The Labyrinth of Life

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Biggest Freak Out Yesterday
The next door neighbors, I'll call them Charlie Brown and Cancer Nurse, were outside raking leaves, including some in our yard. I told the husband who then felt obliged (or guilted) into getting out of his recliner despite his by then receding migraine headache and go and do the same. He spoke to Charlie Brown and said "Thanks for ruining my weekend" (ha ha) and Charlie Brown said to husband he should let his conscience be his guide.

Anyway, later that day we decided to go out for "dunch" (late lunch/early dinner) at the Red Robin. As we were getting into our car to leave, Charlie Brown and Cancer Nurse were also departing in theirs. I said to husband "hope they're not going to the Red Robin." (Do you see where this story is going?) We were enjoying our delicious fish and chips and Bonzai burger in the bar at Red Robin and husband said "there's Charlie Brown". Of course, since husband is known to constantly cry wolf and say things like this, I assumed he was joking. But comes Charlie Brown soon followed by Cancer Nurse who proceeded to sit at the bar right across from us.

We made uncomfortable small talk with them for a minute or so and then bought them their drinks on our tab, unbeknownst to them. Perhaps the fact that there are only 120,000 people in this town doesn't make this much of a small world story, but nonetheless it kind of freaked me out.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

I have been starting to feel the pressure of the holidays upon me as I worry about cooking on Thanksgiving and after that I will quickly begin to worry dreadfully about Christmas. I use to get involved with all of this holiday preparation and I think I enjoyed it. Now it is the absolute worst time of year and it just has to be endured.

Growing up in a large household it was very exciting, festive and fun as I look back retrospectively. I wonder just how much fun it could have been for my poor mother. She cooked and cleaned and planned and kept traditions going year after year and I never recall her complaining. My father was as excited as the kids, usually the first one up, awakening those of us not in front of the tree yet. Of course, he wasn't the one doing all of the work, he just had to pay for it!

It just all seems so pointless. I believe that as soon as my mother goes to the great beyond, or at least her ashes mix in with my fathers' in his beautiful ashbox, I will continue to put on a happy face and celebrate the holiday with her. That's the least she deserves.
Perhaps if I start writing in this format I will become inspired to start my novel. Here is the premise of said masterpiece: two brothers go off to World War I to protect their motherland (and their mother and sisters). They are both tragically killed in a battle on the same day. After the war, one of their fellow soldiers goes to the brothers home to give his most sincere condolences to their mother where he meets one of the sisters, falls in love and marries her. So we have war, tragedy, romance, history....all the makings of a great book, right?

Of course, I will need to do a lot of character development, plot construction, etc. I don't have a clue where to start. I feel like I need do something creative before I die even though I don't have a creative bone in my body. How does one open up the creative part of their brain? I think we all have potential for creativity, or do we??