So What are You Doing Today?

peanut butter fudge
package to mail
photos of yellow leaves and blue sky
laundry (again)
hem pants (more of them)
answer email
work a Sudoku - or 4
get vehicle emission test for my car
and write

I woke this morning with a clear plan to do some writing today.  Not just a vague idea that it would be nice to produce something, but the clear outline of what needed to be written.  So up until this point, I have managed to progress all the way from a blank page to a mostly blank page with one sentence. 

I have started the laundry, had my shower and made a pan of peanut butter fudge.  (Don't worry, I have no plans to actually eat it.)  I read through more of the information from the website of the foundation that's offering the grant I want.  I wandered back into the kitchen and turned on the oven cleaner cycle.  Oh, and I also scrubbed the cooking surface.

Just in case you're wondering how long I've been at this, I regularly awake at 5. 

I checked Annie Lamott to see how she does it ...

You look at the ceiling, and over at the clock, yawn, and stare at the paper again.  You begin rocking, just a little at first, and then like a huge autistic child.  Then with your fingers poised on the keyboard, you squint at an image that is forming in your mind -- a scene, locale, a character, whatever -- and you try to quiet your mind so you can hear what that landscape or character has to say above the other voices in your mind.  The other voices are banshees and drunken monkeys.  They are the voices of of anxiety, judgment, doom, guilt.  Also, severe hypochondria.  There is a vague pain at the base of your neck.  It crosses your mind that you have meningitis... 

A Room of My Own ...

KNOX:    Who are you?
BRUCE:   Oh... Bruce Wayne.
KNOX:    (extending a hand) Alexander Knox.
BRUCE:   (genuine) I read (present tense) 
         your work. I like it.
KNOX:    Great.  Give me a grant.

I'm applying for a grant.  Mary sent me the link, and I dithered around about it for several days, but I ordered copies of the tax returns necessary for the application and received them yesterday.  So it looks like I'm really doing this. 

Virginia Woolf said that in order to write a woman must have money and a room of her own.  I want to write.  I want to finish a novel and submit it for publication.  I want to tell my stories.  Not my personal history, but the stories that can only come from my mind and my heart.  I want to share characters and situations, choices and human experience.  But you know what?  Mostly I just want to tell a good story. 

I know it's not just women. You have to know that there is money to pay for necessities.  You have to have an opportunity to follow through on what Chris Baty calls "Butt in Chair Time".  I have the ideas.  I have the outlines.  I have the postcards ... LOL. 

What I don't have right now is time, or money to buy time.  Chris Baty has also been known to produce 10,000 words in a day on Saturdays to make up for lack of time during the week, but I don't seem able to do that.  I've come close a couple times, but my weekends are not free either.  My kids have certain expectations that I will feed them, and generally be their mom.  Reasonable expectations. 

SO what to do?  Well, if I were a little more disciplined, I could probably drag my sorry self out of bed at 4:00 and write every morning.  But my sorry self likes to sleep.  There's no point in pretending that I coudl do it at night, my brain is just fried by the time I'm done with the dinner dishes.  I refuse to neglect my Momi dutues.  And well, there's that need to eat that sends me off to work every day.  (Although, my pantry is pretty well stocked.    My friend Laura says that someone needs to go grocery shopping with me to "just say no" because no one needs that many varieties of tea, or jello.)

So okay, the food thing is mostly a metaphor. 

but still ...

Up to this point my choices have been limited.  Either I can work and pay my bills or I can write.  But to reach the end of the project, I can't seem to find a way to do both.  So I'm applying for this grant.  And I'm looking around.  If I'm applying for one grant I might as well apply for others. 

PS.  Anyone have experience with grants who could tell me whether it's acceptable to say "I'd like to use this money to take off six months and not be evicted from my home?"

Sometimes ...

My kids are just so ... different.  I don't know why I don't write as much about Michael as I do about Tucker.  Michael is just as funny as Tucker is, but for some reason it doesn't seem quite right to laugh over the things he says and does.  I laugh about Tucker because his funny comes from his unique perspective on the world.  I don't laugh about Michael for the same reason.

Weird, Mom, huh.

Michael is beginning to look ... young mannish.  He has that little fuzz on his lip.  Sometimes his voice cracks and he's started to have this thing happen with his eyebrows where they are sort of growing together.  He spends many minutes staring at himself in the bathroom mirror and muttering about "monobrow".  So I did what any loving Mom would do.  I took him to a salon and had it waxed. 

Apparently that's not the manly thing to do.  He talked with his dad about it.  And Tim sent him this little battery operated shaver.  Michael's happy. 

Today he was telling me that he finally got his id card for the school lunch program.  He showed me, it has a nice photo of him.  And he was very pleased because he was explaining that since he has a card now, I don't need to send any more lunch money.  He pays with the card.  I tried to explain to him that I have to send money for them to put on the card before he can use it.  But I'm still not quite sure he gets it.

