Emotion. Sometimes it lies.

January 17, 2010 at 7:46 PM

Like blackbirds feasting on my bones. 

Apathy to joy. Happy to sad.
The cause unknown.

They rise and fall, carnivorous flock. 

Flipped over, turned back. 

My heart once soft, becomes a rock. 

Fooled by these capricious fiends, 

All of my compassion gone.

They pick me up, to throw me down.

Heart first full, now empty, bleeds.... 

Wallowing helpless in my pit, 

I whisper out my prayer to you.

Please. Pull me up to where you sit. 

Your love forever strong and true. 

I do myself continual harm, 

then reach out bleeding, for your arm. 

Gently speak you, One Most High. 

Again you find me where I lie.

Retrieving me from self-made pain, 

You draw me up to purest air.

Emotions now caboose my train.

Truth alone, this atmosphere.

Words.

One spoken, they dance like ✨fireflies ✨in the twilight of the recipient's thoughts forever. Considering this, let us speak words that build up, not crush. May we fill the air around us with words of ✨sweetness✨light and above all, the ✨kindness✨that gives wings to ✨hope. ✨

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes..

My life has been pretty much the same for years and years. I've lived in this town since 1987. And while I LOVE Kalamazoo, changes seem to be afoot. My hubs is starting to talk about retiring.  That's all well and good, but he's talking about retiring somewhere besides here.

At first it was Traverse City. I really like that town, but I wasn't sure I wanted to live there. But that doesn't matter anymore because now he talking about moving west to be out in the wild. Idaho to be precise. That will put us SO much closer to our sons that live on the west coast. At first I was like What?? No way!!! What's in Idaho besides potatoes?? But now I'm starting to embrace the idea..  Turns out Idaho is amazing!!! It's home to the largest forested wilderness in the lower forty-eight.  2.3 million acres to be exact!

We aren't leaving tomorrow or anything. A whole bunch of things need to transpire before this move can take place, selling the farm being the biggest hurdle. But that's fine by me. It will give me the time I need to say my goodbyes to the Mitten, and this amazing little city I love...

Fill in the blank..

Green with ____.  Most people have no trouble finishing this sentence.

"Envy is the art of counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own." Harold Coffin

I think we can agree that everyone has felt envy at one time or another. It's not pretty. Or healthy.  In this world of social media I think envy may be more prevalent than ever. We see SO MANY details of other people's lives. Mostly the great stuff that is happening for them.

It all seems to begin with comparison. So there I was, happily tra-la-laing along with my gizmo. Then I checked in on Facebook and saw that someone else has the newer, bigger, better, more expensive  model. I looked down at my gizmo and was not quite as satisfied.  The gizmo I loved just a few moments ago had suddenly fallen short.. So and So has the new model, and it's beautiful. Suddenly, out of nowhere, up pops that niggly, painful feeling..I want what THEY have! And just like that,  envy is born, with maybe a teeny tiny bit of resent thrown in. Ugly emotions both!

Comparison is a dead end street. There is no way we can be happy for others or content with our place in this world if we are always comparing.  Someone will ALWAYS have MORE than us. More money, be more beautiful, more fit, travel more..

To nip envy in the bud I need to be proactive. Figuring out the "triggers" that set off this negative feeling is top priority, then I can avoid getting into those situations. For example, we don't have to follow every single one of our "friends" on Facebook.

I have found that keeping a sufficiency journal where I list my blessings, and practicing the ole daily "attitude of gratitude" is what works best for me.

That..and staying off Facebook, lol!  ;)


Journal Journey Day 7

It's a dog's life.

I crave a life like my dog's.  He is just so chill. His world is what it is.  Snoozing in the sunny spot, sniffing for rabbits along the trail to the barn, assisting me in the kitchen as clean up crew.

He's not worried that yesterday he begged WAY too much or that tomorrow he has a vet appointment. He seems content no matter what he is doing. Sure he has his favorite things to do that make him happy and satisfied, but even so, he has has this easy-going attitude that I admire greatly.

Living in the moment. That's what it is. Finding joy in just being. Content in the now-ness. No matter how badly yesterday went or what's on my plate for tomorrow, I have decided to see every day as a treasure. Even the ones that seem somewhat mundane.
Let them ALL be dog days..


Journal Journey Day 6

Outstanding in my field

By nature I am more than a little laid back (slothful).  I am practically a professional in my area of expertise (doing nothing). My husband thought maybe I would like to get a job (since I don't seem to be getting anything done around the house).

