It's been almost a year now since my awakening hour was supposed to change from 1:00 AM to what is considered normal, maybe 6:00 or 7:00 AM. No such luck. Old habits are hard to break. Regardless, I do enjoy the early morning hours. I have a chance to scan the headlines across the country and report all of the overnight news to the one who "promised to love, honor and drowsily begin posting to her Ebay store " before the sun begins to blister our drought ridden north Texas area.
After about an hour of catching up on all of the news from Dallas to Dayton and Kabul to Kenneport and 4 or 5 cigs and two cups of coffee I start to make my blog post for the day. Ah...but it's too late. I have to begin my ritual to prepare for the day's work schedule.
Saturday to Tuesday, it's managing Fountainhead Pools. Wednesday's, it's a full day of maintaining Blue Sky Pool customers. Thursday is installation of salt water conversion systems for my latest venture in the Pool Industry and Friday is an all day assault of the challenges given me as a problem solver for a local celebrity who has hired me to maintain his property. Actually that position is starting to evolve into a several day a week job which puts 9 days into a 7-day week......Hmmmm, and you were wondering where my new blog posts were.
Well, today is the nation's birthday, or more correctly, celebration of said day. Perhaps a day off for me? Nah....not so.
Pattye has opened a new store in Denton, north of Dallas, and today is the grand opening.
Well, at least I made a post for today. It's now only 4:30 AM so I do have a couple of hours to myself. What shall I do?
As my dear departed mother used to say, "if I had my druthers", .....If I had my druthers, I would sit here and write and sit here and write and, smoke a few more cigs, start eating some junk food, have a couple more cups of java and reflect on the news from Dallas to Dayton and Kabul to Kenneport and share my crazed thoughts.
Oops.... I can hear the mockingbird signaling the start of a new day. The frogs (see my previous frogposting ) have started to slow their mating calls and life begins anew.
As Scarlet announced at the end of the great classic, Gone With The Wind, ...."Tomorrow is another day".
Ciao!
Jun 7, 2006
"An endless night...."
We have a beautiful little creek and a couple of waterfalls and catch basins with spectacular fish that runs along the outside walls of our bedroom and past a patio. In the Spring and Fall we leave our windows open so we can hear the sound of the water flowing down the stream. Even during the summer with the windows closed, we can hear the muffled splash of water as it cascades over the rocks. But last night, it was different.....much different.
Apparently, we have been invaded by a plethora of croaking frogs that sang all night and I'm guessing courted each other with their almost screeching sound.
At first, it was kind of intriguing, knowing that we have created a nice little eco-system right in our own side yard, but enough is ENOUGH........... If it happens again tonight, it looks like it will be frog legs for dinner.
The person who promised to love and honor and feed our fish, and I spent half the night tossing and turning and occasionally laughing at what we had gotten ourselves into. This morning, Pattye was even spending time on the Net trying to identify the species of amphibian that had robbed us of our sleep.
Recently, I have been thinking about getting away for a couple of days....maybe rent a nice lake house where we could spend of a couple of days just relaxing and getting away from the sights and sounds of the big city......after last night of hearing Mother Nature in all of her glory.......we might just have to trade that idea in on a nice hotel room with only the sound of a humming AC and the background noise of cable TV.
Oh, the dilemma.
May 24, 2006
American Idol..........And the winner is..........
By the time most of you get around to reading this, the winner will have already been chosen. Still, when I toss and turn all night with dreams of "Taylor" (not sexual) and "Kat" (maybe sexual....just kidding) then I guess I need to put my thoughts on paper, er....cyberspace.
This is actually my first season to get caught up in "Idol" or for that matter any of the competitive, reality shows. Wow, what a show. I know it is trite but each one is a winner.
As usual though, it's scenes like this that always take me back to my high school years.
I have few regrets in my life and few things that I would like to have a "King's X" or do-over, but one of them was spending my time trying to be "cool" , which I really wasn't, rather than being involved in Drama Club and participating in high school plays and talent shows.
Oh, I don't really have any artsy skills, but I love the stage. I love the magic that occurs when all of the forces come together, when set construction crews, lighting technicians, directors, actors, everyone connected with any performance wait in anticipation as the curtain opens for the opening scene or set.
I can remember my first time on stage, when as a second grader I sang a medley of patriotic songs for the school. Just being behind the curtain, ten feet higher than the audience gave me such an exhilarating feeling. And the applause....that was the icing. Being on stage was enough, but hearing applause....that was great.
Fast forward to high school......Here was a chance to maybe make my mark......did I tryout for any of the plays or shows?.......did I offer my services to work back stage?.........did I even go to the productions? No, no and yes. I guess I followed my peers in making the stupid cracks about Drama Club, but I always made sure I went to the performances.....each time wishing I had been part of it.
In my senior year, I had the once in a lifetime opportunity to travel to New York City and see the real thing. Our week-long adventure took us to the Great White Way where we saw "Man from La Mancha, "Fiddler on the Roof" and the forever remembered off-Broadway hit "The Fantasticks". Whenever I start to sing, "Try to Remember" I picture myself on-stage bringing tears to the eyes of the audience as they roar in approval.
Oh well, another chapter gone by. Another missed chance.
Regrets? Sure. But now I can relive those moments with "Idol".
This is actually my first season to get caught up in "Idol" or for that matter any of the competitive, reality shows. Wow, what a show. I know it is trite but each one is a winner.
As usual though, it's scenes like this that always take me back to my high school years.
I have few regrets in my life and few things that I would like to have a "King's X" or do-over, but one of them was spending my time trying to be "cool" , which I really wasn't, rather than being involved in Drama Club and participating in high school plays and talent shows.
