I forgot…

Poetry (Photo credit: Kimli)

Such a simple excuse reason, and it happened so easily, so quickly, so sneakily, that it almost went undetected. Until I realized upon a slightly closer examination of my inner/outer attitude and my focus that I had completely LOST IT! I mean I stopped keeping track, I stopped counting and naming and writing down the things that I am thankful for. And guess what happened then, I FORGOT TO BE THANKFUL.

My life is often plagued with forgetfulness. What appears as a life changing idea one week becomes a vague recollection the next. I’m full of good intentions, full of them. And I am such a good starter and such a bad finisher. How about you?

So, after taking a week out for Centrum Port Townsend Writers Conference, and having limited my writing to poetry and to editing poetry and to learning about writing better poetry, my “one thousand gifts” list became a must-do -later-but-can’t-do-right-now kind of thing until I got home. Home again, I post once full of the fullness of my experience and gratitude for all of it and then… yesterday… I realized I’d stopped altogether. One week after being back home with my beloved ones and not one addition to the list of gifts. NOT ONE!

I’m telling you this because I want to be entirely up front with who I am and what I am capable of. And not capable of.

Anyway, I’m going to start again. Or should I say, re-start.

295. a memory that works often but not always

296. a new idea that is still a good idea

297. family around the dinner table

298. friends who drop off cookies to my kids when I am away

299. friends who drop of banana bread to my kids when I am away

300. a husband that supports my creative growth as a writer

301. brown dog swimming in the pool

302. decorating plans with my best girl

303. friends on the porch, wine in the glass

304. watching my girl treat my boy to a clean truck

305. pentunia party of colour

306. huddled under the porch in pouring rain

307. a novel based on facts I know nothing about until now

308. worship hands up voice open heart wide

309. reading a magazine in the shade

310. the grace to re-start

Dragging my feet, lifting up my eyes, sometimes in a fog,

Lesley-Anne

Port Townsend’s downtown waterfront in the fog (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mid-week random ramble 006

Image via Wikipedia

1. The family is together again, all 5 of us,… feels good. Now we have extended family with us… feels good too. A great opportunity for Grandparents and Grandchildren to bond for a few days before school starts.

2. My son’s wallet and backpack were stolen after he inadvertently left them on the ground in a small park near our house. He lost all of his money that he made blackberry picking this summer. He’s taking it pretty hard. I’m trying to not have judgement thoughts toward the individual who did this, and it’s not going very well. I’m hoping that I’ll be driving along some day and I’ll spot someone wearing Malcolm’s backpack. Then I’ll leap out of my vehicle and… what? Precisely… don’t think it would go well for anyone involved.

3. Went shopping with my hubby today, looking at various ideas for our upcoming bathroom project in the basement. Met him in my car at a plumbing store, then continued shopping with him until we arrived home a couple of hours later. Problem being that my car was still parked in front of the first store!

4. What is it about skin that is such a touchy subject? Words like rash and fungus and condition make me feel ashamed. Why not feel ashamed when I have a hangnail or a stomach ache? What is it about my skin that makes me feel so uncomfortable? I brought home a skin condition from Cancun Mexico when I worked there at an animal sterilization clinic last April. Prescriptions make it better for a little while, and then it comes back again. Makes me want to hide. Bob says, “Get over it!” In a loving kind of way, of course. I wish I could. Could it be… ringworm eczema? Could it be … contagious? Will I have to wear gloves? Why won’t that prescription cream work? And, why on earth am I telling you about it?

5. A theological question that I’m pondering… is this scripture in the gospel of John, chapter 1, verse ? that says, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God…” And I’m wondering why is the word ‘Word’ used here in the text? The Bible doesn’t say, “In the beginning was a spiritual being, or a force, or a thought or anything else… but ‘Word’… and then I’m thinking about how God spoke the world into existence, by his word… and how words are so important to God, his word, The Bible, being what we stand upon as truth and what directs our lives as Christians. And so I’m thinking about this and how words are also so important to us as humans, the source of much conflict but the source of much blessing/encouragement as well. And how writing words is such an incredible process for me personally, how it somehow fulfills me and to create with words is in me and who I am and who I was meant to be. How the creator and creativity and the creation are interlinked. And all this in a 24 hour period… any thoughts?

6. So, I’m sitting at the computer… just sat down and wrote #4, 5 and started 6, when the following conversation takes place from one side of the house to where I am…”Where’s the putty, Mom?” “It’s in the bag from General Paint, in the laundry room.” “It’s not here.” “Well, it should be there… I bought some and the man put it into the bag.” “Well, there’s a brush and 2 drop sheets and some paint chips and a big can of paint and a stir stick but no putty.” “Well then, I guess the man didn’t put it into the bag.” “I’M WRITING… CAN”T YOU SEE I’M TAKING A SHORT BREAK AFTER MAKING SUPPER AND CLEANING UP.” Brief interlude while Claire goes downstairs to ask Malcolm if he’s seen the putty. She comes back upstairs. “Oh, Malcolm says he has it in his room” “Oh, Good!” and I keep on typing and trying to focus on something other than family dynamics and lost items for another 5 minutes. Hang on, now why do you think Claire needs putty?????????

7. Time to take the dog for a run or she’ll never settle down for the evening. Did I say 5 minutes… well, maybe 2.

Peace, out!!!

LAE