Mother’s Day

Long ago, I decided to celebrate holidays however I wanted. Otherwise, what was the point? It wouldn’t be much of a holiday if I spent it trying to live up to some set of societal expectations, would it?

So this was how I spent Mother’s Day.

In the morning, I asked for perfect quiet so I could work on the Secret Project, which is due on Monday. I still can’t talk about the Secret Project. There is only one person, other than the publisher, who knows about it and who actually partially inspired it. But I did recently notice something that the publisher posted, and that provides the only hint I’m going to give you now. If you’re interested, click here.

Then we had lunch, with everything I had requested: corn and pepper soup, roast beef sandwiches, chocolate mousse cake. Ophelia had picked out a bunch of tulips, and I put them into a white stoneware sugar bowl I had bought long ago. It had been missing its lid, but I thought it would be perfect for flowers. And so it is.

She has good taste in tulips, doesn’t she? Going for the dusky orange.

Then, I went to pick out my present. That’s another thing I decided long ago, that I was going to buy my own presents. That way, I would be sure of getting what I wanted. And what I wanted this time was a digital camera, because mine is so old. So I went to Best Buy, and now I have a brand new Olympus that can even take short videos. With all of its accessories, it was about $150, but I think of that as a business expense. After all, I’m going to Wiscon in two weeks. I’m going to need a camera.

Later today, I have more work to do on the Secret Project. I’m going to tell you about it soon, I promise. Sometimes, as I work on it, I wonder what its partial inspirer will think. I’ll know eventually, I suppose.

And even later today, when the house is quiet, I’m going to record some of the poems I have online. I’ve been meaning to do that for a while, and I should have some time tonight. It won’t take long.

I’ll post those when they’re done, and you’ll be able to hear me read some poetry.

That was what my Mother’s Day looked like. Tomorrow, more work to meet my deadline. And then I have to finish my teaching work for the semester. And then I have another deadline to meet, for the last dissertation chapter. It’s a lot, I know, and it may sound as though I didn’t have a Mother’s Day, exactly. But you see, this is what I want to do. If I had free time, time to spend exactly as I wanted, I would think up new projects to work on. That’s the way I am.  Sometimes I think I get bored more easily than other people, or that I wasn’t made for ordinary, everyday life. What is this, I ask myself – this relentless drive to create, to become, to live intensely? Although if you saw me this morning, sitting for hours in front of the computer, just typing, you wouldn’t think I was living intensely. Unless you could see into my mind, see that at every moment I was creating a story, living in my characters. Thinking, feeling. Sitting perfectly still, only my fingers moving, but completely alive.

That was my Mother’s Day. May every day be as productive.

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