or might not, I admit) amuse.  I’ll call that a post.  Now I’ll hasten on to the other crap I have to get done.  Happy Saturday, everyone!

 

When in Distress, Vampires Often Help

Earlier today, a friend at work gave me some icy-hot (it was Equate brand) to rub on my knees.  It seemed to help.  I have spent most of the rest of the day wishing I had something similar to rub on my attitude.  It’s not even Bad Attituesday!

It is, in fact, one of those days when I disprove one of my own rules: that writing begets more writing.  I just finished and emailed out two articles for Mohawk Valley Living magazine.  Shouldn’t I be all raring to go and write my blog post now?  It turns out, not so much.  I was just futzing around Facebook, looking for pictures, because that always seems to be a good fallback post.  Of course nothing appeals.  Maybe I should look again.

When in doubt, look for monsters.  Here are a couple of pictures from Mark of the Vampire.  I found them on a page I Like called Murder, Madness and the Macabre, Our Favorite Nightmares.

Bela and friend.

I gotta get me a dress with sleeves like that.

I’ve seen Mark of the Vampire a couple of times.  I can’t believe I don’t have it on one of my horror collections.  Maybe my husband will buy it for me for my birthday (he usually reads this blog, teehee).

I’ll throw in another picture of Bela Lugosi to round things out (you know how I like to include three photos).  Here he is from Dracula in 1931.

“I bid you welcome.”

He was fine, yes.  I haven’t seen an old horror movie in a long time.  Perhaps that is the ice-hot for my attitude I seek.  At any rate, it couldn’t hurt.  We’ll call today a Non-Sequitur Thursday post (although the title I have in mind is more of a sequitur) and drive on. Thank you for tuning in, and I hope to see you all on Lame Post Friday.

 

 

Somewhat Skimpy Scattered Saturday

I had meant to re-institute Saturday Running Commentary, but I didn’t get right on it soon after my run.  Then I did a bunch of other stuff, so I think a Scattered Saturday post is in order.  As always, I reserve the right to write about any and all of the activities mentioned at greater length subsequently.

So, the first thing I did was, I drank coffee.  Just in the interests of accuracy.  However, I managed to get into running clothes and out the door shortly after 7 a.m.  I took a long run, an hour and fourteen minutes.  I will OWN that Boilermaker!  At least, I will run it and finish it on my feet.  We’ll call that a win.

Back home and showered (which I am sure everyone who encountered me today appreciated), I wrote post cards.  I also go on the computer but just couldn’t settle down to making my blog post.  I was feeling icky, tired, and not inclined to do anything.  We can’t have that!  I could walk to the post office, which I usually do when I write post cards.  Then I thought how I wanted to write about Moose River Coffee Shop in Ilion, NY, for Mohawk Valley Living magazine.  Writing in cafes is an excellent thing to do.  Also, when one has been having trouble writing, as I have, changing one’s surroundings can help.

Accordingly, I decided to get drive to Ilion, stopping first at Herkimer Post office.  It took some dithering to come to this decision (I’ve been in that sort of mood lately), but at last I had made my plan.  Then I could not find my notebook.  What the hell?!  Finally I said to myself, “Just pick up a notebook.  Any notebook, as long as there are blank pages in it.”  Avoiding the TV Journal and my Running Journal, I found a notebook.  Fine.

When I walked into the coffee shop, I was immediately greeted.  One of my favorite families was there, enjoying coffee and each other’s company.  They invited me to join them.  I got my coffee and did, mentioning that I had originally come in there to write.

“We’ll be quiet and let you write,” one of the daughters said.  I said I would rather visit.  We had a lovely visit, and I got a little writing done after they left.  Not a lot, I confess.  I started a letter to a friend.  However, since I described my surroundings in the letter, I felt it was a rehearsal for my magazine article.  Incidentally, that is REALLY good coffee at Moose River.

Next I headed to the Ilion Farmer’s Market at Clapsaddle Farm.  I purchased tomatoes and Gouda cheese, and chatted with folk artist Jim Parker and the lady that sells eggs (I don’t know her name; how remiss of me not to ask).  Then I went home and did laundry.

My other activities today included a trip to T & J’s Fruits and Vegetables, a wine tasting at Valley Wine and Liquors, and sitting on my deck with a friend.  Now I am trying to get my blog post done so I can relax myself some more and wait for my loving husband, Steven, to return from work.  I guess I’ve kind of skimped on my latter activities today, but you’ll have that on Scattered Saturday.  I hope to give proper shout-outs to the businesses mentioned, and a couple others I’ve patronized in recent days, in upcoming blog posts.  As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

 

The Blog’s Gone to Pot

I took some pictures of what I have so far for a container garden, hoping I could make up in pictures what I lack in words.  Seriously, my brain is dead and writing is just not happening for me.  Well, I’m not going to whine about it (although it is somewhat distressing) (no, no, NOT whine).  Instead, here are some pictures:

I guess you can’t see the flowers very well, but aren’t they pretty?