But there doesn't seem to be many jobs that allow for my kind of skill (snoozing), so I have struggled (procrastinated) to find a new career path since my kids have grown up. (never even tried).

I am considering (no I'm not) going back to school to gain more education (do students still play cards in the cafeteria?)  I just haven't decide what I'd like to go into yet. (And probably never will)

Until then, to show my husband that I am a team player (get him off my back), I am considering a job at Marshalls or TJ Maxx (where I will spend more money than I will ever make).


Journal Journey Day 5 (and already slaphappy) ;)

I have nothing to say.

Journal Journey Day 4

Hmmm.. I don't think I have what it takes to journal much tonight. I'm kind of exhausted it would seem,  I have nothing to say. Well that's never stopped me before. Soooo...

I feel like I woke up tired and it has taken every ounce of resolve not to just lay down and pretend I'm sick.  First day back to reality after the holidays....I was up and at 'em early-ish. Rufus had a vet appointment for  his ongoing allergy issues, poor old guy. I had laundry up to my eyeballs and NO hubby friendly food in the fridge. I can't even remember how I used to do all this with four little boys at home. Where did I get that kind of energy? (Where did it go???)

Anyhoo, I  fed the horses their breakfast, then I was off to have Rufus tortured at the vet, followed by the bank and the grocery store. One thing I love about winter is Rufus can tag along on errand days without fear of coming back to the car with the window busted out and a crowd standing around because I was accidentally cooking the dog in the car..

By the time I got home with the groceries I didn't even feel like I had the energy to unload them. I did, but in that weird, take forever, leave them in the bags for an hour way that I hate.  There was a patch of sun on the great room carpet that kept calling to me, but I resisted.

I kept the laundry going (while watching Downton Abbey. I can't believe this is the last season..sad!!) Made a huge pot of spaghetti so my man won't starve and FINALLY made a batch of kombucha.

Back down to feed and close up the barn. The cat ate a mouse in what appeared to be two large bites, then barfed it up on the feed room table..that was fun to clean up.. Ah farm living!!!!

Now I am sitting on my bed surrounded by four huge baskets of clean laundry that need to some how fold themselves and jump into the dresser.

Another early day tomorrow.  Picking the kiddo up at 8 am.. So tired. Must. get. laundry. done...


Zzzzzz....



  

I have a confession..

Journal Day 3

I have a confession to make.  I'm not proud of it. In fact it's extremely embarrassing.  If you came to my house, I doubt that you would even realize it.  I hide it well...

Welcome to my home, pretty orderly and neat, right? A place for everything and everything in it's place, (perennially in need of a good dusting though). Would you like a cup of tea?

WAIT!!! PLEASE!!! Don''t open that CLOSET!!!  Ooh, too late.. Hehe. It's ok, really. No worries, I'll put all that stuff back in there later.. Now, what about that tea?

Open just about any closet or drawer in my house and the ugly truth reveals itself. I am a muddled  messy.  My closets are in chaos, the drawers disorderly, the paperwork punch-drunk. Being so disorganized means that I cannot locate anything in a timely manner. Important things. Tax forms, insurance records, the snorkel gear. Things my husband asks for, things he needs me to find right now. I'm breaking out in a nervous sweat just thinking about it.

This monster problem has been on my New Year's Resolution list for so many years, that it has just  automatically started showing up on it's own every January 1st. I think I may have tried just about every self help book out there. I get better for awhile, but I've never been able to maintain neatness and inevitably I fall back into my same hurried, cram it somewhere patterns.

But wait folks, there's more! And this part is really awkward.. My husband is neat.  He is VERY neat. And orderly.  I know it must drive him crazy that I am messy. Bless him, he has tried to help me. He has organized me with lists and charts and colored stickers.. We make plans for me to have a garage sale, put items on Craig's list and eBay. And it works! At least it works while he's helping me.

But when I am again left to my own devices, I feel overwhelmed with the enormity of the tasks before me. Opening boxes to find that my mother actually saved every one of my art projects from kindergarten?? Well maybe I was no Picasso, but those have to worth something, right?  Did I mention that I also have a bit of a problem with procrastination and am easily distracted?  Trying to decide what stuff is important to keep and what to actually let go of seems gargantuan. I struggle in fits and starts, and eventually everything quietly falls back into disarray.

