A week ago I was riding huge wave of writing energy courtesy of an amazing writing retreat. I set some goals, all of them in accordance with the SMART criteria (specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and time-bound). I was pumped. I planned out a schedule with benchmarks. I made allowances for theatre and concert dates along with Christmas celebrations. Then, I set straight to work. And it was good, very good.
For three days I chipped away at the book in accordance with the schedule, ignoring as best I could the apocalyptic tone of certain current events. An impressive accomplishment I thought.
Then Friday happened.
Remembrance Day always stirs my heart, more so since my son began serving in the army. This year though there were more tears than usual. I have no idea why. Perhaps my grief was heightened by those current events noted above.
In any case as I settled down to write in the afternoon, I wallowed in a sea of self-doubt. My inner critic hurled all kinds of derogatory remarks my way and I offered no resistance. By 4pm I surrendered, closed up the book and opened the wine.
What rhymes with Friday? Wine!
Saturday afternoon found me again at my writing desk, pen at the ready. Words came, sentences too. But one sentence did not tie its tale to the next. I slogged away at it for nearly two hours before capping my pen, shoving my chair back and stomping out of the room.
The bird feeders needed filling, so out into the sunshine I went. What glorious warmth welcomed me outside! A trio of chickens (not mine but the neighbour's free roaming) danced around the bird feeders as I topped them up. These scavengers were just as happy to see me as the chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, finches, juncos and jays. It warmed my heart to be so appreciated. My mood shifted into positive territory. My write brain began to emit ideas that had true potential.
Sunday morning dawned warm and bright, with the promise of being even warmer than Saturday. Nevertheless my pen was putting ink on the page before noon - a good sign. The sun blazed in through the windows, heating up my kitchen to sweat level. I got up to open the windows ... and in the fresh air was an invitation to come outside.
Knowing that November in these parts is usually the opening of the cocooning season - cold, wet, and windy, how could I refuse the gift of warm sunshine? So ended the writing of the day.
The chatter of fallen leaves being raked together, the hiss of the air compressor filling winter tires, the pulsing hum of the lawn mower and the whir of the weed-whacker,(those last two sounds don't usually belong with November!), were my joys on Sunday as the temperature rose to 15°C (60°F).
I loved every minute of it.
I even got the first of the outdoor Christmas decoration up!
...and decorated - sort of.
But that was before my yard clean-up revealed the best gift of all. Those chickens that have been eating my birdseed were thoughtful enough to leave me a thank you gift.
|All eggs passed the water test for freshness - no floaters!|
I'm sure the cocooning days are just around the corner. I can make up for lost time when the write weather comes along. In the mean time, I'm not going to pass up an opportunity to enjoy what mother nature has on offer, be it a splendid Autumn day or an out of this world super moon.
©2016 April Hoeller