Mothering and Writing and What-Not

Remember when John Travolta was on Welcome Back, Kotter, and his character used to describe his activities as "Rockin and rollin' and whatnot?"


Yes, I am old. Leave me alone

I am feeling like quite the on-top-of-it wunderkind mother. Of course all of this will fall to pieces in a couple of weeks, but for now I can sit gingerly on my laurels having...

...brought everyone for their summer teeth cleaning
...brought everyone for eye check-ups
...made everyone appointments for tooth sealing
...input a total of 32 soccer games on my iCal
...input dozens of soccer practices, fall ball practices, and jazz classes (note to brother: don't get excited—it's just the rec center)
...insured all uniforms, shoes, accessories, equipment, etc. has been obtained
...become fully cognizant of the 3rd grade and 5th grade school supply lists
...mapped out an attack plan for back-to-school shopping

*rubs hands together in gesture of semi-triumph*

In other mindboggling news, I submitted a little piece to a little place and we'll see if I have a little luck. I realized it had been a while since I last launched a story into the unknown, and this was making it a struggle to continue to think of myself as a writer. Easy enough fix, right? Write something, send it out. It doesn't have to be such a big freaking deal. She says to herself. Rhetorically.

And remaining on subject (for once), I shall now draw your attention to the exciting fact that the excellent Bamboo Ridge is soon to publish their 100th issue, and they have two fun ways to submit. From their recent e-newsletter:

Don't forget that the 100th issue of BAMBOO RIDGE is coming. There are two writing events running right now to celebrate the landmark 100th issue.

There are two writing possibilities here. The first is a 100 line max story or poem for possible publication in the upcoming 100th issue of BR. The second is The Great BR Short-Short Story Contest, 100 words max:

First, the submission guidelines for pieces submitted by mail for publication consideration in issue #100 of BR:

1. 100 lines maximum of poetry or prose. (Approximately 3 typed pages, double-spaced, 1" margins, 12 pt Times Roman font. Poetry may be single spaced and more than one poem may be submitted as long as the total number of lines is
100 or less.)

2. Submissions must be postmarked by Dec. 31, 2010.

3. Authors must include a legal size self-addressed envelope with sufficient postage for notification and return of your manuscript.

4. No online submissions will be accepted.

* * * * *

And here are the online only submission guidelines for the Great BAMBOO RIDGE Short-Short Story Contest:

1. The piece can be no more than 100 words long.

2. The piece must have a title, and the title does NOT count against the 100 words.

3. The piece must be submitted on the Bamboo Shoots page of the BR website between July 1, 2010 and December 31, 2010

http://www.bambooridge.com/bambooshootlist.aspx

and you must be registered on the BR site in order to submit an entry. You can use a "pen" name if you choose when you register : )

4. The author must write "BR 100 word contest" in the "A blurb about your piece or a good quote from your piece" section.

5. Only one submission per calendar month is allowed (six total submissions possible).

6. Any designated "winner" will receive a $10 Bamboo Bucks to use in the BR online store.

7. The winners may or may not be published in the 100th issue of BAMBOO RIDGE

I can swing 100 words or 3 pages, can't you? Let's shake on it.

The Post Wherein I Advise You Not To Look For Sesame Seeds at the Grocery Store in the Mountains

I am freshly returned from the mountains, and I carry the extra poundage to prove it. For what else is there to do in the mountains but find a comfy place to sit and...sit there? And eat fried foods (french fries, sweet potato fries, fried shrimp, fried fish)? And eat ice cream (the supremely evil Chips Galore chocolate chip and vanilla ice cream sandwich!)? Ack, the shame. But I think the view was extraordinarily beautiful this year:


Nothing of note happens at the lake in the mountains. Absolutely nothing. Or, more accurately, the only things of note that occur are things like this:

At the grocery store, I meandered about in search of sesame seeds. Out of luck, I approached a young man—let's say he was eighteen years old, or so—and said, "Excuse me, do you have sesame seeds?"

The young man looked terrified. He stared at me as if I'd asked if they carry human flesh in the meat department. He said nothing. I repeated my question. Then he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

It was my turn to stare at him. How does one respond to such blankness? Finally I said, "You know those little white things on the outside of hamburger buns? Those are sesame seeds."

"Oh!" he said. He led me to another aisle, stopped in front of a selection of dry beans, and pointed.

"That's okay," I said. "I'll ask someone else."

"It's my first day," he explained. At which point I raised my eyebrows and performed a crisp about-face.

What will become of this young mountain man, my friends? WHAT WILL BECOME OF HIM?!