Oh, I don't really have any artsy skills, but I love the stage. I love the magic that occurs when all of the forces come together, when set construction crews, lighting technicians, directors, actors, everyone connected with any performance wait in anticipation as the curtain opens for the opening scene or set.
I can remember my first time on stage, when as a second grader I sang a medley of patriotic songs for the school. Just being behind the curtain, ten feet higher than the audience gave me such an exhilarating feeling. And the applause....that was the icing. Being on stage was enough, but hearing applause....that was great.
Fast forward to high school......Here was a chance to maybe make my mark......did I tryout for any of the plays or shows?.......did I offer my services to work back stage?.........did I even go to the productions? No, no and yes. I guess I followed my peers in making the stupid cracks about Drama Club, but I always made sure I went to the performances.....each time wishing I had been part of it.
In my senior year, I had the once in a lifetime opportunity to travel to New York City and see the real thing. Our week-long adventure took us to the Great White Way where we saw "Man from La Mancha, "Fiddler on the Roof" and the forever remembered off-Broadway hit "The Fantasticks". Whenever I start to sing, "Try to Remember" I picture myself on-stage bringing tears to the eyes of the audience as they roar in approval.
Oh well, another chapter gone by. Another missed chance.
Regrets? Sure. But now I can relive those moments with "Idol".
May 22, 2006
Promises, promises, promises.....
Almost two months have passed and not one word....not one....has graced this blog. Oh, they've been written....I have several drafts that remain frozen and not yet posted....Why, why do I sit here and write and rewrite words and thoughts that will remain locked up and probably not be shared???
Here I am at 57, I think, and still face the demons of insecurity. I was on a roll for awhile. The thoughts, the fears, the dreams, all rolling off of my fingers for the whole world, well my little world, to examine, judge, scoff, question and criticize. I didn't care. I was writing again after so many years.
It wasn't as if I didn't have anything to say. My oral diarrhea flowed like the next day after a bad meal at a cheap Tex-Mex restaurant. I have blamed a lack of time, a lack of ideas, a lack of inspiration for what is actually a lack of guts. I write because I write. I do it for my pleasure and no one else's.........that's a lie.....I write for approval. I write because I like to entertain.
Is any of this any good?... Maybe. But does it really matter. Hell, I don't know. But what is it about one's psyche that makes him want to act on a stage only to throw up right before he enters the scene?
We all know the stories of shy, demure actors and actresses who hate the spotlight but can never get enough of it......That's me. I crave the attention and then regret it when it comes my way.
I had been fortunate enough to have my blog listed as "one to read" by a larger well-respected blog. The honor seemed like enough just to be mentioned. But I stopped posting and now have dropped off of the list. I had a chance to write some musings for a local neighborhood supplement and let it fall by the wayside. I blamed everyone but myself.
I have a novel I dream about writing and can't get past the first couple of pages.
Years ago as an editor for a bi-monthly newspaper I found myself working until the last few minutes scrambling to have the finished paste-up sent to the presses. The deadline had to be met. No excuses. I always made it, but why did I suffer the anxiety of waiting till the last minute. Why couldn't I just write the words, accept them for what they were and begin working on the next edition. Fear of acceptance, I guess.
I guess it's my manic/depressed mind that controls what I do.
I love it when I have 3 or 4 cigarettes burning in the ashtray at the same time. Two separate cups of coffee going stale as I pound out the words still only using one finger at a time. I love it and I hate it. Ah yes, the wonderful crazy world of a writer.....okay, not a writer......damn it...yes, I am......well, maybe...........jeez, am I screwed up or what??
Here I am at 57, I think, and still face the demons of insecurity. I was on a roll for awhile. The thoughts, the fears, the dreams, all rolling off of my fingers for the whole world, well my little world, to examine, judge, scoff, question and criticize. I didn't care. I was writing again after so many years.
It wasn't as if I didn't have anything to say. My oral diarrhea flowed like the next day after a bad meal at a cheap Tex-Mex restaurant. I have blamed a lack of time, a lack of ideas, a lack of inspiration for what is actually a lack of guts. I write because I write. I do it for my pleasure and no one else's.........that's a lie.....I write for approval. I write because I like to entertain.
Is any of this any good?... Maybe. But does it really matter. Hell, I don't know. But what is it about one's psyche that makes him want to act on a stage only to throw up right before he enters the scene?
We all know the stories of shy, demure actors and actresses who hate the spotlight but can never get enough of it......That's me. I crave the attention and then regret it when it comes my way.
I had been fortunate enough to have my blog listed as "one to read" by a larger well-respected blog. The honor seemed like enough just to be mentioned. But I stopped posting and now have dropped off of the list. I had a chance to write some musings for a local neighborhood supplement and let it fall by the wayside. I blamed everyone but myself.
I have a novel I dream about writing and can't get past the first couple of pages.
Years ago as an editor for a bi-monthly newspaper I found myself working until the last few minutes scrambling to have the finished paste-up sent to the presses. The deadline had to be met. No excuses. I always made it, but why did I suffer the anxiety of waiting till the last minute. Why couldn't I just write the words, accept them for what they were and begin working on the next edition. Fear of acceptance, I guess.
I guess it's my manic/depressed mind that controls what I do.
I love it when I have 3 or 4 cigarettes burning in the ashtray at the same time. Two separate cups of coffee going stale as I pound out the words still only using one finger at a time. I love it and I hate it. Ah yes, the wonderful crazy world of a writer.....okay, not a writer......damn it...yes, I am......well, maybe...........jeez, am I screwed up or what??
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