Chit-chat~

So, most likely the cat will not have to go, afterall. But the box turtle needs a home.

My son just called to say he is graduating with honors in a couple weeks. I am so proud of him! His sassy little 18 month old daughter has a lot to say but not enough expressive vocabulary yet. Well, she can express herself; she's very vocal. She's got the "look"! She's got the body language. Pity her parents when the words start piling up into sentences, which reminds me of a joke: I had a few words with my wife; she had a few paragraphs with me.

It's true, females talk more than men. I can think of many reasons why. My hubby pulled a muscle in his back tossing bags of top soil. I called from work to see how he was feeling, and he said, "A little better; so I'll probably mow the lawn." Boy did I have a few paragraphs with him! Tonight he'll be begging for pain relief and a back massage.

Well, it's 5:00 and I'm headed back to school for a meeting.

Help?

Desperately seeking a good home for my son's 2 yr. old cat. White with gray patches. He's neutered, nofront claws, gentle, very sweet and docile, good around kids. Please someone...

Poetry? Me? Really? Yes!

A couple of years ago, I heard Richard Newman of River Styx read his poetry at a Writer's Guild meeting,and I thought, If that is poetry, then I can do it! And I did. I compressed lengthy prose and wrote some award-winning poetry. I'd always had a knack for writing rhyming, humorous poems, but the word poetry made me think of all those mind-boggling lines with layered meaning that gave me a brain ache. Although I enjoy St. Louis Writer's Guild Open Mike Nights,I never thought I'd attend a poetry reading. I attended one last night at Puddin' Head Books in Webster Groves headed up by Amanda Wells, Publisher of Literal Chaos, a local literary magazine. I even read my work after the featured readers. Bill and I had a great time and especially enjoyed Evan Copacetic Soul, an outstanding slam poet. I shall never nibble a Thin Mint Girl Scout cookie again without thinking of his hysterically funny routine. His other pieces were heart wrenching, and gut busting. A most enjoyable night.

Stepping out of a comfort zone is not easy; trying new literary things is challenging, but in order to grow, a writer must reach in all directions. Stretch yourself.

Getting sidetracked~

I was determined to catch up the nine journals that I keep for our grandchildren. Just planned to jot a few sentences about their Easter visit at our house. I keep getting sidetracked. Now I have fifteen minutes before I have to get ready for work. Should I exercise or write? Think I'll lift a few weights instead of a pen and promise to catch up tonight. That's what I say anyway.

Going to Puddinhead Bookstore this evening for poetry reading and open mike. Hope to see you!

My day begins~

I just went outside to get the newspaper. Sometimes I feel embarrassed creeping out in my long robe, but then I think, Why? Most women expose more of themselves in street clothes than I do in night clothes.

The morning is still, the air thick and warm; I feel relaxed and ready for a new day. Early morning and late evening, just before dark have always been my favorite times of the day. My respirations are even, my thoughts unrippled, unlike during the day when I'm juggling a million things. The best gift I received this morning was a big round pink-tinged, sun-filled cloud in an otherwise gloomy, dark cloudy sky. And we have the cutest little chipmunk in residence.

My life at the moment~

The wind is whipping around like the stories in my head. You'd swear this was Chicago instead of St. Louis. I'm not complaining; I love having my hair windblown.

I'm going to sit on the patio and finish my book and pretend this is sea breeze.

Thin Threads has accepted my stories after multiple edits, and I feel a huge sense of relief about that. I think I'm on the right track now. Never stop beieving that you can do it. Persistence pays off.

We went to a friend's 60th birthday party. I had such a good time visiting with Phil and Pat, friends from high school. He's a vocalist, guitarist and the band was great. Best of all, Bill and I danced the night away. It's been a long time since we've gone dancing; we should dance more often. It was invigorating. We still have what it takes to jitterbug, Texas two step, waltz and belly rub.

Honing in on the real picture~

I hammered out a poem about the moon and sent it to twincranespress@gmail.com The editors, Robert Miltner and Lisa Vargas are seeking 30 lines or less, about the moon. There is no entry fee; don't know if this pays. I had the perfect story which I condensed into a poem. Talk about tight writing! Try to compress one of your essays into a one page poem. That is so hard to do for flowery, descriptive writers like myself who want to help the reader see the details of the entire picture. Think of this exercise as a snapshot rather than a huge portrait. Crop the minor stuff and watch your poem come into focus.