Month: August 2013

Cramping My Style

Work is cramping my style. I have been swamped at work lately. So busy, that I have been going in an hour early every day and working through lunch just to keep up. That extra hour of early time means that I don’t get to do any writing and of course when I have no time to spend writing, I have lots of great story ideas. All of these ideas come when I’m either walking the dogs, taking a shower or doing something else that entails my hands being otherwise occupied and there is no paper or pen around so I can at least jot down an idea. Then just like a dog seeing a squirrel, I start something else and totally forget what I wanted to say. I have no idea how many story ideas that I’ve lost and are floating around in the mishmash of my brain among all of the other things I’ve forgotten, like where I put the electric bill.

What I need is a thought activated idea recorder that will record my random thoughts, organize them into complete sentences and write a finished polished story. I could then take my idea recorder, plug it into the computer and download this wonderful story. What a superb product this would be. Every writer I know would have one. Sadly I know of no such gadget or believe me I would be the first to own one.

But back to my original thought, work is definitely getting in the way of my writing. (See what I mean about “squirrel”? One minute I’m focused the next off on another tangent.) The audacity of a company in the business of making a profit through the labor of their employees, said company shows its’ appreciation by paying us a salary and actually expects us to work and earn that salary. Can you believe it? Actually work to receive my paycheck? Oh man, the unfairness of it all. But I really like eating, I’m not the starving artist type, so I go in and work every day giving it my all, so for now I have to squeeze out my writing time when I can, right along with my work out time, which isn’t getting done on a regular basis either.

The Day That Shall Remain Nameless

My Monday started off okay, nothing spectacular one way or the other. The dogs actually behaved themselves on the walk. They did their business sniffing and peeing on everything, but acted like perfect little canine gentlemen. I showered, put on my makeup and tamed my crazy, curly hair. My hair hates me and generally does its’ own thing, but I got it to look presentable. So far so good, no sign of impending doom.

If I had any inkling as to how my day would turn out, I would have crawled back into my bed, pulled the covers up over my head… and I would have stayed there for the rest of the day.

On my drive to work, I apparently forgot to remove the target on the back of my car. I had three different morons think that my lane was their lane too. I try to play nice but I draw the line at sharing an eight foot wide space with an idiot driving a pickup truck who was too busy drinking his coffee AND talking on his phone. I have no idea how he was steering and I’m not sure I want to know. I’m a little protective of my 2002 Pontiac Firebird. Even though it’s eleven years old, it is the first car I bought off the showroom floor. It’s too bad I don’t have a bazooka… I wonder if I can get one online.

Walked into work, climbed the stairs to my Department and sat down at my desk. I poured a cup of coffee from my thermos. I’m all by myself in the mornings, so I get a calm moment before everyone else gets in and the crazy starts.

At nine, my boss called me and asked that I come into his office. A project I had worked on for weeks had become a top priority and was needed for a big meeting in half an hour. Super. The spreadsheets won’t work properly on his computer. Double super. So I did what any sane person would do, I called a friend and coworker for help. Crisis averted with a few minutes to spare, keeping me from spending the morning in ladies room crying.

The meeting was almost two hours of looking at spreadsheets on the big overhead screen. Long meetings are a death knell for me, my eyes glazed over and I started to nod off. I can’t sit still that long without falling asleep. So I sat there scribbling on my note pad, wiggling my feet and fidgeting like a six year old, trying to stay awake.

The final blow to the day was when I slammed the middle finger on my right hand in the door to the ladies room. Granted most bathroom stall doors aren’t very menacing, but the bathrooms were built European style with each stall designed as a sort of closet with floor to ceiling doors, just like a regular interior door with sharp corners. I slammed it so hard that the door cut my finger on one side and produced a giant blood blister on the other side. I stood in the stall squeezing my finger that sent throbbing pain all the up my arm and to the pit of my stomach. I thought I was going to get sick. It took a minute for the finger to start bleeding but when it did I had drips all over the floor. I had a nice blood trail going and, with my loud epitaphs, a body would think that someone had been murdered.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Monday’s suck. No beating around the bush on this, no sugar coating it. Monday’s just suck. So, I have decided that I am no longer going to refer to Monday as Monday. From now on Monday shall be called “The Day That Shall Remain Nameless!”.

To quote Yul Brynner in The King and I, “So shall it be written so shall it be done, etc. etc. etc.,”. Great movie, I bet it wasn’t filmed on a Monday.

Spider Webs, Dragonflies and Butterflies

This morning was a beautiful morning, perfect for the camera. I got some great shots of the morning dew, nature and of course, Charlie and Orso.

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I found a few ground webs still wet with the morning dew. I couldn’t see the resident and didn’t want to get too close anyway.

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This web had a small grasshopper on a blade of grass above it. I couldn’t tell if the little guy was stuck or not.

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This was a beautiful dragonfly that landed for a brief moment.

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Another shot of the dragonfly.

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A small butterfly landed on a Black-Eyed Susan for some nectar.

I have a lot more to share this week. These were taken with my Canon Rebel and EFF 55-250mm telephoto lens.

Banned Television

The list of television shows that I have been banned from watching has grown. The newest TV show on the no-watch list is the Dr. Oz Show. The reason, I watch part of a segment think what a great idea and try it. The results are never what the show touts. Granted, it’s not the show’s fault that I haven’t seen the complete segment, but nonetheless I am not a responsible adult when watching these shows.

