Is there a right way to write?

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When I began to really delve into writing poetry and short stories I was more comfortable writing in long hand.  It freed my mind to truly compose the ideas, the rhymes and the drama, and felt much more like a natural flow from brain to hand to ink to paper.  The archaic version of computers we had at that point did not lend much ease in the writing experience since it was a behemoth that was no more moveable than my car.

In the bygone days of my youth (I make myself sound 100 years old), when I began to read voraciously, I would always have a pen and paper handy to write down any words I found challenging and words that I was excited to use in my writing.  It went on for pages.  I still have those pages and, although they are now collecting dust in a storage bin, they still remind me of my hunger for words.  My hunger now is much more easily satiated.  With the ease of Google, on-line dictionaries and thesauruses I no longer have to put the word to paper and look it up in a bound, hard-cover dictionary.  I even have a dictionary in my Kindle should the need arise to define a foreign word.

Nowadays, I’m sure a chimpanzee would have much more success with that foreign writing object we call a pen.  I used to have beautiful handwriting and now the things that come out of the pen slightly resemble a modified version of shorthand.  (It would be far more beneficial for me if it were shorthand since I currently have no clue what I’ve written!)

shorthand

(photo courtesy of commons.wikimedia.org)

With the ease of the digital age I use a voice recorder if I am overcome with inspiration.  Random thoughts that used to be scribbled on scraps of paper are now stored in my phone for easy access.  My calendar is on my iPhone and so is my shopping list.  Even with my creative stream, that long steady flow of blue ink has been replaced by the gentle tapping of the keyboard on my laptop.  I have finally been able to train my mind to tune out the incessant clicking and it no longer derails my train of thought.

What do you do?  Do you still give the ink a chance or are you a slave to your keyboard?

You better run – 100 word song

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You came unannounced.  You stealthily crept into my head and strategically built your wall in the darkest confines where I couldn’t see you.  Like a thief, you stole my ideas.  You banished any character from entering my thought process and you murdered my will to write.

But I’m on to you.  I’ve seen the ugliness in your soul.  Your darkness is no match for the light that words provide.  My will to create is much stronger than your effort to suppress my creativity.

I enter each day more prepared than the next.  If I see you again, you better run.

~~

Written for the 100-Word-Song challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.   This week’s song – You Better Run by Pat Benatar.

100 Word Song – I Saw Her Standing There

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I was perusing the mystery section, nothing really grabbing my interest, when I saw her.  The library was as reticent as expected but there was an aura of absolute silence beyond the normal quiet.

She hovered amidst the Dean Koontz novels, showing no interest in one particular book.  I feigned any enthusiasm and continued down the row of books, not taking time to make contact.

She still understood me. She would have put money on the fact I would be in this section.  Even after her passing, she still knew my vices and could anticipate how I would avoid reality.

~~

Written for the 100 word song at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.  The song choice this week is “I Saw Her Standing There” by The Beatles.  My best friend passed away almost 10 years ago and I still feel her presence in the strangest places.  This prompt made me think of her.

Monty Writeon’s – The Meaning of Blog

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meaning of life

(Image credit: Monty Python)

Part I – The Miracle of Birth

The conception of my blog was, indeed, immaculate.  It was unprotected and unplanned but, once it was miraculously born, it brought great joy to my life.  I have nourished it, fed it and loved it.  Its incessant need has brought many sleepless nights but the rare moments that it smiles at me make the bags under my eyes worthwhile.  I have held it close to my heart and have had moments that I wish it would sleep through the night and let me get some much-needed rest.

I have used many tricks to make it laugh and have relished the moments that it brought a smile to my face or a tear to my eye.  I have suffered through its teething and those many moments that nothing I did would make it happy.  Through its toddler phase we had a great deal of fun together, learning about each other as we spent more time together.  I watched it learn to walk and then to run.  I soothed its scrapes and cuts when it fell but, through all the tumultuous growing pains, we forged a bond that cannot be replaced.

Part II – Growth and Learning

Over the past year and a half I have watched it grow and mature.  I have seen it develop a personality and gain some independence.  But its need for me and my attention seems to be waning.  It seems to have rapidly entered its teenage years before my eyes.  It has become sullen and withdrawn.  We don’t spend much time together these days.

I get up early to go to work and can’t find the time needed to spend with it in those rising hours of the morning.  I have been working more split shifts recently and when I come home for my break it is lying on the couch, having accomplished nothing on its own during my absence. When I attempt to create some lasting moments with it in the afternoons, it ignores me and does not react to my efforts.

I can only hope in the near future that the negative teenage reaction will subside and, as a young adult does with their parents, we form a new alliance and become friends again.  I miss spending time with it and miss creating the words and phrases that we would carve into our reality.  With a little more effort on my part, I’m sure I can find that one common thread that will bring us back together again.  I put my faith in its capacity to grow and mature and its ability to accept the fact that I, too, have my limitations.

And the words shall set us free.

I’ll take a bowl of Super, please.

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Broncos   VS.  seattle-seahawks-team-logo

My most favorite and least favorite day of the year has arrived!!  The culmination of a great season of football and some hard-fought battles with the pigskin bring us to the moment that the Vince Lombardi trophy will be awarded.  My efforts as “The Commish”  in a 17-week long football pool as well as a playoff pool also come to an end at the pinnacle of the football season.  It is a bittersweet day.

Superbowl Sunday is like my Christmas day.  I awake excited knowing what the day will bring and can’t wait to unwrap the gift of football.  Unlike Christmas day, however, I fidget throughout the day in anticipation of the moment I can sit in front of my television set and scream obscenities at will.  My dog has had four weeks of pre-season, seventeen weeks of regular season and three weekends of playoff games to learn how to properly tune out the expletives that undoubtedly cascade from my lips.

This year’s rivalry between Denver and Seattle should be a close game and a well fought battle.  The pure, raw desire for each of these teams to reign supreme is evident on the field and the energy is palpable from both sidelines.  The deeply etched scars of the carnage on the field are proudly worn as badges of honor, but there is another carrot dangling ever so close to Peyton Manning besides putting his lips on the Vince Lombardi trophy.  Should the Denver Broncos emerge victorious, he will be the first quarterback in the NFL to win a second Superbowl championship throwing for two different teams.

Superbowl Sunday has become one of the most anticipated sporting events.  There is something so enticing about the spirit of Superbowl Sunday.  Even if you are not a fan of the game, the camaraderie and the game-day snacks are enough to draw in a crowd, if only to nibble the offerings and watch the commercials!

When the game is done, the trophy is presented and the celebration is carried on beyond the cameras, there should be a rehabilitation program for dedicated fans, like myself.  I admittedly feel a sense of loss and wander aimlessly on the Sunday following Superbowl trying to overcome that loss.  The sudden deviation to absolutely no football requires an intense effort to fill those weekend hours and I am forced to find sufficient entertainment to fill the void.  Thank God for blogging!

But for now, I will focus on Superbowl XLVIII – the throw down between the Broncos and the Seahawks.  It’s gonna be loud, it’s gonna be tense and it’s gonna be the Broncos 34 and the Seahawks 28.  Happy Superbowl Sunday!!

PS: If  you’re looking for me next Sunday, I will be signing up for an out-patient program for football withdrawal.

Going on a Scavenger Hunt

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DJMatticus over at The Matticus Kingdom is having a Scavenger Hunt.  I am having a rather quiet afternoon at work and thought ‘what fun!”, so I’m sharing this with all of you in hopes that you’ll join in the merriment!

Here is what he’s after:

Let’s do a scavenger hunt!!  Doesn’t that sound awesome?  I have no idea how it is going to work!!  And, yes, I’m so excited about that I am using the double exclamation points on purpose!!

How about this:

Go forth, using whatever methods you like, and bring me back whatever you think best represents:

1) The Jester (he obviously had to be writing!!)

bigjester

2) The Queen

crown

You’re the best friend
that I ever had
I’ve been with you such a long time
You’re my sunshine
And I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
You’re my best friend

3) The Little Prince

prince

4) The Kingdom (couldn’t live anywhere but a mountain top)

mountain

5) The End of the World… or, for bonus points, The World NOT Ending (it may look like the world has ended, but there is always a soft place to land.)

falling

6) Silly

Roses are red,

violets are blue.

I f&*king hate winter.

