So, you're saying cows help provide...umm...fertile ground for writing, so to speak? Hrm.
You'd think I'd be all set. I got cow stories. Like the ghost cow that old Mrs. Willson was convinced haunted the heifer barn.
Or how I used to help my brother toss hay and grain to cooped-up heifers when it was twenty-some below zero and they had to stay indoors. His first job was working at that barn, and on cold days, it was a lot of work, so I tagged along to assist. The barn was very old, with all sorts of interesting abandoned bits and pieces and overlapping repairs, and everything was so dimly lit and hushed I'd find myself whispering as if I was in a church...at least until one of the giant rats that liked to break into the grain put in an appearance.
Or there was the heifer that got killed by lightning in a clearing in the woods one summer when I was about twelve.
I came across an "advice column" this past year -- it's so much more than that -- with one entry that takes firmly in hand the need to cut loose and write. The columnist does not mince words (and uses some "strong language" FYI, in case you are offended by such), but I found her approach both refreshing and true. Here's the link: http://tinyurl.com/28jvqgx
Writer's Block and I have forged a close bond of lifelong, personal friendship this year....hm. Maybe I should take a vaca vaca (that's vah-cah vay-cay...COW PUN!) to some more heifer-centric clime.
6 comments:
Well, then. I figger I oughta be in luck. Inspiration is within spittin' distance here in rural Ohio.
So, you're saying cows help provide...umm...fertile ground for writing, so to speak? Hrm.
You'd think I'd be all set. I got cow stories. Like the ghost cow that old Mrs. Willson was convinced haunted the heifer barn.
Or how I used to help my brother toss hay and grain to cooped-up heifers when it was twenty-some below zero and they had to stay indoors. His first job was working at that barn, and on cold days, it was a lot of work, so I tagged along to assist. The barn was very old, with all sorts of interesting abandoned bits and pieces and overlapping repairs, and everything was so dimly lit and hushed I'd find myself whispering as if I was in a church...at least until one of the giant rats that liked to break into the grain put in an appearance.
Or there was the heifer that got killed by lightning in a clearing in the woods one summer when I was about twelve.
Nope, I got nothin'.
A cow, much like inspiration, always has a way of coming and going at its own pace.
That's the only cow related quip I can think of. :u)
I came across an "advice column" this past year -- it's so much more than that -- with one entry that takes firmly in hand the need to cut loose and write. The columnist does not mince words (and uses some "strong language" FYI, in case you are offended by such), but I found her approach both refreshing and true. Here's the link: http://tinyurl.com/28jvqgx
Hemingway said something about for every one page of good writing he had to throw out 99 pages of sh*@.
Writer's Block and I have forged a close bond of lifelong, personal friendship this year....hm. Maybe I should take a vaca vaca (that's vah-cah vay-cay...COW PUN!) to some more heifer-centric clime.
Post a Comment