Archives for August 2013

Hands In The Dirt

hands in the dirtGentle readers, I promise you that I tried to plod through the drama of the past two weeks.  I did.  I DID!  But then…I got swept up in the whirlwind and found myself trapped under my house and my ruby slippers were stolen by this chick carrying a dog in a picnic basket…

Okay.  Maybe not.

Anyway, I lost my footing and slid down the hill into chaos and knew not how to find my way out of the mire.  Then, this Sunday, I thought to myself….”go weed.”  So I did.  When I came back inside, I felt more grounded (heh, grounded.  Get it?) and able to concentrate.


Computer ReadingBaby, I might not have a lot, but I’ve got me one good imagination.

For the most part, this stands me in good stead.  Imagination lets me inhabit the heads of different people in different places when I write, but there’s more to it than that.  Imagination is what lets you see beyond what’s there in front of you to what it could be.  It’s what let me look at a piece of jewelry and realize the clasp would make a perfect deadbolt for the door in my miniature room.   It lets me look at my mother’s garage and envision it as a studio apartment (although, thank God, that probably won’t have to happen).  It lets me look around my house and see it as it could be – see the Palatial Horvath Estate spread out before me.

Plodding Through A Perfect Storm

Auntie Em!We all go through periods in our lives that seem to be a perfect storm – a time when everything collides in mass of pure nastiness.

Just for an example…let’s say your muggle job is somewhat demanding, you have family responsibilities for your elderly mother, and you have some health and money issues.   Sure, there’s drama.  Lots of drama at work, drama on the homefront (especially when your mother’s cable box dies)…drama, drama everywhere.  But you’re doing okay…you’re handling it.

And Then…

My Affair With Scrivener

womanhuggingcomputer*Note – this post should be read using a throaty internal voice. Think Delilah. Or Jessica Rabbit.*

Hi, there. I have a confession to make. It’s about Scrivener, the software program for writers. Are you ready?

We’re having an affair.

And it’s serious.

It started about nine months ago. It wasn’t anything special at first, but it’s funny how quickly you can get in over your head. Microsoft Word and I were having issues, I was floundering, and Scrivener was just…there. Ready. Willing. It looked like it would be so good for me, and I, well, tried it. I know it’s too soon, but I…I think…I’m in love.

Run Away

RVWhen my mind wanders, I often dream of Winnebagos. I dream of big luxury buses. I dream of Airstreams. I dream of the Partridge Family bus. I ask for brochures for different RV’s, and I save them in my file cabinet. I follow tiny house blogs and admire the ones on trailers.

This is not a new phenomenon. In fact, I distinctly remember how, as a pre-teen, I would get the Sears catalog (back when it was as big as a phone book) and spend hours tricking out the conversion van I would buy when I got older.   And even though I got a Chevy Nova for my first car instead of a van, I’ve always been drawn to the thought of wandering around like some sort of a big, self-sufficient turtle with my house upon my back.

Blogging Is Sooooo Yesterday

hello, blogosphereBlogosphere, I have a bone to pick with you.

Why the heck would you want to pick bones? I don’t have any bones. All of my skeletons are in the closet.

I mean, I’m feeling annoyed with you.

Oh. *shrug* Okay. Why take it out on me? Just go flame someone on Facebook or Twitter.

See? That’s what I mean. Facebook. Twitter. Not blogs. You never told me blogs were obsolete.

Obsolete? What are you talking about?

You’re not hip. You’re not with it.

I am so hip, gosh darn it!