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bemol Ardiente

My Own Back Yard

October 19, 2016 Earnest Painter

Coffee on my back porch

Writer's Block. That's something that is written about, presumably by people who can't think of anything else to write. But, it's a real thing. I'm certain that there are ways to overcome it – to write through it, or take a vacation. How effective are these things? I suppose it depends on the reason for the block on the first place.

Under the instruction of the oh-so-inspiring Kristen Lamb, I am writing in my blog more frequently. Some days I post simply a picture, but I try to keep something new going on every few days. I don't want days of pictures in a row, though, so I do want to write something worth reading at least once a week. Back when I viewed my blog as simply a place to express myself and to practice writing I could go for weeks, months or even a year without posting anything. The plus side to that was that I only posted when something moved me to write, so there is more substance in what I've written there. Now that I'm trying to write more often, I sometimes get stuck. I can't think of anything interesting or moving, or I simply don't feel like writing. (This is not very different than my simply not wanting to go into work.) 

I watched an interview with Stevie Nicks once and she was talking about writer's block and her writing style. When she wrote a song, she said, she wanted to capture the emotion of a moment in her music, even if it was something as small as the look in a little girl's eye. She said that she didn't want to try to force writing, that if she didn't have that inspiration she'd rather not write at all, even if it meant ten years without creating a new song. But then, after ten years she might remember that little girl's look and it might inspire a song.

This has kind of been my approach to writing. The biggest difference is that Stevie Nicks is a hugely successful, internationally known superstar who's written God-only-knows how many songs that she and other people have sung. I've written a few blog posts. Looking at this comparison, I'm beginning to think that there might be something else I could do. I don't know exactly what would push me over the edge of success. I could keep at it the way I'm doing, but historically that has not brought me monetary reward.

One thing I could do, though, would be to get out more. I could go out into the world and see more things and then I'd have more to write about. Aside from occasional writer's block I also struggle with my weight, so this could be beneficial in more than one way. I would be walking around my town; through its streets and parks. I would not be sitting down as much and I'd be burning more calories than I consumed. On top of that, I'd have more to fodder for stories and essays.

One of my favorite contemporary writers is Tom Cox, who lives in southern England. He writes in his blog, and his books seem to be compilations of those blog posts, with a little extra for your trouble. He goes for long walks through the English countryside and wilderness, and a lot of what he writes about is that. He has the advantage of the historic English countryside with its stone walls, its castles and old houses that were around before a European ever set foot on this part of Texas. But, that's not to say that I can't get out and see what's around me. I can get to know the history of my town. I can walk the highways and roads through Lund and Kimbro and try to see where these towns were, back when the Swedish people settled them. (New Sweden is another town lost in that area.) As far as I can tell they are now just signs on a signpost, and a modern one at that – not the really cool fingerpost that Americans are convinced direct travelers through the small lanes leading from one English village to another.

I'm not sure why this table is planted (literally) in the back yard, but the tile that we put on it has become weathered in a very nice way.

With that in mind I was taking pictures in my back yard the other day. It's amazing what you can see if you look around you, particularly in an old house like this, on a couple of acres. Other people's ideas and projects sitting forgotten, falling apart. Flora that want to retake the land and require constant attention to keep it in check. Animals and evidence of them are everywhere. Textures, colors... an album full of photographs without having to walk off of my property. Stories of snakes in the woodpile and rodent skeletons. Perhaps our little house is more interesting than a lot of others in our neighborhood, but there are still things to see if I walk around. I believe that will be my focus.

Until later, I leave you with this.

One of the stray cats that lives in our back yard has a toy mouse. After a recent rain I found him under an esperanza plant, looking very much like a Velveteen Mouse.

Tags Back Yard, Writing, Writer's Block, Cats, Cats in the Sun, Cat Toys, Esperanza
4 Comments

My Baby Is Home

September 18, 2016 Earnest Painter

Kittens are almost never still. This photograph was a small miracle.

