change

I bought new undies today, and pink pajama pants, and all in an effort to make me feel better. Nicole got her first job after filling out her first application. She needed shoes and stuff to start, so the shopping was on. I am still sick, although the wireless connection up here is better since moving the router a bit, and while that has little to do with wellness or illness, I am happier for it.

Here is my current list of distractions:
Harp practice
Reading mysteries
Food
Meetings about what is wrong with me
Romance
Step children
Making a yo-yo quilt
Money and how to get rid of it quickly
Work, to keep the money rollin' in

See, writing isn't even on the list.

Writing. There. I listed it. The odd thing is that I don't feel as though my writing is alive unless I post it here. I used to be of the mind that writing had to be on yellow paper (see previous post), that anything not handwritten was simply absent the Hemmingway portent. And that may be true. But I like my blog. I like this venue. It has allowed me to let go, for the most part, the notion of editing (some of you will bemoan this aspect) but really, releasing the inner editor is exhilarating. Kill the fucker. He never lets me finish anything. He has the muse tied up in the closet, duct-taped to the vacuum cleaner that never gets used in the winter, and we may not hear from her until the weather changes. She's not even fighting it. I don't think she cares any more than I do.

hmmm.

Sick as I am, I practiced my harp this morning. It is very specific--harp practice: certain fingers on certain strings at certain times in certain orders in certain arrangements of wrist and knuckles. I got through my exercises. Now I only have to do them one more time today.

Haley wants to be a fire dancer. Last week it was the banjo and a washboard. She wants those flaming things for her birthday. I'm sure we'll find some for her. A girl's gotta work.

I dropped out of the writing group. Did I already say that? I did. I just simply said, "I'm dropping out." And I got a nice letter from the nice person who kind of organized it saying she wanted to stay in touch.