Let me tell you how much a writer will avoid writing. We don't know why. We love writing. It's what we were born to do and I say that in such a way as most of us are not good at some other things. Sure, there are other writers who can build an engine or knit a sweater but safe to say I can not knit or build an engine. I can paint. But that's not something I should take up professionally no matter how many times Mama says she thinks I could get hired to do this and maybe make a little money.
This morning I am finally updating this blog which has been in hyperspace hold all because I was moving my website to another host engine which meant building another site and migrating all the material over there. That hasn't happened. And everytime I thought of blogging I thought of that job and how I had not done it so what was the point in blogging something that needed to be moved somewhere else anyway? This is what my friend Rachel calls my Gypsy Logic and no offense ever intended for any Roma readers or travelers. Gypsy is a nickname for me and something I wear proudly. So there I go.
WRITING AVOIDANCE AND BIG SPIDERS
Today - I was avoiding writing by spraying for spiders. Big spiders. Outside. Of course I have the big professional spray with the handheld pump to make you feel more official when you decide I will just do this job myself. After my unclose and personal run in with a brown recluse biting me in MY BED at five am last summer I am not open to spiders taking up residence. That instance for those of you who dabble in spiritual mysteries seemed to be an attack straight out of the pits of hell and should be a level of Dante's inferno which I am reading now. The brown recluse level. The spider bit me at 5 am. in the inside of my arm where one is given a blood transfusion so it went directly into the place it needed to to cause the biggest damage. Thankfully, because I immediately woke up with a sense (and maybe this is why people call me a mystic) that I had been attacked by something evil in the way of what I suspected to be a brown recluse I pulled back the covers and there the bugger was trying to make a fast escape so I grabbed the closest thing to me - a sock and gently detained him and then grabbed another close item which was Michael Ferris Smiths match box for The Fighter - so appropriate - and stuck spider in box. With my arm stinging and red and growing in pain I got dressed, called the doctors office and said I'll be coming in for a brown recluse bite. Then I finished a conference call about a writing project (cause that's the kind of girl I am) and went to doc. When They asked me (what makes you think it was a brown recluse?) I pulled out the match box and passed it over. (this is repeat news to some but new news to others) and they put the little snarfblower under the microscope and said - Well, yes. It is a brown recluse and we are impressed with your spider roping rodeo skills. I'm just that kind of cowgirl I told them.
CREEPY BIG BAD BITES THAT PEOPLE SHOULD NOT SEE
Fast forward to a creepy arm (the people who saw it or saw photos said I really should not have showed that to them thank you very much) a book tour back in the old days when we did those and three months of ever stronger antibiotics and constant - and I mean contstant- ice bags to try to freeze the pain.
TRYING TO WOMAN UP TO THE HOUSE PROJECTS AND WORRIED I GOT BAD BONES
All to say - this morning I was avoiding writing by spraying for spiders because I figured I had to woman up and do it because these are some of the things I have to talk to God about. God, I have spiders and maybe some snakes in that tall grass that needs cutting and I need some steel wool put in the cracks under the house to keep the mice from getting in when winter gets here. God is pretty good about staying calm and reminding you that you can't do it all and thankfully did not seem to inspire me to buy steel wool and crawl up under the nasty crawl space under the entire house. Thank you, Jesus (that's a southern joke) - So buying the serious spider spray seemed the easy go to on the list although I stood and looked a long time at weed eaters and border things and chain saws which seemed the best idea - to just chain saw down the stuff but I have a fear of cutting off my fingers which I use a lot. For writing.
But my conundrum of should I spray the piles of leaves with spider spray before I blow the leaves or blow the leaves and then spray was just enough to send me over the edge, to throw it all down, make another cup of coffee and decide to blog. This is how you find me here. still day dreaming that the property brothers (or someone like the property brothers) will show up by surprise because I have won some sweepstakes I didn't enter about fixing my precious house on the hill and they will sweep in and tell me how great it is and will be and we will put in a bay window here and big windows there an take the living room out to the porch and build a huge screened in porch of the new living room and have stone steps down to the barbecue area and so on and I'll get my perfect claw foot dream of my life tub and a stained glass window somewhere anythwere and a basement (not a crawl space) which is not filled with spiders and mice to hide in during tornadoes. They will say things like good bones and I can envision - but what I just know they are going to do is say you have NO BONES. This house has NO BONES. I don't even know how it is standing. My God woman how long have you been here? Sigh. My idea of remodeling on a budget is to plant both kudzu and bamboo all around the walls of the house outside up close because you can never tear down bamboo or kudzu. You may not be able to see us but by God we will have a roof over our heads that might even stand up during a tornado.
HAPPY SPIDERS ON ALL SIDES
So the spiders are still humming spider songs outside happily spinning along not realizing death awaits them and she wears really worn out tractor supply cowgirl boots and is fixin to kick some spider weaving butt. In the meantime and other news.
