magic

Mundania Strikes Again

How are you? I hope this post finds you well and your problems solvable. To be honest, I can’t recall if Mundania ever struck before, but there I was, sitting on a toadstool when I noticed my feet were getting wet. I swam to the waterfall and tried to reach the diverter but I lost my grasp and fell into a never-ending chasm called real life. Don’t you hate when that happens to you?

If you’re interested in the boring version: Earlier I was sitting on a wooden stool beside a file cabinet, tabbing the folders with large letters written in magic marker on crisp white paper when I realized the washing machine should have been done by then. I walked into the bathroom and noticed the water like a crime scene. I saw the pool of liquid and marveled at how hard I must have hit something to have made the copper leak. Eventually, my attention was pulled to the larger pool and the true source of the problem. I shut off the washer, but I couldn’t reach to unplug it. I shut the water off. I cleared everything I saw as a possible hindrance. I pulled out a measuring cup and began filling a bucket. As I was filling the bucket a second time, I thought about getting some towels to sop up the water I was standing in. As if there was some cosmic joke running around on the loose, I felt a tingle in my ankle. I don’t think I was shocked, just my sense of self trying to highlight the whole “you are standing in water in front of a machine that might be suffering an electric problem,” shouting to be noticed. I looked to the electric panel, but it’s a 50/50 toss up on which switch to pull. I cleared a path to that closet for Husband to figure out when he arrives home.

 (As I jot this, I’m still waiting.)

Sorry for no interesting pictures. I didn’t think to photograph the bouquets recently. I bought three and washed windows. I forgot a lot about how to host, but also remembered arcane things. In pulling away from what it turns out were contrivances, I do feel quieter and very in tune to the futility of all the things that I think are major in life – but in pursuing those, I ended up where I wanted to be. I think. Maybe. Does that make any sense?

And attuned, I’ve been. I have a “master list” of things I want to “get done” and have put off some tasks. One was taking care of the sleeping bags. It turned out that I was glad I didn’t force the issue because they were used for a makeshift bed for someone. Likewise, there has been a hesitancy to clean/clear the shelves above the washing machine and now this has occurred.

That sounds like a rationalization for procrastination, doesn’t it? Perhaps they are magic words that cast a spell and when someone says they will do something tomorrow, there will be a tomorrow – otherwise the guy doesn’t ride out on his chariot or there’s a minor tremor and Sisyphus catches a break. Who knows how the world works when myth or quantum physics enter the conversation? And look, Mr. Quantum Physics is wearing that damn green felt hat with the long brown feather again even though several variations of this entity know exactly how much I hate that thing…  

Oh! Two deadlines just walked in draped in grey lace. I have to return to my toadstool now. Take care of you and know that you matter to me somehow.

Thank you for stopping by and for the read!

Cheers!

Priorities and/or delusions

Often, I have a list of topics to cover before I start my blog. Not so with this one. What I have is increasingly annoying notices that I am close to using up all of my monthly “usage,” so no pictures this time. I blame Snovember and having to send Husband’s pictures to his friends and family. If you need pictures, you can look on my Facebook page at a building that crumbled under the weight of the snow. We didn’t get a lot of snow here and I’m grateful for that.

It’s #PitMad on Twitter today. That will drive me over my usage amount, but if I get a tweet favorited by an agent, I’m willing to believe it will be worth it. I did get a favorite from an acquisitions editor last time, but even as I sent the requested material, I knew in my heart it wasn’t going to work out. Sometimes, I hate my sixth sense.

Thanksgiving was dignified and respectful. I’m glad of that. My niece and nephew will be flying into Buffalo in a few weeks for a Christmas visit, so after neglecting the housework while I worked on my latest novel, I’m cleaning the house, kicking out the spiders, and debating if I need to hold onto everything I touch. I’ve put several sweaters and shirts in the donation pile and three cookbooks are on their way, too.

So that is the fun going on around here recently. I’m enjoying this “break” from the novel. When I go back to rewrite it, I know I now have a much better sense of the character’s motivations that I didn’t in the first draft. One thing I will always love about writing is how characters come alive, reveal themselves, and alter what you thought their plotline was going to be. It’s the best kind of magic.

 

(These are my creek side reflections. Your experiences should vary.)