Sometimes I write . . .

 

 

I'm often asked how do I come up with something new to write about each day. I was pondering that very question in bed last night as I watched old sitcoms on my laptop and fiddled with embroidery threads on a flour sack tea towell. 

I've been writing for a very long time now.  Some days take care of themselves, like the days I do my Simple Woman's Daybook, or my favourite things, etc.  There are three days a week when I don't have a theme however, Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays.  Those days take discipline I suppose and a bit of extra inspiration. Mostly I just sit down and write about whatever it is that comes into my head.

I could be inspired by something I've seen or heard, or I could be channeling how I am feeling, reminiscing, all sorts. There is no end to the drivel that goes through my mind. Sometimes what I have to say is very hum drum and other days I knock the ball right out of the park. Mostly I just talk about things that are going on in my life. 

 

 

 

The fact that many of you still read and are still here after quite a number of years is not lost on me.  I appreciate your hanging around and sticking with me. I've taken many of you on quite the journey with me through the years. Up hill. Down hill. In and out. Here and there. Back and forth across oceans and on journies even I didn't want to take.

You've all been a part of that for the most part and I am so grateful for that.  For what is a writer without an audience?  Just a person who puts words to paper/screen.  For the most part you are my inspiration and the impetus that helps me to keep moving. In other words, my page would be nothing without you. I write. You read. I write some more. Co-dependant. I love it. 

I can still remember how very excited I was when I got my very first comment. Oh my, but that was a very long time ago now!  I was practically jumping up and down!  Okay, I jumped up and down a little bit. (Not a pretty sight I can assure you.)

 

I still get excited about comments.  And sometimes I get hurt, but mostly excited I'm happy to say. Writers need to have a bit of a thick skin, but sometimes my skin is very thin. I do wear my heart on my sleeve. But I like that about me. Its a part of what makes me . . .  me. 

 

 

I strive to be authentic, to be honest, with myself and with you. Always. Even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.  Lets face it. There is no such thing as a charmed life. Only people who are really good at making it look easy.  Life bashes us all from time to time, and sometimes it bashes us harder than hard. I like to think that the bashes make us stronger, more pliable, more willing, kinder. 

It would be totally irresponsible on my part were I to reflect a perfect life when there is no such thing as hurt or anger or sadness. A bit like my food photos I guess.  You see something delicious on the plate, but you don't see the chaos just outside of the frame. This blog is not like that.  On this page you get the deliciousness on the plate, combined with the chaos just outside of the frame. 

And some days there is plenty of that!  And yet, still you come. You read. You comment. You support and that brings me joy, immeasureable joy. It makes me happy that you're here, and sometimes that's all I have in my life, but thankfully . . .  that's very rare and I mostly have so much more.

 

  

Sometimes I have a very large life, and sometimes life gets very small.  I am okay with both of those things and with everything in between.  Life is interesting to me. Aways, and even the mundane can be exciting if you let it be.  

Yesterday I was watching two of the cats interact here.  

 

There was Pumpkin and a large paper bag.  Pumpkin is my mom's cat that my sister inherited.  Orange like a pumpkin and she is somewhat grumpy. Her tail wags even when she's happy and she bites, but when she loves, she really loves.  Pumpkin loves to get inside things. Boxes, closets . . . paper bags. She likes to sit in them like a Queen on her throne and woe to anyone who dares to disturb her zen.

Then we have Jazzy.  Jazzy, the found kitten. Did they find her or did she find them?? Either way it was a lucky discovery for both. Jazzy is full of boisterous energy and a zest for life.  She has a measured respect for the two older cats, tempered with youthful exuberance. It is fun to watch them together.  

She is a hit and run dive bomber. Sometimes she will run right up to one of the older cats, usually Pumpkin, at full tilt and then stop just short and bound off in a completely different direction. Always just prior to smack down in an effort to prevent retribution. Such it was yesterday, with Pumpkin sitting in her paper bag and Jazzy running interference all around the outside of the bag.  A little tap here . . .  a little tap there. Quite entertaining. To me at least.

They make me want to get a cat.

 

 

Yesterday  I came to the conclusion that I can have a house or I can have a car, but I don't think I can have both just yet. Not without totally emptying my nest egg.  And the house is a priority.  So I had to tell my dad that I couldn't get a car just yet.  That was hard for me.  He's had this friend with a car to sell and I know he was feeling really proud about sourcing this car for me.  I hate letting people down. But sometimes it just can't be helped. Rome wasn't built in a day and I've been trying to build Rome in a day. Good things come to those who wait.  I can wait.

And in the meantime I will be a burden on my sister I know.  And I so appreciate that. I really do. Family.  They have done so much and mean so much to me. I am so grateful for mine. We support each other, or at least we try to. My sister's art is being exhibited in the Town Library at the moment. I'm so proud of her.  She is so talented!  I wish you could see it all.

 

Life has never been easy for my sister or for me. But we have always had each other.  She is the greatest gift my parents ever gave me, bar none. The. Greatest. In a world where many people don't have siblings, or sisters, I am so very grateful for mine. I love her to pieces and back together again, even when she won't let me. Especially when she won't let me. Its a little thing called unconditional love.  Priceless. 

 

 

And so, how do I come up with something to write about each day?  I don't. I just sit and I write. About life and all of its intricacies.  And sometimes is a bit exciting and sometimes its not exciting at all. Mostly its just real. Like watching cats dive bomb paper bags filled with cats, and watching Dan dance across the living room to hits from the 70's with his thumb microphone at the ready.  

 

Moments where I can lay my head against my father's shoulder and feel so very lucky that he is still with us and that (AMAZINGLY) I get to be with him. I never ever thought I would have a chance to see him alive again and lookie here. Life is filled with surprises.  The good. The bad. And mostly everything in between. 

 

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

 

.° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
 *.The comeback is

always stronger than

the set back. •。★★ 。* 。 

 

 

 

In the English Kitchen today  . . .  Fresh Apple Torte.  Deliciously simple!  A great Winter dessert.  They say we are expecting a big snow storm tomorrow! We shall see!

I hope your Saturday sings for you in all the right places.  Be happy, be healthy and know this . . .  

 

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And I do too!!