I had a great aunt named Selma Serena. I thought Serena was a beautiful name and I thought it meant lilac in the Nordic languages. When visiting Swedes sang a song about lilacs, I thought they were singing about a flower, and a girl, named Serena. It was only very recently I realized that the word for lilac in Norwegian, Swedish, etc. is syren (or syrena) which is close to our syringa, the scientific name for lilac. One learns something new every day.
I love everything about lilacs, the scent, the colors (lavender, white, purple, pink and primrose), and the fact that they are hardy enough to thrive in our northern winters.
This is a site I discovered that discusses all manner of alternative and conventional approaches to health issues. What caught my eye was the recipe column, and a recipe for veggie fritters that I am dying to try. The recommended vegetables include sweet potatoes, carrots, zucchini and green peas. Other ingredients are almond meal, egg whites, and coconut oil. These look to be a tastier version of the veggie burgers you can buy in the store. I think that if I make these I would like to add some partsnips.
If they taste good it would be an easy way to sneak more than one of the recommended five servings of vegetables into someone’s diet.
I found my file! I have been searching and searching. Folders, lists, online storage. So much depended on that file. My writing career, my daily activities, my life…just weren’t the same. I needed that file to go on. Yes, I did carry on. I went on to the next thing on my list. I worked hard. But in my subconscious, I knew I was being held back by my inability to locate that manuscript. Then I decided to start at the bottom of the list rather than plowing through from the top. And wouldn’t you know, there it was. My file. The words that would propel me through the project I longed to begin.
There is no one-on-one correlation between the work I do and how much money I earn. I am in retail and freelancing. Sometimes my activities are a complete bust . So I have decided, beginning Jan. 1, to assign arbitary values to my work and to make the numbers add up to …who knows? Taking care of myself, my Nnumber one priority, is worth $100 if I do an hour of doctor prescribed exercise per day and if I remember to take all my medications. Completed creative works in any genre are also worth $100. Writing is worth five cents a word. Blog entries, $25. Linking and networking details are $10 each. And items posted on my website are valued at their sale price.
Looking back on the year, I have to admit my writing has fallen off in volume and quality. It was early in 2008 that I composed a story I submitted to one of those True magazines. I didn’t wait with baited breath but eventually, of course, it was returned with a form letter of regret. I have felt distracted. If there is any creative energy in me, it has failed to manifest itself in works I can share. Am I working as a freelance writer, or even a sometimes hobbyist? Not really. I have written copy, I guess, better than nothing.
I have, however, discovered a new venue for self expression….
I’ve heard that computers are like a series of switches. Binary. On or off. The complexity comes into play in the sheer volume of information. When something goes wrong, one has to sift through to find the problem. I am sure there is a usable metaphor in there somewhere, for the novel I long to write, about how computers changed my life. I was a quiet, introverted person, naive and inexperienced in life, a kid, a failed adult whom society strongly hinted was aging without ever having been truly young, who suddenly found myself in an environment that used the means of communication at which I excelled…the written word.
Flash fiction has its place, though there are critics who insist, with justification, that character, theme, and any number of literary necessities cannot be achieved in 500, 1000, or 2000 words. I wrote several flash fictions in an attempt to win a crocheted teddy bear and was quite fortunate to have done so. When the opportunity came up to create short videos in my favorite metaverse< i had something ready to go.
The urge to write a novel is growing stronger every day. Yes, I know. I have two or three incomplete novels somewhere in my files and I should finish those before I start something new. But those are genre fiction and this is serious. The framework of the story incubating inside my consciousness is how computers changed my life.
Visitors to the property ask if the barn is filled with arts. I have to explain that, no, our dad’s name was Art and the barn is dedicated to him. It is impossible to articulate the artistry of Art. He was a wonderful person and he was a storyteller, and so am I.
