Just One Skill?

The prompt says “One skill”. Just one? I would like to be skilled at a lot of things. For example, things having to do with my writing. I would like to be more skilled at writing and definitely more skilled at promoting. And many other things as well — I would like to be more skilled at athletic things (and as I’m starting at zero, there’s no place to go but up.)

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But here’s one skill I’d like to have that seems to be out of nowhere — carpentry. I would love to be instantly skilled at carpentry. I am so far away from skilled at carpentry that my friends keep me away from power tools because I might injure myself. This is not an exaggeration — I had three friends yell “No!” When I asked if I could use the chain saw. I took a shop class in high school and the boys in the class did all the bandsaw and sander and router work for me. I was allowed to varnish. That’s it. I have profound hand-eye coordination problems and everyone who has met me instinctively notices this. Probably in the way I can’t walk a straight line when sober.

But I really admire carpentry. To be able to build something that stays together and is useful? Yes, please! I would love to have that power. Christmas presents would be easy from that point on. Everyone needs boxes, and carpentry is based on building boxes, even if some of them actually look like chairs. Or tables.

Of course, if I could do carpentry, I would need lots of equipment to do it. Expensive equipment. Of course I would need it, because when I get a hobby I go all out with it. And then I get bored with it. Writing is probably the only hobby I haven’t abandoned after a couple of years, and even so sometimes I get bored with it. Maybe it’s a good idea I can’t do carpentry. It’s an expensive hobby.

Daily writing prompt

What’s your favorite meme?

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This isn’t exactly a meme, but it’s what came up in my mind when I saw the question. “Oh my God! His name is Muffin?”

Soulmates?

Daily writing prompt

Do you believe in soulmates? Why or why not?

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I do not believe in soulmates. At least I don’t believe that everyone has exactly one soulmate who they are fated to meet and marry.

First of all, it seems cruel. What if you never find your soulmate because they died? What if your soulmate is abusive? No second chances with another soulmate?

Second, we grow and change. Is my soulmate at age 16 going to be my soulmate at 60? Maybe, maybe not. I was convinced the guy I was dating in my early 20s was my soulmate. He was not, nor was the person I dated in my mid-30s. The guy I’ve been married to for 19 years is probably my soulmate. Or a soulmate.

I think we have more than one soulmate. We have different alignments with different soulmates. One might be the one you marry; another may be someone you do crossword puzzles with, or gossip with, or play Spades with.

So I don’t believe I have a soulmate. I believe I have several, but I haven’t met them all yet. And I’m certainly not going to get romantically involved with all of them (one spouse is enough).

The Feeling of Falling Asleep

Daily writing prompt

What’s a simple pleasure in life that brings you joy?

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The feeling of falling asleep — of abandoning wakefulness, of surrendering to drowsiness, of letting go of the day’s tensions — is one of my simplest pleasures. It doesn’t get much simpler than something I do every night, part of my daily maintenance.

I have to sleep. There’s no sense in feeling guilty about the enforced break. There’s no ‘I should be doing housework instead’. There’s only a need to shut down and sleep.

Sleep means dreams, and I relish my dreams. The surreal landscapes, the deep plots, the hidden messages. I love everything about dreams, even the nightmares that occasionally show up.

I love waking up. I smile most mornings because I have had sleep, have had journeys, have partaken of refreshment.

Teleportation

Daily writing prompt

What super power do you wish you had and why?

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The superpower I wish I had would be teleportation.

I find getting from one place to another to be tedious. I could be doing so many things in the time it takes a car to meander to that place. A trip to nearby St. Joseph takes 45 minutes by car; a trip to Kansas City an hour and a half. That time is spent captive in a car, and I get carsick if I want to read during that time.

But if I could teleport, I could near instantaneously appear at my destination. How great that would be! No transit time, no carsickness. I could make traveling across the country as convenient as a trip to the store. I could afford traveling to France!

I’m assuming there’s great energy use in teleporting. If so, that’s a bonus. I would not have to diet. I would burn off the extra calories teleporting. I could eat a whole pie! I suppose having to eat so much to refuel would be a burden after a while, but in the short run I could eat a lot of dessert.

I wish I could teleport!

A Big Audacious Walking Goal

I have a Big Audacious Goal, and it has nothing to do with writing. This goal is for walking, and walking like I used to.

