Arrangements

I’m pretty sure this makes me an old woman, but, well, it’s time I told y’all.

I’ve started flower arranging and I kinda love it.  I started doing it because I have to bring flowers for the dojo every Wednesday and it seems a little flippant to just buy a five dollar bouquet at the grocery store on the way and then stuff it into a jar.  After all, I mean, the flowers are supposed to do a lot: remind you of life’s fragility, be an offering to those who’ve died but mostly they’re supposed to not look hideous and stink the place up.  So.  Flower arranging.

Bringing the dojo flowers means making an arrangement that I can get to the dojo.  This means taking the bouquet on the bus.  With my backpack.  And my sais.  It requires a lot of carefully planned movements and I’m not sure how much longer the bus drivers are going to let me get away with it.  When they do finally tell me not to bring on vases full of water and sticks, I’m not sure what I’ll do.  Cross that bridge when we come to it.

So, um, yeah.  If you’re wondering why I’m not writing about writing like the sign says, it’s  because I spent most of the day looking for the dojo flowers (the usual place had nothing, I had to go down town and spend vast quantities of bucks).  I feel like I’ve got a book beating it’s way out from my hindbrain but it feels like it might take a little while to get here.  Every time I sit down to write I think of the song Jesus is humming in Family Guy.  Not conductive to production.

No email from the publisher today.  That might be contributing to my short attention span.  Also: O my god you guys, I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch.  I’m just… not feeling very talky.