Jubilee's Jottings

   Writer’s block is something I have never experienced before, at least, not the way it showed up recently. I’m sure the lack of creative motivation is what kept some spaces between my writing, but it wasn’t like this before working on my book. Before my latest projects, the writing was up to my discretion, when I wanted to and when I had inspiration. I wanted to write fairly frequently, so I wrote often, but it wasn’t quite every day. Now that I’m writing a book, writing can become quite hard. What do I actually write? What should I bring to light from this time in my life? How do I transition from this point to the next? What do I write right now? I face these questions every time I sit at my typewriter and attempt to work. I do not face these questions nearly so much with the newspaper work, because when I research, the material comes to me. The magazine writing can wait for inspiration or a bit of transparency, but the book is a totally different ballgame. One strategy I

Bella She’s energetic, soft, and loyal. She sleeps at the foot of my bed and perks up her ears as soon as I stir in the morning. She makes me go on walks and learn things I didn’t know.  Her name is Bella, (Bay-ya, Spanish for beautiful) and she’s a Portuguese Water Dog.  I found her on Craigslist in the free section. There was a picture of a cute, curly dog, first posted a month earlier. Should I get a dog?  A few weeks earlier I’d thought it would be nice to have a dog. Someone to keep me company, make me exercise, and, well, a project. When I showed mom the listing, she said the idea seemed like an answer to prayer. I need extra emotional support, and a dog just might help with that. With her permission and provisos, I messaged the owner and arranged for a time to meet the dog.  I arrived at the dog park at the same time as the owner and dog. A furry bear-creature leapt out of the passenger seat and joyfully greeted me and my siblings. I talked to the owner for a while, aski

  Crashing waves Cloudy sky Puddle.  Softest silt Dancing bird: Footprints.

The Night Flies             When I was still bed-bound by Lyme’s, I needed something comfortable to wear in bed. Regular clothing is not an option for someone spending most of the day in bed. I started out with a dress I had bought on Amazon.           The dress was cheap, and I wore it as an everyday dress until, one day, it shrunk. It wasn’t too small to wear in bed though. This thin, shrunken dress got me through the first few months of being sick, but eventually it tore. A giant tear. Now I had nothing comfortable to wear.           Mama went to the thrift store and bought two pajamas for me. Hopefully I would like one of them. I liked both of them, but I didn’t wear them the way the manufacturer intended.           I took the two pajamas and cut them in half. The half of one became the top, the bottom of the other turned into a skirt, and the remainder of the first half became a ruffle. Very nice, very comfortable, but not becoming, only functional and lavender c