More shoveling, more writing, more dreaming about gardening. I detect a pattern here.
I tried to kill my printer today. Not intentionally. I just tried to add paper at the exact moment is was taking in another sheet and it grabbed the entire quarter inch stack and squealed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! until I got it turned off. I had to tear apart one sheet on the inside, but managed to get the rest out. It reluctantly agreed to print when I turned it back on, but not without one final squawk. I certainly hope there is no lasting damage, and I won’t try that trick again.
Writing is going good, really good. I think it is true that going through grief makes a person a better writer, and for me, I also needed time to sweep the cob-webs out before I saw the stronger voice. I’ve been at this a long time, but the difference now is palpable, and exciting!
This week I am volunteering with middle-schoolers, a whole species unto themselves. I actually love the age, and I certainly admire those teachers who work with that energy level day after day, year after year. It might kill me. Teachers certainly don’t get paid enough.
I feel very empowered at the moment. I fixed the snow-blower all by myself. After our eight inches of snow, I picked up a large rock going down the sidewalk. The sheer bolt sheered off (by design) and only one auger on one side worked after that. I got out the instructions, knocked out the old bolt and put in the new one. There are two patios where I can’t use the snow-blower, so I still get plenty of exercise hand shoveling, but I’ve got to say, running that thing is a lot of fun. I now understand why my husband used to love repairing things himself, even when he had employees that could have done it. Fixing something like that gives you a great feeling.