Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Tomorrow is another day

I had a hideous night’s sleep last night. I was awake until around 2.30. The youngest called out so I took him to the bathroom and then came back to bed and finally fell asleep at around 4 or 5. So that was no fun.

 I then made the mistake of reading what I’ve written so far and then that witch of a woman came into my room and laughed at me and made me feel stupid and threw my intestines into a blender. I tried very hard to push her out and lock my door. She’s pushing very hard on the door and I’m trying to push the door closed. She’s got her foot in the jam and I’ve got the heel of my hand pressing into her face, the monster. Miraculously I manage 268 words before she throws the door open, laughs in my face with her hot, ugly breath, defeating me.

 So, I’ll try again tomorrow.

Read Full Post »

Inadvertant poetry

The children are back in school!

 I wrote my 500 words (629) this morning, before I got sucked into the day’s wash cycle and it’s a big improvement on the after-hours writing. Got everyone out safely, made my cup of coffee, picked up the ringing phone to find Batman. We quickly exchanged this important info: She to me: Your Word Is Your Wand, me to her: order ‘Your Three Year Old’ on Amazon. We exclaimed our love and hung up. I then sat down at the computer and pounded out my tale. I even laughed out loud at something I was writing. That was fun. So, then I was free to eat lunch, run to the grocery store, hang out the wash, work on the taxes (I had to file for an extension), put a second load in, provide after school snacks and homework assistance, make dinner, hang out more laundry, do the football run, put the kids to bed, debrief my husband, write this, make this crazy drawing and take care of all the things that came up that I hadn’t predicted. A hive of industry!

 I know I said I wouldn’t work on weekends but I managed a cool 500 before we caught the train to the coast, so I’m feeling on top of it. I’ve banked some work. If I get depressed (inevitable), I can stay under the covers for an entire day and still have my word count.

 We had a great time at the beach. Nicoletta made homemade pasta and we hung it to dry on a broom handle. The children looked upon this with silent wonder. This reminded me so much of this information that’s been rattling around in my head for years. Back in the old days in New York, the fish mongers would jack up the price on Fridays because they knew that all the Catholics would be eating fish on that day. So the savvy, thrifty women would buy their fish live, on a Wednesday, and keep it in the bathtub. I like thinking about all the young children, living with fish swimming around it their tubs. Some of them must have loved it, perching themselves by the side, watching, watching. Some of them must have been scared to go in the bathroom, some of them probably pondered the fish’s fate and thought long deep thoughts about killing and eating other living things. When us grown ups ‘make do’ we are inadvertently making a little crack in the daily routine and children’s imaginations get triggered. Not only do we save money but we increase the chances that our kids might grow up to be poets (who will of course need to rely on all the money-saving tricks they’ve learned from us)!

 Got to go to sleep now since I’ve got to wake up early…I failed this morning so I’m going to try again.

Read Full Post »


   It’s been fascinating for me to have made this large proclamation within this blog medium (it is after all just another medium, like oil paint or spray paint or a fine pair of shears…thinking here about my talented hairdresser). Because I make large proclamations all the time. “I’m going to learn to play the accordion!” “I will never buy cheap plastic crap again!” “When I wake up tomorrow I’m going to be a calm, patient, loving mother!” But making a proclamation and analysing myself follow through on it is a new one for me. It’s like I’m doing the idea and learning about what an idea is at the same time.

    Here’s what I figured out about ideas today in the bathroom. I think they are born, like babies. Naked, screaming, covered in primordial slime. And there they are, in your face, what can you do? They are 100% pure, unadulterated potential (well, they have their fate stuffed in there too). Once they are out in the oxygen, they immediately start to get shaped. I had this image in my head of a naked baby’s skin being shaped by its first onesie. Contained.  Everything we do for that idea/baby the second after it is born is shaping, defining, helping, steering, coaxing, loving. For this idea/baby to reach its potential, it has to fit into at least some of what is going on around it otherwise it will fail to make it. And job of the parent/idea-ist is to constantly gauge and change the setting to create an environment which will give its baby/idea the best possible chance of becoming the thing it’s meant to be.  

