Eco-friendly Writing

Eco-friendly writing has been covered by most of the writing magazines I subscribe to with the basic ideas of recycling such as using both sides of paper, using recycled paper, notebooks, etc., and e-mail for your business, as much as possible.

I love the planet earth. For over forty years I’ve recycled and put back. I’ve recycled aluminum cans since the ‘60s, and tried to pass that habit on to my boys. In fact, it was a daily chore to mash cans we used or found. We hunted discarded cans on our walks and my oldest son was able to put away $500.00 before he was two with the money we got from recycling cans. I also compost grass clippings, leaves and coffee grounds, turning what was heavy clay to rich, friable soil.

So, recycling paper and running a green office is second nature. All rough drafts are printed on the backside a previous draft, a slash of highlighter indicator to which is the old draft, I buy recycled paper, I use the backside of mailings for scratch paper and recycle my ink cartridges, as the articles suggest.

But I take things a step further: I’ve begged from or had given to me reams of used paper; a neighbor gave me a case of paper that had the heading printed on the top incorrectly. I refill ink cartridges, where possible, I use pens that use refills.
Then I turn up the recycling and have some fun. I love the swap meet or some call it the flea market. Every Sunday, my husband and I and often, one or more of my sons frequent the local flea market. It’s been going every Sunday since the ‘60s and every year it gets just a little bigger. With all the reality shows on now about the treasures you can find, more people hope it is their lottery. Me, I’m on the look-out for the useful.

What have I found? Staplers, one week, staples to fit them, the next, a sewing machine drawer, perfect for post-it notes, a wooden nail box, just the right size for scratch paper, an old wire desk file, an old wooden desk file, a perpetual desk calendar, a stack of 10 legal pads for 10¢, 10 composition notebooks for $1.00, old paper clips (very unusual looking, an old rolling library table used for a dictionary, a school bell (hey, I’ve used it) standing paper files (I think they’d make great weapons, toast holders (also great for currently in use files, old McCoy plant pots (great for holding paper clips and flash drives), a chamber pot (no, not for use, although I do wish I had a bathroom in my office. I could live there, if only, because I have an old office fridge for water and snacks. The pot is used for my lipstick plant).

I’ve found three ring binders, files, paper, bookends, frames (I never, ever buy new ones. There are just too many great ones for less than a quarter, mostly old and ornate but I don’t care what kind of metal, I just paint them to match.) I have old cowboy hats, spurs, a bridle, and boots, all for atmosphere. I’ve found a paper punch, a paint brush to clean my keyboard, lead for my mechanical pen, old striped wooden clip boards, ink stands (not particularly useful, but I collect them and old ink bottles.) I’ve found old ledgers for keeping track of submissions, old journals for daily writing exercises, an old staple remover, a map flashlight, a tambourine (don’t ask). I have an old music chair for extra seating with the advantage of storage in the seat. And best of all: research books, dirt cheap.

It’s not what you find, but how you use it.

Spring is really struggling to break through around here. I could let it pull me down—the snowy, gray days. By now, I’m just sick of the gray, blah days more than anything and the cold. Worse are those days when it’s impossible to walk outside. This spring has actually been worse for that than the whole of this winter.

The snow is a relief, in a way, at least compared to those sunless days and this morning, it was accompanied with thunder and lightning. Now, that’s more like it. As long as we have to suffer the snow, let’s have a little drama. Snowdrops, after struggling mightily the last few years have multiplied and made their show a few weeks ago, but they’re hanging in there. Kind of like scouts for the crocus, just now trying to brave the snow and wind.

At the start of last week my tiny mini Japanese iris made their quiet appearance, and as luck would have it, I actually got to catch them at their best. They are the sweetest flower, but so fleeting. I love the dark purple with their dots of yellow. More often than not though, I miss them. They are so early in the year I’m not even walking around my yard looking for spring yet, but this year, I picked a few and they lasted in my office several days.

The garlic is up. I’ve worried over them all winter. We tried a different location this year, of course, and I wasn’t at all certain they’d like it. This will be the third year I’ve planted garlic. Last year was such a success and a hoot. I planted Elephant garlic, the bulbs as big as softballs, but so easy to use I really wanted to plant more, but I also planted two other varieties—54 bulbs, in all.

But it’s the pansies and violas that lift my heart and mood. They make me smile. All winter long if the snow melts off of the lilac or Japanese maple garden, they’re ready and willing. They thrive with adversity. All I have to do is pinch off the snow-burned leaves or blooms and they send out new, eager sun-facing blossoms.

Last fall I picked the simple violas I remember from my childhood to plant there. We called them Johnny Jump-ups when we were kids, those common little purple and yellow blossoms.

