Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Spring Thaw Has Dried Up My Creativity

Here sits Val, uninspired, fresh off the edits of her most recent, probably last, and hopefully not cut future story publication. Did you follow that? Surely one so succinct as Val will not have any problem getting her next story in print and out to the masses.

It's a tale of ne'er-do-wellism, ripped from the annals (heh, heh, you know what THAT sounds like) of grammar school disciplinary files. Yes, it's the story of a recalcitrant Pony, a true system-bucking bronc, the year before the Pony Whisperer became his teacher.

I must say, reading that epic story again brought a slight curvature to the corners of my mouth. At least I can amuse myself. Meanwhile, here I sit, all keyboarded up, with no thing to write. Becalmed on a glassy sea of humdrumity.

One of these days, I might even amuse my shrinking readership again. Better call up Mom and go for a ride. Or ask what's in her mailbox. Or sneak out there at night and hose down her driveway so she can't get her 4WD lemon out of the garage. Or check on her slaw status. Hick needs to get off his duffus and do something outrageous or endearing or mechanically incorrect. The Pony cannot be expected to shoulder the entire burden of Val's sharp-fingered commentary.

I am not going to tell him how the "horse latitudes" got their name.


  1. Just give your mom a call anytime you ned material.

  2. You must not tease us with your pony. Do share a bit. How did you break that bad boy?

  3. Knowing you, you'll come up with something, but I think writing has it's time of rest... I think I'm at that point right now too!

  4. I am sure that Hick will strike again ........

  5. How can you goad/prod (as in electric cattle) Hick into doing something that is write-worthy?

    What would you have to cook/do/say that would encourage him into performing some antics?

  6. joeh,
    I talked to her this morning, and I'm sure nobody will believe it, but she said she was going to town to buy some SLAW!

    The Pony had the best 1st Grade teacher ever. She used to work in the high school, with the LD students. She was very patient with them, but did not coddle them. No excuses. Take responsibility.

    Pony Whisperer switched to 1st Grade, and I requested that The Pony be in her class. I thought her temperament was suited for his capricious nature. After a semester of missing recess because he had to PULL A STICK for talking, and bringing home his folder WITHOUT A PAW PRINT STAMP every day, resulting in a decrease in Game Boy minutes, The Pony began to see the paddock light at the end of the stable.

    The Pony knew he wasn't getting away with his shenanigans, and grew quite fond of Pony Whisperer, wanting to please her. At the end of the year, she moved up to 2nd Grade when a new position was created. The Pony was in her class for another year. The school-hating Pony was quite upset to miss several days when he had pneumonia. On the way back after his absence, he confided, "I really like Mrs. Pony Whisperer. I would hug her if I could. But hugging is not allowed in school."

    Every time I see her at our district-wide meetings, I thank Pony Whisperer for the magnificent job she did breaking my Pony to follow her lead.

    Rest? Rest? That's what summer is for. And Christmas vacation. And 18 snow days.

    Oh, he already has.

    All I have to do is sigh while standing in front of my one-element oven, and that sets him off. Let the record show that he can hear my miniscule escape of breath while in the living room, with the TV cranked up to jet-engine decibels.

    ENCOURAGE HIM? You've got to be kidding, Madam! Never encourage Hick.