When I adopted my first kitten I thought they were for petting. Carmela was a beautiful fluffy white baby kitten with brilliant blue (and slightly crossed) eyes. She was part Siamese (frost point is what my friend, Richella, told me) and she had other ideas about the natural relationship between a human and a kitten. She thought that kittens were for ripping the arms off of humans. It was all in fun, and she was convinced that this was the proper way to play. So, for the first year I perpetually had scratch marks on my forearms. I did my best to understand how we were supposed to get along. I thought I was supposed to brush her; she thought I was trying to kill her and she reacted accordingly.

Out of chronological order, but it shows her eyes.

I bought her a few toys, but she really wanted interaction with me. She enjoyed playing with bottle caps because they make a noise when she swatted them around. She enjoyed the toy that I strung up underneath the table. Among the toys that I bought her was one that was like a mouse with feet at the end of long spiral legs and a string for the human to hold on to. This was pretty much her favorite. She'd come into the room and drop it on the floor and meow. (When a person is just waking up, it very much seemed like it was a real mouse.) She wanted to play with the mouse with me. Toys did not relieve me of my responsibility to keep her entertained – it was just another method.

Kitten #2 - Anastasia, as a grown cat.

That journey began in 2003. In 2005 I decided that Carmela needed a friend while I worked, so I adopted a new kitten - Anastasia. I have been told, and I have read, and the good people at the Humane Society assured me that the best way to bring another cat into a cat's life is to bring it as a baby kitten. There's also the part about leaving them in separate rooms and taking it slow that way, but there is supposed to be something about adult cats and kittens that will help them bond. This may very well be true. However, it was not true in my case - in Carmela's case. She despised this new creature and did her best to pretend it didn't exist. The new creature was busy being a kitten and couldn't help but be adorable, and couldn't help but get on Carmela's nerves. They fought for six years.

Kitten #3 - Raku, almost fully grown.

It just so happened that about six years later I allowed myself to be tricked into adopting yet another kitten – Raku. This one more or less broke the tension. Anastasia and Raku played with each other and left Carmela alone. This was good because Carmela was actively pretending that she was the only cat in the place anyway. If she walked around a corner and came fact-to-face with another cat, she was completely taken aback and hissed. Even after all of those years of living with said other cat she wasn't used to sharing the home. Carmela just slept in the guest bedroom and sometimes in the living room. She resigned herself to not being in my bedroom with me, because she wanted to avoid having to admit that there were two other cats in there.

Carmela asleep in the living room, pretending that she's an only cat.

I now live in Elgin again and I have my own room. It's a large room – very deep – but all three cats are in there with me. (This is because there are 5 other cats in the main house, but that's another story for another time.) Carmela has lived on the sofa and the other two cats trade off sleeping on my bed and on the cat tree by the window. That's how it's been for over two years, until now...

Carmela in the morning, allows me to pet her as long as she can't see it happen.

Carmela has started to meow again. (After being spayed, she almost completely stopped talking.) She hasn't let me pet her for the majority of her life, but little by little she recently started. First I was only allowed to pet her with my feet. Now, when I sit on the sofa with her and read she lets me pet her, as long as she's not looking directly at me while it's happening. Then, about two weeks ago she jumped up on the bed with me in the morning. She let me pet her, nay she demanded it. Now, when I wake up she's curled up next to me, touching my back.

She moved her favorite mouse toy to my bed. My baby has come home.

The other day I walked in and found this on my bed – the mouse toy she's had her whole life. She usually kept it with her on her sofa, but I guess she has officially moved back in with me on the bed. And, after all these years, it's still her favorite toy. She's 13 years old; I can see her spine a little more than I use to. But, her blue eyes are just as bright and (just as crossed) as ever. Hearing her purr again after all these years makes me happy. I'm not a bad cat daddy after all.

Carmela, helping me write this blog post while Anastasia eats.

Tags Cats, Kittens, love, Rather Earnest Painter, Earnie Painter, Cat Toys
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