My Excuse

One of my excuses for sitting in front of the TV is that I make bears at the same time. In fact, it seems that I find it hard not to sew without it; at least the finishing touches. Although I do listen to music at times while making bears. But, that fact should go on another blog. Unfortunately, sitting in front of the TV is also another block to writing. One good thing is I don't get as much TV time as I've been used to. I need to share my time with the likes of Word Girl or Elmo and movie night. I admire, but can't fathom, people who can exist without it.

I just finished reading an article on one of my favorite authors--Mary Kay Andrews--who used to write for the Atlanta Journal Constitution and is now a best-selling author of mysteries. What a perfect inspiration for my just professed journey into the world of writing.

Here goes---It was a dark and stormy night--oh wait, that's Snoopy's novel!

I have lots of notebooks laying around laden with lots of intention AND this trusty computer.
No more excuses!

If

If I were a writer, wouldn't I be blogging everyday? Wouldn't I have books filled with thoughts?

My intention is to join a group of women writers and I need to do an exorcise about my life. Time is closing in and I have the book with helpful suggestions (in fact I have two) from the founder of this group but no words are forthcoming.

I've wanted to be a writer for quite a long time. Maybe that stems from the fact that I admired some of my mother's writings and wanted to emulate her. Maybe not. I've taken a few writing classes and I like to read--criteria for being a writer.

It's just my "monkey mind" as the yoga teacher calls it messing with me. Telling me I don't have time; or what do YOU have to write about; or even listening to past teachers who told me what I wrote was okay but . . . or a boss that told me I wrote like Hitler (this from a clog-wearing lunatic?). All I'd have to do is write a revised version, not take that to heart and give up. I'm sure Hemingway or Austen didn't write a masterpiece the first time.

Let's count up the writing successes. I've edited and wrote articles for two newsletters; had an editorial published; and I've had a story published in an anthology from a creative writing class.

Hey "monkey mind"--take that!!!

Blogging is writing so maybe visiting here everyday and actually entering my thoughts would be a good idea.

Going For The Cure

Complaining never gets you anywhere, except for the road to sadness (for lack of a better word) and more complaining. That said, I'm going to get off that road and look for the positive in things. I'm sure I'll like that way of thinking a lot better. It already makes me happier thinking this way.

I've been altogether too serious most of my life. That's really a bummer. My goal is to laugh more. I may have to pretend for a while since I'm a giggle squelcher but I will get there.

On to my day!

Grateful

I'm very grateful to have a loving home to be living in; grandchildren who are a joy to watch grow up; and co-workers who have become friends. Friday I worked alone from three to four. About halfway through, Tammy called to make sure I was doing okay by myself. I thought that was very nice. Although sometimes I need a little motivation to get myself to work; it's a fun place to be and I'm glad I took the job.

Off to the Races

My happiest moment yesterday was watching Jack and Sally running up and down the hall; laughing hilariously. For a while they were also jumping from couch to couch in the living room with Jack giggling continuously. Kudos to Sally for hardly trying to bite as a form of play. It was heartwarming to watch a boy and his dog having so much fun.

Now I'm on the hunt for today's happy moment. Trying, of course, not to be brought down by a note on my car asking me not to park in a certain place (don't know exactly what it says yet because I haven't seen it--Stacy saw it). Where am I supposed to park when someone else is in the spot directly in front of the house and I can't block the mailbox or the mailman will scream. Across the street is the neighborhood lunatic who I might find sitting naked on my car with a gun if I park there. There's a solution to this dilemma I just haven't figured it out yet.

What's In A Name

I don't think I've ever been thrilled with my name. Lots of people say how pretty it is. I love to tell the story of how I got the name. My mother was drying a frying pan and when she turned it over there on the bottom was the name Laurel. Good thing it wasn't Revere ware or something like that.

I try to make it funny and give it some punch; when people ask me what my name is I say "Laurel, like Laurel and Hardy". I like the laughter it brings. I am also delighted when they say no, like mountain Laurel or something more feminine.

My mother never liked her name. Her mother didn't have a cute story to go with it. In fact, the doctor named my mother. I suppose after six or eight kids out of a total of ten you get name weary.

One reason I've never been excited by my name is it's so serious? for lack of a better word. Although it is rather unique; I haven't run into a lot of people with the same moniker. I guess I'm grateful that I wasn't named something like Buffy or anything equally as cutesy.

Now, due to a typo on my part, I'm called Grammo. Another unique name that I haven't heard anyone else being called. I might have bristled at it in the beginning thinking it was a combination of Grandma and Elmo but I like it.

What Was I Thinking

Comfortable life is great--until, that is, it gets in the way of what's really important. Should I sit in front of the tube making a bear or have a tea party with Josie? I'll be making bears for a long time. Josie may not want to party with me as she gets older. Besides it was a healthy tea party with yogurt. Then she dons her three-cornered hat that she made at school and announces that she's George Washington, head of the Salvation Army.

Another precious moment followed with my playing the keyboard while Josie played her violin. One of my goals for being here in Athens. I didn't (well sort of) care that I wasn't hitting all of the right notes. It was just good to play together. It reminded me that I need to practice more. Practicing, as Stacy says, should be done every day you eat. If that were true as I've been doing it would be a great diet.

Now it's on to practicing Puccini; or, Too Darn Hot.

Hmmm

I guess I could live the rest of my life like this; of course I haven't consulted anyone else about this plan. But then the whole point of making a big change was to do something different--find the real me.

While I'm figuring it out; or implementing decisions it's nice to watch Jack and Josie grow. To hear that the Tooth Fairy now lives in Florida because that's where the quarter she got for her tooth is from; or, that maybe that's her name. Or if you ask Jack if he wants to do something he'll say yeah sure very matter of factly.

The whole point of this post? None really, maybe just to remind myself that I shouldn't get too cozy; I have a life to be lived and things to accomplish.