WHY I DON'T COOK - BUT I DO - BUT I DON'T LIKE IT
Mama takes great pride in telling me that they have discovered you can get ebola from bagged salad because I like the convience of anything that has to do with the kitchen because kitchen things can eat your entire life away. Cooking and buying food to cook and washing up all the dishes from cooking THREE TIMES A DAY can kill you. You look back at your life and realize that's all you've done and nothing to show for it. This only applies to this person because I miss my Memaw and my grandmother and my aunt Kate doing just this like the wizard women they were. I loved being called to the table and have been good at showing up to the table all of my life. And I really enjoying cooking once a month. When it is cold outside. And I am cooking chili or gumbo or anything else that fits in one bit pot because I consider that civilized.
ELECTRO MAGNETIC PULSES ARE REAL
I have a new watch. I am a watch girl. If I had millions of dollars I would have several nice watches and by nice I mean $$$$$$$$$ watches. I have one to pass down to each little in my life for their inheritance. Which they would toss in a drawer and never wear because they have phones or chips or something. But I am a watch girl. With my phone in my hand I'll look at my wrist to tell the time and become frustrated when it isn't there. I don't believe I want an Apple Watch although if I had several $$$$$$$$ watches I would throw one in the mix. Normally, I cannot wear a battery with a watch because of something having to do with my elecrtonmatic field. This is a pretty true statement. My body kills batteries. Or they just stopped working which is the same thing. So for years I wore a Seiko solar watch that kept pretty good time as long as it got a good dose of sun on a regular basis. After we had days and days of rain last month it had stopped so while actually watering the plants on the porch I took it as a good time to take it off and lay it on the porch railing. I never saw it again. Mama was with cousin Deb so she didn't sneak out and take it and hide it from me only to watch me look for it for days or weeks before she produces this. Yes, she has done this on numerous occasions. I can't make excuses for that. She thinks it's funny or will teach me a lesson about losing things. It has taught me a lesson I assure you. But not the one she might imagine. So - Mama cannot be blamed for the fact that something took my shiny thing. I have had raccoons steal my shiny things. One was obsessed with a shiny piece of art known as wind chimes that hung just outside my door when I lived in my townhome in Panama City. He came every night to try to take the thing off the tree. I watched him. He wrestled and tussled and cussed and shook and hung upside down and then he went down the tree looked at me through the window and gave me the finger. He came back every single night until finally he had made off with this booty. I really liked that shiny thing. Watch be gone. I have searched the tall grass carefully to avoid snakes but on sign.
WHAT TIME IS IT? MOON TIME
So I finally broke down yesterday and bought a new watch from the little boutique in our neck of the woods we call Wal-mart. It's a Times expedition with indigo night light. Which means at any insomnia hour- when the full moon wakes this wild child ALWAYS -I have I don't have to turn on the light to wonder how close I am to calling what time I think it is. I can just push this little button and there we go. It cost half a dollar sign. It has a strap on band with velcro. I have tiny wrists so this is great. Didn't take anyone taking links out at all. I'm set. For as long as this battery lasts or I replace it three times within three months and if that happens - I'll be back on the solar train.
LOOK UP TO THE SKYS - IT'S WISHING TIME
Comet Neowise is passing by close this month. I think you can still catch it with the naked eye but there are space sites where you can watch it in real time. It's also the month of the Perseids meteor shower so for those of you who have NEVER seen what we call a shooting star this is your chance. Look up, look up, look up August 11-12 will be the prime viewing nights. And it's worth setting your alarm clock and going outside parking in a lawn chair in the dark and letting your eyes adjust. Give them a good fifteen minutes and keep your eyes on the stars. DO NOT take your phone with you so that you are texting I am outside waiting on the star shower and looking at the blue light on your phone. If you must do that - do it before you go outside. Lots of sites like the American Meteor Society or EarthSKY can give you more details.
THAT OLD FARM
Where Big Dog Titan wandered down the hill to visit the goats and they locked him in the pen thinking he was lost so he didn't get to wander back up the hill and come home. The next day when they stop being afraid of his big mouth they read his tag and called me. When I got there he was inside the little house with the old woman who was taking care of her 93 year old mother who kept saying He Ain't Nothin But A Baby as she fed him chicken and cornbread. So It was with a heavy heart I saw that the old farm was sold. And feared that condos would be built and that I'd hear bulldozers for years down the hill instead of a donkey braying and the morning crow of a rooster. There used to be cows in the field and the property runs round down the little creek we have to cross with a bridge as we keep our eyes peeled on that field and that little old White House. Finally there's been some movement and they've cleared a stand or two of street up against the hill. Wall straight up that hill and you'd be in my overgrown yard if you can call it a yard. Mama doesn't. She calls it a drop-off to your death. She will always be a flatlander she tells me. Aside from that - I saw a man pulling up to the gate and waved for him to wait a second. I pulled over and rolled the window down and asked him if he had time for a story. He said, sure. So I told him about Titan going missing and about the goats and the old women and the chicken and cornbread and how we had always loved that place. He said he wasn't the new owner but his friends were and they were gonna treat the land right and be good to it. Said they were also getting some cows. Thanked me for the story.
While I'm counting those shooting stars this month I'm going to add a few wishes. That maybe my new neighbors will get a donkey and just one good rooster.
I'll keep you posted.
Thanks so much for reading, liking and sharing with friends.