wbrosie's blog

At least that's what the robin was saying this morning.

The sun rises early in this part of the world. I remember being at an all night drive-in theatre with a friend from New Mexico and she was astonished to still see a glow to the west well after 9:30 at night and that when we were leaving after the last movie there was already a lightening in the sky to the east.

However, I checked on the internet and the sunrise here was at 4:57 am. So what was the point of the chorus at 3:15? The early bird gets the what..I don't know...the first female robin that may be flying around at 3:15 looking for love?

Whatever it is, I hope he finds it soon. Waking up at 3:15 makes for a longish sort of day.

Early Mornin' Romeo

Okay, Morgat.  You know I had to do this too! Here are my answers to the Actor's Studio Questionnaire:

by Rosie

(clears throat nervously)

What be that yellow ball

a-hangin' in the sky?

It's really, really bright and

the light - it hurts me eye.

I hear the sound of mowers

running o'er the grass.

It makes me feel a-guilty

here sittin' on me -

kitchen chair.

(Snicker, snicker)

It's late and the sky outside my kitchen window is black.  The orange glow of the street light and the hum of my refrigerator are the only company I have right now and that's just fine with me.  I love my family, but sometimes I love the quiet more.  So, I send my family off to bed and then read by myself or, as tonight, check on my Vox friends and simply enjoy the peace.

I have been remiss this last while. I told you all about the writing classes that I have taken and right then my imagination flared.  Like a flare the desire to write flamed so bright it hurt the eyes, and like a flare, was short-lived. I have a quote on my desk at work from Maya Angelou, "Nothing will work unless you do."

So tomorrow, back to the blank pages. My imagination holiday is over. And now, that the peace of my night-settled home has calmed my soul, I will say, "Good night." And join my family in slumber.

Sweet dreams and peace, all.

Okay, that's at work but even at home, I feel like the fellow in the painting "The Scream". It's a good thing that life's activities slide into shore like waves. Busy, not so busy, a little bit hectic, take a deep breath, here we go again, whew that wasn't so bad. But the last two weeks have been mad!

We have finally had some nice weather and so it's been outside for some well-deserved and long-awaited sunshine and fresh air.  The gardens look orderly and ready to burst! - well maybe inch into bloom - okay - inch into slight growth.  The grass is turning green and the leaves are budding on the trees. Spring is taking a long time this year.

So, in this house, we're shaking off our winter gray and stepping out in spring time green! Unfortunately, that means the inevitable spring-cleaning. It's wonderful to have the house in order as well and to have the windows open to a fresh prairie breeze.

I finished another writing class.  This one was aimed at writing for children.  We had a great group and have decided to meet once a month to gauge how the writing is going.  Have I become part of a writing group? Cool! But with the increase in household activity the writing has slowed to a standstill.  I am hoping to finish the wall washing and painting by the time the weather is really nice and then I can sit in my little back yard under the shade of the pergola and scratch my pencil across paper while enjoying a cool libation (probably containing dangerous amounts of rum, hey Carlisa?).

Okay, all that being said. Please let the weatherman be wrong about the snow we're supposed to get this week. Please!!!

I need a swig.  A good long one. We awoke this morning to a landscape coated in a thick (and I mean THICK) blanket of white.  It snowed again.  It's supposed to snow tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...creeps this petty pace from day to day....sorry I am digressing.  Anyway, the foreseeable future involves copious droppings of the white stuff.

This is ironic because the writing exercise for today is to write 15 minutes on the following sentence:

"Describe a snowy winter day."

Okay, it's not winter but it's snowy, bloody snowy. Fifteen minutes on the wonder of the crytalline structure of a droplet of moisture? Normally, I could wax eloquent on the beauty of the falling snow, the way it blankets the buildings - not Aubrey or pyrit eloquent - Rosie eloquent: "It sure is pretty!"

Today I just want to write the same four letter word over and over again for 15 minutes. I won't share it with you, but pick any four letter word.  It'll work....

Snow, snow go away, come back in November, eh?

It's supposedly spring on the Canadian prairies.  And, although spring here is full of surprises, it's really disheartening to look outside and see snow flurries! I was just thinking how great it would be to be outside tomorrow and start cleaning the yard and wash my windows!

I really shouldn't complain about not having more work to do, but the length and depth of this winter make a lot of people, including me, itch to get outside and do - stuff.  Not that the stuff itself is exciting. Just the thought moving around outside without a snow shovel in your hand or a snow blower roaring a path through the drifts in front of you is exciting.

Maybe overnight, the weather will change drastically and there will be sun and warmth. Maybe I can cavort outside on the lawn. Maybe I can watch my hands prune in the heat of wash water. Maybe I will wake up and be 25 again!

Well, at least I haven't put the snow shovel away yet.

Grrrr...I mean...Brrrr

I am still trying to make headway on my short story.

And I'm finding it really difficult!  First my characters were uninteresting and forgettable, except maybe the dog.  Then when I finally had the characters molded to my satisfaction and I sat down to write like I always do - Wing It - I realized there was no way I could just wing my way through this type of story.  So I started a new document in my word program called, "Plot Outline" and began to painstakingly write out how I see the story unfolding.  It was going along fine and suddenly I hit a roadblock.  (Which is funny considering the problem I encountered.) My problem is how to make a car accident, that is truly a car accident, look like a murder.  And I thought; first, my main character must be crafty enough to make the tampering consistent with the accident that takes place and, second, she needs to know about vehicles.

Hence, the author needs to become acquainted with the workings of the brakes of a vehicle.

"Help...." She cries faintly. "Anyone?"

My second writing class was tonight.  I have only one more in this session and that is two weeks from now.  Tonight our instructor taught us that we should use the five senses in our writing ( taste, see, smell, touch, hear) and gave us a quick exercise to describe our favourite activity.  See if you can guess what mine is, Morgat...  Here is what I wrote:

"I snuggled into the soft pillow, inhaling the fresh scent of laundry soap from the cotton pillow case.  Sliding under the plush throw, so reminiscent of real fur, I nudged the purring cat over and rolled over onto my side with a sigh.  The soft, slow hum of the ceiling fan calmed my breathing and I could feel sleep enveloping me in a warm hug."

Yep, I love me a nap.  I guess I was tired tonight because every exercise we did, I located in a bedroom, wrote about sleep or had someone sleeping in the scene.

We also talked about hook sentences, nature of dialogue and writing from different points of view.  I am so excited to continue working on my short story!  However, based on tonight's information, it requires a full rewrite.  But for now - G'night!

O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head..." - Thomas Hood

I've been singing this song (to everyone's dismay) for days now.  The lady beside me at work sticks her head over the cubicle wall and usually says, "Somebody's happy today."  Well happy or not, I have had it in my head for a long time.