One More Thought - The ideas that I've shared with you so far have been kind of left brainy. Why blog? Observe and capture ideas. Place them in neatly labeled baskets. The process of capturing an idea however, doesn't have to be so regimented. If something makes you take notice, makes you look or listen a second time - note it, even if it doesn't fit into one of your baskets. Throw all of these in a separate pile. Ideas like these don't work well inside fences. Ideas like these have a way of turning up in your writing when you least expect it.
You're sitting in the backyard drinking an iced cold beverage on a hot summer evening. You notice Buffy batting around something small, furry and still alive. She's truly enjoying herself. She plays a bit more and then drags the now still small and furry something or other behind the shed. Wham! Inspiration! You make a note. A sip or two later you wonder why...and then forget about it.
A week or so later. Man what a tough day! The car broke down, Jimmy got in trouble in school, the chicken thawed... and spoiled, Suzy's got the flu and Buffy's got fleas. Big Jim waltzes in the door at seven o'clock after working the car show all day long. Poor baby. Course he doesn't tell you the girls from Hooters were working in the booth with him and Ralphy, but Raphy's wife does. You get everyone fed, washed and settled down. Big Jim's splayed all over his chair, drinking a beer and watching the game through glazed eyes. Seems he's got a bad case of Hooter vision.
Time to blog. Time to fire up Mom's Musings...
Long day today... (You run down the list) I'm sitting here in my chair, Big Jim has dozed off. Hope that beer is empty. He has this godawful stupid grin-smile on his face. Buffy's been darting in and out of the living room... it appears she's stalking something. She crouches low, in front of the TV. Her paws inch forward, slowly. She takes off in a flash and lands on Big Jim's chest. Terror strikes his face. Buffy starts batting Big Jim around like a ball of yarn. I can assure you, Big Jim isn't thinking about the Hooter girls, but I'm thinking about iced tea. I look up again and see Big Jim's legs disappearing around the back of the couch.
How in the world does a cat dragging off her mice-kill end up contributing to your writing? Well, now you know.
You're sitting in the backyard............as Suzy turns the hot dogs on the grill, one rolls onto the patio. Buffy pounces on the hot dog. Somewhere on Jeb's Auto Lot, Big Jim doubles over in pain...
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