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Archive for June, 2013

Doesn’t that sound promising?

I’m just about ready to stop drinking for good AND demand everyone else do that too so we can all be on even ground when we interact.

And how were your past two weeks?

I’ve been practicing the “wear a smile, you’ll feel better” exercise and it does seem to be working. Really. Even with this seemingly unending pile of rejections and disappointments, I do feel a bit better. I swear.

By the end of today, the garden should be completely planted and weeded. We’re supposed to have decent weather this weekend and with any luck, the other bed should get tilled and then the clover can be planted. Yeah! My sister brought me two broccoli plants which are now in a big pot and they’ll go in the resting bed as soon as possible along with the peas. I’m hoping for a good second crop since I couldn’t get the first planting in this year.

Aside from the “smile even though your life is a crap heap” exercise, the biggest thing going on is that I have new goals. Mary Aker’s book launch is on 21 September at the Roycroft. I’ve already bought my ticket. That gives me a few months to get my act together. The library I volunteer at is going to summer hours so I’ll be able to achieve my Camp NaNo goals a little bit easier in July, and I’ve made it halfway through “Campus Crimes” with edits. Not too shabby.

So the next time we meet, I’ll be a few days into Camp NaNo. I wonder if I’d like going to camp so much if I’d ever gone to one as a kid. This go round, I’m planning on essays and short stories. If I manage the not drinking by then, in the evening hours I’ll be editing the hell out of the book I wrote for April’s Camp NaNo. Plans are such beautiful, encouraging, elusive things.

Oh, the title of this blog was culled from a poem I wrote twenty years ago. Part of it goes like this:

I’m a perfectionist
and if I do things badly
I don’t want to do them at all.

I never could get drunk right,
so I’ll quit drinking and
we’ll stop speaking.

No. I don’t want to explain the circumstances that brought about that poem into being or anything else that’s bothering me… So, go on with your awesome lives. Be pretty. Be smarter than I am. Pay attention. There may be a test you didn’t study for…

(*These are just my slightly nutty creekside reflections after two weeks of things going off in directions I wasn’t expecting. Why I ever think things will settle/calm down is beyond me. Your experiences may vary. I should hope so.)

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Taking Alex’s advice, I am doing what I can do…

This is a picture of the creek I live by. The house is to the right.

060503_1933[00]The iris bloomed last week.

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The tomato and pepper plants are in the garden.

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This is the interior of the portico with the wisteria growing up the side.

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I saw these blooming outside the hallway window last night.

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Due to the way the creek changed this year, we have a swimming hole.

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The peonies started to bloom this week.

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Besides the political nonsense and the environmental destruction, I’ve had a lot of disappointment with my so called writing career recently.  I knew there were going to be days (weeks) like this, but that doesn’t make them pass any faster or lessen the sadness, so I’m posting pictures of the things that I’m grateful for, besides my tremendous friends, family, Husband and colleagues. I truly am grateful. I’m just having a bad few weeks and I know, I need to get back to writing, submitting and repeating and I will. It’s just hard to find the desire right now.

I’m blaming the rain.

My dreams haven’t been helping with the sadness. “Dexter” was my boyfriend in one. I’d cheated on him and he wasn’t going to kill me, he was just going to torture me. I’ve never woken up more fearful, disturbed, and upset than after that dream.

I don’t know what to blame for that one.

(*These are just my Creekside Reflections. Your outlook on life may vary.)

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