“Central to natural writing is an attitude of wonder.” Gabriele Lusser Rico~

Well, I certainly have that going for me. Sometimes . . . .

I remember looking at a new morning as if it were a fresh, Crayola drawn adventure. Every turn was of the brightest hue. My eyes saw roses and hot fudge sundaes instead of weeds and rice puddin. I actually looked forward to getting up and meeting life. But with age came health problems. Then time marched forward, bringing a sense of wheels spinning backward. So I could *think* of this void as age related, right? Then how should we explain

John Stanford

It’s probable  my ways are catching up with me. I’ve never been a rudimentary person. I read about these prolific writers that rise early and write long. They’ll tell you it does NOT matter whether what you write is good or not, but that you write . . . for the sake of it.

“The work habit that underlies virtually all writing problems is the tendency to write and edit simultaneously.” Henriette Anne Klauser~

Ah HA!

Right then and there is MY problem! It’s true . . . I find it difficult these days to get to the second draft, as the first draft is in constant reload mode. I wonder what it is I have to say, then I try to control the flow of it, as if my muse can be captured and tamed like a river getting too close to a lock.

Well, I’m not sure I’ve come closer to any sort of answer. I suppose it’s a given that life, and a writers words, are a mixture of starts and stops. I gather too, that I’m not unique; even though I’d like to think I am. Perhaps  Dorothea Brande says it best: “The most enviable writers are those who, quite often unanalytically and unconsciously, have realized that there are different facets to their nature, and are able to live and work with now one, now the other … ”

Rural Woman, here. Till next time -

PS: I love being a writer. What I can’t stand is the paperwork. – Peter de Vries

……. There wasn’t another person in this massive room filed with every kind of bird imaginable. Janet searched one side of the long room and I the other, each looking for that perfect blue parakeet. In the background of chirps and cooing, someone said,

…….“Come here.” I looked around for another customer but there wasn’t any.

…….“Did you say something, Janet?”

…….“Hum?” she said absently.

…….I figured I was hearing things.

A few minutes later, I heard it again, .”Come here!!”

…….Of course Janet didn’t hear it, so I went looking for the voice. I’m so glad there wasn’t anyone else in that place. Going from bird to bird, I got quite perturbed that none of them would speak to me. I made my way down the back wall, and a Macaw said,

…….“Come here.”

…….Aw, I’d finally found the little stinker! “Did you call?”

…….He cocked his head, studying me a bit. Then in a shrill, loud voice screamed, ” SHUT UP!”

……. I almost fell into the cages behind me.

………………………………………………………………..###

…….We did manage to find a perfectly matched blue parakeet and took it home. Janet and I were nervous when Bob got home that night. Would he notice the bird was not the same one he’d left that morning? We watched him go to the cage and speak to “Sam” in his deep, rich voice that birds love. It worked!

…….BIG breath out . . . .

…….Bob talked to Sam for a couple of minutes, then went to the living room to relax before supper. A few moments of triumph quickly came to a heart thumping end. There was a scuttle, so I peeked around the doorway to see what was up. Bob was on his hands and knees looking under the end table.

…….“Janet, did you know there’s a dead bird in here on the floor?”

Rural Woman, here.  See you next time!

PS: Morning Janet!

The pressure’s on . . .

Do you realise this is my first post? What you read here right now, may determine whether you step onto my porch ever again. As a brand new, expert blogger, I know I need to pull out all the stops. What can be done to make you LIKE me? Perhaps make you feel as if you knew me from this very moment in time?

Well . . .  maybe we need to know why people read these blogs, or write them. I myself am not concerned about ‘why’. I want you coming back – daily, reading, wanting to know what Rural Woman is up to! I’ll even lower myself to sensationalized journalism if needed.

Here, how about this ~

Today, I served tea to the new President of The United States, Barack Obama. Yes, he and I, sipping Earl Grey from mother’s blue and white Haviland. The 1920′s side table stood at the south end of my front porch, dressed in thrift store lace and peonies from the island bed. Mr President’s eyes studied my rural surroundings, then smiled as Hank ambled over and plopped at his feet. He breathed deeply, then exhaled as if this fresh air would drive the cares from his heart into nothingness. “So RW, do you think I’ve been good for the country so far?” he asked.

This maverick – this man who aspires to the ideals of Lincoln, needed me – needed my voice. I told him he was doing a fine job, given what he had to work with.

“And the stimulus package?”

“Aah . . . who knows, Barack.  Both sides can’t be right, can they?”

We both looked off into the rural surroundings for a moment, silent . . . .

A Secret Service man in black bent low and whispered. Time’s up. Barack stood, and we walked to edge of the long porch.

“Well, what sort of dog do you think I should get the girls, RW?”

“Get a mutt,” I teased. “They always behave better!”  

There, did I just clinched it? Hopefully, you’ll be back tomorrow, because now you know I’m fulla it. People love reading ‘fulla it’ writing, because it makes them smile . . . .

Rural Woman, here. See you next time!