My husband thinks my BAG is too big, because what I’d really like to do is walk up to Grey’s Truck Stop for lunch. That’s eight miles round trip. I am a long way from there — a long way. Right now, my dizziness and lack of stamina gets me one time around the block.

SMART goals — the “R” stands for realistic, and my goal is not at the present moment realistic. Making it realistic would mean cutting down the distance to goal. So maybe a more realistic goal would be walking a mile, or even a half mile.

But one mile is not a Big or Audacious goal. Richard agrees on this, which means he finally understands BAGs. So the BAG is to Gray’s and back, and there will be all sorts of intermediary goals, such as twice around the block and so on.

Now all I have to do is start consistently walking around the block.

Officially Summer for Me

I am done with all my grading, all my meetings (I hope), all my commitments for Spring semester. I am done with the school year!

Now what? I feel like I’m done too soon. It’s not summer; it’s 62 degrees out and cloudy.

I have 10 interns, and that will give me a bit to do over the summer, but most of them are local and I won’t be doing more than one road trip to visit them. That gives me more summer to try to find something to do. I can’t believe I’m having a problem of not enough to do.

There are things I need to do. For one, sort out all my clothes from the piles they have become. Rewrite my syllabi for Fall semester. Build more posts in Loomly (social media software). Blog every day.

I am avoiding saying I need to write. Writing has been hard lately. I have a novel in mind, but the urge to write hasn’t hit me lately. The last book I wrote didn’t have an urge to write attached. Maybe boredom will help me write.

My husband has reminded me I have to pack my office up for a move across campus. I think I preferred being bored.

May Day

People don’t celebrate May Day anymore — at least not the floral holiday that occurs on May 1st. The international workers’ day celebrated in many countries, yes. But I’m talking about May Day baskets delivered on doorsteps.

Some elementary school teacher started me on the holiday years and years and how many years ago. I think the holiday was fading even then, but the teacher told us the lore anyhow, about how May 1st was a day when one made May baskets and filled them with flowers, and then left them on someone’s porch. Even in first grade, I got the impression that it was supposed to be a heterosexual flirtation ritual — probably because of the part where you’re supposed to kiss the giver if you caught them delivering the basket. And we didn’t have anything but heterosexual flirtations back then because it was the Sixties.

I delivered May baskets in my 20s. I made a list, mostly male, of people I wouldn’t mind flirting with. And, strangely, I gave them a fighting chance not to catch me. It seems odd now that I would try not to get caught if I were flirting with them, but that’s the way the holiday works. I had some close escapes, including throwing myself over the railing of a fire escape to avoid being caught.

I have not delivered May baskets in years, even before I got married (and that was 19 years ago). I’ve gotten too busy, and don’t have a good block of time to mastermind a basket for my husband. When am I going to make the basket with him underfoot? How am I going to bake cookies? The tradition has died with me.

The Concert Last Sunday

Daily writing prompt

What was the last live performance you saw?

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Last Sunday, I watched the Nodaway County Chorale perform their annual Spring concert. Community choirs are an interesting concept, because there are people who love to sing who aren’t professionals. They don’t need to be — they enjoy singing, and that’s enough. They have enough talent to sing in tune and pick up the right rhythm, and they have enough fortitude to practice regularly.

My husband has been in the choir for over 15 years. He devotes Monday nights from September through April for this. They do two concerts a year — one at Christmas and one in the Spring. I admire his commitment and that of the 50-odd people who make up the chorus.

I am not in the Chorale. I lost my ability to sing several years ago — my voice has gotten weak and I can’t always hit the right notes. My type of singing tends toward folk music — if I played guitar I probably would still be writing and singing folk songs regardless of whether I could sing. Plus I like having my Monday nights free.

So I got to see my husband’s concert. It was good — they always are, no matter how much Richard fusses about it before the concert.

One Day Till Summer Break!

I have one exam (literally one exam — I have one student taking it) to give and grade, and then I am done with the semester! The school year has gone so fast, probably because I dealt with it one day, one task at a time. Very much in the present.

This summer, I will be bored unless I start writing. I have already laid out fall classes (including making them accessible) and putting my calendar in place. Other than revising syllabi to be ADA compliant, I have fall semester in the bag. I have 9 interns to visit over the summer, a lot of them local. Therefore, a lot of free time. I estimate a lot of writing and coffee. Hopefully a couple weekends for retreat time.

Here’s to a relaxing summer!