Hypergraffiti

Hypergraphia is a condition that causes people to transcribe their thoughts uncontrollably. I don't suffer from it in the clinical sense, but I may be borderline. My blog is the cyber-wall where I spray paint my thoughts for all to see. By the way, if you came here directly through blogger --if your page has no yellow frames and no pretty pic of me in the top left corner -- you may want to visit my main site at www.hypergraffiti.com, where you can read this blog and much much more.

Name:

I'm Trudy Morgan-Cole, a writer from St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada. My books include "The Violent Friendship of Esther Johnson," "Esther: A Story of Courage," and "Deborah and Barak." I'm also a married mom of two, a teacher in an adult-ed program, and a Christian of the Seventh-day Adventist kind. I blog about writing, reading, parenting, teaching, spirituality, and shiny things that catch my eye.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Sometimes it's not that I have nothing to say...

...it's having too much to say, that holds me back from blogging. As with this week.

Not that I had anything signficant or meaningful to say. Just a bunch of small things cluttering the surface of my mind, as envelopes and papers might (and, indeed, do) clutter the surface of my desk. Also, I had some pictures I wanted to post and didn't get around to until tonight, so I'm sorry ... I've been a slow blogger this week. I'm always frustrated when people don't update regularly enough, but this week, I'm one of those people. I can't even claim to be busy because this week was MUCH less busy than those weeks in November when I was NaNo-ing. Just didn't get around to it.

One thing I did get around to, though it's still a work in progress, was updating
Compulsive Overreader with reviews of the books I've read over the past month or two but didn't have time to review. I've added a few new ones, and will be adding more over the next few days, so check it out!

Jason also got around to something this week. It involved bathroom repair. We have this bathroom that has been the bane of our existence since we bought our 60-year-old house eleven years ago. The bathroom is the only room we haven't redecorated -- it still has the shabby, peeling heinous blood-red paint that so horrified us when we moved in, we thought it was going to be the first thing we'd fix. Problem with the bathroom is that the things we need to change, and our visions of how we'd like that room to look, are so extensive that we can't touch one thing without the whole project unravelling into something that, frankly, we can't afford right now. So we've done nothing about it (except complain of course).

One of the few fixtures we like in the bathroom is a lovely old-fashioned pedestal sink. Unfortunately this sink was also cursed with unlovely old-fashioned separate taps, so that we could only get very cold or very hot water, and we were never able to mix them to an appropriate warm temperature for hand-washing. We agreed that "someday" we would get attractive taps that would look good with our basin and meet in the middle with a single spigot ... but it's taken 11 years to get to that point. A few weeks ago one of the taps was dripping and Jason said as long as he was going to fix it, why not get the taps we've always wanted? So with much grunting, muttering and hacksawing last night, he got the old taps off and the new ones installed. You can see from the photo how badly the wall behind the sink is in need of paint, but at least we were able to get this one, small manageable project done, and I'm happy as a clam with our new taps.


Emma got around to something this week -- she finally lost her second front tooth which has been dangling for the longest time. Sadly, the catalyst for this tooth loss was that she got hit in the face by a tetherball at school, but it did the trick -- later that night her tooth came out. I have always wanted a child with two front teeth out at the same time ... and to have it happen at Christmas so I can sing that annoying song to her over and over again ... well, it's just a gift.

Here's a picture. She's a lot cuter than the sink.

Speaking of kids, we had parent-teacher meetings this week. Apparently both kids are doing well at school. In fact, in one case, the teacher seems to be eliciting much better behavior from the child than we are getting at home, which is ... humbling, I guess. I mean, I wish we could get the same sunny disposition and ready obedience at home that this child appears to be producing at school, but at the same time, I don't underestimate how lucky I am to have kids who are doing OK in school both academically and socially. I know that that's a blessing not to be taken lightly.

Something I wanted to put a picture of in here today was the old white coffee table that I hauled into my office at work this week, because today it underwent an artistic transformation and that deserves to be documented. But that picture and story will have to be saved for another day, because I forgot to bring my camera to work today. I will, however, tell you a story that is sort of about work:

Last night I dreamed that I was -- pretty much where I was two years ago. I mean, I was in the same position in my dream that I was then -- I was a former teacher who had been staying at home, raising kids and freelance writing, for seven years, and I had just completed a Master's in Counselling Psychology. In the dream I was trying to figure out what to do next, career-wise. I had the option of staying home to write full-time while the kids were in school, but I knew that wasn't what I really wanted. I was offered several jobs in my dream (unlike in real life) -- one was an academic position, and I knew that that wasn't the life I wanted to pursue. Then there was a position in a school, either teacher or guidance counsellor, and I remember thinking, "This isn't right either." In the dream I had a lost feeling, wandering around rejecting options, not knowing what I wanted but just knowing that nothing felt right, that somewhere out there was a missing piece.

Then I woke up and my first thought was, "I have a job. I work at The Murphy Centre."

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you dream the person you love most is dead or gone from you, and in your dream you experience terror and grief and loss, and then you wake to find that person lying safe in bed next to you? And you're overwhelmed with relief and joy at your real life? I've had those dreams. And I have to say that waking up this morning, after the dream I had, and remembering where I worked was almost that good a feeling. The feeling that I've found my missing piece.

It's a funny old world where you have to feel apologetic about being happy and content, but sometimes I do feel that way, just because so many people (including many of those I love) aren't so happy and content with their lives. But I do have to pause and give thanks now and then for being the luckiest, or most blessed (pick your theology) woman I can imagine being.

This is my 99th blog post. I am trying to think of something cool to do for my 100th. Watch this space for developments.



4 Comments:

Blogger Christine Hennebury (isekhmet/Smartmouth Mombie) said...

Wow, you must be frustrated with me A LOT then. I almost always have that problem of too much to blog about, and it is often mixed with that particular lack of energy that comes from a long day of kid-wrangling. I end up feeling that if I get started I'm going to be plugging away at it much longer than I intended, so I never start and then I miss the moment on some things.

ANYWAY, I started singing 'All I want for Christmas' as soon as you mentioned the second tooth. So I guess this would be a bad time for me to meet herself. :)

The Boy used to tell this joke that went like this : "Why did the spider run away? Because TWO mommies were chasing him!" And he said the mommies part as in "behold the awesome power of not one but TWO mommies!" I think that having TWO mommies break out the same annoying song would send little girls (and spiders) running far, far away.

/blog hijacking

9:52 PM  
Blogger TrudyJ said...

Chris, your blog "frustrates" me only in the sense that when I really enjoy someone's writing, I want MORE of it, and some of the bloggers I enjoy best don't write nearly enough to fulfill my needs. I definitely understand the reasons why people don't update more often. Remember, I wasn't blogging when my kids were the age yours are now!

8:18 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Chris, your blog frustrates me too.

Trudy, I had a dream like that the day before yesterday. I dreamt my son was lost and in the dream I kept thinking I would find him and kept searching different places. After a while, seven hours had passed and I, in a complete panic, decided to admit he was really missing and call the police. I could barely breathe. Then I started thinking the police would be suspicious of me because I had taken seven hours to call them. I was trying to figure out what to tell them and where Sam could be then, in my dream, said "no, I am in a dream and I am not dealing with this. I am waking up." And I did. Sam got one heck of a hug when he woke up that morning.

7:30 PM  
Blogger TrudyJ said...

It's great when you can recognize dreams as dreams and choose to wake up from them. I've done that a few times too. What a great feeling when you wake up and things are OK!

8:13 PM  

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