Tucker gets it.  He jumped in and tried to help, "It's like the bank card, unless there's money in the account the card doesn't work at the store."  Michael just looked confused.  So I tried again, complete with diagrams that included phone wires, an ATM machine and a little stick figure Momi with her checkbook out. 

While I was patiently going through this with Michael, Tucker was in the bathroom, shaving his eyebrow.  He looks surprised. 

You know, at one time, that would probably have messed with my head.  I'd have thought that people would be saying, "What kind of Mom could allow this to happen?  Where WAS she when he was shaving his parts?"

But now?  Well, it IS Tuesday night and kids eat free at a half dozen places around town.  SO I took the boys out for dinner.  And had a drink.  I feel much much less concerned about whether my Parenting skills are being judged.   

"I'm a really good juggler, Mom.  As long as I don't have to do more than one ball."  Tucker ...

Through Different Eyes

I've written about my relationship with my mother and how much I wished it could be different.  How I felt that she judged me and found me wanting in a great many ways.  Well, sooner or later, maybe we all grow up. 

I was nervous about my mother reading my book.  More nervous than I was about sending it in to Shadow Poetry's contest to begin with.  More nervous than I was about handing (parts of) it over for critique at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival workshop.  I expected that my mom would see all the flaws, and would find in the content more reasons to be disappointed in her daughter. 

Boy was I wrong.

She read critically through every poem in the way that every poet wishes someone would read her work.  We both laughed when she confessed that in her mind poetry is supposed to rhyme.  When my words didn't line up the way she expected them to, she had to set that aside and read with a whole new set of eyes.  She had comments about the content, about how she felt when she read it, and about how much she identified with many of the feelings I expressed in the book. 

One poem in particular caused her to hesitate a little.  Because I wrote, "Momma taught me ..." and she knew that I wasn't talking about something that sounded familiar, so she put aside that language and read a little deeper and found a poem about people she knows in the town where I grew up and she still lives.  She saw all the rules and traditions I was describing and in the end, she said she could understand a little better why I had to break away.  (Even though she still wishes that I'd move back there.)

Does it get any better than this?

In every writing class and seminar I've ever attended we've talked about this issue of whether you say the diplomatic thing or whether you say the true thing.  There's a rather famous quote that usually gets brought up about how you can't really speak the truth as long as your parents are alive.  Up until now, I've understood that and felt like it applied to me.

But here's the rub.  I DID speak the truth in my poems.  And my mother read them, understood them and accepted them in a way that I've longed for her to understand and accept me.  When I sent her copy, I wrote an autograph and inscription in the front cover.  She and my sister received theirs at the same time.  The inscription to my sister was longer, and a bit well, poetic.  To my mom I simply wrote ... "thanks."

I've heard that there was some laughter about that with Mom pretending to have her feelings hurt over getting fewer words than Cheryl did.  But that inscription I gave her would be weakened if I tried to make it flowery.  And after the fact, I mean it even more.  Thank you, Mom.

Just wait til you see my NEXT book ...

My Mom on the Pikes Peak Cog Railway, August 2006

Biscuits and Gravy

Every morning when I ask the kids what they want for breakfast, Michael says "Biscuits and Gravy."  I mostly tell him there isn't time and wouldn't he be okay with a scrambled egg instead.  He settles.  But on the weekend, there's time.  Oh YES there is time. 

The thing I love the most about my new job may be the hours I'm off.  I'm home in the evening before 6 pm most nights.  And I don't have to work on weekends.  That doesn't prevent me bringing work home mind you.  But at least I'm here, lounging in my pajamas and making the biscuits and gravy for Michael.

Yesterday it rained all day, and then the rain turned to snow just after I got home.  Brrrrrrrrrr.  We closed up the windows and snuggled down in our blankets last night.  Just to prove that it was fabulous sleeping weather, neither of the boys are up yet.  And as anyone who's ever had us spend the night (or visited here) will know, it's rare for them to sleep in past six. 

Last night, we ate leftovers from earlier in the week, popped popcorn and watched Second Hand Lions. And that's as close to the perfect cold autumn with family evening as i can imagine.  Today, we're gonna have a slow start, followed by a meander, and then we'll go down to Mr Biggs Family Fun Center for a round of bowling. 

I love weekends.  I love hanging out with my guys.  This kind of time together is the gravy on my biscuit.    

Giving and taking ... orders

Some days I think that I want to be the one giving the orders, but most of the time the truth is that I'm much happier if someone just tells me what to do, lets me do it, and then pays me for it.  I like the idea of ordering others around, but I am not comfortable assuming responsibility for making order out of anything broader than my pantry or my shelf of poetry. 

One of the transition points we discussed in my class at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival this year was that of assuming a mantle of leadership.  It seems that many people reach a point in life where they realize, by golly, I know the best way to get this done and I can lead others to just do it. 