    So I’ve come up some ground rules. Not mandatory to work on weekends. If it’s bursting to be written and it works within that day’s family chemistry, that’s fine. Not going to write at night. This does not count working into the night, which can be a gorgeous thing. I am going to have to wake up earlier. Since I cannot possibly fit more into my already crammed day, I’ll have to add more hours to the day.

Off to the beach with the family. Later.

Read Full Post »

the hard wear of love

   I started this project behind the eight ball. Who decides to do something in addition to all the other stuff they are doing the night before the kids have a school holiday? Well, as my mother always said, ‘the die is cast’ but of course she said it in Latin.

    Yesterday, apart from the noodle business, was not a great day for me. I failed at every thing I did. And I got very stressed out by my failures. I should have thrown up my hands and taken the boys to the movies and just called it a day. But I didn’t. I kept trying to fit the square peg into the round hole and by the time Bob got home from work, I was a mess. I served some horrible pork thing for dinner that looked like prison food and complained about the Republican Party without adding any humour. If Bob wanted to, he would have had every right to smile at me pleasantly and turn in. But he didn’t. After a long day at work himself, he sat at the computer for a couple of hours and fixed the horrible situation I had created by trying to do something I didn’t know how to do. It was the digital equivalent of de-tangling a wire slinky. And he very calmly suggested that I write my five hundred words first thing in the morning instead of at bedtime. So yesterday was not a total loss. I got to be in the care of my husband. (I did write my 500 words (513) after he went to bed and they were absolute drivel.)

    So today I started the new program and wrote first thing in the morning. The boys were fresh and did their own thing and didn’t really notice that I was working so that was nice. What I wrote was marginally better than yesterday’s instalment so I’m happy with that. It was an extremely busy day but I didn’t lose so much stomach lining. I will, over time, get my rhythm. And the boys will, eventually, go back to school. And it’s Friday night so I bought Bob a very nice bottle of wine. He deserved it.

Read Full Post »

Navel gazing


   I’ve had a blog for 22 hours (and 7.5 of them I slept through) and I don’t think I’m going to be able to take the pressure. I think writing the memoir will be a cake walk in comparison to this thing. I awoke this morning to horrible, dream like thoughts of self doubt and embarrassment. What have I done!? I don’t even know what ‘Blog’ means. Is it an acronym? Better Leave Our Guts? How much do I write? What about my day is worth recording? I heard a piece on This American Life years ago about the phenomenon of ‘scrapbooking.’ One woman was so engulfed by her own project that she ended up quitting her job so she could work on the scrapbook full time. I think about her a lot. Well, I think about what her scrapbook must look like, now that she does nothing else. “Here’s a picture of me at the craft store, buying more paper!” It’s the forever-gazing-inward that sparks my imagination, the descent into madness that surely follows such constant self analysis. “Here’s a self portrait I made out of noodles today in the dayroom with Orderly Bill!”

   Enough of that. Yesterday, I managed my first 500 words. I started at 11.25 pm and finished at 12.45 this morning. I won’t bore you with the details of the domestic nonsense that went on around here, making it impossible to start any earlier. But I did it and I have to say, I think I only did it because I told you that I would. So far, this thing is working. I pounded it out. My dear friend Beatrice (the novelist) Colin, told me not to worry if what I wrote was any good. I can figure all that out later. The name of the game here is to get all your ingredients out on the counter, then you cook.

    Today will be a challenge. The boys are out on another school holiday and we are all in each other’s hair. I may try just closing my door discreetly and hope for the best.

     Thank you all for the outpouring of love and support that you showered on me yesterday. It was a real treat.


Read Full Post »

Today is the day

I’m going to start my memoir today. This is a big statement, as the children are due home in 35 minutes and I’m over at Carmen’s. But still….I’m going to do it.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts

%d bloggers like this: