While the Muse is Out

Updates and simple blabbering

My muse is out right now so I thought I would sneak into Medium and do some blabbering. Not writing; just blabbering. I’m not a writer anyway. I’m a scribe. I just write down what my muse tells me to write down. But sometimes while she’s away I like to do some of my own blabbering.

Earlier today I was kind of frustrated with my muse. She just had me write two love stories in two days! Seriously?

I’m not a romance writer! I don’t write love stories. Having been detached from any sort of romantic relationship for many, many, many years now, I am profoundly unqualified to write about such things. It’s the farthest thing from my mind. Why was she making me write love stories?

That is what I asked her today. She replied, “You’ll write what I tell you to write.”

She’s the boss.

There is a three by five inch index card sitting on my desk with this written on it:

“I want to explore new avenues of excitement.”

I don’t know when, where, how, or why I wrote that but the card has been sitting on my desk for about a week. Looking at it now I am thinking that it has something to do with the big life change I’ve been going through which society labels, retirement.

Everyone looks forward to retirement so that they can do all the things they never had time to do before they retire, right? Once out of the harness you want to roam free and wild. You want adventure. You want to travel. You have a long procrastination list of all the things you put off doing.

I showed the index card to my muse and she replied, “Do you think I don’t know that?”

In other news I am sad to announce that I blew it in April. I failed to achieve my monthly goal for the Global Picnic Challenge. I was just one picnic short and I kept putting that last picnic off until the end of the month. Then, lo and behold, YET ANOTHER winter storm came barreling into town.

We’ve had three very cold days without a peep of sunshine. We’ve had snow and freezing rain. I just couldn’t bring myself to go on a picnic. So I failed. I’m a loser. I guess I’m gonna have to just start my challenge all over again.

Hmm. Now I’m wondering if all the wet weather we’ve had lately has anything to do with the two aforementioned love stories being so wet…

I know it is bad form to complain about the weather. BORING! But I feel compelled to share the fear I experienced with this latest winter storm. You see, about a week and a half ago I planted morning glory seeds in the pots on the porch. I do that every single year. I’m a certified morning glory freak. They are one of my favorite flowers. I can’t imagine a spring without planting morning glories.

Well, those morning glory seeds started sprouting — just before the winter storm came strolling into town. They were tiny sprouts not more than an inch or two tall. I was deathly afraid that I would lose them all to the snow and freezing rain and freezing temperatures. (By the way, they were all seeds that I saved from last year’s vines.) But I am very happy to announce that so far they have all (but one) survived the winter storm! See, even with bad weather there is good news.

But now I’m thinking of that index card. Sure, planting morning glory seeds and watching them sprout and grow is outrageously exciting but it’s not something new! I do it every year. I am not exploring new avenues of excitement through those morning glories. What the hell is wrong with me?

Well, I better wrap this up before my muse gets back. She may order me to kill this post. And I don’t want to piss her off. I want to quickly sneak it in while she’s not watching.

In the meantime, if anyone has any suggestions or prompts about exploring new avenues of excitement as far as my writing goes, feel free to leave them in the ‘comments’ section. Preferably, they should be about things that I know absolutely nothing about. I’m always better at that than things I actually know something about. I want to push the envelope. I want to get radical in my retirement.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. Stories by White Feather

The two aforementioned love stories…