Holey Moley! It's A Supernatural Thursday!

This morning I got up a bit extra early. (I have no clue as to why) I've been doing laundry and I'm thinking about holes and decided to write about them.

Yep. Holes.

What kind of holes, you might ask? (and even if you don't)

Well ... I can tell you that I'm not thinking of the holes in the ozone right now, I've only had my one cup of tea yet this morning and right now it's easier to contemplate the holes in my Rice Krispies and what about them makes that inviting little "Snap" "Crackle" and "Pop".

I would give thought to those black holes in space, however I'm still trying to figure out how cyberspace opened a hole and swallowed the last three pages of my DaLDoM blog I have been suffering through for the last month when all I did was click the "Save" button on Microsoft Word. (If anyone has a number for Bill Gates ... I'd like to give him a "word")

No ... I'm not thinking deep philosophical thoughts ...

I'm not wondering about the fact that kids of all ages find a donut hole much more fun to eat than a regular donut.

I'm really not thinking about golfers and their intense passion to find that elusive "hole in one". (Although I was thinking of a particular friend this morning who truly does love the game of golf and hope she's doing alright ... "Hi Friend!" *waves*)

I'm actually not even giving a moment to thinking about that mysterious hole in the bottom of my lip that only opens when I am eating red sauce pasta and wearing a white shirt.

It's a bit more basic than that ... I'm folding laundry and I'm thinking about the holes I have found in clothing. You see, I just plucked from the basket this pink t-shirt with a daisy on the front. It's a nightshirt that was originally a regular shirt of my oldest girlie and passed to the twinks when they were smaller to be used as a nightshirt. It's been a favorite ... there was a struggle to have the oldest relinquish it even though it had grown entirely too small to wear (yes I know ... shirts don't grow, children do ... *sigh* ... work with me here ... it's early) and then when it was passed to the twinks, there occurred regular arguments between The Bickersons on whose turn it was to wear it. At one point the disagreements grew so large, we had to keep a chart of who wore it and when.

Needless to say ... it is one of those loved items. It is also an item that could be worn on Sunday, it is so holey. :-) Seriously.

When my girlie came out, dressed for bedtime, wearing this faded (yet still incredibly bright pink) shirt last weekend, I had to do a double-take and contemplate how best to retire said shirt. I had already fought the battle of the beloved Pinnochio shirt that was barely being held together at the top by the rim, one sleeve hanging down - anchored only by the stiches of thread under the arm. The hem had been ripped and a hole had emerged around the belly button area that a knee could easily fit through from underneath. In comparison, with three worn tears across the left side of the chest and three fingersized holes at the base near the non-existent hem, the pink daisy shirt seems to be all in one solid piece. I realized that retirement is still several wearings & washings & dryings & foldings away for this article of nightshirt bliss.

I'm not sure what it is about these holey t-shirts that makes them so comfortable and sought after to be worn. Yet, if I look in my own closet ... there is a purple and black flannel shirt that has been stitched back together so many times that I'm not exactly sure where the original thread stops and the new thread begins. With a hole in the side, and one at the cuff ... it is not a shirt that sees the public light of day. Yet on a cold, rainy Saturday, combined with a pair of grey sweats (or red and blue plaid flannels, whichever is handiest) it is my favorite thing to wear.

I don't know the reason, and at this point in the morning, I don't believe I really care. It was just something that struck my mind and gave me a thought to think for a moment.

Besides, here's the real conundrum ... why is it I just folded and put away 3 t-shirts with the size of holes that another arm or head could be inserted in my girlies jammie drawer and yet I threw away 1 sock because it had a hole about the size of my pinkie in it?

Oh ... and why would this have anything to do with Supernatural, besides the fact that I wrote this on a Thursday morning?

Well ... I am a true obsessive and I can turn just about anything around to reflect my favorite show and the Winchesterboys. Afterall, as any fan can tell you ...

"Driver picks the music ... shotgun shuts his pieHOLE"

Writer's Block or E.D.S. - You Decide

It's been awhile since I've written anything.

Seriously.

With the exception of a blogparty I threw on TVGuide on March 1st, and the subsequent "answers" post, I haven't posted anything new in over a month.

I can't give a really reason as to why ... it's not as though I've been sick, traveling, extremely busy at work, bailing water from my living room after flooding waters, or anything like that. Actually, I seem to write just fine as I make my way through those chaotic parts of my life. Were things too calm? Nope. That wasn't it either.

I'm not sure how it happened, but I think I came down with a case of "Writer's Block" and let me tell you, it sucks.

Totally.

