Every night I go to my little cubby hole, I call my office. There I will attempt to write, surf the internet looking for ideas, check emails, social media, and possible play a computer game of some sort. The dogs keep me company. The little dog, Keelaa, makes sure I take my breaks from writing. I think she has an egg timer hiding somewhere that only she knows about it. We have to stop to play a game of tug. Then there is the receiving of a chew toy of some type. She prefers rawhide chews.
[media-credit id=1 align=”aligncenter” width=”300″][/media-credit]In my office, I use a desktop. I do have a laptop, but I stopped using that so much ever since Keelaa came along a year ago. I used to use it in the living room, but I’m afraid the pup will use it for a launch or landing pad as she catapults herself across the couch. Now, I save the laptop for travel, especially when I go to a writing function and have to stay overnight.
[media-credit id=1 align=”aligncenter” width=”300″][/media-credit]Sometimes I’m productive. I’ve learned how to put the dogs to sleep. That happens when I put Celtic music on to help me get into the zone for writing fantasy. They don’t sleep so well when I put Today’s Top Hits on, for writing Young Adult Contemporary. I always have to have some sort of background noise when I write. It can’t be perfectly quiet. Even when I was in school, I couldn’t do my homework or study without having either the radio or the tv on.
Most times, it’s night time when I go and work in my office, Monday through Friday. On the weekend, I tend to start writing by 7 am. The reason I don’t start writing at that point in the morning during the weekdays is because I have a regular 7-3 job. Yup, I work in a factory making things. Sometimes I will either weave fabric, sew fabric, or put parts together. I like my day job. I like the people I work with. I think I would be hard pressed ever to give it up, because of them.
I don’t just use a computer to write. Many times I will jot things down on scrap pieces of paper, even when I’m at work. If an idea comes to me, I have to capture it before it is lost in the abyss of the mind. That is where the pens and pencils come in. I make my own notebooks up with blank cardstock that I can print a cover design on. This I fill with lined paper and use brass fasteners to hold it all together.
My ideal space would have everything I need in a day, right there in my office. Unfortunately, I lack the room. A small refrigerator for cold drinks would be nice. Room for exercise equipment would be nice too. Then there needs to be storage space for all the manuscript files and don’t forget bookshelves for all those books I need to read.
Someday, I’ll be able to have an office like that. For now, I’m happy the way things are.
What will they come up with next? I guess these have been out for a few years, I just never came across them until now. We could have used one of these on our older Pup, Julie, a few years ago. That was when she decided to take a stroll down the road without anyone’s escort. We became worried when we had trouble finding her.
After one last search, we found her at the end of the road, on the back side of the snow embankment. She is old and has trouble climbing. I guess she must have gotten on that side of the road where there hadn’t been any snow blocking her path. When she tried to return, she discovered she was trapped. I can imagine how scared she must have gotten.
Julie had appeared to have given up. She lay on her side in the snow, looking dead. I shouted her name as soon as I saw her and didn’t get any response at first. Then when she realized it was us coming to her rescue, she began to move. She struggled in the snow, but couldn’t climb the snow bank. We had to push and pull her over it. She is a 100-pound dog, about the size of a golden retriever, just all black.
Had her fur been white, I bet we’d never have seen her.
I think, sometime in the future, I may be investing in one of these tracking devices for my dogs.
A plate of syrup blew across the road followed by the Bluejay. It’s mind set on getting one small taste of that syrup while avoiding the mailbox on the other side of the road. Bob had other plans for that plate. That dog was always off its chain in more ways than said. It didn’t matter how many times the local pound picked it up, it always managed to escape its bonds, just like today.
Bob dove for the plate, chasing the bluejay off, clenching the syrup smeared paper plate in his teeth. His prize that he wasn’t allowed to keep for long when the school bus stopped at the end of the driveway, letting a boy and a girl off the bus.
“Bob, what do you have there in your mouth?” The boy grabbed ahold of Bob’s collar and slipped the plate from its mouth. Not once did the boy notice the ink smear across the dog’s white nose. That he noticed when he saw the state of his bedroom. All his pens chew and on the floor.
“Bad Bob, bad.”
Bob didn’t care. He took his place on the bed, closed his eyes and slept while the boy fussed about the mess.
I could see Keelaa doing something like this. She can be such a devious little pup. Chewing, that’s her bane. If allowed, she would eat, chew every piece of wooden furniture. Now I keep her well stocked in chews – rawhide. She likes beef bones too. Those I tend to cook for 10 minutes under the broiler before giving it to her. My dog is domesticated. She likes her food cooked.
She is older now, almost at the one year mark. That’s next month. It’s hard to believe she is that old. At least she never got enormous. A small dog of about 25 pounds, the perfect size.
Meh – It is Wednesday check in and I haven’t written a word since Saturday. The plot obviously is still cooking.
I turn on the computer and do nothing but surf the internet riding the waves of nothing ness.
I’m here because I promised I would check in as I’m supposed to. Well here I am and all I can say is Meh –
Our thirteen year old dog, Julie is not doing so well these days. We hate to think of what might be coming next for her. We love her so much. She is the best four footed friend and family member we have ever had. Her life of Busy Bones and people food for dinner has been pretty enjoyable for her. She knows she is loved.
Her problem is not just her age, but age related problems. She has lumps. We have a lumpy doggy. The vet told us it is fat deposits but we are sure they are more than that. These lumps have been gradually growing on the insides of her thighs and her chest.
Just yesterday she began having trouble walking. It is so sad. There is not much we can do for her and hate to think of a possible alternative. We won’t go there yet. She is still eating and drinking with no problems. It is joint pain and trouble with her back legs. She is still getting around – slowly – and we are in denial. Our baby can’t be going downhill on us. I don’t want to think that way. Not yet.
I hope your writing is going better than mine is.
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