First of all, to answer the question that I've heard from a few people: No, this blog is not paid for in part or in whole by Slop Chop, Inc; nor do I receive any form of compensation at all whatsoever from said company or spokesperson Vince.
Which is a good thing, because I regret to inform you that my Slap Chop has gone the way of the Omelette Express. It was briefly utilized on the day that I made Chicken Cacciatore, where after it was relegated to some dark shelf, where abouts it did suffer a rather severe breakdown and, long story short, is no longer with us.
Actually, it's not such a long story. That pretty much is the story. I used it once and it broke.
So so much for that.
I could say that it was fun while it lasted, but really it wasn't. I chopped a few veggies and then that was it. Game over.
I haven't been writing very much lately.
That may be a bit of an understatement.
I haven't been writing at all lately.
And by 'lately' I mean the last, say, six months. It's not a case of writers block. I don't know what writers block even is, although I guess it sort of defines itself. But I mean, I could write. If I wanted to write. The problem is that I just don't want to. At the end of the day, when the kids are all asleep, and the house is quiet, my mind flits briefly to the idea of writing, but then quickly chooses sleep or some other sedentary activity. 'Hoarders' is on. Or some such movie was just released and I simply have to see it. TLC is having a "Cake Boss" Marathon, and it's not that I've ever really cared for Cake Boss but a)It's a marathon! and b)after a while it does sort of grow on you-- what they can do with those cakes!!
Or whatever or whatever
So really, I need to try harder. I will try harder. At least, I'll try to try harder.
I'll write today. Or tomorrow. Or at least sometime this week.
In the New Year.
But frick if it's hard to write in this house. Hard? No. Impossible. Even right now as I'm writing this blog, I have Payton yelling "BOO!" in my ear followed by "Did that scare you?" Even though the last twenty BOOS!! have failed to illicit a response from me at all, she continues. Determined, it seems, to get my attention in one manner or another.
It's always the same thing when I write. I pull out my lap top and the children are like "Mom, are you going to write in your book today?" "Please don't" "Are you at least going to give us supper today?" I mean, honestly, for all their protesting I might as well be pulling out a crack pipe or something.
But the truth is, writing does have a certain addictive quality to it. Once I get into it, really into, everything else just fades to black. I can hear, as if in the distance, the children crying "Mom, I'm bleeding" and I'm like "That's nice, sweetie," real distracted like. And it seems that they do manage to injure themselves at an alarming frequency when I'm writing, as I say- determined to get my attention in some manner or another, however extreme, although I'm sure that the lack of direct supervision doesn't exactly help the matter.
So as I say, it's hard. Even now Payton just asked me "How much longer, mom?" her voice all pleading like. "Not long" I promise her, and she walks away, dejected like.
But I'm not making excuses.
Yesterday was the best day ever!! I stayed in my pyjamas ALL day and ate loads of snack food. I got a new book and read it cover to cover without barely getting up. We gave the whole family new, rhyming, names: Geoff: Jerry, Me: Carrie, Gage: Perry, Payton: Mary and Alex: Gary and referred to each other using our "Ary" names all day, which was the source of much amusement, especially when stringing them together as in: Perry and Mary go get your brother Gary and eat some dairy. And the thing is: I think Perry really suits Gage and Gary really suits Alex!! So that was fun. The only crimp in my leisurely day was when I found the dead mouse on the kitchen floor.
I was completely traumatized. Especially in light of the fact that the manner in which I discovered said dead mouse was by stepping on it and feeling something give and then squish between my toes.
Completely disgusting. Never get a cat for a pet. Honestly.
Anyways, the point is that Shutter Island is a really good book!! And I discovered after reading it that it's also going to become a movie!! Starring Leonardo DiCaprio!!
And Christmas has come and gone. I find it so anticlimactic. All this time spent shopping and fretting and spending, and then in the blink of an eye, it's over and you're left with a garbage bin heaping with boxes and ribbon and wrap, hyperactive kids and a few pounds of weight you hadn't before. Although there's a part of me that's relieved as well. All the hustle and bustle gets overwhelming for an introvert like me. I don't normally like to use the word 'introvert' I prefer the term "quiet" or even "aloof", because the only time you would ever hear anyone use the word 'introvert' it was like, say, on City Confidential, as in: "A life long introvert, Dalmer had begun killing and dismembering small animals at a young age." I mean, I may be an introvert, OK, yes, but I have never, and I mean never, dismembered a small animal.
Well, OK, yesterday I did step on a dead mouse. But that was purely an accident.
Anyways, alls I'm saying is that I prefer to be at home, in my jammys, with a book in my hand and a cup of Joe in the other.
Oh, and the kids, too.
They're always there.
And hence, I must be going.