I write all day long for work. What is so difficult about this? This should be easy ... it's personal. It's fun. There's no pressure and it's not like I don't get ideas all through the day ... I now have a folder and a notebook that I keep jotting little ideas down in, planning to write. I come home eager ... tonight will be the night I will break the block and get back to the business of putting thought to words in a co-herent and hopefully pleasing manner.

Car pulls into driveway and I'm out. Thoughts are rambling through my head. I'm ready.

Computer boots up while I check out the kitchen to forage for something edible to curb the appetite.

AVG runs it's scans, AIM tries unsuccessfully to log me in, and Messenger logs me in and tells me whether my friends are online and how much mail has accumulated during the day. Meanwhile, I'm in the back of the house not listening to my computer as I change my clothes and once again give praise for the comfort of sweats and t-shirts and try to locate a pair of socks that no longer have a hole in them.

Back to the computer, I close all these little informative windows and pull up the internet, checking email and responding to the messages that have come into my mailbox during the last couple hours. Then I check my "junk mail" in case something has been caught in my filters besides the various TVG playrooms, alerting me to the hi-jinx of the inmates who wander about there. When I open the junkmail to over 100 messages from these playrooms, all from the one day, I figure it wouldn't be a bad thing to run over and see what is now burning down, or being blasted by fireworks. (And if this sentence makes no sense whatsoever, I invite you over to my sanitarium at TVGuide. People laugh and think I'm kidding when I talk about my inmates and their mischief.)

Worn out from reading the insanity in my sanitarium, I feel the need to wander back to my kitchen and warm some water for a little pot of tea to calm my nerves, to help me compose myself to write.

Back I come to the computer with my grandmother's pot full of some evening tea. I'm ready. I have thoughts brimming. I am good to go.

Oh. Look. The remote. Is there something on television that I feel the need to watch? I better check ... heaven forbid I miss something. There might be a game show or a reality show that I need to flip the channel past. There might be an episode of David Caruso posing with hand on hip as he pulls off his sunglasses and utters "Ma'm ... Ma'm, here's what we're going to do, Ma'm" while the producers of this highly rated monstrosity let it spin off into yet another montage of speedboats and other actors wasting their talents by posing in ridiculously expensive clothing.

Nope. I'm not bitter about this waste of airtime being lauded and the fact that Supernatural has to fight for every fan it gains when it has more talent, good writing, and overall production quality in 10 minutes than the other show has in a month of episodes. Nope. Not bitter at all. Huh-uh.

What was I talking about?

Oh. Yeah. Writer's block.

Well, it's getting late but I'm in the mood to write. I'm wanting to write. I have words that are ready to burst out. I pull up a new sheet of Word, I begin to get started. I've typed a sentence. Woohoo! Oh, wait. That sentence isn't how I wanted to start this. I'm sure that I can do better.

Let me think on it.

Is that the book I was looking for last week sitting underneath the table by the couch?

It is! I've been looking for that. I wonder what happens next? Hmm. Maybe I could read for just a bit and then I'll be ready to do a bit of writing. Though not as much as I'd planned, but still ... a little is better than nothing, right?

... 2 hours later ...

Crap! I was supposed to be in bed an hour ago! But wait! I'm having an epiphany. Let me just get these dishes washed up and I'll just sacrifice some sleep and get this thought written down. Who messed up all these dishes? *sigh* I should go ahead and fix my lunch for tomorrow, otherwise I'll be running late in the morning again. Then I'm going to finish a bit of computer time.

Open up document again. Erase starting line. Compose another one. No ... that doesn't sound right. Maybe I'm just not in the right mood tonight. Guess I'll try again tomorrow night.

Writer's block.

I don't think I have writer's block. I have EDS ... Easily Distracted Syndrome.

Does anyone know if there's a medication for this? I'd contact my doctor about it, but I'm afraid she's going to want me to write down the symptoms and who knows where that could lead.

A New Definition for Hot Tea

I have a little ritual. Each morning I wake up, switch off the alarm, put on the water to boil and brew a cup of hot tea. The flavor will vary, depending on my mood for that morning and the level of caffeine I think I might need to get going on the day. My mug will vary - I have three favorites, although Thursday is ALWAYS the Supernatural mug. That's just a given. On Saturdays I use my sweet little teapot, enjoying the relaxing time that Saturday affords.

The first cup is usually by itself. Just a warm drink of "wake up" that I truly enjoy.

After brewing my cup, I will wander sleepily over to my computer and logon. I enjoy spending a few minutes waking up and chatting with virtual friends - through emails sent and received. All the while, I am sipping and enjoying my hot tea.

