Growing up

This morning: The mouse said, "Why can't we (in the USA) spend more money curing cancer? Why do we spend so much money on war?"
Is there an answer to that that I can contain in the three-five minutes before I drop him off at school?

This afternoon: The mouse me said he has to avoid saying words with "C" in them because they make his voice squeak. "I can't say "Ameri-c-a" or "se-c-ond" he worries.
 Perhaps it is a fluke," I point out, "not so much the word as the fact that you are thirteen now."
"Maybe. But it's weird to just say something and have it come out like that."
And there's no answers to that either really-- it's just being thirteen

Perfection

one

single

flake

flutters 

gently 

down 

into the night

followed by another 

and another until the ground 

is dappled with a winter sheet and finally smothered in a comforter of stifling white

 The hold of darkness is released as the earth glows, 

producing an ethereal beauty that can be felt in the silence of the soul. 

Artists and poets attempt to capture the somber beauty 

but their efforts fall short and result in a copy of very poor relief 

It is, however, a temporal beauty, that is there to be appreciated for what it is in that moment... 

Inspiration

If you read the entry for today the moment it posted, you might have seen a picture of KMart, saw a quick post on Black Friday and a bit about what I am planning on buying my son. But then I visited 'Coffee Rings Everywhere' and read Rayna's post "You are what you decide to be" and got a bit of inspiration and thought I might put my response to her story here.

Some years ago I was at an author reading with a friend and we were standing around waiting for the event to begin when some of her friends from work walked up. I was taking a few classes and taking care of kids at home but I had begun writing and had begun to "find my voice." When she introduced me, her friends said, "What do you do?" (an uncommon incident among women) I didn't even breathe before I opened my mouth and said with confidence I didn't know I had, "I'm a writer." Did you just say that?  My internal voice went into full blown diatribe. I did.  You haven't even gotten a check yet! I have for nonfiction. You haven't even finished what you're writing. I write everyday....

And on it went for some moments until I calmed the little nagging voice that wanted me to doubt that I could write and that there was some line you had to cross in order to call yourself a writer... I was a writer and whatever I had to do in order to be a good writer, well it would be done.

So thanks once again, Rayna!

Christmas story blogfest!

Sign up begins today! Sign up in the comments and let me know when you will post your Christmas short story (and help yourself to the badge also!). I'll link to your blog in my blog roll and feature it on the particular day you've chosen and then everyone who participates will vote for the winner by voting 1-5 here on the day you were featured (this is on the honor system I guess- ). Your story can be as short or as long as you desire... 

And the prize will be!! a set of a television show called Key West. If your wondering why you would be interested in winning a set- it's a show about a guy who aspires to be a writer, a young Hemingway and moves to Key West to get go where the writers go and get the energy they had. There's more info about it on my other blog http://keywesttv.tumblr.com/