Well, after hyperventilating about doing a blog, the better part of this morning, (and not my first go at thinking about it, mind you) it would seem that I have done it. I actually got off the pot, so to speak. Enough of that hemming and hawwing sh*t. My pulse has settled down. Somewhat. I did just make my second cuppa tea, as if that will calm me down. Is that my heart pounding? Noooooo.....
I feel like a little crab that has spent the last umpty years peeking out from under the rock and looking at all the cool things in the world. I admit to being tired of looking. I actually told someone this morning I am so bored with ME. How many times can you lift up the rock anyway? Sure, my biceps look great, but let's face it. I am not getting any -*cringe*- younger. What am I waiting for? What does anyone wait for? A personal invitation? A winning ticket? With all the stars in the sky aligned, then maybe? I just know that I don't want to be 80 and thinking about the same thing...should I blog?? Because by then, I am bound to have all that dangling arm skin going on and I would hate to pinch it in the rock when I shut it down over me in between peeks.
SO NO MORE PEEKING! Dammit....okay. the second ( or third) tea is setting in. Typing will be speeding up and typo demons will be running about misspelling everything. No worries. Dictionaries at the ready. Wow. As if that doesn't date me.
I stood in my kitchen this morning. Ice cold hands. Sweating armpits. Yah. That's pretty. I stood there thinking, going back and forth in my head, should I, shouldn't I?...I thought about a post I read earlier today at an astrology site-it asked, "what did you want to do when you were a kid?" Well, that's easy. I wanted to write.... I instantly flashed to remembering walking to school by myself, in my way cool electric hot pink bell bottom pants, one rainy morning. The road was covered in puddles, a slight mist whipping about in the blowing wind that was lurching my gigantic ugly maroon and green patterned umbrella with the curled handle I was so embarrassed to carry. But since looking like a wet dog upon arrival to school was even more embarrassing, I became one with the challenged umbrella. I stepped around puddles, careful not to get my blue and white platform wavy sole sneakers wet. My bright blue slicker was making my skin all clammy underneath. It was a warm spring morning, after a wild night of rain, and the sky was streaked with reds and pinks drizzled through the white clouds and dark blue sky in the distance over the houses on the little street I walked. I navigated my way down the street and was about to turn the corner, when I heard..."And with her came the winds".
Huh? Did I imagine that? Surely I had. But immediately, I knew that was supposed to be my first title of my first book. No ifs, ands, or buts. It was a soul level knowing at the ripe old age of 10, as a fifth grader. That idea never left me. And I have never forgotten how it came to me that day, on my way walking, jumping puddles, minding my own business.
Here I am now...more than a few years later...right on schedule for slow poke me. Hmm. I'm not sure. Maybe I should spend another 33 years thinking about if I should be a writer. LOL...now that's just funny.
I guess it's only fitting to name my first ever post in honor of that little seed planted so long ago.
Well, I must warn you. I have a boatload of stuff stored in my writing backpack of epics, sagas, and everything in between.
Believe it or not, this will all eventually have to do with garlic, the garlicious catalyst of life, love and adventure. I know you will wait on pins and needles.
Put on your safety glasses please.
Make another cuppa tea and chillax.
Take off your socks, (remove sock fuzzies), and be prepared to go virtually walking about, barefoot, through the fields of green and the tall pokey weeds, together, in this garlic patch, we call life.