My over-developed wishbone

"Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where your backbone ought to be." ~ Clementine Paddleford

First and foremost, let us rejoice that such an amazing name exists to be rolled across one's tongue. Clementine! Paddleford! How could she possibly have been a boring woman? She couldn't, and wasn't. I wrote up a little post about her over at my day job: http://wholefoodsmarket.com/storesbeta/scottsdale (it will be up on Friday).

In thinking about the quote above, though, it occurs to me that I have indeed grown a wildly scoliotic wishbone. My wishes have twisted around my spine like kudzu, taking the place of muscle and nerve. And so these muscles these nerves, little used, atrophy. I wake up some days full of ideas yet go to bed scared and unaccomplished. Every small success seems to come with two failures these days, and I become terrified to try anything.

There was a time when things were stressful and stretched in a different way; when at least the day to day expenses of living were taken care of, and it was only my mind that was wasting away. Now my mind, over alert, is wasted for four hours on the bus each day. Trying to read or knit amid the elbows and knees of the summer working classes becomes a battle of mind over nose. There are treatises and essays I'd like to write, if only my car would stop breaking and just ONE piece of real writing would make a buck, so I could take a day off to do it.

Regardless. The writing continues. One of my older essays, after much brutal (though necessary) cropping, has been accepted by Sea Stories. I am totally stoked, as I tried to get into this journal over a year ago, just before they lost funding and went dark. They are back up, and I am among some really accomplished writers and artists. Check it out: http://seastories.org/category/overfalls/

And for fun, I wrote up some drinks recipes with the help of a local bar over at Venuszine: Red, White, and Blueberries (it's not the 4th, but bloody marys are always in season).

As does the knitting. I pulled my Jo Sharp tank back out of the corner. It was being punished for bad behavior, also known as "unintentional and random short-rowing". I pulled back two balls of yarn (and 10 inches!) and have gotten nearly back to where I started. Pictures? I am not that organized, still, in the new place--but some high speed internet I can't possibly afford will be up on Thursday, so hope abounds amid the crushing heat, broken auto parts, and leftovers AGAIN.