It’s Wednesday’s Word, and you know what that means: write something – an essay, poem, or flash fiction – based on Wordsmith.org’s word of the day and post it by midnight. Past results from this fun writing exercise can be found under Wednesday’s Word on the sidebar to the right.
Last year around this time, I was feeling just as dazed and distracted.
Lists upon lists don’t help. A pressing deadline called Christmas adds to my anxiety. And, writing time gets lost in the mix.
But hey, it’s Wednesday.
And, because I have a house to clean, groceries to buy, cookies to bake, and kids to wrestle away from the presents, let’s get right down to it.
divagate. verb. To wander or digress.
Wandering in circles. Yes, that’s been me lately. Too much coffee, too little time.
Celia only had three things left on her list: a book on wolves for her nephew, wild animal that he was; a cookbook for her sister, Paula Deen’s latest convert; and a gift card for her brother, who never latched on to anything — not even a wife.
She wandered past the Bestsellers and paused at the New in Fiction. She thumbed through calendars and flipped through quote books. She was drawn to the display of journals and pens, unable to resist the feel of fine paper between her fingers and the weight of a good pen.
It was the Carol of the Bells that pulled her back to her list. From the shelves of the Young Adult section, she grabbed an old classic, Wolfling. In the cookbook section, she reached for Paula Deen’s It Ain’t All About the Cookin’, Celia agreed, behind every recipe is a good story. Then, Celia went back and picked up a small book of quotes she’d been reading before.
She paid for the books, the gift card, and a pen for herself. She sat down in her car and wrote inside each cover.
To Dylan. Dear Lover of wolves, You’ll find plenty of facts about habitats and behavior in other books, but the real learning is hidden in stories. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said it best: “The love of leaning, the sequestered nooks, and all the sweet serenity of books.”
To Mary. Miguel de Cervantes in Don Quixote said “All sorrows are less with bread” – or, if you’re Paula Deen, a red velvet cake.
To Jim. You’re a man of mystery, impossible to buy for, and you work too much. Annie Dillard offers wise advice: “Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you.” I love you.
Celia put the cap on her new pen and slipped it inside her purse. She started her car and turned up the music.