 I guess you don't need to be an Einstein to grasp this, but I believe the biggest problem to overcoming messiness is "stuff". And I have SO. Much. Stuff. Years and years and YEARS worth of stuff.  Since I live in a large home I have always gotten away with this secret messiness by just putting this stuff in "the storage room"(read: black hole). The room is lined with shelves all the way to the ceiling. In there I have stuff I haven't needed or looked at in years. It's nice stuff. Good stuff. Precious stuff and unnecessary stuff. Stuff I keep because it was my mother's, or maybe even her mother's. Stuff that I have some weird emotional obligation to hold on to forever. All this stuff has begun to feel like a ball and chain.  But it doesn't matter because it is out of sight and out of mind. No need to even think about that room or what's in it. Right?

Well guess what.. my husband wants to downsize. Put the farm on the market, move to a smaller no upkeep place so we can travel. He said he might even like a condo. A CONDO?? I can't fit all this stuff into a condo! The truth is all this stuff is weighting me down, I can't drag it around with me anymore. I truly want to get free!

And now it's real. I have a deadline. We are putting the house on the market May 1st.  I like deadlines, they help me to focus, they get me motivated! I can do this!!! Yes! I will be organized by May 1st!!! I gotta go get started!! I should make a list. And get some stickers. Let's pop the top on this first box...MY kid's kindergarten artwork. Nice! Gotta keep that!

And ooh, look at this! Something shiny..

My fade into Facebook

Journal Day 2

For some time now I've chosen to ignore the fact that Facebook has a tendency to undermine my sense of well-being. Still, I seem drawn to it like a moth to flame. Last night I once again admitted that FB, and to some extent the whole of the Internet does little to enhance my life. The negatives always seem to outweigh the positives. 

While I love keeping up with family and friends through Facebook, the net (how apropos) is thrown wide and I am pulled into what has become for me, a time sucking black hole. 

I will think I am hopping online "real quick like" to check my email and FB, but what inevitably happens is I click on something interesting. Then I click on something else "interesting". Then I click, click, click, click... By the time I come up for air, my coffee has gone cold and 45 minutes will  have passed without me, 45 minutes I won't get back. I've decided I want to be more present in ALL my minutes, so.. 

Day 2 of my journaling journey is also a bit of a "goodbye for now" to my Facebook friends. I will miss you all terribly, but I am in need of a break. I'd like to see something outside this little box I've been staring into. To live a bit more of a natural existence out here in the fray.  

I will probably keep tossing the odd journal entry up onto my blog, and I if you need me, I think my private messenger will keep working since it is supposedly separate from Facebook now, so please feel free to contact me there. 

I wish you blessings my friends, I will be thinking of you! 

Happy New Year! Sweet 2016!

My Journal Journey Day 1: Well hello there stranger..

Just about my one and only resolution for this coming year is to write in a journal every day. That and no more negativity. And to get more exercise, And to eat better. And to...oh you get the idea. Same resolutions, different year. ;)

I didn't intend to journal here, but since I can't find even ONE of my many paper journals, I realized I HAD to write somewhere today or I will have failed my only resolution on Day One. So here goes somethin'..

A new year lays out before me like a freshly discovered path. The anticipation of finding out what's around this next bend is almost palatable.  Exciting! And scary!! So many opportunities to be a better me! To stretch, grow, get out of my rut. To get it right this year!

But really, I can't launch myself into this new year with out a glance back at the year just passed.  So many great experiences. HUGE birthday. (Age is just a number right?) Sweet moments with some heartbreaking times mingled in.  But isn't that the way life is? Whether it's easy breezy or the toughest day of our lives, every second of time we have here is precious.

So my REAL New Year's resolutions? Be present in every moment. Look for the good. Bless others. Seek peace. Chase joy..

Mama

I miss my Mom. 

Always. But especially on Mother's Day. And her birthday. And my birthday, and Christmas and Easter and all the other holidays. I miss her when I have my coffee in the morning, thinking back to years long past..tiny tea cups filled to the brim with warm milk and just enough coffee to make it the lightest tan. 

I miss my mom in the evening as I reach for needle and thread to replace a missing button or repair a seam. I recall my mother patiently teaching my little sister and me how to sew. My mother's hands were never still. Her needle work was a wonder to all, but especially to those of us lucky enough to wear the work of her hands, or to sleep snuggled under one of her homemade quilts.

I miss my mom in autumn, while crunching leaves beneath my feet, I gather them into piles, the fragrance of their burning filling the air. I miss watching my mom can bread and butter pickles. I miss her fresh from the oven crusty bread, eaten with huge steaming bowls of beef stew or bean soup. 