I have gone in the opposite direction.  At one time in my life, I was confident that I not only knew A way to get it done, but THE way to get it done.  Now, I'm much more aware that not only are there many ways, but some of them are in a dead tie for the best.  And moreover, it doesn't matter that there is no single right way. 

I was thinking about this because after a time of fear and wondering what on earth I thought I could possibly do to achieve anything more than survival, I'm finally at a place where I'm confident that I can and will thrive.  I'm blooming where I'm planted.  But I have no desire to tell anyone else how or where to bloom, I even lack confidence that I should be asked the question.

Oddly, the less interested I am in leading, the more it seems I'm asked to do just that.  I'm getting really good at giving people a tactful answer instead of the shocked stare, but really.  Shouldn't a leader have a clue where to go next?  Shouldn't a leader have a realistic idea of what is psosible and take on at least somewhat acheiveable tasks? 

I had an odd moment earlier this week.  My best friend mentioned that several states depend upon the snows of Colorado to irrigate their fields and fill their rivers.  I found myself nodding and mentally rolling up my sleeves as though I'd just been given an order to take care of making sure we had snow here.  o_0  And if there's anyone out there who isn't yet convinced that it would not be a good idea to follow me anywhere, maybe that will do the trick!

Lift Your Right Arm

Peter Cherches

      Lift your right arm, she said.
      I lifted my right arm.
      Lift your left arm, she said.
      I lifted my left arm. Both of my arms were up.
      Put down your right arm, she said.
      I put it down.
      Put down your left arm, she said.
      I did.
      Lift your right arm, she said.
      I obeyed.
      Put down your right arm.
      I did.
      Lift your left arm.
      I lifted it.
      Put down your left arm.
      I did.
      Silence. I stood there, both arms down, waiting for her next command. After a while I got impatient and said, what next.
      Now it's your turn to give the orders, she said.
      All right, I said. Tell me to lift my right arm.

I'm just tired ...

I think sometimes I must seem as though I'm some very moody, very mood swingy kind of person.  But I'm tired of things just flat out not going my way.  I'm tired of a job where I am constantly trying to figure out what is expected and being told contradictory things, I'm tired of being worried all the time about whether my kids are safe, and I'm tired of worrying about money. 

Do you know how tempting it is to just pack my little bags and run away?

I'm ready to do something different.  And as soon as I can figure out what that is, I'll let you know. 

On the other hand --- the books were mailed out yesterday.  Some of you who live close probably got your copy today, the rest of you should get them soon.  If you didn't order one from me, you can still get one by logging into the website of the publisher and ordering it directly from them.  That address is:

http://www.shadowpoetry.com/bookstore/hiddeninplainsight.html

Thank you for your encouragement and support. 

The Books Are Comin'

For all of you who ordered an autographed copy of my book, good news!  They are IN the mail.  Of course, I hope that you will enjoy the poetry, I also hope that you will let me know what you think. Some of you will recognize that edits were made based on your suggestions.  If you have ideas, comments or suggestions, please talk to me. 
Thank you for your support.

I am still toying with poetry, and the heady thrill of my name on the cover of this book has inspired be to seriously pursue a second volume. 

My financial literacy book is being reviewed now by the Chief Financial Officer of a local credit union.  So far she's been nothing but complimentary even while she offers suggestions for places that the content can be tightened up a little. 

I spent several hours the other day working out more of the outline for the novel based on the Postcards Project. 

I have a lunch meeting today with another author and we are planning to brainstorm about the coming Nano Insanity. 

And BTW! Nano sign up officially begins the first of October.  If you would like to do it, and especially if you are planning to do it and you would like to be part of my email circle, please let me know!  I try not to flood your in-box, but I will send you encouragement as we go through the process.  And its nice to be a part of a group so that if you have a question, you can ask it and get that support of other people who are going through the same thing on just what ARE people in Uzbekistan eating for lunch these days ...

I don't remember a lot of questions being asked of the group last year.  But the potential is there.  So I'd like for this year's participants to please introduce yourself with a paragraph or two about who you are, where you live and what your hobbies are.  That way if someone in California needs to know something about Virginia - you'll know to ask Mary!  Or if you want to know about Colorado Springs or the Rockies, ask me.  (I may not know the answer off the top of my head, but I live close enough to the park service to find it for you.)  If you want to know about ... you get it.  Anyway.  Start thinking about whether you'll be joining us. 

I had a plan ...

Yeah, I know, even God is laughing.  It's okay.  I can be flexble, really.  My plan was for family fun time tonight.  I wanted to get us out to do mini golf, or another bowling session, or something.  But, Tucker came home from school because he threw up.  So I'm trying to figure out plan B.  Something that won't instigate another session of throwing up, and will still be fun.  Because I want fun in my life.  And there will be fun tonight.