When NOT to Write

For any person visiting my blog with any regularity, it is known that I, as the writer of said blog, am NOT very regular in my writing of it.

I confess, lately all I’ve wanted to do is readreadread. I find I cannot easily both read and write in the same hormonal/creative/emotional/spiritual cycle. Right now I am all about readingreadingreading.

That said, in November I read all of THREE books. What the hell. It would have only been two, but I actually finished one last night. (“To Say Nothing of the Dog” by Connie Willis) Then I immediately started on “Saving Grandma” by Frank Schaeffer. I am about 176 pages into that one. Much better.

Last summer, I was averaging ten books per month. I am way down. I’m slipping.

So, what have I been doing while NOT reading books?

Well, last week was Thanksgiving, and THAT took up a whole day.

Jack started second grade this last Monday, so Bruce and I have been diligently re-learning the homework expectations and schedules. It has forced me to interact with my otherwise self-sufficient seven-year-old.

Speaking of which, I corresponded with Jack’s new teacher tonight to see how he’s doing. He had told me he was having a hard-ish time with division.

Division? I don’t think I learned about multiplication OR division until fourth-grade. I was starting to feel insecure, and was starting to think the chasm between first and second grade way too wide for my Sweet Baby Boy (smarty-pants or not), so I wrote Mrs. W to solicit a dose of reality.

In her reply, she indicated that Jack was referring to a math placement test that she is administering to the class, and that technically, the teaching of division doesn’t begin until third-grade. So, I needn’t worry about that. However, she did use the term “wicked smart” in the first sentence of her reply. And in the last sentence she mentioned how well the class has accepted Jack into its ranks. Aaaaah. Sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, I have a cold. And…..

I’ve been lukewarm-cold-calling previous art gallery customers to invite them to a release party we’re doing tomorrow night with our bread-and-butter artist, Charles Gause. Only once (that I know of) did I get hung-up on, or call a deceased person. That’s pretty good, isn’t it?

I called at least one CEO (in Anchorage, this isn’t saying much). And countless wrong numbers. No, wait…. Let’s count them afterall! ….. Only five. Well, that’s not very countless.

Also, it snowed tonight in Seattle. The significance of this is that my long-lost friend Kinh – AKA my “snow buddy” (from our college days) – called me FROM WORK of all places to share her excitement with me. I used the opportunity to plug the many snowy pleasures to be found in Alaska, and how much I thought her CHILDREN would enjoy it up here. She didn't disagree. So, we’ll see.

I’ve got a really, nasty, lay-in-the-bathtub and blow-my-nose kind of cold. So, I really don’t want to write. But feel I must write. If I stop, all is lost. My dreams will be shattered. Especially now that I’ve almost got a handful of people thinking of me as a “WRITER.”

Well, back to “Saving Grandma”.

Good-night.