I will usually have a second cup with my breakfast or if time doesn't allow breakfast (meaning I have once again played too long and now am late), that second cup wanders the house with me as I hurridly try to get ready for work.

Whether it is while waking up, relaxing on a quiet morning, or rushing to get off to work, I simply love and enjoy my hot tea. I realize that it might not be for everyone, but it is something that makes me happy. Lately I have been trying some new blends that have added to my enjoyment.

Last night I was working on a project and searching for a picture of hot tea to use. Imagine my surprise when I came upon this picture ...





Yes ... Supernatural geek that I am just sat and giggled.

It's an interesting blend, don't you think?

Oh What a Beautiful Morning ...

Ahhh! What a wonderful morning! I woke this morning to the smell of freshly baked bread, thanks to my good buddy "The Breadmaker". I stood in my kitchen, waiting for my water to heat to make my morning cup of tea, and basked in the radiant sunshine bursting from a gorgeous blue sky as it streamed in my kitchen window. My girlies were still sleeping, so I had my Saturday morning of peace to enjoy.

I spread a slice of my freshly baked bread, added butter and my favorite "homemade by Mom" strawberry jam on top. Taking my freshly brewed pot of tea and my slice of warm fresh bread to my computer to catch up on some correspondence, I laughed to myself as the words from the song "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" from Oklahoma! came unbidden into my brain.

Wanting to enjoy the view outside once more before beginning my day, I open the curtain next to my computer and peer out to my backyard. Just as the verse of the song "the corn is as high as an elephant's eye" bursts through my brain, I view what we call the "cornstalk weeds" growing in my backyard.

Anyone have an elephant I can measure these with? Cause I gotta feeling they're taller than an elephant's eye. Great!

Peaceful Moments Once A Week

Saturday mornings are my favorite time of the week. They are a time that is so incredibly peaceful for me and I am loathe to ever give them up. It is only for something REALLY important or life threatening that I consider altering what has become one of the best times of the week for me.

I used to be a slug-a-bed. I admit it. I loved sleeping as late as possible on Saturdays, never realizing the moments I was missing. Even after I started getting up earlier due to the girlies, I didn't truly appreciate these moments.

(Ahem. It's a bit difficult to be a slug-a-bed when you have a couple of two year olds standing at your face at the side of the bed, poking you and declaring their hunger. But even then, after sleepily preparing the food of choice and properly setting the cartoons to where they were requested, I admit to becoming a slug-a-couch for a good portion of the morning. Well, a slug-a-couch with attachments. Somehow, said girlies always seemed to be on top of me as I resumed my snoozing.)

In the last couple of years, though, I have found that Saturday mornings have increasingly become "My Time". I continue to wake early, as I do during the week, but in an "on my own without the alarm", relaxing, non hurried, don't have to get dressed and out the door, type of way. Standing at my kitchen window, surveying the weather that God has chosen for the day, I make a little pot of tea and begin my day with my computer. I check in on family and friends, I wander over to my little Sanitarium in the TVGuide Blogosphere, make my rounds, and check in with friends there. After I have finished my tea, I might get started on a few basic household chores - depending on my mood and the condition I left the kitchen the previous Friday night. I might spend some time writing, particularly if a new idea has taken hold of my brain and transmitted itself to my fingers. Or, I might simply brew another little pot of tea and enjoy some time with one of the three or four books I always seem to have started.

In any event, Saturday mornings are now my time. While those girlies now enjoy being teenage and preteen slug-a-beds, I enjoy the peace of those hours. The quietness of the house without TV or music raging, when my heart can rejoice and my soul can rejuvenate. During this time, I find peace.

Too Clean

Last night as I was closing down the house and getting ready for bed, I got this sudden burst of energy and finished cleaning up the kitchen. Everything neat and tidy and all put away. No dishes in the sink, no dishes in the dish drainer, not even dishes in the dishwasher. Counters and sink freshly scrubbed, coffee pot shiny, range top and microwave glistening. The refrigerator cleaned out and the floor freshly mopped.

I went to bed feeling good. When I got up this morning and came to my kitchen to make my morning tea (decaf white blueberry - yum!), the sun was coming through the window and everything smelled and looked so nice. What a wonderful way to start the day!

This can't be a bad thing, right?

Problem is ... this evening, as I stood in my nice, shiny clean kitchen debating what would be good for dinner, everything I could think to fix involved getting pans dirty, using the utensils, making the glistening microwave and range top not so ... well, glistening.

What do you fix for dinner and keep the nice and shiny kitchen looking so pretty?

Yep ... you got it. Pay a visit to the local Subway.