Rainy morning update

For the last two mornings I've been practicing doing my "five minutes" of writing, writing writing, not blog writing which M. Lee claims is not writing at all. I differ with that opinion but I know what he's getting at. Anyway, two days ago I (once again) rose to his challenge and made myself "work". In other words, I stared down the blank page, fought off the Brutal Editor and scratched out a few words. So much easier to do this. Or, easier yet, photographs.

But, then again, griping about writer's block, is a device. I just need something to replace the current top post. I'm tired of that vulture staring at me whenever I drop by to grab a link or see if anyone on my blogroll has done a new post. By the way. Where's the Deconstructionist? It's been almost a year now! I know. Busy. But, back to that vulture for a minute. It feels like my blog is the roadkill laying in the street, and beyond that, the rest of my writing, what little there is of it, or might ever be, and that gets old.

It's bad enough that I'm already feeling pretty uninspired lately. I like Florida but I'm also really isolated here. Okay, I feel like that everywhere. On the upside, we have a healthy routine. We bike, swim and go to the gym on a regular basis. I'm grateful for that. But, once again, no friends, no history and not much chance of either. How would I make it different? At this point, I'm not sure I can. We'll be gone in a couple of months and do it all over again somewhere else. It's the curse of the road. Love it or leave it, right? My family is my anchor but they have their own lives. And so do I. I don't want to "live through them". That sounds so sadly vampirish and just plain sad. Even being a grandma is a relationship, certainly a wonderful one, a precious gift, but it's not my identity. And, I'm not "retired". I cannot even begin to wrap my head around that word. It doesn't make sense to me at all. I always have a project, a goal, a dream and my own personal nightmares.

I know. So get on with it. Blah blah. I've written about this before. Boo-hoo. The feelings will pass, even if the situation does not. I'll get to the Florida Writer's Association meeting next time they meet. That will help. They're nice folks and dedicated writers. Excuse me but it does help to sort it out here. So okay. Thanks for listening. I've got my feet back under me now.

In other news, the fight for domination of Frida's pineapple palm tree is all but won by none other than Diego Rivera, champion of the Battle Royale. The twins and Leon Trotsky gave it their best but Diego is a fearsome foe. You might ask, how can I know it's him? After all, we are talking about squirrels, are we not? Well, Diego has a distinctive tail. Of course, he's fatter and fuller than he was back in Frida's day, and that funny little ratty tip of his tail has filled in some, but the kink is still visible and the tip is still a bit on the ratty side. Plus, that's who he is, whoever he is. Easy.