“The boat doesn’t have a name. I should name it but well naming a boat is like naming a person. Changing that name if you (or the boat) doesn’t like it isn’t so easy. There’s this whole name changing ceremony. Naming a boat requires a kind of commitment that’s not in me at the moment.
It’s all scary this. Bewildering. Do you know how many words there are just to indicate the front and back of the boat. Fore and aft and bow and stern, my head is spinning with trying to keep up with just the most basic of conversation. I knew less about my son’s father than I do about this boat.
So no commitments or naming. Not yet. I’m still learning.
The good news? My boat loves me and is very patient. There’s time.
Maybe I should name her “12 dogs”. ”
The Road Home
23 december, 2009 *
written by Ann (me)
“A quiet place to write.
I need a quiet place to write.
Maybe not with the bells and whistles as on the other site but with at least hope.
This seems to be a place about words and writers. Not quips and Youtube. That’s good because I’m a writer. I should be somewhere about words.
Goal for this year?
Finish the book and get it published.
If you keep reading you’ll find a string of posts that look like someone’s “mental attic”. In a way, it is a mental attic. It’s from my writer’s journal. As I said in the last post, the blogsite that I wrote on for almost 2 years closed. The good news was that I had time to move the posts. The bad news was that it was a hasty move. I kept photos of the old blog and managed to move it to here and other places but for a the last month, okay maybe two, I didn’t write very much.
I was just sad and kind of exausted.
So I wrote, alittle, and have been trying to get my life in order. Getting up my courage to take my little boat out into the world. Like the song says, “… the next thing on my list…”.
Alittle back ground.
I’m a writer. While I’d always told stories to amuse myself and my son, I’d never taken it seriously. Never had the courage to say the words outloud. Then one day I sat down and had one of those “talks” that a person can have with themselves. You know the kind where you say, “This isn’t working out quite like I’d hoped.” It wasn’t. I guess then I made a kind of choice and decided that maybe I should chuck out the old “to do” list and just start doing things that felt right. By accident I found a blog and began to just write stuff down. It felt right. The original goal was to keep a writer’s journal for a year. The result was “12 dogs and a blog”.
I miss that blog.
Now I’m starting over. It’s good in a way. I was ready to try something new and losing the old blog force me to do so. Well that and the sailboat.
So that’s where we are.
You’ve got a middle aged woman with a sailboat, a surly but lovable son, two finches, a whole lot of dogs that I can’t seem to part with, and my second life.
Mom, short story fiction/poetry writer, and owner of Tanglewoods.
I need a name for the boat. Any ideas?
Later I’ll post the first blog post of the old blog. It’s a kind of resume of my life to date. But it won’t be the old blog. I sat in the same chair that got me on this path and had another one of those conversations. This time the list of things that just wasn’t working out was MUCH smaller and the list of things that were was growing longer.
Sorry but my son just asked me, “What is energy?” This might take a while because he’s interested in Chemistry and Physics and while I took these courses when I was younger?
Well it’s been a long time ago.