Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Project: Flanders Pond


Since there was no interest seemingly, judging from a lack of comments, to hear more about the brown bread in a can and the sound it makes when opened, I suppose I will have to move to another topic.

Yum! Brown Bread
On my mind at the moment is finalizing this week’s Pick Of the Week. Many great choices, only room for one pick. I guess that means I have to read more great blogs in order to narrow it down to one. A rough life I have- reading and writing combined with a snappy wardrobe. Rough, rough, rough. I know, pity me and shed a tear.

Abrupt shift happening... 3...2...1...now.

I briefly outlined my personal project list earlier in the week. Of all on the list, the most complex, and personal, is also the one project I am least capable of achieving because at the core, it is not a writing project at all.

My wife’s grandmother passed recently. Nana had Parkinson's disease and as a memorial, my wife and I discussed the possibility of putting together a book of family history, with the proceeds from the book going toward Parkinson’s research. The book would feature stories from my wife’s side of the family, chronicling the generations, and would center around the family camp located on Flanders pond. My role, as I envisioned it, would be to act as editor.

What I should have realized is that even though I love writing, I still experience doubt, and if I experience doubt, then asking a group of folks who don’t write to provide stories... yeah. I’m an idiot. I sent an e-mail and thought I would get lots of eager responses but instead, I heard lots of silence. Understandably, non-writers have more doubt about writing and they can’t even say, “Well, I love to write, so I’ll give it a go.”

Editing and compiling, and organizing- those things are difficult. There is greater skill involved than I had imagined. That means greater effort. The results are worth the effort but I have to consider my level of skill and modify my inner time-table I set for completion.

Now, I need to stop typing. I went to the gym yesterday and surprised myself with great ambition coupled with poor conditioning. My tired body doesn’t recover or respond to sudden bursts of gym-associated abuse. My arms feel like lead weights have been attached to them and on top of that, it feels as if angry birds have thumped my upper torso repeatedly.

I hurt.

And ladies. Is there some secret course you all go through where you learn to ask the same questions?

Me: I have a pain in my side.
My Wife: Do you need to poop?

Really? It’s like mothers around the world have a special course for their daughters for when they have husbands and/or sons.

Mother: Now, when he says he has a pain, you respond...?
Daughter: Umm... I ask if he has to poop?
Mother: Exactly! I think you’re ready. How wonderful, darling.
Daughter: Mother? Why do we ask if he has to poop? Maybe he was at the gym doing manly things like exercising his abdominals?
Mother: Ah, sweetheart. It throws them off balance, of course.

So yeah. That’s all I have today.

5 comments:

JJ said...

i like the idea for the book sounds like quite a project but it is at least doable. plus we lost my dad to parkinsons so its a charity close to my heart.

MT Nickerson said...

It is a worthy cause. Hope to get it done. Thanks for the comment, JJ.

Rina Heisel said...

I think the book project sounds wonderful. You could try emailing really specific questions to get the ball rolling. Maybe things like- What's one of your first memories of Nana? Or funniest, favorite, etc.
Good Luck!

Julia Rachel Barrett said...

I am sorry about your wife's grandmother. Parkinson's Disease is tough. Editing would be a very interesting experience and it's for a good cause.
I have to admit, your wife must be a hoot.

MT Nickerson said...

Really have to find a way to get this project done. My wife suggested that we have folks over and then record stories. Where there's a will..