Tuesday, January 5, 2010

The Cost of Penmanship

Now that the holiday season is over, I can rev up again, ready to go the distance.  Unfortunately, I reinjured my post-op ankle, so the limp is back in style, and the "good" ankle whimpers from time to time due to compensation.  I know it will be two years from last June before I'm at 80% of normal on the post-op ankle, anyway, but I had made strides in recovery, and now I'm set back about a month.  At least it's not as bad as the pain I experienced when laid up for weeks.  That was inhuman/inhumane.  Unthinkable pain.  Anyway.  It's not that bad, but it's enough to make me count steps and not take unnecessary ones for the last couple weeks.  Today just seems worse than yesterday, and I don't know why.  Each day presents its own set of challenges.

Take Fifth Grade, for instance.  "Mom, it's just so...challenging," my son says, repeatedly, with heavy sighs and much procrastination of homework.  His penmanship is alien in origin, or at least, it seems that way. If only his teacher were from Mars, then he would be able to read it.  But, alas, he is from Earth, and demands to read the answers in a language and style familiar to this planet.  Why can't they just type?  How often do we read each other's handwriting these days, anyway?  Reality dictates that children must learn to keyboard at an early age anyway, so why demand any type of penmanship?  Bah, why don't we just learn telepathy?  We could do away with the written language entirely, and emotions could be communicated as well as words, better encompassing ideas, concepts, and dreams.  There would be only honesty.  I hate it when people lie.

But then, if there were only telepathic communication, I would be out of a job.  And a hobby.  And a blog!

Never mind.  Carry on, then!  He shall practice his cursive (again) tonight.  For the sake of humanity.  Yeah.  That sounds right.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Back in the (Blogging) Saddle

I'm not going to follow the rules.  I'm a person, not just a writer.  I may blog about writerly things, or I may blog about personal things, or I may combine the two.

I'm not going to worry so much about collective feelings anymore.  Mine are enough, and they matter, too.

I will blog when I'm available, and in the mood.  And when I'm not here, well...I won't be here.

I may not have time to read your blog.  If I do have time, I will.  I care about what you have to say.  But I don't always have time to read the words, or to catch up when I've been away.  I usually will comment when I read them, though.

I am not trying to build up a large readership, so I won't be posing writerly questions at the end of each entry.  If you wish to comment, please do so.  Go ahead!

I may not respond to your comments.  But I do read them, and appreciate what you have to say, and the fact that you are communicating with me.  I adore the blogging community.  And yes, I find it necessary to screen the comments first.

I'm busy.  Make that a capital B.  Busy.  All the time.  But I need this outlet.

And I am removing the gag from my fingertips.  All censorship is out the window.

You can like what you read, or not.  It's up to you.  But I'm me.  And I'm not going to change.

No more apologies.  You get what you get.  You don't have to like it.  But I need to be here.