Sous Gal

I just want to give a shout-out to my friend Sous Gal. I've followed her for a few years and we've had a mutual admiration thing going on. Even though she's in another country (kinda, Canada), I've felt her writing like few others. And now I feel pain. She's just been diagnosed with Cervical cancer, and I want to fly up and give her a big hug. Alas, I can't, so maybe if we all send her some love, she can feel a metaphorical hug. She's on my blogroll as Everything is the Way it is..., although she now calls her blog something else, Here, Taste This. Share the love.

And read her blog. She'll teach you how to write for real. And from the heart.

Summer Doldrums, aka Rambling

I want to write. I need to write. My fingers aren't co-operating. Summer tends to be when I'm least productive. This time of year down here in the South, we tend to disappear into the cool environs of our air-conditioned homes whenever feasible. I do read others' blogs and read the news sites, but I just don't feel motivated to write because I'm not as social this time of year. Therefore, I don't write about my exciting night watching the season premiere of Project Runway, or my spine-tingling evening sorting Perma-Press from Whites. Nor do I talk about my ever-procrastination concerning the bathtub scrubbing.

I mow my lawn......sometimes. Just had to buy another mower after the last one would not retract the stupid pull cord. Nothing exciting there, except I found a Home Depot employee who actually wanted to help me load my purchase. I wavered about wanting to tip him, but he turned and left after putting my box in my truck-bed so fast, I feel he wasn't actually looking for a tip. Bald eagle followers should be camped outside his house, for he is more rare.

I stop at Wallyworld a few times each week for basics. Sometimes there's blogging material there, but you can see that at assorted websites making fun of Wallyworld shoppers. Writing about over-stressed sweatpants and carbunckles just doesn't float my boat. Well, sometimes it does, but I don't feel good about myself after.

I wash dishes......sometimes. I really miss having a dishwasher. I sometimes feel like I'm living in the Stone-age. Especially when I have to crank out the ice cubes from those stupid plastic trays. Can't someone invent some really "inventive" ice cube trays? Or am I the only one who still makes my own ice?

But, believe me, when something really interesting happens, I will start pounding these keys. Hopefully, it will happen soon.