I have been an undisciplined writer as of late. I give myself slack since I find it a massive stretch of the truth to categorize me as a writer. And the logic follows that if I am not a genuine writer, then I cannot be held to the gold standard of writers. There can be no expectation nor liability is I am a poseur. But my head feels like Mary Poppins carpet bag, filled with impossible ideas and they jangle around making the most distracting racket. I figure I would try to dump the junk box that is my head out. It is a loose association of thoughts and ideas.

• My father had this “junk box” when we were kids. Every loose screw, washer, nut, bolt, nail got tossed into that gray, lidless wooden box. If he need a washer and nut for a specific screw, we got sent to dump out the “junk box” and find a match. I now wonder if this was a legitimate task or if he simply sent us off with a pseudotask to get us out from under foot. As I picked through that piled of hardware, I spent many hours fretting about his reaction when I came and admitted I was unsuccessful at finding the match he had demanded. If it was a ploy to get me out from under foot, the consequence was that I feared and dreaded disappointing him. I also never refused to try one more time to find the magic match that would please him…finally.
• I have a dense and lucid dreamscape. Lately, I have been in my own dreams, which is a rarity. Beyond that, I have been dreaming about reptiles. BIG REPTILES. Not quite Creature Feature B movie reptiles, but bizarre enough that I wish I could draw. I would love to capture the freaky snakes and lizards that can attack and EAT a wood frame house.
• No denying that we are squarely in the land of puberty. The testosterone haze is undeniable. But, I don’t understand why boys cannot be convinced to wash their faces and address their acne. Our face makes our first impression. It does not require beauty or handsomeness, but facial scars cannot go unnoticed. Washing your face and treating acne is not effeminate. Can I buy billboard space?
• I wish I was clutter blind. Clutter makes me crazy. I feel clutter: behind closet doors, under beds, out in the garage….it grates on me. I do not have OCD, because 99% of the clutter is of my own creation….but I have a clutter threshold, a clutter saturation point. I am about at that point and like sugar in solution that precipitates out into rock candy…my clutter feels like it is congealing into one blobby mess.
• Virtual high school is cool. Cam started his Honors Biology through Florida Virtual School. I think….dare I say it lest I jinx it….he is working ahead and…….eager [shush]…..it makes me happy, thrilled and reassured he has the makings of a really good student.
• I like iTunes. I like iTunes Genius. I found Salif Keita. Then another blogger mentioned Juju Orchestra. Genius says you might like this…… Then I look to see if Bitter:sweet has anything new and Genius suggests that……what I skip and hop over lands me on Tosca. In medical school, I listened to Narada while I studied. While I was writing Breaking Grace, I listened to Stephen Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians. I needed something new to shift my head out of Grace’s world and into the world of my new characters. Tosca is a good start.
• I am daydreaming about my newest quilt project. I have yet to put shears to fabric but I am close. I will be in Orange Park Saturday and hope to go to the quilt store over there to peruse their selection. I keep seeing the pale icicle blue color I want in my new bedroom.  The bedroom in my future home. I have sent the plans to the engineer to give me structural and wind load reports. Each baby step gets me closer, like a mansion built of Legos.
• I got a few new succulents today to add to our patio flora-rama. I potted them and hope to get good photographs this weekend. This is the patio area at its inception.