The End.

~~~

Well, now that WAS fun…..hope you all take a minute or two to participate!!

Requesting a favor

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Hello to all of my blogging, Facebook and Twitter friends.  I am appealing to you for a bit of help.  I have started a new blog for Shamrock Lodge (my new job) and would love and appreciate it if you could check it out and follow if you could.  The more exposure we get, the longer I get to keep my job.  😉

Here is a picture of where I get to go every day to work, and below is the link to the new blog site.

IMG_0749

Shamrock Lodge

What rhymes with Mousseline?

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Perhaps I have been stuck in this hotel room for too long and am beginning to lose my mind, or maybe this trip down memory lane was just the journey I needed to lighten my mood.

I will preface this post with a small back story.  I used to work at a hotel years ago and the Executive Chef and the General Manager, both from England, were a lot of fun to work with.  After working long hours and busy shifts together we all became friends.  We would spend our down-time after our dinner shifts by sitting the Chef’s office drinking Port and eating Stilton on Rice Crackers.  Ah, the good old days.

It was during one of these evenings that I revealed  how much I liked to write poetry.  They were intrigued and asked many questions about the type of poetry I wrote and the subject of my poems.  I could not really pinpoint a common theme because I wrote about anything that struck me as worthy of writing about.  It was then the gauntlet was thrown.  Between the two of them, they would choose a subject and I would have to come up with a poem worthy of both of their praises.  The challenge was on.

I arrived at work the next morning to a very official looking envelope on my desk.  The content of that envelope was my writing challenge.  Knowing these boys as well as I did, I opened the envelope with a bit of trepidation.  Written on a piece of hotel letterhead was nothing at all what I expected to find.  It was a recipe.  They wanted me to write a poem from a recipe and, judging by the smug looks on their faces, they fully anticipated failure on my end.

I took the recipe home and vowed that I would emerge the victor.  I wrote, rewrote and when I was satisfied with my final product I took my own piece of letterhead, printed my effort on that letterhead and put it in an envelope, leaving it on the Chef’s desk for his perusal when he returned the next day.

You’ve no doubt heard the term radio-silence.  That is what work was like for the next 24 hours.  The boys said nothing.  I was too proud to ask what they thought and waited patiently until they finally broke the silence and handed me a full bottle of 25-year old Taylor Port.  They had conceded.  I had won.   Here are the methods of the recipe and my poetic adaptation in italics:

maple mousse

(image credit: mapledelights.com)

MOUSSELINE OF MUSKOKA MAPLE SYRUP

Method:

Mix the egg yolks and sugar together and stir vigorously until it becomes white and creamy.  Add the maple syrup and, in a bowl, stir over a pan of hot water, stirring constantly as you go.  When the mixture thickens, take it off the heat and set aside to cool.  Add the gelatine leaves while it is still warm and stir.  Fully whip the cream and fold it into the cool syrup mixture.  Then half whip the egg whites and fold them into the mixture.  Place in the fridge for 1 hour and serve with the Lime Coulis.

Mix the yellow, let it mellow, in a bowl with sweet, Add the syrup, gelatin and water, stir over a pan of heat.

When it thickens, give it a lickin and take it off to cool,  Whip the cream, and fold it in, don’t eat it yet you fool.

Take the whites to make it right and add those in as well, Put this in the fridge to cool and your mousse is done pray tell.

LIME COULIS

Combine lime juice, orange, sugar, cinnamon and water and cook for 20 mins.  Run through fine chinois and add lime zest.  Return to heat for five minutes and then chill.  Pour over the mousseline and top with dark chocolate shavings.

Combine the stuff, although it’s rough, and simmer on the stove, Leave out the zest, as this is best, cook for 20 mins by jove.

When this is done, through fine chinois it will run, and then you add the lime, Return to heat, til 5 minutes is beat, and then you’re out of time.

Chill the sauce, this is boss, then pour over the mousseline, Top with choc, you’re ready to rock, dig in with spoon until clean.

Back in the swing of things

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“Golf can best be defined as an endless series of tragedies obscured by the occasional miracle.” ~ Author unknown

The Rock

(image credit:  therockgolf.com)

After an almost two-year hiatus, I have begun to reintroduce myself to the game of golf over the last couple of weeks.  The hiatus was unintentional – my life was a roller coaster and reality seemed to keep getting in the way.

Before my absence on the course, every day off was spent chasing that little white ball around for four hours.  The thing I truly enjoy about golf, apart from the breathtaking scenery and communion with nature is the fact that the only real competition on the course is myself.  Sure, there may be some side bets with my golf partners, but the only thing I am really trying to beat is my last score.

Last week I put the clubs in the car and met up with some friends.  We went to the course by boat and the day was stunning.  The picture above couldn’t be a better indication of what we experienced since that is the course we played. (I birdied this hole yesterday!)

Although my game is not as proficient as it was two years ago, my muscle memory is making it easier to pick up where I left off.   Each time I swing a club it feels more familiar and comfortable than the swing before.

Being back in the office today and looking at another gorgeous day through the window is tough, but at least I know I’ll have a few more games before the snow flies.  Why didn’t I start this in the spring?

A Broken Heart

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There are three things I know about a broken heart.  The first is it will heal.  The second is it will heal.  The third is it will heal.

~

Written for the weekend Trifextra challenge:  This weekend we are asking you to play around with the following quote:

Three things in human life are important. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind. –Henry James

We want you to follow the same general structure of the above quote.  Feel free to change the subject–tell us what’s important about coffee or houseplants or whatever you’d like.  Or else change up the modifier–instead of telling us what’s important, tell us what’s sexy or overrated or pernicious.  Your last three lines should closely echo James’s, giving us the same answer three times. – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.7JTIHbF7.dpuf