I am in Manzanita again, Summer in Words, a three-day workshop with various writing instructors, writers, poets, wannabees. Few of the latter this time around. Very good information about structure that pulls little threads loose from the fabric of all I think about writing and unravels certainty.
This is not a bad thing. But it does inspire me to create a folder called "writing practice" and put the last 15 years of writing in it. One of the instructors was that convincing. Those of you who know me, and who write because you have to, will not be surprised. I've been looking for the grail for awhile and may have found it. Or that's how it seems today. The whole notion of get an idea and just see where it goes has cost me alot of time and money.
But Duffy and me are here, staring out at a bright ocean, kite-surfers flinging along the waves, and I am heading over to have jambalaya with Jessica. Duffy is being so good.
Monday, June 14, 2010
This is not the photo I intended to post. I was going for a shot of my coffee table, but here is it anyway, my old house in Talent.
From time to time I dedicate a day to saving myself a little, or a lot, of money. It usually evens out in favor of money, but I do what I can.
I am a catalog shopper. Truthfully, I'm just an all around shopper, but for today, let's just focus on the catalog expenditures. They add up. They never seem like much, late in the evening, feet up on the coffee table, the click of numbers don't seem related to cash. But they are. Then the clothes arrive -- always clothes -- and sometimes they fit, sometimes I hate them. So back they go... but that's the thing... often not for months and months. I gotta hand it to those catalog companies.... too many to mention, j.jill my favorite, they'll wait a very long time, take my returns, and give me my money back. They are patient though. With each new return comes another catalog, another opportunity for disappointment or delight. Neither lasts very long.
But today is return day. I gathered up that pair of maroon velvet shoes that were too narrow; a great big vest I must have bought on a very fat day; an even bigger black silk blouse I could get lost in; one black turtle neck sweater -- I have too many already -- and a number of other items I once couldn't live without. I marched down to Fred Meyer, purchased a roll of strapping tape, some brown wrapping paper and went for it. I sat in the parking lot and wrapped my packages like Christmas in June on asphalt. Only one person commented on the amount of tape I was using. You could hear it stripping off the reel across the parking lot. I always consider nuclear explosions a possibility and take appropriate precautions. I forgot to bring scissors, so my pocket knife had to do. Since I was in the wrap and send mode, I also send some beautiful wool fabric to my friend. Then, I stacked my packages in front of Duffy's little car seat, drove to UPS and off they went. Ahhhh. A cleansing breath.
Thanks for not asking why I thought I needed maroon velvet shoes.
At any rate, there's nothing like new carpet and linoleum to inspire a good house cleaning. Our carpet goes in tomorrow, linoleum next day, yard sale the following weekend. It's gonna be big. I'm in the mood to get rid of everything. I won't, of course, but once the house gets put back together, there is likely to be some excess. Tiny bit.
One thing for sure, I'm finally getting rid of my coffee table, the one I bought for ten bucks from Tracy. She'd had it stored beneath some rabbit cages for years. Cooky had it before she did. looking around, it is one of the only remaining vestiges of my yard sale life. I love that table.