Let's Just Call a Spade a Spade, Shall We?

I am a great writer. In my head. I'm eloquent, profound, reflective, sometimes downright philosophical. So why don't I sound that way on paper?

Seriously, when I am alone with my thoughts, when I am not surrounded by the cacophony of booms, bangs and crashes that make up my symphony of a life, I really believe I have all those deeply desirous traits. I just have to figure out how to remove myself from the "orchestra" from time to time without forgetting how to play my "instrument."

Okay, is that not the worst analogy you've ever read??! It might help you to know that I am not alone with my thoughts at present. If I were alone, I'm sure I would have thought of a much more appropriate analogy. If I were alone, well . . . refer back to paragraph one.

Over the course of the last couple of weeks I have taken the opportunity to do some weeding in the flower beds in our back yard. (Are they still called flower beds if there aren't any actual, you know, flowers planted in them? I'm just wondering.) Sadly, I am apparently not raising any future Don Burkes or Jamie Duries (okay, I confess, I totally had to google "famous gardeners" because I honestly didn't know of any myself!) because my kids don't go running for their spades and shovels when I announce that I'm going to "do a little yardwork." Consequently, I have had some time all to myself, with no running commentary to distract me. (Even as I type this I have TWO children calling, "Mommy! Mommy!" and another leafing through a magazine and sharing his thoughts on every page. Every. Single. Page.)

So.

One morning a couple of weeks ago, I decided to tackle the weeds that were threatening to choke out all the other weeds, so I donned my gardening duds (okay, my blue jeans and T-shirt) and headed out. Now ordinarily my children will employ their super-duper extra-sensory perception (also known as SDESP--not really, I just made that up) to discern where I am going to be at any given time, but not this time. THIS time, I had the backyard all to myself. What a revelation! I think I mentally wrote half a dozen blog posts during my time of solitude. I mean, I could actually hear myself think! How often does that happen?

Oh, I kid. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I crave my kids' company most of the time, but I will admit that lately I have had a little project brewing that has caused me a bit of frustration due to the lack of "alone time" that I have been able to muster. See, this "little project" has involved quite a bit of writing and tweaking and that does not come easily for me, unless the writing and tweaking are accompanied by a kid-free radius of about five miles.

You can imagine how much writing I've gotten done.

Since I so rarely have the opportunity to be mysterious, I am going to leave you hanging for a couple more days as to the nature of my "project." Sadly, for most of you my news will be anti-climactic anyway. But I am looking forward to sharing my newest enterprise with you, just as I am looking forward to more gardening sessions in the backyard. After all, the time in the garden afforded me some necessary quiet time in which to organize all those erudite, scholarly thoughts that sound so good in my head.

Now if I could just get them on paper.