Saturday, November 28, 2009

New Direction



I love to write. Most of my writing is for this blog or essays or short stories. I've even written a novel, 50,000 words! Whew! Took me three months to get to the end. Now it sits tucked away while I tend to the other writings in my flock. After all, I can't give preference to one and ignore the others.

Two weekends ago my sis and I attended a writing morning at University of South Alabam, Mobile. Reason 1: another viewpoint from authors; Reason 2: one author was Carolyn Haines, who writes the Bones series of mystery books. She is writer-in-residence at the college. Alas, she spoke about novel writing, a course which I'd had plenty of instruction. What actually peaked my interest was the poetry author, a Sue Brannon Walker (Poet Laureat of Alabama), an exhuberant lady who made writing poetry sooo easy. We did one exercise I've seen on many blogs: the "Where I'm from..." That was answering a series of questions about one's self and writing it in sentence form. She eliminated the sentences,used phrases and clauses. She reminded us how quickly we can write prose and drop lines and eliminate a lot of punctuation and voila! a poem is born. And sure enough it seems easy.

Sunday morning after returning I awoke with a poem in my head. Unfortunately, it wasn't anything we had been introduced to. A limrick. How that got caught in my brain I'll never know. Read on. . .

There once was a horse named Katrina
Who loved prancing in the arena,
But when a lady got on
with nothing but a thong
Katrina behaved like a hyena!

Isn't that disgraceful after an earlier morning of good poetry writing?
Time now to write a more graceful one. Next, writing a poem with only two words per line:

POWER OF SWEETS
I look
At you
And wonder
If I
Can afford
The pounds
I'll earn
From you
Chocolate, Vanilla
Strawberry, Nuts
Oh, gosh
Those bars
Are much
Too much
I know
It's hopeless
To feed
My tummy
I have
To leave
And find
My mommy.

Ok, I gotcha. Improvement. I will have to study Mrs. Walker's students' poetry. Let's see...what page do I want to start with?

Sunday, November 01, 2009

For Ladies Who Hate Carrying Handbags

Carrying a handbag means to me carrying the proverbial "kitchen sink," so I try not to take anything more than a few dollars, one credit card, and keys tucked in my pockets, unless I am to be gone for a length of time and need the hundred of items I stash in a purse.

A few weeks ago I should have taken my handbag. Needing to be at doctor's office for an epidural, I had insisted that R not accompany me since he wasn't feeling well. Meaning to be a help, he accompanied me. After an hour's wait R began having difficulty breathing. I told him to go to the car, wait for me to get cleared about my leaving the office for a few minutes to pick up my cellphone I left behind. R was going on to his own doctor for a check up. I informed the clerk, who said I had to wait and clear with the nurse, who then said she had to clear with the doctor--was I up next after an hour of waiting?? I ran out to the car anyway, to discover R had left me--almost naked. Despair filled my body. I had no purse (why, with hubby along?) and my cell phone had gone with him. A Hummer sat in our parking space. I returned to the office and told the clerk I was back but would have to cancel. She insisted I had to wait for the nurse to whom I explained I had to call my sister to come pick me up. Nurse said she had to consult the doctor.

After 10 minutes I told the clerk I was leaving, she said for me to wait for the nurse and before I could sit down the nurse came in and said I had to have someone in the office NOW. I explained my situation, asked if I could take the injection without a sedative to avoid waiting for my sister to come, she said wait, she'd talk to the doctor. While sitting there I tried to figure out my next move to get to hubby's doctor. Nurse returned saying doctor wouldn't okay my being there alone and would prefer that I take the sedative. Meaning I needed someone present in the waiting room throughout the procedure. I then said I would
cancel, the nurse said to wait until she consulted the doctor. Another five minutes passed and she finally came out and said doctor thought I should not take injection but take care of husband. Then I realized I knew only one phone number and that friend was out of town. I didn't know my sister's cell phone number, nor any other person's cell number. Most friends were not in town. Not living in a city with public transportation, I couldn't think of a way to get to hubby's doctor's office unless I walked the 10 miles...until I thought of a taxi.

In the meantime, R found my cell phone and had a clerk figure out how to use it to call my sister to come. He told her I was at one place when I was at another (did someone say men can't remember important info?). She looked for an hour at a hospital trying to find my doctor, whose name was R's doctor (he was too sick to understand her questioning). I called R's doctor to ask the clerk to get $5 from R for my taxi (I hadn't ridden in a local taxi in 30 years)that I was coming to where R was and not to leave me.

The taxi cost $ll.80, thankfully, R had no change other than twenties. We made contact and my sister and I laughed at the turmoil that happened on that Monday. I learned a valuable lesson: If I don't carry a handbag, for heaven's sake, CARRY THE CELLPHONE!!!