A reminder to all you Austenites - Masterpiece Theater airs Northanger Abbey tonight, the next episode in its series of Jane Austen novels. I don't believe this novel has ever been dramatized, at least not recently, so I'm anxious to see what they make of dear Catherine Morland and her Gothic fantasies. And stop over at Bookstack before the show for a Jane Austen giveaway.
Sunday Scribblings-Traveling Companions
While I'm not averse to traveling alone (and in fact often prefer my own company to being in a crowd of others) I've become more appreciative of good traveling companions, especially when setting off on a new journey. Two years ago, approaching a landmark birthday, I decided to embark on a creative journey, to take up the practice of writing once again. I ventured into the blog world, clueless and wide eyed, wandering aimlessly for a while through a totally foreign landscape. Before long, however, I encountered the outstretched hands of fellow travelers, eager to share their own tales of the road and graciously enthusiastic as I offered mine. We've traveled quite companionably on this creative journey, never interfering in one another's plans, supportive of each one's desires, encouraging flagging spirits when the road gets rough. Small gifts along the way have served to enhance our relationship, friendly notes, occasional packages and photos, and public recognition for faithful friendship and inspiration. This week I was fortunate to be gifted with two such gifts, both Bella and Marcia extending this lovely acknowledgement to me:
And so, in turn, I'd like to pass the honor along to some of my new traveling companions on this creative journey. I've just recently met these ladies, and I'm so glad our paths have crossed.
Sherry meets life head on with a joyous exuberance and enthusiasm, as well as a deep well of creativity, which she shares in both her daily blogs. Her posts and comments always stir my emotions with laughter or (sometimes) tears.
Bella Rum relates her experiences in caring for her aging father with compassion and a good dose of humor as well. She inspires me as I travel through this rather daunting task of caring for the elderly in my life;
June's pithy informative posts, gorgeous photography, and "on the mark" poetry always brighten my daily reading.
And a nod of thanks to everyone on my long list of daily reads, only about 1/3 of which are listed in the Byline's blogroll. (How do I ever get anything else done???) You all make the daily journey more interesting and satisfying.
Godspeed to each one of you.
for more tales of traveling companions, go here
Domestic Life
Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. The staples of domestic life. Whether you're single or attached, childless or parent to one or many, these things never go away, do they? Someone has to be in charge of keeping the home fires burning (once a very literal task requiring a body-usually female-to go from room to room and rekindle the flames in the fireplace or woodstove). I've been "keeping house" for almost 32 years now - keeping the same house, actually, so we've both grown a bit frayed around the edges together. I'm not the world's greatest housekeeper - certainly nothing like my mother in law, who kept this house before me. She worked full time outside the home, yet devoted every spare remaining minute to cleaning. Washing windows, buffing the basment floor every Saturday, removing the light fixtures weekly. She was the type of woman who would make up my father in law's side of the bed if he got up in the night to go to the bathroom (and I'm almost not joking about that).
My mother was quite the homemaker too -it was her full time job from day one, and she took it seriously. When I was a toddler, my grandparents lived with us, and most of my memories are of my grandfather and I playing together while my mother and grandmother cooked, cleaned, and decorated.
Well, that sure isn't me. When I was younger, and the whole housekeeping thing was new, I was a lot fussier. I wasn't working outside my home at the time, so I had plenty of time and energy to invest in domestic life. But raising a child quite effectively cured my penchant for neatness, and I decided early on that it was better to play with my son than worry about whether the sink sparkled.
Nowdays, domestic life just plain makes me tired. It's so endlessly dreary - the same floors to sweep, the same furniture to dust, the same bric a brac to shuffle around from season to season. And the grocery shopping-my god, don't even get me started on how much I hate the grocery shopping.
I have completely lost my heart for all of it.
One day not long ago, I was leaving my mother's house after one of our marathon trips to the market. It was a typical cold, wet, Michigan winter day. My sinuses were clogged, there were huge dark circles under my eyes, and I'm sure I resembled death warmed over.
My mother looked at me and I could see her eyes fill with tears.
"You know, I didn't want this for you," she said softly.
And it struck me that of course she had other plans for me, a bright child who came of age in an era when women were not only encouraged but expected to have more than a domestic life. Perhaps she envisoned me a doctor or lawyer, with a large home and servants to do all the work for me. Or maybe she supposed I would live a single life, and be responsible for no one but myself.
For the first time, I wondered what her dreams for me might have been, for if she had them, she never shared them with me when I needed to hear them. And while she may have hoped my life would be different from hers, she wasn't able to help me see the potential, or allow me the freedom necessary to find it on my own.
And so I have lived a largely domestic life.
But though domesticity may have occupied a fair portion of my time, it has never been the essence of my existence, as it was for women of previous generations. For as long as I can remember, books, writing, music - those have been the things that fed my soul, irrespective of dust on the table tops or dishes in the sink.
How thankful I am, for that has been my oasis in the desert of domestic life.
Write on Wednesday-I Am Writer...Hear Me Roar!
My friend Michele at Writing the Cyber Highway honored me with this award, and I'm so pleased and grateful!
Of course, since Michele is all about encouraging aspiring writers, the award comes with an assignement. I'm supposed to share three writing tips that will make your writing powerful.
1) Keep a journal or a notebook of some kind and write in it every day. Writing "morning pages" each day are the way I jump start my writing. Sitting down every morning and writing whatever comes into my head is something like the warms up we do in choir, or the stretches a runner does before a marathon. Some days it's nothing but drivel, but other days, some really good ideas come out on the page.
2) Read fiction, poetry, biography, essay's. Find authors who inspire you, and study their descriptive techniques and the way they construct sentences, and create dialogue.
3) Write what you know, write what comes from your heart, from your experiences and feelings. That's the only way your writing will be meaningful to the people who read it.
So, how about you? What do you think it takes to make your writing roar?