Monday, And A Picture
A busy little bee, that’s me. Saturday I worked at the bookstore, then had to run ’round like a nervous cat getting a second lamp for the living room (we’ve been without the second lamp for almost a year and it’s too dim in there. Notice how I just leapt right on that job.) from Bed Bath & Beyond. I also found some rose candles–Froopy likes roses, and I am finding that the scent doesn’t irritate me the way it used to. I suspect there has been an advance in fake rose scent. Either that or I will have to retry a few of my least favorite things to see if my tastes have changed.
I also had to visit Target near the mall to see if they had a beanbag for the Froop, and a belt. I forgot to look at belts there, but we did stop in at the Halloween store. Froop groused about how commercialised the holiday was becoming, and I snorted ungracefully and remarked that it was a mark of how much humans still fear the dark and unknown. Else they wouldn’t spend so much cash on costumes, jack o’lanterns, and the like.
I got a wry agreement in return and made up my mind to drop by Party Central later on this week for outside decorations. I might as well. We don’t get many trick or treaters, and I want to get rid of the candy I always buy this year, for once. If we decorate a bit we might lure a few unsuspecting little people to take teeth-rotting bits from us.
Sunday was spent moving very slowly but getting a lot of housework done. It’s nice to be able to tell the kids, “Please clean ____ up” and have it actually done. (Well, the Little Prince needs a bit more direction. But otherwise, very nice.) Plus I ran out to the Target near my house and got a sweater coat, a belt for the Very Tall and Thin Froop, and of all things, fabric softener.
Yes, I am a cavalcade of wondrous acts.
I realized the problem I’ve been having with writing this past week has been creative exhaustion. One must fill the well before one can draw from it, and I’ve been drawing without filling for a while. Which treads dangerously close to burnout. I found myself reading Marguerite Duras–in specific, The Sea Wall–which is a sure sign that I’m feeling tired and burnt out. So writing is going to have to take a back seat for a little while until the well is full and my fingers begin to itch again. Which is, pardon my language, a total bitch, because I have the next few scenes in two books that I want to get out of my head and onto the paper.
Grrr.
Anyway, I promised a picture, didn’t I? Here’s a self-portrait.
That’s me at my sister’s house in Bellingham not long ago–before the car blew up on the way back.
Oh, one other thing. Reader Liz pointed me to Seth Lakeman, a Celtic/folk/acoustic musician. His album Freedom Fields is pure Muse crack, especially The White Hare and The Colliers. It’s gushing into the well. *grin* Thanks, Liz!
Have a good Monday, Readers. As Maili often says, be good, be bad, and be safe.
Or as Danny might remark, “Be good. Because being bad gets me upset. You don’t want to see me upset. Trust me.”
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