My mom and I spent the weekend in New York City together for Mother’s Day. Rain spewed down from the sky the entire car ride, aside from when we were in the Lincoln Tunnel. By the time we checked into our hotel it was pouring. That evening, clad with our umbrellas, we ventured out for dinner and a show. After the show we wandered through Times Square. Every time I go to New York City there is something different in the air. A different feel. A different time of year. A different purpose. A different objective. A different person(s). A different weather forecast, as was such with the rain.
Nothing motivates you to write a blog post quite like the receipt of an automatic renewal charge on your credit card to remind you that you are actually paying for your domain name and extra storage space on your blog for posting words, pictures, videos, and songs.
For this reason, and more importantly for my love of writing and creating, today I offer you simple words, a picture, a video, and a song to reward you for the time you spent with me.
The end of the year is near. That means it is time to resolute.
One of my 2017 resolutions is to stay off Facebook for the whole year. Come January 1, I am deactivating my account. I want to determine if Facebook enriches my life or robs me of opportunities to have deeper connections with those closest to me. Over the last month-and-a-half I have hardly gone on Facebook because I felt like I could not ‘keep up’ (especially over the holidays) and that trying to ‘keep up’ was stressful and poor use of my time.
A few readers (all two of you) recently asked me why I haven’t been writing on my blog. As Christmas approaches and 2016 winds down, I thought I’d take a minute to give a brief update on what’s-a-happen’ in my writerly life.
First off, lack of voice on my blog does not mean I haven’t been writing. Quite the contrary. I joined two writing groups in State College, and in November I went to a monthly meeting as part of another group. Exciting and flourishing times for my pen. I am concentrating primarily on writing creative nonfiction in the first-person. True stories are what bring us together, offer hope, and help us understand each other.
The refrigerator was empty.
Before that there was options for meals in the cabinets and freezer.
Before that there was also bread, deli meat, cheese, and the promise of a sandwich.
Before that there was also a tomato to slice.
Before that there was also apples and carrots sticks for the kids to snack on.
Before that there was also a carton of milk and eggs to cook with.
Before that there was also lettuce, cucumber, and a yellow pepper to make a salad.
Before that there was also pepperoni and a package of mozzarella cheese to make a pizza.
Before that there was also a pound of ground beef and whole wheat tortillas to make burritos.
Before that there was also blueberries and strawberries to eat on cereal.
Before that there was also V-8 and orange juice to drink.
Before that there was also yogurt to pack for lunch.
Before that there was also bagels and pita bread.
Before that there was also a pork tenderloin to cook for the family.
Before that there was kitchen filled with possibilities.
Before that He asked her when She was going to the store.
I tried to go to the library to write this morning, but dammit it doesn’t open until noon on Thursday’s. I should know this because, in the past, I’ve tried to go twice on Thursday mornings with my kids and ran into the same dumb luck.
So instead of getting free library parking downtown I parked in a public lot, which is probably more honest anyway. I was going to sneak out of the library, against policy, to get a bite to eat, move my body, and pick up a new game for my kids at the local toy story. I have a 20% off coupon. The item I want to buy costs $14.99. Saving $3 makes me happy. Plus it’ll pay for the $3 I had to pay to park downtown this morning. Ahhh life, it always seems to have a way of working itself out if you give it enough time.
I took my son to swimming lessons this morning. He did well enough. He still won’t go underwater willingly, but he is bobbing, jumping into the shallow end, and even acting jovial in the water with the others kids, unlike the first day. My daughter and I sat together as we have for the past week and a half. Today she snuggled into my lap for most of the time. The day was going swimmingly well, but it was early.
When my son’s lesson was over we hopped into the car and ate lunch on the way to a theater downtown to see a movie sponsored by the local library. Our spirits were high as we settled into our chairs and sat back to watch the show. At one point I found my daughter snuggled into my lap, for the second time that day, during a scary part. I held her close and put my arm around my son. He snuggled across the arm rest into my chest. All I could think about during the happy and turbulent parts of the movie was how much I love my kids. The day was going swimmingly well.