Why I Can't Write Right Now

I’ll get started as soon as I vacuum under my bed. Where do all these dust bunnies come from? It’s as if they’re breeding under there.

That looks much better, but I really should put fresh sheets on all the beds. (According to Oprah, and my mom, bed sheets should be changed at least every two weeks).

Well that’s done, but now there’s a heap of laundry to do. It won’t take long to do a few loads of wash. While I’m waiting for the last load to finish, I’ll bake some chocolate chip cookies.

Mmmm, they smell delicious. I’ll just sample one or two – they’re actually pretty small compared to those giant cookies that I buy at the Superstore. That reminds me. I’m almost out of bread and milk.

The lineups at the grocery store were ridiculous. I waited for 15 minutes, but I did learn that Brad and Angelina might be breaking up. Now that I’ve put away the groceries and washed out the vegetable drawers in the fridge, I should brush my cat. The poor thing craves attention. I’ll pull her homemade yarn snake around the house so she can chase it. She really needs to exercise – she’s becoming the size of a raccoon.

She seems much happier now, even though her expression hasn’t actually changed. It’s 3 o’clock – time for tea and 30 minutes of HGTV.

Wow, look at the time. I’ve got to make supper. I’ll do some writing this evening.

It took almost an hour to make lasagna, plus another hour to eat, and then clean up the kitchen. I wonder what’s playing at the theatre – I’d really like to see The Lovely Bones. No. I’ll stay in and get something accomplished.

I’ll just play a couple of quick games of Wii tennis with Leroy and Ryan; then I’ll devote at least an hour to writing.

I’m exhausted, and I think that I pulled a muscle in my right arm when I served the ball during the last game. I better take it easy and go to bed at a reasonable time so that I’ll be well rested for tomorrow. I’ll have the whole day to write… unless I decide to go buy a new pen.

A Redo of "I do"

This poem came to me one cold night, as I was trying to fall asleep.
I wrote it for my husband, Leroy.




If I could travel
back in time
to the day
I said, “I do.”

To the moment that
I was a bride
I would change
a thing or two.

No, I wouldn’t
change my dress
because it fit
me to a T.

With empire waist
and beaded lace
hand sewn
by yours truly.

No, I wouldn’t
change the guest list
of flirts and
gents well dressed.

But I would make
one revision
to the vows
that you expressed.

A rewrite that would
help me now
as I pull
the covers tight.

A promise that
you’d warm my feet
with yours
on winter nights.