Rainy Days and Mondays and all that, but Karen, honey, we need a different song.
Truth is, while I’m writing this, the weather report for the week says that it’s supposed to be sunny Monday through Thursday. You know, when I have all of that free time to catch up on yard work that I didn’t get done in the fall. Because, as you recall, I was either working or it was…. wait for it…raining.
A friend on Facebook posted the other day that we’ll all be missing the rain when we have a drought this summer. In the first place, I don’t recall a drought last summer. In the second place, I’m pretty sure that the
water table is high enough that we’re not going to be experiencing drought conditions anytime soon.
On Saturday morning as I write this, I have surrendered. I’m just going to claim that my yard is now a water feature.
I was trying to look at my March and April calendar to see if there’s a week I could take off to get caught up in the yard.
It’s more likely that I’ll win Publishers’ Clearinghouse (and they didn’t show up at my house last Thursday) than it is that I’ll accurately predict a week when it’s going to be dry enough.
I refuse to worry about it anymore.
Sure, I want my yard to look better, but I can’t fight the elements.
If that bothers you, you’re welcome to come fight them for me.
Here’s the thing. Or one of the things, maybe two.
I’m still sorting out how to make this writing thing work. I’ve been distracted with theater stuff and other stuff and haven’t been doing the writing I know I should have been. So, I’ve gone back to my thousand words a day project. Each day, I’m writing at least a thousand words. They may be crap, they may just be bitching about the day, or the weather, but they’re there. As I have seen in the past, this effort primes the writing pump, so to speak. Simply meaning that, the more I write, the more I want to write.
That’s my plan. And to work that plan, the iPad goes back into the messenger bag for those “down times” when I’m on my way to a meeting or rehearsal. Truth is, if I had a laptop, I could also use those times for graphic work. Feel free to hit the tip jar on your way out.
Adding to all of that, while I can currently only tell you about one of them, counting the project I’m currently working on*, I have my next seven theatre/performance/directing gigs lined up. No, seriously.
Up until last week, most of those were possibilities. Now they’re definite. On top of that, within the last few weeks I was also contacted about three other shows that I had to turn down.
Long term readers will recall that, in times past, I’ve worried that I wouldn’t have any new opportunities.
All this to say that, I think this is confirmation that I’m now on the right track. The retirement date is selected, when you (and my employer) need to know, you will. I’m building the writing work, and the theater work.
And last week, I even had someone ask if I was selling a painting. I didn’t know how to respond because I didn’t think I was there yet. We’ve worked out a barter. She gets the painting. I get some of my canvas supply restocked.
I was fifty when I finally decided to stop saying “I want to be a writer” and instead said “I am a writer.” Maybe it took me another ten years to sort all of that out within the context of theater and art.
It doesn’t matter that I’m sixty. I read an article this week about a woman who picked up a paint brush at age 65 and started painting. She just turned 100 and her work is on display/for sale on the Outer Banks.
I figure I’m five years ahead of her.
I may not make it to a hundred. But, as long as I can, I’ll be creating the things, making the art, doing the work.
Y’all excuse me. I have to go take my Geritol.
And now for that different song from Karen.