Domestic Magic

Yes. I believe there is magic. Subtle little steps we can take to invoke the deities of irony and mirth.

For instance, I lose things a lot. Keys. Wallet. Library card. Cell phone. I try to save face and find these things on my own so I don't have to admit to the family that I pulled a Kristen once again because I am still getting grief for misplacing my keys in the refrigerator butter dish. That was six years ago.

When I give up looking and decide to just take it on the chin, be a grown up and admit to losing something again, the item shows up. Magically.

Those drill bits weren't on the table before I e-mailed my husband. My wallet did not appear in the bathroom sink until I told my daughter I couldn't find it. Magic, right?

Now let me see if this works with writing. If I admit that I'm stuck, will I magically become unstuck? Here's hoping.

Chapter six of Titus and Annie 2 is an important one. This is the turning point when Titus gets on board with Annie's logic about the whole Santa Claus issue. He goes from empathy to interest and active engagement.

The chapter revolves around the Italian tradition of Nona Befanna. Children in Italy write letters to their parents promising to be good in the upcoming year. The letters are read outloud at the dinner table. Then the children go to the fireplace and burn the letters, saying a little rhyme to Befana as the ashes go up the chimney. They ask her to send them a treat.

For the life of me, I cannot write Annie's letter to her parents. This should be easy. But I'm stuck stuck stuck.

My husband is not sympathetic. He rather enjoys writer's block. The backyard looks awesome because of all the thinking and muttering I have been doing. The garden is almost ready for the fall planting. If this keeps up much longer, the shower in the master bathroom may end up regrouted.

Gratuitous Cat Picture:  Gravy and Smilodon "counting" baby turtles.

Ok. I have publicly admitted to being stuck and added one more gratuitous cat picture to the cosmos.  Hopefully this invokes whatever cosmic forces make my keys reappear. Let the magic and the writing begin . . .