Greasing the Wheels in My Brain

One of the raccoons who have made our crawlspace their happy home.I’m feeling a tad snarky. You’ve been warned. (I’m posting photos throughout to distract you from the writing. I think you’ll appreciate this gesture more later than now but, who knows?)

As a writer, I need to (metaphorically) walk a while before I begin my run at writing. Maybe the tea isn’t strong enough, maybe not the coffee. But I have a routine, as most writers do. This is what happens every morning…

  1. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI take Robert downstairs to go pee-pee, poo-poo and then let both he and Rocky outside for a romp around the backyard. Although we don’t have snow right now and I’m two years older… there are more things that have gone dreadfully wrong, like the hideous secretarial ass-spread but we don’t need to dwell.
  2. The deer need their oats and pellets so they get fed along with the rascally raccoons! Later I’ll post about the cost and therefore the stupidity of feeding wildlife around your property.
  3. The cats require a bit of rearranging now that we have 13 (again)… gah. This deserves its own special rant post–I’ll wait until my meds run out then that post will be extra special.
  4. I slug down two glasses of water, then make either a cup of tea or a cup of coffee–this depends on a couple of things… if I’m staying home and just working, I make tea and then switch to coffee later. If I need to float away from the island for a mainland shopping sojourn, I’ll drink my coffee first. It sounds complicated but it’s really not.
  5. Then I settle onto my couch, where I write, to check if I’ve gotten any email from my editor. Like today. And, I did not because I was a good little author and got all of my work done “on time and on task!” Wahoo. A free day it is.
  6. After checking emails, I usually head over to Facebook where I write some brilliant passage that people hungrily clamor to read, like this one I posted a couple of days ago (which is not really a thought and more of a question): “So, if you were, all of the sudden, a spider… what would you do for fun?” I think I wrote this one after my evening ritual jug of wine. 🙂 (a cry for sympathy and understanding all together with a smiley face)
  7. After this, the workday really begins. I write. I write therefore I bother people with my writing. Hoo Ah!

Many hours pass and I get back to being me again–what we call at the Wingate household, the “mommy.” I’m the mommy because as a primary caregiver for 13 cats, 2 dogs and 14 birds–after fixing their food and cleaning up their poopy messes and vomit–the title “mommy” is the most esteemed one I can think of and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The title that is. Make no mistakes.

But it’s between items #6 and #7 where I grease my wheels. My inner brain wheels. I usually start by writing a poem and because I love you so much, I’m posting the last poem I wrote, right here today. Can you tell me if I was in a good mood or a bad one? Was I happy or sad? Content or miserable? You be the judge…

LOVINGAME by Susan Wingate
Tallow ‘n talc streak her nose.
‘nother fight—
play piggy on her toes.
His ears done left.
His mouth be gone.
No where they sing no lovin’ song.
A game of cribbage fill up some void.
They scratch the surface,
an itchy ‘rhoid.
It grows and seeps and bleeds and pains.
D’ lovingame done lost its gain.


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