If I stopped writing here, in this space that used to feel so comfortable, what would I do with the time it freed up?
Would I write elsewhere? A book of short stories and poetry and meanderng essays? A plotless novel, full of characters and quirky writing? A silly correspondence between myself and me? A paper diary? Doubtful. I never kept any kind of consistent diary until I started this journal, and it often appears the only thing that has really kept me writing has been the audience participation.
Would I have a cleaner house? Doubtful. I’ve always been of two minds about housework. On the one hand, I like a neat and tidy domicile with everything in its place but on the other I’d rather be lying on the couch reading.
Would I create a great art masterpiece, or perhaps a whole series of delightful artworks that would actually be worth something, if only on eBay? Doubtful. I might create the delightful artworks, but I have a hard time parting with my babies, and I don’t have the obsessive need to create that a true artist has. I’m more of a dabbler, really.
Would I spend more time with my children?
Would I turn to gardening and whip our yard and flowerbeds into shape?
Would I become a workaholic, only leaving the office when the reception has closed and the stairwells echo?
Would I turn to sex, drugs and rock-and-roll to fill my days?
Doubtful, sadly, but well, doubtful.
What’s that you say? Would I spend all my time playing Spider Solitaire? You funny. Lalalala, I can’t hear you!
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Last week I mentioned in a journal entry that we were planning a trip to Scotland and asked for recommendations of things to see and do. I got lots of responses with great ideas, and the wonderful Bluepoppy, an online friend I’ve never met, told me to get in touch with Croila, one of HER online friends whom she has never met, who just happens to be Scottish and lives in Scotland. So I did, and not only did she answer me with a great long email PACKED full of great ideas, suggestions and links, but she also posted the info on her website and asked HER readership for tips. What I am discovering now, along with the fact that the internet is full of lovely, generous, helpful and friendly people, is that we will probably have to plan another trip to Scotland because there is TOO MUCH TO SEE.
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I was trying to look up my family’s ancestral tartans online, as I have several Scots back about 5 generations: Dalgleish, Scott and McAllister. When it gets that far back, how do you decide which tartan is really YOURS? Also, they were all farmers, so I don’t think they count, because wasn’t it mostly the wild Highland clans that had tartans? What if you like a tartan that you really have no claim to? Are you allowed to use it? Not that I’m particularly enamored of plaid, you understand, I’m just curious.
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Why am I just in the mood to quit things lately? Argh. Somebody stop me.