..one sunny, comfortable and exceptionally fine Sunday morning outside in my usual writing spot, with the intent of soaking up the sun, the warmth, and the breeze, so as to mix them all together and apply them to my creativity in action.
And as usual, a multitude of things (including this post), conspired to prevent me from exercising my creativity in action. First and foremost, I refilled the bird feeder and refreshed the birdbath.
Instead of getting some natural peace and quiet, which in this case would simply be the harmonious and melodic voices emanating from the mountain, I instead got the incessant squawking of a tiny group of bird arguing at the bird feeder. As for the birdbath, I watched a cardinal, and two robins take a rather noisy bath.
Eventually things did quiet down enough for me to crack open my rough draft, briefly take a look at what I wrote this past Saturday (7/9) to finish a chapter (not an easy thing to do), make some edits, then turned to the previous chapter so that I could work on figuring out what I needed to do, which was lay the groundwork for one of the two climaxes.
However, if you think dealing with feathered friend interruptus is difficult, try dealing with people interruptus. And no, I'm not talking about the normal family/innocent bystander kind of people. I'm talking about the kind of people in which you always have to have an ear out for.
As some of you may know, I live between 2 group homes for the developmentally disabled. Due to the natural hyper-vigliance that is today's world, one has a tendency to be aware of possibly unnatural sounds coming from elsewhere. And you become acutely aware of those same sounds when you have one, lots of children in the neighborhood, and two, developmentally disabled people living in the neighborhood.
So when you start hearing screaming or the raising of those particular voices, you have a tendency to stop what you're doing and concentrate on whether or not the people connected to those voices are in trouble.
Sound really does carry here, so it becomes quite easy to figure out what's going on, and thus whether or not you should be concerned. Fortunately, there have been no incidents in which other steps had to be taken. Just the same, it does make it difficult at times to tune out your surroundings so that you can write.
Like I said, I cracked open my rough draft to do some writing, but once again fate intervened to prevent me from doing anything beyond writing this blog post.
Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm a bit weird when it comes to writing. I really don't mind listening to the natural sounds of the neighborhood and the mountain while I write. Call it my white noise, if you will. However, I do mind when people are in the general vicinity of me.
Like 2 yards.
When I write, I truly like to be alone. I don't like people being closer than 5 yards to me. Which means if I'm in my den, I'm comfortable with people being as close as the first floor to me. I'm not comfortable with people being in the same room with me. Even if I shut the door to my den, I still have problems.
At this point, I'm sure that you're able to figure out that someone is within the general vicinity of me. Which of course means that the only writing I've been able to do is this blog post.
Not sure what kind of point I'm making with this post, or even if there is a point to begin with. I guess you can call this a random oriented type of tangential post that was designed to simply bloviate like a talking head on a vapid news program that deals in factoids, drama, hyperbole and a thesaurus.
In any event, this was a Writing Wednesday post. My name is G, and it's a given that I approve this string of nouns, verbs, adverbs, adjectives and other types of grammar for your enjoyment.