I’ve had at least a few Johnny Jump-ups in my backyard every year, for much the same reason as my mother. A friend of my youngest son brought me a two-inch plant many, many years ago on Mother’s Day. They were giving the plants to the mother’s at church, but I wasn’t there. He thought I ought to have one.

Though I’m usually compulsive about dead-heading, I make sure I never pinch back all the seed-pods on these. I’ve put chicken noodle soup in the crockpot and last fall, I decided nothing would bring a smile faster than seeing Johnnie-Jump-Ups blooming in the front gardens.

Today as I watch fat, lazy snowflakes fall, smell the aroma of chicken broth and thyme, I’m so glad I filled my garden with those brave, sturdy flowers. They set a great example. The chicken soup won’t hurt, either.

Life knocks a man down and he gits up and it knocks him down agin….

What’s he to do when he gits knocked down? Why, take it for his share and go on. —

The Yearling, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, 1939

Godsends for Febraury 2011

Wow, it’s been months since I’ve done a Godsend blog. That’s the thing, isn’t it? You just get so busy you fail to notice all those wonderful joys and graces that make life great. You’re so busy living you don’t take the time to have a small gratitude moment.

And it’s true, I’ve really been head-down focused on finishing the editing on Tie-down Man along with Christmas, the New Year and all the family, cooking, gifting that comes with that. There have been two family funerals, which should remind a person how fleeting life is, but doesn’t always and of course, my mother’s needs to manage. Still, I know there have been some Godsends. This morning sunrise, for one.

I did mention a few wonderful books I’ve read, Godsends for me. But the one thing I promised I would do with each good book I read was write the author and let them know. I haven’t done that. And I promised myself when I was sick that when I got better I would take note of those Godsends. It’s important. Here I am months since I’ve done it and I feel a bit disappointed in myself. Not for all I’ve accomplished. I have done well, but for things I let slip by without taking a moment to appreciate.

So, for this February Godsend:

• Discovering a ledger with my entries from 1983-1985. A small revealing glimpse inside my
family from that time.
• The rereading of an old manuscript I should never have given up on.
• The kindness of Kaki Warner’s encouragement and information.
• Help around the house.
• A good movie, popcorn included.
• A bouquet of tulips, yellow, of course.
• Decluttering my office. Oh, what I’ve found.
• Stories about loved ones I’ve never heard before.
• I can almost see spring, honest.
• Pink and red and hearts taking over the stores color scheme.

Godsends and Thanksgiving

I feel as if I’ve been so busy, this whole year. Being busy is a double-edged sword. I like busy, especially if it’s because I have tons of ideas and projects in my writing—poetry, novels, my blog, several pressing goals or deadlines. The more I write, the more I write.

Besides, it keeps me involved. It ups my production, too, which is great. After my recovery, when I missed writing so much, there is such a joy, just to write.

I want to write even more. I forget there is this other life that calls me, needs me, is my heart. This other life I love, that I’m so lucky I have. My civilian life, so to speak.

Still I find being too busy is much preferred to boredom or illness.

I am never bored, but I certainly do forget things…like my Godsends. I only just realized it’s been months and so many Godsends, since I blogged about them. October’s colorful leaf display, Halloween, spook alleys.

Well, November won’t go by without me mention some:

• Scattered brittle leaves in copper, old gold and bronze
• Wood smoke curling welcome around my shoulders
• Stormy scarlet sunrises and sunsets (check out this one http://http://ourstorydaybyday.blogspot.com/)
• The first spit of snow
• Magpies kibitzing about the free walnuts I donate to them
• Poetry workshops stretching my poetic muscles
• Homemade lavender soap
• The extra hour sleep
• Flannel sheets
• Thanksgiving—in the heart, for the tradition, the dinner and oh, yes, for the writing.

Savor More than Writing

October and my Heavenly Blue Morning Glory is only now coming into its own. The cool spring and early summer delayed my Blue. Though all Morning Glories love heat and need nighttime temperatures of fifty degrees or more, Heavenly Blue and the Moonflower seem to be the sticklers. My Grandpa Ott Morning Glory thrives, cropping up just about anywhere. The purple flower vines through the tomatoes, up the old metal baby crib headboard leaning against the retaining wall and through the Rose of Sharon. I love its’ serendipitous nature. I do, but at times, it’s too much.

I was afraid I wouldn’t get even one start of my Heavenly Blue coming and until just a few weeks ago, I was certain the vine by the shed door would turn out to be another Grandpa Ott. Oh, I planted Heavenly Blue seed there, but far too often, I’ve ended up with dark purple flowers where I envisioned sky blue. And there really is nothing to compare the impact of those satin-blue palm-sized blossoms—like pieces of sky twining on the shed trellis.

