A Week of Cold, A Day of Pure Warmth

You all know that putting away seasonal clothing isn't today's method. With the weather playing hop-scotch across the map, we need a closet for warm clothing and a closet for heavy outerwear. No longer in the South can we expect our winters to be mild. We had our worst winter this year in a decade, yet by eastern standards it was a breeze. Today, Saturday the sun is shining and the air is a warm 78 degrees. Tomorrow is expected to be cold again with the usual thunderstorms and tornadoes we have around March and April. Nothing new, is it?

Regardless of the weather, warm or cold, I am tied to the computer. After spending $$$ for a desk-type, I now long for a laptop so I can sit outdoors and pen the words rushing though my head. It has been said that writers are loners. Like jugglers, we attempt to balance family life with our desire to pound on the keyboard, hating to leave our seat to satisfy a son or daughter who wants us to join the rest of the family for dinner. Then we become robots in conversation, while  holding a thought, a scene, an idea inside, and anxious to skip after-dinner coffee and dessert for a quick trip home. Or when I have to stop to hear my husband expound on  what he's read, I give the impression that I'm  not interested. Not so. With so little time in my life left to do what I've always wanted to accomplish, I feel rushed to write everything that comes to mind.

New words, new ideas flow like a thawing faucet and the fingers go into action. I'm not a many-published writer, but I write because I have stories to tell, created from my romantic instinct that runs constantly across my brain, becoming real in my whispered enactments -- someone would say I'm losing my mind. The openings of stories are just that -- openings. They sit in my Document file under "Unfinished Writings." Occasionally I pull up one and reread what has been typed, then add a few paragraphs. Are they worthwhile to keep? Maybe so,  maybe  not. But seeing the words flow across the screen gives me a personal satisfaction, like the feeling you receive from that first cup of coffee.  One day some of the ideas will jell into one good story.

When I reach the point of being screen-weary, I stop, turn to genealogy or fulfill a jewelry order. By the time I return to the computer, I'm fresh with new ideas, born during family research and the fulfillment of  creating something spiritual for an unknown customer. But I return to my stories and I'm happy, whether it is raining or sunny outdoors.

Something New

Remember when your family moved to a newer house containing two bathrooms instead of the usual one? Remember the rising glee as each of you ran to one bathroom, then the other, admiring all the new fixtures, and realizing how each of you can shower or take a tub bath with more privacy? If you’ve had that experience, you'll understand about yesterday.

That same penetrating excitement washed over me when a member of the Geek squad hooked up my husband’s computer Tuesday afternoon. Now we each have our own. This isn’t a story found in most households. Nothing new about families owning several computers. For us it's different. R hasn't cared to use the computer until recently A rising apprehension began welling inside me in December as R learned on the desktop this black key moves the screen that way, this other key at the top does that, and then with two fingers and a bit of magic the printer turns on spitting out a wealth of information.


Now R is the proud owner of a netbook, a waif-like machine that shrinks even more in a large man’s hand. The screen is approximately 10” wide and closed, the machine fits into an 8 ½” x 11” envelope weighting three pounds. R behaves as if he’s bought a brand-new Bentley.

And I’m relieved that I can plop down in front of my desktop any time of the day to empty my head of ideas that rush into a short story or that still-to-be-published manuscript that keeps me forever young.