I miss my mom in winter, when I come in from hours out in the snow with frozen fingers, nose and toes and warm myself with hot cocoa and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I miss watching with anticipation, as she made our Christmas outfits from the most beautiful fabrics, green velvet, antique lace and satin. I miss rising in the morning to the smell of freshly baked pecan rolls that were impossible to eat without everyone ending up in sticky disarray.

I miss my mom in springtime, when the early flowers start to bloom and even though I don't have any,  I know it's time to plant the Canna bulbs. I miss watching her sew matching Easter dresses for herself, my little sister and me.

I miss my mom in summer, when I wake to the sweet scent of the lilac bush and hear a cardinal trilling among its branches. When a back door bangs, when I hang freshly washed sheets on the line, when I work in my garden, I miss her. And when look across the porch and see my jug of sun tea turning amber in the afternoon light..

I miss my Mom. 

Blue like a river

Sweet peace slides through my fingers like river water. 
I can feel it's ebb and flow,
tugging at my heart, my mind. 

There and then gone,
It leaves behind a sad hunger in my soul, 
and a longing for it's cool refreshment.

January

Another January day,
The sky hangs low and dripping.
Colorless themes, white, brown and gray.
This winter holds us in it's vise,
the bleakness dull and gripping.

My eyes are starving for hues of spring,
but nowhere to be found.
Just dirt on snow and barren trees. 
This winter raw and brown.

As my spirit threatens to reflect this day, 
my heart becoming blue,
a scarlet bird comes streaking in,
to chase the sad from view.

Calling me..

Sweat mingled with curry on smoky air,
humanity overflows at every turn.
Tunics and turbans. Punjabis and saris. Lehengas, salwar kameez.

Color. Color everywhere. A rainbow bursting from every crowd.

Naked toddlers, bellies bulging,
A people malnourished from rice alone.
Cattle wander loose and honored.
Pots filled with water to lure them near,
hoping they'll bring good luck with their thirst.

Painfully skinny, men run barefoot, down the rock strewn road.
Pulling rickshaws full of boxes and people. Delivery trucks. The human kind.

Chickens so lean they resemble road runners,
scatter in panic,
from those that would twist their necks.
Tonight one may lay on the table.
By tomorrow, nothing but feathers and bones.

Glorious chalk art filling the road,
leading the way to windowless dwellings.
Protection from evil, honoring gods.
Every god and no god, even the unknown god.
Lest they miss one
and in anger it reign down disaster on their home.

They walk to the well, pots balanced. Amazing.
The beautiful women, as slender as reeds.
They walk, hope balanced heavy on their hearts,
for food and clean water, that their babies might live.

Beauty and poverty abound in this land
of lovely, gracious people.
They offer you the honored seat at their table.
Cook their last egg and smile as you eat it.

Later they'll go to their bed mat and lay listening
as hunger, in it's dialect of pain,
speaks in their bellies once more.

Wild Places

I am most truly content when I'm in the great outdoors.
It's where I commune best with my Creator.
I am convinced that the meadows are His antechamber and the forest His temple.
The wilderness? His cathedral.

In it, He has created for me a soothing sanctuary,
a calm hiding place, a wondrous playground.

I hear His voice most clearly in these untamed places. Calling me. 

Speaking my name from the woodland, He draws me out..

I follow His voice, seeking Him. Never has He hidden.

Always I find Him.  Here.

I see His craftsmanship at every turn.
The sky is His canvas.
The heavens and earth His artistry.
He adorns the field with bird, butterfly and berry.
He washes my eyes with colors, blue, green, gold.
Shades so familiar yet unnameable, even though I try.
His palette defies replication, the tone and hue known only to Him.

His fragrance, the air itself, a sweet scent on the wind.
His incense is the pine forest,
the honeyed aroma of the wildflower.
His spice, the shaded glen.
In winter He speaks to me in the hushed tones of snow on pine.
The woods are tranquil and sleepy. I hear Him whisper...peace..rest.

Listen. do you hear?

All the earth and every creature that on it dwells,

Exalting Him in their own tongue.

The wind whispers His name. 

Holy. Holy. Holy is the Lord God Almighty.

Bees hum, birds sing His praises.

The high whinny of the horse announces His glory!

Holy! Holy is the Lord God almighty. 

Even the rocks cry out His name.

My spirit quickens within me to join the song.

The trees begin to bow and sway, applauding His presence.
He is here. He is here!
My heart lightens as I run to Him,
For tranquility and rest are in His bosom.
Safety and love are found neath the shelter of His wings,
My one true home is in His arms...

Here.  In the wild.

