In an effort to reignite the spark following a partial summer hiatus, I decided to sign up for the WordPress Writing 101 course. The first ‘lesson’ is today with the requirement to write and publish a ‘stream of consciousness’ piece. So here I am, writing directly into the WordPress editor and not my usual preferred venue, Word. Normally I will write and edit as I go, taking words here and there and polishing away like I’m trying to buff up a diamond! Well this time, you;re getting the diamond in the rough (my only concession will be a spell check. My spelling is good but I have dyslexic fingers). This does feel like homework I have to say. If my school days are anything to go by, I can guarantee that I will be finishing this on the bus, or at break time. I’ve no doubt I may well find myself sent to the virtual Principal a couple of times. Come to think of it, that might be fun. Maybe I should ‘forget’ a few times 🙂
So, Monday lunchtime is upon us. This feels a bit like school. “Write about what you did at the weekend”. If you’re anything like me, that question usually resulted in a blank page for half the lesson at least. As a grown-up (at least in years) there is much more to fill my weekends these days. And this past one was not too shabby. Friday night we headed down to a quaint fishing village – Fisherman’s Wharf for anyone who knows Nova Scotia. There was a race that my girls took part in. Well organised, great event and a great fireworks show to finish the evening. My confession here is that I should have been running, but I opted out a couple of months back. My running mojo seems to have gone the way of my writing mojo. I’m thinking these two events are likely connected in the old psyche, and likely have something to do with overall frustrations and challenges in the bigger picture (oops – just corrected what would have been a very nasty typo when typing ‘bigger’. They really should move ‘n’ away from ‘b’).
Anyhow, back to the mojo. I guess things have been getting me down this year. Everything seems to be happening in a fog, almost like my feet are in treacle (or molasses for my North American readers). I’ve been finding it hard to get enthusiastic about pretty much anything. My get up and go just got up and went. Recognising the problem is a big part of the solution though, which is why I’;m here rambling about nothing in particular. Give me some rules to follow and I will dig in and carry on. Leave me with free choice and in present state likely nothing will happen. My best blogging took place during the A to Z challenge back in April, where there was a requirement to blog daily for the whole month. Without the self-imposed deadline, things went South thereafter.
One new thing did happen this weekend, as a matter of fact. I got to my first college football game. Now before you all get too excited and start picturing Old Miss or Florida State, let me remind you we are talking about Nova Scotia. But still, it was not half bad. I took a good friend up to Wolfville for a birthday treat and we both had a blast trying to decipher the differences between the Canadian and the American game. Wolfville is a beautiful little town too, with the university at the heart of the community. There was some minor razzmattazz and then the game got underway. Unfortunately the home team lost, due to some very questionable coaching decisions to twice concede a safety instead of punting and risking giving the opposition good field position, but hey. What do I know? I’ve never played the game. I’ve played plenty of other games, but never this one.
Arrrhh. I just caught myself editing my stream of consciousness. Debating whether I should or should not say what I was thinking. I”m too aware that this Blog is highly public amongst friends and family I guess, so I’m constantly feeling the need to edit and not only keep my PG rating intact, but also avoid telling any stories (however surreptitiously) that can be traced back to the original protagonists. I really should have gone with the nom de plume, then to Hell with the censors. I know, I know. An artist should produce for their own purposes and should not be a slave to their audience, but that’s psychology and this is real life.
Anyway – where was I? Oh yes – football and the Annapolis Valley. I do love getting up into the Valley at any time of the year. This area is alive with farms and festivals, small town events and laid back lifestyles. Last week we were up here to visit one of the last remaining Drive-In movies (operated for charity by the local Lions). Fantastic evening. This week it is the football. Soon it will be apple picking, then pumpkins ready for Fall decoration. Kentville has an annual display of pumpkin people all over the town – scarecrows on steroids! I know many people who would happily retire to Wolfville, so come the big day, we will no doubt have many friends to share coffee with in one of the many independent coffee houses.
Slowing down now. My stream of consciousness is becoming a dribble. Like an old guy with prostate trouble I can feel it all in there, I just can’t squeeze it out. There’s no shame in getting old of course – it’s far better than the alternative – but why does the wrapper have to get wrinkly when the stuff inside still feels fresh as a daisy? How many people out there actually feel their physical age? How many of you are shocked when you catch a glance in the mirror? Turn off the lights and you can be an amorous young lover once more. Without a mirror that logo T-shirt and ripped jeans looks so cool. I know I am super cool when I drive my sports car – if only the folks out there could see the person I was and still think I am, before age and gravity took ahold. I think I wrote bout this a while back. I can’t give you the link though, not allowed in this exercise, so you will just have to go seek it out yourself in amongst my back catalogue. Age has a way of shortening the years too, so you recall doing something or going somewhere, only to realise it happened two decades ago. Already we’ve been resident in this fine country for over 7 years. Seven Years! Where did the time go? I’m into single figures now for my planned retirement (I plan to retire at 45 by the way). There’s a strange piece of Einsteinian psychics going on, where the days in a week drag by Monday through Friday and weekends fly past, yet before you know it, there goes another summer, it’s Christmas again. Another year has gone by. My God – stop the carousel, I want to get off.
And get off I shall. I’ve stood here long enough, the dribble has finally stopped so with a couple of shakes I will be on my way. I hope you stayed til the end and that final vision is seared now into your retinas.
Until tomorrow then.