ramble
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Is it Worth the Time to Write?
My days are full.
I homeschool my younger two kiddos while trying to keep up with the school schedule for my high school kiddos. Afternoons are filled with sports, often four kids in four different activities. We live on a small farm with a horse, twelve sheep, a pig, two steers, two dogs, three cats and a guinea pig. This time of year the lawn always needs mowed and the lawn mower always needs fixed. The house…well, we don’t have a housekeeper and it shows. I could go on, but I believe you understand.
I’m swamped.
Is it even possible for a busy mom to find success in publishing?
Don’t count me out. Writing isn’t my hobby.
Most of us have a passion, something that’s part of who we are. Honestly, I believe that we all do, but my husband insists I’m mistaken. If you’re a runner (beyond my understanding), you run. If you’re a hunter, you hunt. If you’re an artist, you find time to create.
I AM a writer.
During seasons of our lives, such as when our kiddos are small, these passions may have to be modified. But modified doesn’t equal removed. Yes, sleep is important, but so is not losing who we are, that unique spark that God gave us.
Each day there are sacrifices I make to write. I work very hard to be sure the sacrifices are my own and not my children or my husband’s. That’s not always possible. When I leave town for a conference, they must take over. It’s a gift they give to me.
I’m not involved with a lot of church activities. A lunch with a friend is a very rare treat. When my kids are off having their own lives, I strap my fingers to the keyboard rather than take a nap or watch a film.
There are crumbs on my counter, no towels in the upstairs bathroom, the flowers in the vase are dead and no, that’s not a blanket over the television, that’s dust.
And I’m happy.
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People Watching
My oldest daughter and I were able to join kids and moms from our homeschool group for a field trip to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. The students studied Romeo and Juliet and were fully prepared to understand the play. After the curtains closed, we went to the lobby where one of the actors came out to answer questions. As the kids listened, I walked to a tall window and took in the view.
Ashland is a magical place, designed for people watching. As I watched an elderly couple walking together, I took note of how he tipped his head toward her and the way they navigated the brick walkway. They disappeared and my attention was drawn to a leaf-bare tree. I imagined how my protagonist would sketch the long reach of branches, and how she’d desire the supplies to add color to the background.
That’s when another couple walked by below the window. This young couple looked familiar and on my second glance I realized they were a prominent pair from the play we’d just seen. As the young woman came closer, I saw a cigarette in her hand. She took a long drag as she passed a white sign with bright red lettering, NO SMOKING.
Ten feet further and she tossed the butt toward a grate.
Only twenty minutes earlier she’d been someone else.
How often are we like that actress? Do we perform out in the world only to remove our masks at home for our families?
Well, that’s just something I was thinking about. Those of you who keep popping in here to read my random rambles are real troopers. Thanks!
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Sunshine!
The sun finally made a full appearance in Oregon. After months of gray, this is an event that should close businesses, stop the presses and halt all indoor activities. We should have a special name for those first sunny days. I’m thinking something like…We Survived Day. Okay, maybe not that, but I’m just beginning to get caught up on my vitamin D so you’ll have to forgive me. Here’s a few shots that show how the Nelsons enjoyed the sunshine.
Jason brought home a trailer load of hay. This is me “helping” with the unload.
Dug this beauty out of the garden. Yes, I do know they grow better if left in the ground, but isn’t it amazing?
Bella gets very excited about trailers loaded with hay. Eating is her very favorite use of time.
Under all that straw is Hazel, Joshua’s 4H project. I’m afraid I’ve already formed an attachment to her. She’s the sweetest pig we’ve ever had.
And she’s awake! Hazel loves people. This is the first year we’ve had only one pig. I worried that she’d be lonely, but she’s seems content to let us scratch her back, socialize with the horse, sleep and eat.
Here’s Hazel with her buddy, Bella.
A weird shot of me with my youngest daughter.
Two oak trees fell with the last round of flooding. My husband can’t wait to get started with the chainsaw, but first we’re going to use the tree as a backdrop for our family pictures. Marci, of MarciB Photography, will be snapping some shots of our crazy crew very soon.
The rain keeps returning, but each downpours seems a little shorter than the last. I believe spring is really here.
What’s your favorite time of year?
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Digging Up Seeds
I had a dream the other night that, for the most part, isn’t unusual for me this time of year. I knelt in the dirt digging around to find the seeds I’d planted days before. No, that’s not just a dream. I really do that. But in my dream I found a pea spreading out in the earth. I picked it up and placed it in my palm. As I stared a bright green sprout burst forth and grew toward the sun.
I don’t know that the dream had any particular meaning, but I woke up happy.
Yesterday, I was really out in my garden. And I was really digging up my seeds. Don’t judge me! I never claimed to be a patient woman. Anyway, I think I expected to see the growing seed again. But instead I found a bunch of half-eaten peas and a few that were just beginning to show signs of life.
Bummer. But I probably planted fifty peas, so I think I stand a good chance of harvesting at least a few yummy treats.
The moral of the story (if this silly story even has one): Even in my impatience sometimes miracle happen or it’s important to plant a lot of seed.
You decide.
It certainly applies to my writing. Every once in a while, usually about the time I’ve given up, I receive some kind of request or encouragement that I hadn’t expected. I love those days!
As for the second moral, in publishing it pays to sow a lot of seeds. Maybe one will take off.
What do you think?
