ANNA E. TURNER
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All the Imaginary Dangling Carrots

2/11/2016

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I'm torn today.  I want to work hard and get lots of writing done before it's time to bake all the birthday and Valentine party treats that will be heading out the door tomorrow morning.  I also want to drink coffee and watch Gilmore Girls and lay around like it's 2005.  On top of the usual desire to hang out at Luke's, I just now found out that Gilmore Girls is coming back as a miniseries on Netflix.  First Full House, now this?  The nostalgia is strong.  It takes little to please me. This is just over the top.  I'm going to skip all day.  

It's cold here, folks.  Negative teens cold.  My face hurt by the time I made it back to our house this morning.  Even with the frigid temperatures, I love that morning walk down the alley.  Whether sunbeams guide the way, we're trekking through a frozen haze, or snow bits are pelting our faces it's always delightful once I'm actually out doing it.   I love the crooked fence that's barely standing up to the weight of this year's snow, the crunch of snow under our feet, and following the tracks left by the critters.  It was too cold for the birds this morning.  They were huddled up somewhere thinking of their happy place, wondering why they didn't make the trip to Florida this year.  

Lots on the agenda today.  My work on the Flowchart of Action (my plan to get Fierce Solidarity out into as many real, live hands as possible) has lagged this week.  Illness has been making itself comfortable in our house for months now.  The last week that both girls actually made it to school every day of the week was back in early December.  Tomorrow, there is a birthday in the house.  I make it a point to do only absolutely necessary work on days that I gave birth in the past.  Seems fair.  To account for this, the FlofA needs my attention today.  FlofA, cake, brownies, finish drafting amazing chapter about a rug and the issue with the post--all in the next four hours.  So doable.  

Sigh, Gilmore Girls will have to wait.  It's fun to imagine that I'll sit around watching tv all day.  Some day.

Maybe.  
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    Hi! It's me, Anna. ​

    Leaving these musings here for you and me both. 

    You can read cringey pieces from 2012, the tale end of me finding my voice, and the settling in that happened around 2016. 

    I do a lot less of this sort of writing these days, but I'll never say never to a return to this form. It's always, "We'll see." 

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