Be A Writer?

assorted color kittens

However, we’ve figured out Miss Kitty is moving her kittens, so some of them aren’t happy.

Today has been a day for chasing. My nose has had issues, I believe I must have allergies I never had before. Some times during a day my nose runs, my eyes run, and if I’ve not been careful enough with my diet don’t get between me and the potty, and they say I don’t get enough exercise.

At least at this stage of life on my forms, I can put retired, instead of primitive artist. Not that I’m not still a primitive artist, but trying to explain primitive artist was as elusive as being one.

But what does running or chasing have to do with writing? The writing I do has a lot of chasing. Even then it doesn’t always come out like I’m wanting, but some days I hit the jackpot. Today I was researching for a half a page scene. Almost all morning I chased Scottish fiddle music, accordions, and of all things washtub bass. I have shared a video at the end. A bit longer than I wanted, maybe, but I did skip through it till he started playing some pieces.

I do learn many things some of which I never wanted to know, some I won’t use but once, and yet most of it makes the writing experience interesting and hopefully the written story better.

I was tempted to begin with the phrase, today has been pleasant, and it has. In spite of the allergies, listening to music and how-to videos is good. The weather has moderated a bit so we’ve been able to turn off the air and open my office door onto the deck.

I can listen to the outside sounds. The birds are trying to feed their babies and scare the resident deck cat away.

She, the cat we named Miss Kitty, had her litter of kittens this week and we know where they are—under the deck. I don’t know how she found a way under there but we may have to work an intervention.

Suddenly one of the kittens began an incessant crying. And that isn’t pleasant. However, we’ve figured out Miss Kitty is moving her kittens, so some of them aren’t happy. Any tomcat around here is on notice, seen in this vicinity its life is forfeit. Tomcats aren’t native to this farm and stray tom cats are only bad news.

It is a strange idea that in four weeks our weather will be transitioning to autumn and falling leaves will be peeking around the corner. Eight weeks will bring even cooler weather nipping at our noses.

At this moment those changes seem like a long time away and the weather today is almost perfect. At times in my life I wish I could have put a border around certain days or happenings.

There are those happenings when moments were golden. Maybe it was a birthday party, a Sunday lunch, a graduation, or just a one on one special moment.

Childhoods go past much too fast. When people used to ask me why I didn’t send my kids to preschool I told them I only have these children for five years then public school takes over. I’m going to keep them as long as I can…

That was before we won back the right to be in charge of our children’s schooling. The principle was right and even after we began homeschooling our children, we still only have them for a few years before they are gone out into the world.

And that too is gone in a flash. “Well,” Old Fuzzy says to me, “That was thirty years ago.” “No, no that’s not possible. Not thirty years.” I’m in painful denial. It doesn’t seem possible that thirty years can just disappear, not without a trace, but at least in a flash.

 Ecclesiastes 6:

3  If a man beget an hundred children, and live many years, so that the days of his years be many, and his soul be not filled with good, and also that he have no burial; I say, that an untimely birth is better than he.

4  For he cometh in with vanity, and departeth in darkness, and his name shall be covered with darkness.

5  Moreover he hath not seen the sun, nor known any thing: this hath more rest than the other.

6  Yea, though he live a thousand years twice told, yet hath he seen no good: do not all go to one place?

7  All the labour of man is for his mouth, and yet the appetite is not filled.

8  For what hath the wise more than the fool? what hath the poor, that knoweth to walk before the living?