The blooms are so fleeting. Each bloom only lasts a day and the plant flowers so late I always feel the need to capture the glory with a camera. I gaze at the silky flowers as storm winds toss their edges, knowing the coming rain will be their ruin.

I’ve tried to preserve the blossoms by pressing them in my flower press, but the results are disappointing. I’ve tried to plant seed indoors so the starts are ahead of the game by the time the night temperatures are to their liking. That, too, has had mixed results.

The Morning Glory show is so welcome, so worth the wait. The rest of the garden looks tattered and shabby. Mildew has muted the zinnias. Petunias are tired. The vegetable garden has wound down which makes for some interesting vegetable heavy meals. I don’t mind, at all. Well, a bit, as I’m an elk-hunting widow this week and I can’t possible eat all the vegetables the garden is still producing. Fall lettuce is coming on, late radishes and green onions make for a great salad when I add homegrown grape tomatoes and olives.

Zucchini is wonderful sautéed with garlic and olive oil. Broccoli is at its’ best, steamed with brown butter sauce drizzled on it. And my favorite lunches is tomato salad made with sliced grape tomatoes, sliced string cheese, green onions with Italian dressing and French bread. Sometimes, I add sliced olives to the salad and toast a slice of French bread under the broiler with any cheese I have on hand on the top. A simple feast that eaten at my desk as I take advantage of the quiet. I hope to get tons of writing done.

Yet, this morning Heavenly Blue Morning Glory pulled me outside, whispering of poems and coming rain. Worse, whispering of coming winter. So, I savored.

August Godsends:

· Summer thunderstorms
· Garden picked vegetables: sweet corn, zucchini, tomatoes
· Porch sitting in the evenings (with a good book)
· School supplies, obviously
· Knowing you must make the most of the remaining summer
· Picnics in the canyon
· The sound of the river (and smell)
· Bottles of green beans from your own garden
· Daisies
· Dragonfly evenings

May Godsends:

• Purple rock cress spilling over a cement wall
• Early morning bird songs
• Newly planted garden
• Warm days
• Patio furniture
• Quail in the back yard
• Grilling outdoors
• Flats of annuals waiting to be planted
• Open windows
• Fresh sheets dried on the clothes line


• 

April Godsends

• Walking in the rain


• A yellow umbrella


• A new, beautiful granddaughter-a miracle


• Spring sunlight slanting over my bottle tree


• Blooming lipstick plant


• A sister’s shoulder to cry on


• A helping hand from another writer


• Finishing a writing project and putting it in the mail-Hope in the mail


• An afternoon nap with the sun streaming through the window


• Green-up

March Godsends:

• Cadbury eggs
• Corned beef and cabbage
• Bare lawns, after all these months
• March wind playing wind chimes
• Thriving houseplants
• Finished homemade baby gifts
• Chickadees, house finch and robins checking out nesting place
• Easter baskets lining store shelves
• A Sunday drive
• Family

One extra: The first pansy of spring

February Godsends:

• Clear, smog-free sunshine
• Longer, warmer days
• An antique fair
• Hearts in the stores—everywhere
• New book by a favorite author
• African violets blooming on the windowsill
• Calico cat purring on your shoulder
• Snow melting off the roof in a slurpy-slap puddle just outside the patio
• Colored pens for journal writing
• A clean desk—finally
  

January Godsends:

• Office supply sales. Office Max has the paper bag to fill for 15% off and Staples has a 10% off, plus they sent me some really cool NoteTabs. I have always loved office supplies and I can never have enough blank notebooks. I love blank notebooks: love the feel of the blank paper, the smell of newness and possibilities but I loved to fill them, too. When they’re finally used up to the last page, I love the feel of the paper with all my writing on it. Even better are old diaries, ledgers or notebooks found in antique stores full of other people’s stories. Treasures.

• January thaw: The dripping of melting snow, the splatter-splash of the drips hitting puddles, the phony warmth, the little peek of grass around the edges of the lawns, the mud showing here and there in my flowerbeds.
  Knowing it’s all downhill to spring now: The days get longer after the 21st of December. Isn’t that a great thought?

• Bouquet of flowers from the grocery, just because: I’m so flower starved by now, except for my hardy, dependable, sweet African Violets, I cannot resist just one bouquet after Christmas.

• My January purge: I always purge my cupboards and shelves this time of year and promise to do better next year. But this year particularly, I can’t wait to do some cleaning out. I wasn’t up to it the last two years and I swear some of the disorganization I’ve been having since I was sick is just that. I feel up to it. Now isn’t that a Godsend.

