The post that is about nothing at all

Nothing except as a useful attempt to avoid starting in on my real writing for the day, the nameless Nano novel that I purport to still love but realize too late I started out on the wrong foot with and am dread to keep writing without fixing first but know that the fixing should be done later.

We had rain predicted for yesterday. We had a few pregnant with rain gray clouds billowing across the sky, but mainly more of what we've had for weeks - beautiful too blue to be real skies. With all the water pouring from the skies just north of us (okay, hundreds of miles north of us, but it seems close in the greater scheme of things) I felt guilty hogging all these blue skies. I might regret that comment later this winter, watching foot after foot of snow accumulate on top of my car perhaps. We'll see.

Rosie the chihuahua is either loony crazy or perhaps suddenly stung by an imaginary bee as she is racing back and forth from the couch to the floor, looping round a cat with each wild turn and leap. The cat is nonplussed, except she's watching, moving her head back and forth almost imperceptibly so, she thinks, no one will notice.

Jeff wanted to go out for breakfast this morning. By the time I was ready to eat, it was noon and I suggested we go out for Mexican food instead and since it was such a nice day, we should walk. He sort of stared through me, blinking and said "Walk? Why?" Uhm, because it was a nice day and it would be nice to walk. On purpose.

And it was nice. I brought my camera and took some photos of autumn leaves, what few are still clinging to the trees. Gusty winds the last couple days have sprung most of them free of their moorings and they're all dancing or piling underfoot.

We passed by the thrift store on the way and I spied a nice stroller. How much? Four dollars. Sold! Perfect for when the grandkids come to visit. Then I noticed some frames in the dumpster and the fellow sorting through them said "Feel free to take what you want!" and so I did. I filled the stroller up with about a dozen frames because who can't use more picture frames and my kids are always wanting them too. Found a few more things as well. They have men do most of the sorting at this thrift store and y'know, men just don't know what sells and what's garbage. And then off we went down the street, now pushing a stroller overflowing with STUFF. I felt like a bag lady. Or rather, we were a bag couple?

I have an online kinda buddy (don't want to claim to be her best friend or anything!, but she's certainly more then an acquaintance... although, actually, we've never met in person. Although one of my in person good friends is actually good friends with one of her good friends and their children are going to marry each other when they come of age and so that almost makes us relatives.... kinda. Oh rats, someone should really sort out the new etiquette of internet relationships!) Now that I've nicely digressed, back to.... I have an online kinda buddy, and she's a marvelous writer. Her name is Joshilyn Jackson and you can check out her website and then, if you haven't already, you should rush out, purchase, and immediately read both her novels because they really are that good.

But I didn't bring her up to mention how great her books are, although I figured I might as well, but to tell you that in my mental flailing around for a name for my nano work-in-progress, I thought of Joshilyn's work-in-progress, which she refers to in her blog as TGWSS. I've been seeing the acronym here and there over months of reading her blog. I've never really thought about what it might stand for before and then yesterday, suddenly, I thought of it and realized at the same moment that it simply must stand for The Girl Who..... what. Something Something. No.... The Girl Who Saw Spirits? The Girl Who Sang Slowly? The Girl Who.... I couldn't get it out of my mind. Who cared about my pitiful untitled plot anymore.

I thought about asking her what it stood for but decided that was presumptuous. I mean, I know how I am about my writing. Sort of superstitious and secretive. If she'd wanted us to know what it was, she'd have told us, right? And then, accidentally, I found myself on her Bio page instead of her blog page and there it was - the name! Written out for the entire world to see. And now, dang, I know it and I can't obsess about it anymore and so I'm back to - what do I name my own story!?

William came home from school today and didn't say hi. He just went straight through the livingroom, James in tow, into his room, door shutting behind him. He ignored me on the couch. He ignored his father on the computer. he ignored his Rosie jumping for joy at his feet that her boy had returned!

HELLLOOOOO! William!!!!! He came back out and stood, waiting to see what I wanted. Uhm, we do not walk past people in this house as if they do not exist until you need a ride to Walmart. You say "hello" when you enter a house and you say "goodbye" and "I'm going to blah blah's house" when you leave it. Or even better, you ask if it's okay to go wherever you are planning on going. Even teenagers. Especially teenagers.

My husband is listening to Wierd Al Yankovic mp3's on the computer for some reason. Did you know a college buddy of his was roommates with Wierd Al? Wierd but true.

Now William and James are going through old newspapers and ..... look! William and James both have their name in the paper in the local sports section. Here, let me read it for:

"Other Child, Other Child, James Crenshaw, William Zekas and Other Child led the defense for the Grizzlies."

Preen, preen, proud parent.

Okay, I can't stand Wierd Al a moment longer. I'm off to wrestle the mouse away from my husband.