Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
-Thomas Gray
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Back from my Toils
This might start out like sounding like complaining but please keep I mind that it is not. I am doing what I love and have enjoyed most, if not all (no, most) of my time doing it.
I have been preoccupied with readying the books Twice the Christmas and Ain’t Dead Yet for print. I learned a lot of formatting, font setting , and even a little cover art techniques in the process. I’m very proud of the finish products, as they become available. Twice the Christmas is now ready, I am proofing Ain’t Dead Yet now but it’ll be out soon as well.
I’m doing what I truly enjoy. I had envisioned writing, had done some writing int he pas, a lot really. But as I immerse myself deeper into the workings of bookmaking, I feel like I fall deeper into that groove of life that I sought.
They say if you never want to work another day in your life, do something that you love. I have my day job, and I have writing. One goes by slowly, the other I never seem to have enough time to do as much as I want. Want to guess which one is which?
Find your passion. Then do it.
I did and I’m loving it!
Adult Wisdom?
I can be juvenile too. You know, to show how adults should be. You know, how to be how you should, not like you are or how I’m being to show how you are. How else will you learn how to be, or not to be? Exactly, just do the opposite of what you and I are both dong. Then you’ll be like me.
That apparently is my logic in deciding to not wash the kid’s dishes that he leaves in place of watching TV and doing, um, nothing. I wash all the other dishes but leave his. You know so he sees them, feels guilty and thinks, “Hey, maybe I should wash my dishes instead of leaving them on the coffee table or sitting in the sink.”
That’s what I’ve been doing. Is it working? Not really. My sink, the one I would prefer to be void of dirty dishes at all times, now has permanent residents called “his dishes”.
Do I pitch a fit? Just wash the dishes? Continue to boycott the washing of all “lazy dishes”? I’m torn between making a point and making an ass of myself. I’m pretty sure I know which way I’m headed but I can’t get myself to just resign myself as the dish bitch.
To be continued.
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Getting Older by the minute.
I find it amazing how easily life can take away your options if you let it.
Give an evening just a few minutes and it’ll take a few hours. Sit to watch just one show on TV and the night’s other activities are decimated.
I really don’t know how some can keep up with all the new, current, and ending shows and still get anything done.
I think I will have to remain a hermit, as they go in these days. Live on TV by proxy, watch movies on Redbox- forming my watch list by their previews, and catch the quick cast for news.
I might be disconnected in certain circles, but I wonder how much that will all mean in the end.
Seasonal Change
I know the weather will change several times between now and when it does for good (whatever that means), but this morning I made a shift. I hung up the mesh motorcycle gloves and put on the thinker pair. They are not my winter set, nor the wet weather gauntlets that I own, but the “not let the wind run wild over the bare skin below the mesh because that gets cold on the knuckles” ones.
Next will be the change of jacket, and then the coat, and then the coat with lining. All when nature demands it and I decide I will heed to it.
I know the calendar says fall time, but what is real is actual air temperature blowing past me on the bike.
And so are so many things in life- criticism is one think that I think of.
Just because someone criticizes your work, your writing, your life; it doesn’t mean that they are right. But take a moment and look at what you’re doing. Are you riding cold because of denial, or did the weather man have a point. And if there’s a reason, fix it. Not because someone told you so, but because it needs fixing.
But if the sun is out and it’s a warm fall, by all means: Half helmet, sunglasses, t-shirt, and mesh riding gloves will be just fine. To hell with the calendar and to hell with what others not in your shoes think!
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Back From It All
I thought I could maintain this blog while I was out and about, but alas, I could not. So I will claim “vacation” and move on.
Today is my first day back t the paying job at he University and back to my morning time writing. I have begun the editing process to the second book in the OPR series- Cursing Black’s Trail.
I am also working on getting the POD version of “Ain’t Dead Yet” and “Twice the Christmas” available as well.
The amazing thing here at the paying gig, is that everything is still the same. I don’t know why I’m surprised. nothing ever changes here. At least, not quickly.
I feel refreshed. Usually I come back from vacation worn out. But not this time. I feel like the time off paid off. I enjoyed getting Ain’t Dead Yet finished in week 1 and then spending the time with my mom and dad on week two and then spending the “Birthday Weekend” with A.
I am now looking forward to some October fishing before the snow begins. I have another 5+ weeks on the books for time off- might as well use them while the fishing is good.
A Happy Day with the Pappy
I’ll make this entry short because my batteries are as low as my cell phone’s.
Spent the day traveling to see my parents and ended up going fishing in the Manti Mountains at Blue Lake.
The Manti Mountains just happens to be a major setting for my book Ain’t Dead Yet. And the lake sits at about 10,000 feet.
We were joined by his brother, my uncle Russ, and we enjoyed a beautiful afternoon catching Tiger trout.
Russ caught the biggest. Dad caught the most. And I was happy to have at least caught two.
We might be going back up tomorrow and I’ll try to include some good mountain picture.
Riding in the truck, I can’t help but think that these mountains were the perfect setting for the mountain scenes. If the sound of patting myself on the back hadn’t drown out all other sounds, I swear I would have heard Porter and the boys running and shooting up the countryside.
I Hate Packing
It’s such a simple thing. Pack enough clothes for a few days. Nothing really different than anything you do everyday. Pick out some socks, a shirt, pants and yes mother, some clean underwear.
But there’s something about doing it for more than just the immediate day that stumps me. What if I need more. Then I better pack more. But you feel like an idiot when you return home and see the stuff you packed but didn’t use.
“Better safe than sorry.” Advice like that is why I take too many shirts, coats, jackets, etc. I start to look like I’m leaving for the winter.
I hate packing.
Some day, I hope to be so wealthy that I can just send out servants in the evening to purchase my next day’s clothes and discard the previous ones.
Of course, what if something happens and you need them…
I hate packing.
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Not Alone
My novel, Ain’t Dead Yet, published today. In honor of its main character, I stopped by Ol’ Port’s gravesite to express gratitude for the inspiration and to say hi.
Around his headstone, past the well worn grass, the base had been circled with pennies. If the internet is correct, and why would it not be, this means that each one is someone who has visited. I was just the latest one.
Off to the side, someone else had left a six pack. The bottles being empty, I’m not sure who drank them, the donor or the recipient. But the gesture made me smile and again provided evidence that my visit wasn’t exclusive.
Before I left, another couple joined me at the site, they too had been trying to find Porter’s final resting spot.
Even after 135 years, Rockwell’s place is still the place to be.
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One Thing Leads to Another
Phone went quiet.
Found out Service was cut.
Realized bill not paid.
Discovered how poor I had become.
Began to feel sorry for myself.
Recalled song, “Wish I was a rich man”.
Watched “Fiddler on the Roof”
Created blog post.
Mike M Jensen 