I had a bit of a writer’s block a few weeks ago. I’m happy to say it was solved by getting totally silly with photo essays. Writing that nonsense opened up the floodgates for me, and my writing area is once again covered with post-it notes that contain dozens of ideas about which I need to write. The photo essays still fly from my fingertips, but the other stuff remains stagnant. I’m distracted by the holidays. Things are just way too twinkly.
I’m distracted by everything December. I type a line and stare out of the window. When I’m done staring out of the window, I repair a couple of my nails. It’s good to keep a nail file and clippers near your computer. Hand lotion nearby works well, too. A bottle of water to spray in the cat’s face when he comes to help me type is essential.
The mountain of packages in the dining room continues to await the paper, tape and ribbon treatment. For now, I’d rather watch this TV show about making home made candy canes. I can guarantee I will never try that, but it’s fun to watch other people do it. It would be even more fun if they would show them trying to clean up those sticky bowls afterwards.
Back to staring out of the window. Maybe I should give up the idea of writing something serious before the holidays are over. Maybe no one will have time to read in the coming weeks. My pinky nail on the left hand needs attention. I’ll be right back.
I lied. I didn’t come right back. I did a load of laundry and ate a piece of cheese. In fact, I left since I wrote that last line and returned and you didn’t even know it, did you? That’s holiday magic.
Yes, I’m distractible. I can’t stay on task today. I haven’t been able to stay on task for a couple of weeks. The smell of balsam and cedar candles demands a drifting reverie. The shimmering Christmas tree needs an adoring gaze fest. Looking out of the windows at the neighbors’ light displays is more important than putting words on a page. There have been winter storms that expected me to come play in them. Heaven help me, but I’m even considering baking. Maybe I should say heaven help my family.
My husband sits beside me, plucking out Christmas carols on his guitar. I feel an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. I think about the coming days and feel no stress. The holidays will be what the holidays will be. Aging has it’s rewards.
I sit with the laptop and stare at a blank screen that will not fill with the type of words I’m demanding of myself. My desktop is filling with icons for Word documents started and not finished. I’m not worried. The words will come.
I think I’ll make some eggnog.