As I wrote two years ago, "Today is the first day of gun season." When I wrote those words on November 25, 2008 I was writing my first sentence as a blogger. I had been working "outside the home" since 1989 but was no longer, my children were no longer children and had left the nest leaving me alone in my home while my husband was at work. This was the first time I had been alone for long stretches since my son, Jesse was born in 1980. I started writing some poetry and a few thoughts in the mornings. I enjoyed putting my thoughts and feelings onto paper but then everything changed. I googled the name of an NPR commentator who happened to live nearby. When I googled Julie Zickefoose's name I was led to her blog. I had never read a blog but I read hers that day and have done so many days since. I thought perhaps I should try it myself allowing me keep my words in one place rather than on spread throughout numerous notebooks and scraps of paper.
In my naiveté I did not realize how hard it is to write an entry every day, let alone writing something worth reading. With my normal lack of discipline, I wrote a few times stopping altogether when spring arrived and my garden called me outside to attend its needs.
I missed the writing so decided to start over last fall. I had lost the address of my earlier attempt so I started a new blog entitled Beyond My Garden. The first entry was Beginning A better title would have been A New Beginning but I didn't think of that. If you go to the link you can see that I wrote about the day that was given to me. I was pleased that the temperature rose over 45 degrees before daylight. Today it is 79.2 in the shade of our porch.
Determined to write every week day, I left the house each morning to see what I could notice in the natural world around me.
I missed a couple days in December, one when I took a trip to Nashville, then didn't miss any until September when Jeff and I took our small RV across the country to Nevada.
I've missed a few days since, but every day I miss is a loss that leaves me feeling less whole. It is not that I think people miss what I have to say, it is that I miss the process. I have the sort of mind that thinks of several things at once. I often have several books going at once, a project or event for which I am planning and household stuff that needs done. It is hard to calm down and focus my feeble mind but that is what writing does for me. The whole process is a challenge but one I welcome. I enjoy trying to arrive at a word other than "really" or "very." (Really, it is very hard!")
I met Julie Zickefoose last week. I have spoken once to her on the phone when I had a question about a misplaces box turtle. I knew her from her writings, paintings and lecture programs. When I met her, I told her a bit of what she has done for me, starting me on this path that draws me forward. That day she gave me her chair and her salad while she took her place at the podium.
Today I reminisce about each of those firsts, my first blog which occurred during a cold snow week and my second attempt, the first week of this new adventure into literary discipline.
I wrote of full-mooned mornings, skunks and sunshine; subjects that continue to slip into my writing.
Since my first blogging attempt, two years ago, I have added more photography. At times the photographs lead the blog entry at other times it is led by words.
So, again, today is the first day of gun season but what a different time it is. Two years ago it was cold and snow was starting to fall but thhe moon this week was the same one that shone down on me two years ago and last year year though the trees have thinned some.
Today is warmer than two years ago. It is a sunny start to deer season. Hunters had best just sit back and enjoy the sun lest they become overheated in their suits of camouflage, bright orange safety vests, hats and boots. Lean back, look up through the branches, into the sun and picture that day two years ago when the first day of gun season was a good day to stay inside and write.
In my naiveté I did not realize how hard it is to write an entry every day, let alone writing something worth reading. With my normal lack of discipline, I wrote a few times stopping altogether when spring arrived and my garden called me outside to attend its needs.
I missed the writing so decided to start over last fall. I had lost the address of my earlier attempt so I started a new blog entitled Beyond My Garden. The first entry was Beginning A better title would have been A New Beginning but I didn't think of that. If you go to the link you can see that I wrote about the day that was given to me. I was pleased that the temperature rose over 45 degrees before daylight. Today it is 79.2 in the shade of our porch.
Determined to write every week day, I left the house each morning to see what I could notice in the natural world around me.
I missed a couple days in December, one when I took a trip to Nashville, then didn't miss any until September when Jeff and I took our small RV across the country to Nevada.
I've missed a few days since, but every day I miss is a loss that leaves me feeling less whole. It is not that I think people miss what I have to say, it is that I miss the process. I have the sort of mind that thinks of several things at once. I often have several books going at once, a project or event for which I am planning and household stuff that needs done. It is hard to calm down and focus my feeble mind but that is what writing does for me. The whole process is a challenge but one I welcome. I enjoy trying to arrive at a word other than "really" or "very." (Really, it is very hard!")
I met Julie Zickefoose last week. I have spoken once to her on the phone when I had a question about a misplaces box turtle. I knew her from her writings, paintings and lecture programs. When I met her, I told her a bit of what she has done for me, starting me on this path that draws me forward. That day she gave me her chair and her salad while she took her place at the podium.
Today I reminisce about each of those firsts, my first blog which occurred during a cold snow week and my second attempt, the first week of this new adventure into literary discipline.
I wrote of full-mooned mornings, skunks and sunshine; subjects that continue to slip into my writing.
Since my first blogging attempt, two years ago, I have added more photography. At times the photographs lead the blog entry at other times it is led by words.
So, again, today is the first day of gun season but what a different time it is. Two years ago it was cold and snow was starting to fall but thhe moon this week was the same one that shone down on me two years ago and last year year though the trees have thinned some.
Today is warmer than two years ago. It is a sunny start to deer season. Hunters had best just sit back and enjoy the sun lest they become overheated in their suits of camouflage, bright orange safety vests, hats and boots. Lean back, look up through the branches, into the sun and picture that day two years ago when the first day of gun season was a good day to stay inside and write.
2 comments:
How fortunate you were to have met Julie. She is truly an inspiration. ~karen
Humbled and so honored by this, Nellie. I hope you have discerned, through the past few years when The Rain Crows have been invited to play at the Dance Barn, how very much I admire who you are and what you do. How incredibly honored we all are to step onto the beautiful stage you have created. How dazzled I am by your landscape design and your gardening skills. I wish you could hear Bill and me trying to describe the "spread" you and Jeff have created with your own hands and the sweat of your backs. With a push mower, no less. Just please accept this deep bow, better, I hope, than a salad. Big hugs. So glad to know you. Julie
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