I had three pots with the design, but one broke last year.  Now that I look at this arrangement, it does not look as symmetrical as I had hoped.  Size-wise it’s good, but I don’t like the two decorated and one plain.  I’ll have to work on it.

Oh dear, you can see the icky garage and crappy window in the background.

I had never seen black Johnny Jump-ups, and I like the way they look with the orange marigolds.

An overhead shot, for a different view.

I liked the combination so much, I did two pots of it.

Ooh, I like what’s in the background of this one.

I tried to have “the thrill, the fill and the spill” in this one, but I think the “spill” looks a little unhealthy.  Perhaps they will pick up as time goes on.

Fresh pesto, you will be MINE!

Basil is the only herb I have so far, but as you see I have a nice amount.  Ooh, I LOVE fresh basil!

I would also like to get some dill and cilantro, as well as a few more pots of flowers.  Unfortunately, the malaise that has been causing my writing to atrophy seems to be infecting the rest of my life as well.  Then again, I see I have managed over 250 words on a blog post I thought I couldn’t write.  Maybe there’s hope for me after all.

 

If Only I Could Write a Blooming Blog Post

I ran today, thinking I would sneak in another running commentary.  It was a dull and boring run.  At least, for a while I enjoyed it quite a bit.  But I think it was only interesting to me as I was running it and it would not entertain anybody, least of all myself, to make a blog post about it.  Still, a blog post must be made (because I say it does, that’s why!). I am currently cooking, so I could do a cooking post. If only I were doing something more interesting than heating up leftovers.

If only I could bestir myself sufficiently to take the Tablet out to the yard.  At least one iris bloomed today.  I posted a picture of the buds the other day.  I think some readers would be pleased to be posted on current developments.  Just a moment first, to stir the pot on the stove and lower the heat under it.  And find the Tablet (as you may recall, I have a habit of misplacing it).

Maybe if I would have stood on my head…

I guess it’s not the best picture, because the stem is kind of bent over.  Believe me, I know how it feels!  Perhaps I should put a tomato cage over it or something. Steven arrived home while I was taking the picture, and I was able to assure him that I TOLD the young man who mows the lawn not to mow down the daisies, as Steven had asked him to do.  You see, this nice young man who lives across the street offered to mow our lawn.  In addition to being quite busy and (on my part, at least) a little lazy, we were happy to encourage this example of young entrepreneurship.  The first time he did it, he did not mow the daisies in our front yard, which have become a little extensive this year.  Steven told him to mow them this time.  At the last minute, I reprieved them, though, because they were just too pretty.  Here is a picture.

He loves me, he loves me not…

In front of the daisies is a peony bush that magically appeared after we had sufficiently discouraged the wild day lilies.  I insisted it had been planted by my stalker, a statement that has yet to be disproved.  The peonies have not bloomed yet, but look how many buds:

It started as one lone stalk and blossom, and there’s a lesson for all of us.

The main problem with the daisies is that they hide the lilies of the valley, which are also multiplying exponentially.   However, I’m finding those blooms don’t show very well even without anything in front of the greenery.  I tried to get a picture.

If you look really close, you can just see a few bells.

I’ve picked a few lilies of the valley and brought them inside.  I used a shot glass for a vase, because they are so small (Steven collects shot glasses, although we rarely do a shot of anything).  I love the smell.  I tired to get a picture, but I fear they were backlit and do not show.

It’s frogs on either side of the flowers. Steven collects those, too.

We also have some daisies inside.  Steven put them in water with blue food coloring, at my suggestion.  I think they’re pretty.

Oh, yeah, he loves me.

So for not a running post and not a cooking post, I think this makes a pretty good flower post.  We’ll call it a win for Non-Sequitur Thursday.

 

I Am a Writer. I Mean a Blogger.

It’s spearmint. I’d like to get some peppermint.

This is a picture I took yesterday with my Tablet and neglected to include in my blog post.  I realized I had left it out before I hit publish but I couldn’t figure out where to add it in.  I figured I could use it in a future blog post.  I thought it might be further in the future than the next day, but, well, it is Wuss-out Wednesday, and, once again, I got nothin’.

I really, really do got nothin’ today.  Plenty of nothin’ as the song goes.  Seriously, I am forcing my fingers to keep moving from key to key to put in the words you are reading now.  When I pause to think of the next sentence, it is difficult to get started again.  This has been happening to me all day.  This morning when I was driving to work, I stopped for a stop sign.  I did not stay stopped long enough to be late for work, but I had to remind myself to go.  I did manage to get work done while at work, but it was not easy.

What is this malaise?  Am I not taking enough vitamins?  Is it that last ten pounds I can’t seem to lose (oh, all right, 15 pounds, sheesh!)?  Not enough exercise?  Poor quality sleep?  Or am I just a big fat lazy bum who was not meant to be a blogger much less a writer?  SAY IT AIN’T SO!!!