My Heart's Song

Awareness beckons.
Calling my mind to the surface,
towards consciousness,
away from dreams of the night.

Unwaveringly, my mind sets off on a road all it's own.
I travel a well worn route, walk it daily.
Down the miles and the years to where my children dwell.
But they are children no longer, these sons of mine.
Men now, years past mothering and the need for one.

Still it is a mother's heart that beats in my chest.
A drum pounding a song to my sons grown so far from me.
An anthem that could not be stopped if I desired it so.
The lullaby they listened to under my ribs
as they lay waiting to burst forth into the world.
My heart will sing this litany
till the last beat quiets in my chest.

A canticle so familiar and true,
strummed on my heartstrings
the moment I first beheld them.
When my heart swelled beyond reason,
so full of amazement and joy
that it must surely burst.

The lyrics never change.
They are the same, enduring.
Words of love and hope.
An acclamation brimming with motherly pride..
It is an ode full of joy and anticipation,
for who they are and who they will become.

It is a quiet hymn of thankfulness.
For I am blessed to know them,
to have held them in my arms.
It is a chant to the world
that I am holding them still.
In my heart. In my mind.
In my prayers.

My song is full and pouring over,
an aria that runs in an endless river
from my heart to theirs.
I am convinced this refrain will echo
down the years.
Long after I am gone from this place.

If they listen closely,
with their hearts open wide.
I believe.
They will catch the melody
of my heart's song,

Still drifting to them on the breeze...

Just an old chunk of wood

At first I see nothing beyond the familiar form.

The "me" I have become over the years.

The hardened block of who I am.

Recently though, life has come at me like an axe.
The first swing sliced cleanly through the branches of who I believe I am. It is now busy lopping away the bark covering the persona I have unknowingly created.

This slashing is painful to the extreme.
I wonder if can survive this much chiseling and gouging. It seems there may be nothing recognizable left.

I study my reflection.

It's still me that stares back, yet not me.

Hmm, something  new there, just behind the eyes.

Though still raw and rough hewn to behold,

it's evident.  A transformation is taking place.

An epiphany surfaces,
I am being sculpted.

A craftsman has eyed this timber it seems.
Considered it's natural shape and bend.
Determined the best means to free the heart within.
Artistic license is being taken.

This artist will shape me as he sees fit,
skillfully carving me into something useful.
My true grain is slowly beginning to show.

I am more than a little surprised.

The color is deeper and richer than I thought likely.
Much more real this "new" me.

I know this transformation is nowhere near complete.
So much more work to be done.
I can't imagine what the sanding process will entail.
When finished,  I cannot fathom who I will be,
or what I will look like.

Though still painful to endure,
I think I've found the key.

To abide this refinement,

I cannot not fight against my sculptor's hand.
I must yield to his touch. Trust the skill of his knife.
I will wait patiently..

and let the chips fall where they may..

Hello...hello? Is anybody here?

Creepy sounds echo down an empty hall..a key scraping in the lock, the turn of a rusty knob. A door creaking open on corroded hinges..  A violent, maniacal scream ringing out. (Mine. I am draped in cobwebs as I poke my head in the door.) I peer into murky darkness. The air is stale and lifeless.  My eyes adjust, a forlorn atmosphere of neglect permeates the space. Hello? Hello? Is..is anybody here?? 

This is where I used to live. The place I called home for a wonderful season of my life. I spent some of my most satisfying times here. It was a comfortable place, one where felt free to express my opinions and emotions, highs and lows, on a regular basis. I had thoughts profound (and not so much), and shared them with anyone that would listen.

 I started with such promise. I was just getting to know myself as a writer, just spreading my wings, finding my voice, memorizing the home keys... Then this happened and everything fell apart. I have not written one blog word since I burned out with that "novel".

I have gone so far as to purposely avoid other's blogs so I wouldn't feel the "pull". Then my friend Tori announced on Facebook that she had written a blog about Perennial Pete, dang it all! I have such a soft spot for that guy, I had to read it! Then of course, I wanted to comment on her post, but couldn't even remember my blogger name. I had to go to my account to look up my info, that's when I saw it. My blog. Sad and empty with the screen door hanging askew on it's hinges.. The whole thing slowly sinking into blog oblivion.
Such a waste..  No. Wait. I can't let it end like this, can I?  I LOVED my blog!  It was so important to me once, maybe it could be again. I should at least give it a try I think. Expressing myself through writing was good for my soul.

