(10 of 50)

I used to write koans when I was in graduate school. Dealing with really brainy, weighty ideas and analytical thinking all day makes you want to play with abstractions and absurdities. Here are a few.

(A koan is a brief saying or teaching. The more you think on it, the more the ideas bloom in your mind. Mine may or may not fill the bill.)

Wear red when cooking beets.

Tiger balm is kitty bane.

Practice breathing.

(this from my father) Don’t worry about what people think because they so seldom do.

(this from my astronomy prof) Put your money on gravity.

Cooperate with reality.

(4 of 50)

I have a total aversion to voice mail announcements. And this issue seems to be escalating in the roster of Annoying Things. Is there anyone who doesn’t know to wait for the beep?

When I get someone’s voice mail announcement, unless they have a habit of changing it to reflect some information I might need, I start pressing 1 or # or 0 at the very first opportunity. “Please listen to the menu as it has changed.” No, sorry. That part never changes!

THE.MOST.ANNOYING.voice mail menu ever is for Virgin Mobile. I had one for a brief time and “top-ups” had to be done by phone… the MUSIC! AUGHHHHHHHH! the hipster chicky-poo voice! AUGHHHHHHHHHH! They had voice recognition… so you COULD NOT press buttons. You had to SAY “TOP UP.” And you had to say it as though you were the coolest, poshiest of the Posh Spice Fangirls. I believe they hadn’t reckoned on the Texas accent when angered. So I got a lot of “Sorry, didn’t catch that. If you’d like to top up, say TOP UP.” I said a lot of things that rhyme with shuck off. (more…)

Always with great intentions for writing posts, I think about my blog all the time. I eat at a restaurant and see an interesting/funny table. “I’ll blog that!” Then I forget.

When driving along, I see a bumper sticker or hear a song, and a confluence of ideas takes place. I think, “ah, that would be good to work out in a blog entry! I’ll do that when I get home.” Then I forget.

I have little notebooks in my purse. In the car. I have lots of pens. I like to shop for pens and notebooks. I browse websites with writing tools, writing books and writing advice. And yet, I can go for a month without posting in my blog.

Time to wake up. In fact, I am approaching a milestone birthday, and I have an idea. I may regret this in a few days, but here is the plan for waking up my creative spirit, for invoking the Muse(s) and beginning (continuing) my writing life.

“Fifty to Fifty” is the title I made up in the car. I toyed with “50 2 50″ or “Fifty2Fifty” or 50250 or “Fifty to 50″… but the gist is that I propose to write an entry a day, for the fifty days leading up to my 50th birthday. Which is June 15. That means I start on April 26, but since I plan to celebrate June 15 in a special way and may not be near a keyboard, I will start on April 25. Yes. That is my plan.

Since coming up with this creative inspiration, I have been listing (in my head) a number of topics. Will I have a subtheme? an agenda? I don’t know. All I know is that despite the arbitrary nature of the calendar and time, my brain and psyche somehow KNOWS about these birthdays. My 40th was fantastic. My online friends made that day amazing for me. And now I want to give back.

My 50th birthday will not be the big media event as was Oprah’s. I hope my hair looks good, but honestly I just want meet it however it comes. In haste, in abandon, in justice, in peace, in consternation, in revelry (or Ravelry!), in ceremony, in joy, in Austin.

I confess that I contemplated lying. Yes, 50 is a good year to start lying about my age, I thought. I rehearsed all the birthdates and age differences I’d have to adjust. I’d have to lie on a daily, cellular basis. I’d also have to forget stuff, like JFK’s assassination. Jim Fowler’s appearances on The Tonight Show. I’d have to get serious about plastic surgery.

No thanks. I’d rather redefine 50 for myself, for readers, for friends who are not yet there. So, just buckle in and play along, friends. It’s going to be a fun ride. 50 is the new 50.

Lucy in the Park, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

Lovely girl. It’s been six weeks since her adoption, and she now notices a pattern to the days. I get herded to the dog food twice a day, I am alerted to the presence of squirrels in the back yard, the trash truck in the alley or the guy with the spaniel on a ridiculously long leash. I am also told when it is time to go for walks on leashes so that the neighborhood may know that it is safe.

At 2:50pm, she comes into my office and looks politely at her watch. Time to pick up the boy from school. She has a following of squealy girls and a few guys at the schoolyard. But if that little black fluffy dog is there, forget it – all her manners go by the wayside.

When we go to the dog park, she spends a lot of time herding the smaller dogs, and chasing the ball-chasing dogs. She only herds the resident terrier at the end of the day when she is bored with everything else. He growls a warning, then apologizes and they snooze together on the dog couch, on opposite ends.

She also goes to all doctor appointments, shows promise as a service dog, and exhibits impeccable car manners. Except on the road trip when she nosed into the scones I was saving for Monahans. They were gone when I looked for them - an innocent but faintly orange and cranberry-loving look on her face.

She sleeps under my bed, and when she dreams, the woofs and quick inhalations come up through the mattress more than become audible. ONe night only, I let her sleep on the bed with me. She was a most amiable companion and did not hog the bed at all. When she sleeps under my chair during the day, she sometimes leaves a puddle of drool and then modestly cleans it up when she wakes up.

She is my last three dogs rolled into one and I adore her.

(It’s been a while since I posted, so this is a catch-up catch-all entry.)

Tuesday was the Texas primary and it was a corker! In our precinct, there was a preponderance of Obama supporters but still Hillary managed to pull nine delegates vs. 21 for Obama. And she won the state, but not by the huge margin she really needed. We’ll see what happens.

And the caucus was a zoo! For our little area, there were maybe 200 people interested in the caucus, as opposed to three or four in previous years. This scenario played out all over the Metroplex, and Texas as well. It was exciting to be a tiny little part of history!

In other raucous news, I have been busier with a new forum for knitters and crocheters, though oddly (not really), the conversation has not focused much on knitting. A favorite topic seems to be copyright laws and practices, and that particular thread is never ending and self-propagating. Is it “fair use” to copy one pattern from a book in the library? Can one sell a knitted item from someone else’s pattern? Will this yarn felt? etc. ad nauseum.

I have photos of Lucy to upload, mostly on the couch as she rarely sits still when awake. I need to remember to take the camera when we go walking on the nature trail. She is a very good companion - biddable, cheerful and so smart. Her nose is always working, and you can see the wheels of her brain turning. (Although, as a border collie, she has undoubtedly upgraded from an analog brain to a digital one with Intel core.)

There is a dusting of snow on the ground, it’s a Friday and I think the district should declare a snow day, not because the roads are impassable or anything, but because a day off would be fun. But it doesn’t look like they will. Alas.

Your Score: Rabbit

You scored 21 Ego, 14 Anxiety, and 18 Agency!

IT was going to be one of Rabbit’s busy days. As soon as he
woke up he felt important, as if everything depended upon him.
It was just the day for Organizing Something, or for Writing a
Notice Signed Rabbit, or for Seeing What Everybody Else Thought
About It. It was a perfect morning for hurrying round to Pooh,
and saying, “Very well, then, I’ll tell Piglet,” and then going
to Piglet, and saying, “Pooh thinks–but perhaps I’d better see
Owl first.” It was a Captainish sort of day, when everybody
said, “Yes, Rabbit ” and “No, Rabbit,” and waited until he had
told them.

You scored as Rabbit! (more…)