Now there’s a point to ponder, within that welter of questions:  why did I say “a blogger much less a writer”?  Am I saying a blogger is not a real writer?  What makes a “real writer” anyways?  I don’t imagine I can answer these questions without resorting to truisms or cliches (another point to ponder:  what’s the difference between a truism and a cliche?).  Not on Wuss-out Wednesday, especially.

I think I’ll go make myself a cup of mint tea.

 

No Matter on Wrist to Forehead Sunday

I ran this morning, thinking I would go ahead and make two Running Commentary posts in a row.  Then I thought a common or garden Wrist to Forehead Sunday would be OK.  Now I am sitting here at the laptop, typing nonsense, and watching the clock creep closer to when my friend Kim comes over and my husband Steven gets off work and we head to the Little Falls Cheese Festival Fundraiser at the Overlook Mansion.  There will be wine and craft beer samples there.  If I wait and make my post later, I fear I will drink and type.  Of course I have done that before, but it is not ideal.

Then again, it may be better than what I have so far.  Perhaps I should compose two posts today, one now and one later, publish both and let the readers decide.  Ah, but what to write about NOW?

This morning’s run was pretty good.  I ran down to the canal trail, starting by Mohawk Valley Ambulance Corp, running for as long as I ran yesterday.  Yay me.  Back home, I made a macaroni salad for my lunches this week, also chopping vegetables for snacks.  Yay me again, although it might be better if I did not eat all kinds of other crap besides the vegetables.  However, I can’t worry about that now.

My real wrist to forehead situation today is what to wear to the fundraiser.  I have a color coordinated outfit on now but I’m not in love with it.  I think I look like an overweight middle-aged lady.  Oh wait, that’s what I am.  I suppose I will look like that no matter what.  Ah, and what’s in the middle of that last sentence?  “No matter.”  That is what I often say to myself, and it is what I say now.  I don’t like my outfit.  I don’t like this blog post.  No matter.  I’m going to have fun at the fundraiser.  I wonder if I can get anything else useful done before I go.

 

My Halloween Socks Are Clean

A few minutes ago, I thought to myself, “When in doubt, eat ice cream.” I thought it would be a good lead for a blog post, but it seemed ominously familiar.  Once I finished the ice cream, I looked and sure enough, I once made a blog post with exactly that title.  And pinged back on it two more times.  This will be three.

Full disclosure:  It was frozen yogurt and I realize that, even so, it is a poor way to work toward my weight-loss goals.  In my defense, allow me to explain, “Shut up.”  (That is a joke I proudly borrow from S.J. Perelman.)

I just took a break from blogging and looked for S.J. Perelman on Facebook, to make sure I spelled his name right.  I ended up reading part of a Paris Review interview with him.  Then I realized the Friends re-run that was on next was not one I wanted to see, so I got up and changed the channel to 20/20 on OWN.  As you may guess, I am not particularly focused today.  On the brighter side, I am in a much better mood than I was yesterday.

I did a very little writing earlier, on a letter to a friend.  As I always maintain, any writing counts.

Steven just now reminded me that I have laundry in the washer.  Oops.

The laundry is in the drier, except for the items I hang up to dry.  Now, having skipped around in true Non-Sequitur Thursday fashion, I am going to sign off.  I just remembered I was going to paint my toenails tonight.

 

No Boot Straps on Wuss-out Wednesday

I am having the damnedest time writing and have for the longest time.  I think to myself, “I love to write!”  But all I want to do is puzzles, primarily cryptograms with a few others thrown in.  I thought to myself today, this is a symptom of depression:  you like to do something, you know it will help you to do it, and you don’t do it. What the hell, me?

The thought came into my mind, “People who have not experienced it cannot understand the mind-numbing, paralyzing, utter inability…”  I don’t remember how the thought ended, but I immediately felt I could not put such a thought into a blog post.  Nobody would buy it, I thought.  They will tell me to stop being such a whiny baby, and maybe they are right.

I am going through a few things, but let’s face it: We all have problems and many people have far worse ones than mine.  As I have mentioned before, I suffer from depression.  I don’t like to write it or say it, because it sounds like I am asking for sympathy or making an excuse.  And it feels as if I have exposed something private and secret I would really, really rather not talk about.  Some people do not “believe in” depression.  They feel it is a made-up problem and I need to just stop whining and pull myself up by those boot straps they’re always talking about.

Only I rarely wear boots and the ones I have don’t have straps.

Then again, not whining is not a bad start.  I cannot pull myself up by my bootstraps (and what a hoary cliche that is, anyways), but there are things I can do to make myself feel better.  I will try to do some of them.  For example, starting on a better blog post for tomorrow.  We’ll call this one a Wuss-out Wednesday and drive on.