It will definitely take some elbow grease though. I now tend to write in a monotone, and I'm still having trouble forming sentences over six words long. But here I am, screwdriver in hand..the tool not the drink..ready to attempt a restoration on my little blog. Have patience and wish me luck! (and don't expect anything impressive for awhile, okay?)

Oh, by the way, Tori? Thanks.
Say hi to Pete for me. :)

Shh...I have to whisper..

I have to whisper...I can't let my captor know I am trying to contact the outside world on company time.  You read it right...I am at work.  Wait a minute, you say...you don't have a job do you? Aren't you retired?  YES, yes I am..or I was, it would seem. Now here I sit, trapped in this office.

Time is dragging by.  No, it's crawling. Actually, it doesn't seem to be moving at all..  I keep acccidently looking at the clock. It's like poking something dead with a stick. It's disgusting, but I can't stop myself.

How did this travesty happen you might ask? Well even if you didn't ask, I'm going to tell you. And since I don't know how to do one teeny, tiny little thing that would be even remotely helpful to anyone here at this office, I'm going to start at the beginning and give you the really, really long drawn out version.

Many years ago, in a land far, far away (Cooper Michigan) there was a happy mom with four VERY rambunctious little boys that took up all her time and energy..

Oh rats, here comes the boss.

They grew up. Her husband forced her out into the work world..

The End.

A "novel" endeavor..

No, no, no,no, nooo!!! Why, oh why?! I can't believe it! What was I thinking?? I'm doomed!
 
It all started last night. There I was minding my own business. Reading a blog, choosing another from the ones that commented, going to their blog, picking another from the commenter’s, going to their blog... I was so far into the deep recesses of Blogdom, I could NEVER have backtracked my way out.

Suddenly up pops a little message on my screen. I have a note from Tori.  Ah Tori,  a dear friend and fellow blogger, she has been most helpful in guiding me through the do's and don'ts of blogging. Well let's see what "The Tor-ster's" up to tonight:

Hi Pam,
I don't know if you've ever heard of this: http://www.nanowrimo.org/.  You write a novel in a month. It starts November 1 and ends on the 30th (duh) . I am seriously considering doing this. I'm wondering if you'd like to take this crazy journey with me.
Tori

Let's see what I said:
Gee Tori, I’ve never even considered writing a book, I've got no ideas. 50,00 words? Wow. That seems like a lot of time and effort to put into something that would be awful. (See? See my response right there? I am using my deductive reasoning skills. It doesn't happen often. It's my inner-self quietly telling me no. No Pam, don't.)

Tori: Most of what results is CRAP, but that's half the fun. They expect crap. I have no idea what I would write either. I think that's part of it, just letting go, concentrating on hitting the word count goal w/o worry about the content.

Me: Hmmm ...I don't know...the time commitment.. the fiction thing. I wouldn't even know what to write about... (See, here again, that inner voice of reason)

Tori: We could encourage, commiserate, celebrate, procrastinate with each other! We could set small rewards for goals met. We could celebrate huge if we succeed. It would involve carbs....lots and lots of carbs...and alcohol {and maybe strippers}

Me: drooling slightly..Carbs? Oh my. Dang it all, she KNOWS I'm in the carb-less hell of Phase 1 on the South Beach Diet! (This is when I start to hum  a little. My inner-voice is still talking but I can't quite make out what it's saying. )

Tori: Maybe something surprising would come out of it, ya know. Bragging rights that you wrote a novel is one! No pressure really... I could do it alone I guess...I'd still luv ya...

Oh no! Poor Tori, I can't let her be alone in this.  (My inner-voice is now screaming bloody murder, "She LIKES being alone! She WANTS to be alone! Let her do it .. ALL alone!!!)

Me humming loudly..Well,  I guess it might be fun...and if there's carbs involved and they really just expect drivel... then, ...Okay, I'm in.   (My inner voice is now crazily rattling around  in my mental cupboards looking for a VERY sharp knife with which to cut off my two typing fingers.....)

I am not really a writer, I am a yammerer (this probably isn't a word, but you get the idea). My mind flits around like a butterfly, never landing in one place for too long. I think that's why I enjoy blogging. An idea comes, I ruminate on it for awhile, spit it out into the blogosphere and viola! I'm done and it's gone, never needing to be thought about again.

But another thing about me..I'm faithful. Once I tell ya I'm there, I am (just usually 15 to 20 minutes late).

I told Tori I would do this, and so I will. I will write a REALLY crappy, confusing, jumbled novel in 30 days time. So here I go:   "It was a dark and stormy night..."

Sounds fun... doesn't it? :-/

Care to join us?