• Birds: I spend a few minutes every morning with Maddie Rose looking out the big picture window in my dining room, watching the birds in my walnut trees. Robins, common sparrows, house sparrows, black-capped chickadees, magpies, crows, blue jays, sapsuckers, juncos visit to feed on the fallen nuts. I love watching them, but watching Maddie Rose is even better. That window is her big-screen TV and she never misses her morning show.

• Sewing: I haven’t done a lot of sewing since my children left home. The desperation to cloth growing children is long gone, but I’ve been trying my hand again on a few things for a new granddaughter. There is a pleasure in making burp towels and bibs again. Though not as relaxing as my crocheting (I’ve been crocheting every day since junior high. It helped with stress and helped form wonderful friendships with various ages of women. Sadly, most have gone from my life one way or other.) It’s still relaxing.

• Seed Catalogs: Years ago the seed catalogs never showed up until after the New Year. Not anymore. Now they’re in the mailbox early December, but I don’t have time to look at them. I stockpile them for after the Christmas Crazy is over. Well, there they are waiting for me, all luscious pictures and all. Nothing better than spending a cold day in front of the fire surrounded by seed catalogs.

• Getting my little work/desk planner up to date and set for the year: This is where I write down my writing goals: daily, monthly and for the year, where I want to submit and what, encouragements, what I actually get accomplished and how to improve my output. My planner is my writing partner, my coach, a part of My Own Writing Club (I’ll tell you all about that soon).

• Organizing my writing and setting goals: For the better part of the first half of January, I spend a large part of my writing time going through my work figuring out what needs to be submitted right away, what needs more work, which ideas still seem sound from last year, listing new ideas or changed ideas. I try to organize things so it’s easy to sit down at my desk and pick up what’s next to do.

Well, for two years I didn’t do anything about all the work I already had in various states of progress. A ton of stuff just stagnated, some things were just lost. Things were kind of left in mid-write and when I got feeling better, my mind was just not ready to tackle anything much more than this blog. I kinda took up something I heard from Christopher Reeve-Go Forward. I just moved forward and a lot of good stuff got left behind.

For instance, I was editing a Western Historical that I’d been working on for some time that was nearly finished. I haven’t opened it since. I need to decide what is best to do with that. I’m determined to finish a chapbook or poem book this year before December. It’s mostly done. I’m very proud of the poems I’ve been working on. I have several more near completion, many more ideas to work on.

My feeling is I need to focus some attention on all this and I’m actually looking forward to it. I’m excited again about my work. Story ideas have been forming again in my head, which is a relief because for so long it was as if that part of me had died. Now, I think, maybe, the energy for that was needed elsewhere.

An extra Godsend, isn’t it?

December Godsends:

• Flannel sheets
• Animal tracks in the snow
• White chocolate-covered oreos
• Simply awful Christmas sweaters
• Tucked close to the fireplace while snow falls
• Yearly trip for poinsettias and deciding which color this year
• Christmas lights
• Christmas carols sung by children
• Snail mail Christmas card
• My favorite black and white films: Penny Serenade, White Christmas and Pocketful of Miracles

November Godsends:

November has never been a favorite month, though I was born in it. It always seemed dreary, heralding cold and snow. I’ve learned to appreciate it though, to take the little joys from the days and savor them. Is it age that’s taught me that? Being sick and wondering how many more Novembers I get did help me see more to enjoy, but I’d learned before even that. The addition to the house helped, too. More than anyone will ever know. (I know.) More sunlight.

So simple.

In fact, my home is flooded in sunlight now that the south end of the house is opened up, with as many windows as I could put in. I didn’t know why that was important to me when we remodeled but....I, sometimes, wish I had as much when my kids were small, money was tight and I was a stay-at-home mom. There were rough days and yet…not a one I regret.

I realize now, I have seasonal affective disorder or winter depression, but years ago I didn’t understand the gray blanket of depression that would suddenly surround me. Still, I had some sense of it because I stockpiled a few things knowing I’d need them: new houseplants, yarn for crocheting, good books.

I didn’t know about the light, about making sure I had twenty minutes of it every day. I didn’t know to get outside and gather some vitamin D. I do now. I didn’t know how important it was for my well-being writing was. As a young mother, I thought I was doing the most loving, unselfish thing by devoting myself completely to my kids. All my life I wrote through the hard times, except when my kids were small. I thought I didn’t have time. I thought I would be taking something from them. I was wrong.

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for your family is be good to yourself and give to yourself what you most need. For every young mother who also aspires to be a writer, who needs to write to hold on to herself, I want to encourage you to take some writing time. Know it is not selfish. It is brave, and unselfish, and necessary. A godsend.

