Tag: Writing

Folding

I don’t know what I am doing. You’ll say that’s not true, or I’m “taking a break,” but yesterday I practiced my print handwriting. I practiced it all day. I made tea. Got out a notebook and practiced my letters. Height, spacing, different pens, you name the variation, and I was working it. This may…

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Wringing

There’s no sense in lying. I fell in strong like with this picture, and since I have to write a blog post today, I went with something that makes me smile. No. I do not know the adorable tatted man or his puppy dog. I simply needed inspiration, and there they were on iStock. Today…

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Peekaboo Blouse

There are times when writing is the only thing that makes sense. I’m not talking about the bullshit on Instagram about writing because “I have to.” No one has to do anything except for the taxes and death bit. Writers can be an obnoxious and overdramatic lot. I once typed somewhere that writing is “like…

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Pack

  I turned ten years old on July 3rd. Well, not really. I started my blog ten years ago. I don’t like numbers. Their restrictions go past high school algebra into the mindset of our culture. Numbers can make us feel falsely badass or tragically small. I guess that alone explains why July 3rd came…

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Extra Rinse

The Elements of Style commands, “Omit needless words.” I struggle with this every day. Ron is the master. I’m not sure I have ever reblogged before but I could not pass this one up. It’s perfect in sentiment and craft. Enjoy. Write what you know, they say so he writes the first draft of the…

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Front Loader

I always sat in the front of the room. The front was the power position. Where the talented people sat. New school year, impossible project, new job anywhere, I boldly walked to the front. Convinced the world needed me and that I needed recognition. My notes were works of art, everything dotted and crossed. If someone…

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Fluff and Fold

  A penny for your thoughts. My Uncle Jerry used to say that when I was a child, usually accompanied by a pinch on the cheek. He was a character that I didn’t appreciate as much as I would now if he were still in my life. Penny for your thoughts is an odd, older generation…

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Tangled

I need to manage my mind. It’s a bit like Grand Central Station up there these days and since I can’t keep things quiet, I tried gathering. Last week, I herded thoughts into similar groups and then willed them to line up single file. I figured if I could get all of it to hold…

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Change of Clothing

I wonder if I’ll ever run out of things to say. If the time will come when I will wake up, pour a cup of tea, and just like when my fingers strain for the last few tiles in a Scrabble bag, I’ll start running out and eventually I’ll be done. Maybe a person is…

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