I see some new exercise that looks easy, but in reality I need to be twenty something weigh about ninety pounds and have the bone structure of an octopus. I try but there is no way I will ever be able to twist my body in the pretzel shape that is supposed to relieve back pain and make me more flexible. All I did was help my chiropractor pay for his summer vacation.

I landed on the show one day while channel surfing and caught the end of another segment where a man was espousing the benefits of taking Cayenne supplements to help get the maximum metabolism benefit while exercising. He said that taking the supplement would help speed up more calorie burn even when not exercising. So I rushed to the store and bought a bottle of Cayenne capsules. The directions said to take one three times a day with meals. It didn’t say that you should also drink a gallon of water too. I can’t say that my metabolism has sped up and haven’t lost a pound but I do have the worst case of heart burn ever.

I should also add health magazines to the list of avoiding. I read an article in a small health magazine while waiting in the doctor’s office about a super food, Chia Seeds. The article told about vast health benefits of eating just a tablespoon a day, mixing the seeds in a smoothie, sprinkled on a salad or in baking. The article claimed that the seeds contained omega 3 fatty acids, had more antioxidants than blue berries and fiber. So I figured trying it would give me more energy, helping me get back into shape faster and lose weight. No added energy and I gained three pounds.

My reading selections are now limited to the tabloids and the only television I can watch are crime dramas. Maybe I can figure out whodunit and sell it to the tabloids.

Orso, Orso, Orso What am I Going to do with You?

Orso is trying to kill me, or at least maim me. This morning as I was waiting for Mitch to come out to the car so I could take him to work as I do every morning, I reached over the driver’s seat to pet Orso when he turned sideways pinning my arm against him and the barrier bars separating the front seat and the back section of the station wagon. He leaned against the bars crushing my arm, invoking a string of foul language and screeching on my part. It hurt deep down to the bone, I was amazed my arm wasn’t broken.

Of course that would have changed our plans for the morning and I wasn’t dressed for a trip to the emergency room. I hadn’t showered yet or put on any makeup, definitely not a pretty picture at four in the morning. I could see the whole scenario in the emergency room now.

The first question would be, “Are you in an abusive relationship?” and the nurse would look sideways at Mitch.

I would hesitate and say, “Yes I’m definitely in an abusive relationship, but not him. It’s my dog that beats me up.”

The nurse wouldn’t believe me and call in a counselor and then the whole day would be shot which would put Mitch in a foul mood, getting him arrested. Then after I get my cast I would have to go the ATM and get money to bail him out, go to court and try to explain why it wasn’t Mitch. I’m not sure that I would be allowed to take Orso into court as evidence, but anyone that owns a big lunkhead like him would believe me.

Luckily for all of us, Orso didn’t break my arm, but I am sporting a huge knot and a bruise that runs across my foreman. That dog is out to get me.

I’m Married to a Ten Year Old Boy

Don’t get me wrong, I love Mitch with a passion and ninety percent of the time he acts like any normal man in his sixties. He takes his responsibilities seriously, has a strong work ethic and for the most part makes good decisions. If you ask almost everyone that knows Mitch, they will tell you he’s an old soul. He is usually pretty serious, doesn’t smile much, which scares a lot of people. He’s reserved and holds himself back a bit around people. Mitch is definitely not in the group labeled that the collective IQ drops when a bunch of guys get together. But every once in a while the ten year old boy comes out to play.

Because we pheasant hunt, we own bird dogs which require daily exercise. Our walks include both dogs sniffing the ground checking the scents left behind by other animals. Squirrels, raccoons and possums beware; these two will sniff them out and if we let them, will give chase. Squirrels run in fear because Charlie is fast enough and has caught and killed a few; Orso goes along for the ride. Geese are another favorite that the dogs love to chase. As long as the geese are not nesting, it is legal to harass geese with dogs in order to make the area less desirable to them. Geese are pretty lazy and will stay around and take over an area if not managed by different means, such as egg shaking and using dogs to make the geese fly. You can’t let your dog attack and kill them, though.

The ten year old boy thought that it was pretty cool to let the dogs chase the geese and make them fly. Well the geese only flew as far as the lake and landed in the water. That did not stop the dogs, only slowed them down a bit. Charlie and Orso jumped right in and started swimming after the geese. The geese swam up and down the lake with the dogs in hot pursuit and refused to come back when called. The two just kept swimming away after the geese to the other end of the lake. Problem one – Mitch discovered that there was no way he could get to the other end as quickly as the geese and the dogs would. Problem two – how would he get to other end quick enough to catch the dogs? Mitch had to run home jump in the station wagon and drive to the other side of the lake. He got there just in time to see the geese and the dogs turn around and start back the way they came. The ten year old boy quickly figured out that the dogs would drown from exhaustion if he couldn’t get them to come out of the water. This meant that he might have to jump in and swim out to them. Mitch finally caught Charlie’s attention and coaxed him to shore, with Orso following. I had two very tired dogs and one husband in the dog house.

One of our neighbors put a deer target out in his front yard propped up against a small tree. The start of our walk yesterday morning was just about sunrise still fairly dark, and the dogs didn’t notice anything, but on the way home the sun had come up and was a lot brighter out. Charlie saw the deer first and froze just staring at the deer; Orso swung around and saw what had captured Charlie’s eye. Both dogs stood stock still waiting for the deer to make a move so they could give chase. Of course Mitch encouraged Charlie to get a closer look, just like a little kid. Charlie lunged at the deer causing Orso to follow suit. The deer statue didn’t move, the dogs felt foolish and now I had a ten year old boy rolling on the ground laughing at the prank. All I could do was stand there, shake my head and roll my eyes.