This month’s godsends:

• Geraniums still blooming on the patio
• Another good read
• Hot cocoa
• Gratitude
• Making pies
• Trying to outthink Mr. Squirrel
• The end of garden chores (as much as I love gardening, a relief)
• Books of quotes (if you haven’t noticed a passion of mine)
• Gathered family
• The valley I see on my daily walk
  

October Godsends:

Quote on my Zen calendar for today: It takes a certain maturity of mind to accept that nature works as steadily in rust as in roses. —Esther Warner Dendel

• A gold haze gilding everything
• The moon playing tag with ghostly clouds
• Crisp air and the breeze murmuring freeze
• Fall pansies
• The scent of dry, neon leaves tumbling down the street like children just let out of school
• Magpies squabbling over the walnuts dropping from my trees
• Pumpkin piles at the grocery stores
• My own pile of winter squash by the front door
• Worn-soft sweatshirts
• Fireplaces

Today, I begin a new workshop Theme Power!: Poetic Exploration in Memory, Love & Longing, Loss, and The Natural World & Awakening with Melanie Faith. I’m excited to do another workshop with Melanie. I think some of my best work I did in her last workshop so I’m hoping for even better things. It’s a busy month and I’ll be pushing myself just a bit.

That might be a mixed blessing. I’ve been so careful, worrying of stirring that giant sleeping inside me—mpgn. The lower case letters are on purpose. I’ve tried every way to minimize this disease. Visualizing my tough, little kidneys beating the heck out of mpgn. In my head, I pile the letters to look like some strange monster, then visualize my kidneys kickboxing the devil out of the monster, first, with the help of prednisone and aspirin—Now, just me and aspirin boxing gloves.

I’ve kept stress as minimally as I can(I’m a nervous kind of gal). I’ve tried not to pressure myself, but as I go into October, there are things I want so to do. I have a surprise I’m working on, and Christmas, of course. And this year is my year for all the family home for Thanksgiving.

I have soooo much to be thankful for. I really want a wonderful, perfect day. Yet, I know I can’t do as I have before. Luckily, I have a great family willing to help as they can. It’s just that I tend to try to do too much. It’s hard reining in my natural tendencies, but I will try.
So, I intend to go to my desk every day, open a vein, write wonderful poems and do it with as much Zen mindset as I can.

September Godsends:

• Heavenly Blue Morning Glory clamoring up my white and blue shed
• Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes
• Two does outside my office windows; not once, not twice, but everyday this month, so far.
• The new slant of the moon and sun
• The garden winding down
• Two red fox playing tag in the meadow I pass on my daily walk
• Sunflowers
• Bringing in lush houseplants that have been vacationing on the patio
• Hummingbirds flocking to my backyard to store up nectar from overgrown salvia
• Slightly crisp mornings

August Godsends:

• Amusement parks
• Baby quail in the backyard
• Zucchini by the bushel
• Patriot Guard doing their part
• Summer tucked in, breathed in, savored
• County fairs
• School supplies
• First sunflowers
• Cricket songs in the hot summer night
• Picnics

July Godsends:

• Red, white and blue—everywhere
• The sight and sound of fireworks
• The garden, full-blown
• The verdant taste
• The neighbor kids running through sprinklers
• Bikes with crepe paper weaved through spokes and streaming from handlebars
• A nap on a hot day
• A family barbeque
• Parades
• Homegrown broccoli

June Godsends:

• The taste of a June morning after a thunderstorm
• The first roses
• Fresh cut lettuce (Cook’s spring mix-yum)
• Tiger Swallowtail on hot pink dianthus
• Reading on the patio in the evening
• House Finch raising chicks in a hanging geranium pot
• Black-cap chickadees calling fee-bee to each other as they enter the birdhouse we furnished them
• Early morning sunlight glinting off the bottle tree
• Sandals
• Common yellow and orange marigold edging the vegetable garden
  
  
  
  

May Godsends:

• quail calling “Where are yoooou?”
• thunder storms
• the green up
• early morning two-mile walks
• the sweet scent of mother’s white lilacs
• purple rock cress blooming in my rock wall
• the echo of mourning doves cooing to each other
• the sound of Rainbirds in the afternoon
• reading on the patio in the evening
• fresh asparagus

April's Godsends:

• daffodils
• birds in the backyard birdhouse
• poetry month
• garden shop visits
• Cadburycreme eggs
• sitting in the sun
• digging in the soil
• planting broccoli, cabbage, sweet peas and new perennials
• picking up rocks in the vegetable garden
• a clean patio