Two Down, One to Go

Wednesday marked another milestone for my family.  My #2 son left college campuses behind him for good, packed up his family and set out into the real world.  With his Master's in mechanical engineering in hand, in another couple of weeks he'll start work with his new employer, Samsung, in a bedroom community of Austin, Texas.

They moved only about 102 miles from their apartment in College Station, but in their change in circumstances, they're moving to the other side of the moon.  Instead of starving students relying on scholarships and student loans to keep body and soul together as they have done for the past four years of their married life, a well-paying job promises comfort, security, and elimination of their debt.  Instead of a two-bedroom apartment growing increasingly smaller the larger their toddler and two cats grow, they are renting a new-ish, clean and well-maintained four-bedroom home with 2½ baths and a two-car garage in a nice neighborhood.  Filling up those rooms with furniture will take some time, but they've already made their first installment with a new flat-pack dining table and chairs.

Efficiency

As I mentioned in my last post here, my #2 son, Dallas II, is a writer.  (When writing, for disambiguation, I refer to him as D2). He was the editor of his high school newspaper, The Bearchat, his senior year, and penned a widely followed and eagerly anticipated humor column in it for two years.  

I, of course, am his #1 fan.  I claim this distinction over his wife, Lynda, because I have been cheering for and laughing with him the longest.  Even so, it delighted me to learn that  he found an eternal companion who laughs at his (admittedly occasionally obscure) jokes as much as I do.

D2 has just graduated from Texas A&M with a master's degree in mechanical engineering.  He, his wife, and their 15-month-old son will be moving to Austin, Texas, in a few weeks, where he will begin making microchips at Samsung.

While I hope I can claim some of the credit for his love of reading, I blame him at least partially for my eclectic taste.  Through him, I discovered authors such as Orson Scott Card (The Ender's Saga), Robert Jordan (The Wheel of Time), Brian Jacques (Redwall), J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter), and J.R.R. Tolkien (Lord of the Rings).  He writes engrossing speculative fiction with a delightfully wry voice.

D2 is currently on vacation, and I thought it would be a perfect time to hit him up a guest post for this blog.  I guess he's bored because the following was his response to my query.  Enjoy.

— Penny Freeman

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Efficiency 

by Dallas Freeman, II

The Art of Inspiration (or lack thereof)

What is it about a computers that make my mind as blank as the screen when I sit down to write? Why do I lay in bed desperately trying to fall asleep but unable to quiet the ideas bouncing about? Why can I compose in my head while I'm cooking or washing dishes or taking a shower, but I cannot use my fingers and my brain at the same time?

Of course, I can't use my mouth and my brain at the same time, so maybe that one is not quite so surprising.

And, it doesn't matter what I write, from chapters in a book to personal letters to answering email in some sort of coherent fashion. There's a turn somewhere between the input and the output that I can't quite navigate at times. In point of fact, when answering email, I usually hit the send button before my brain engages, so I end up sending addenda, corrections, retractions, post scripts, ad infinitum.

This is how it works. Today is missionary letter day, so I resolve to write a decent one. I even know what I'm going to write. I sit down at the computer, and of course, I have to check my email. There's usually a fair bit of that, so I have to delve into the politics of the day and express my trite, inconsequential opinions lest anyone be in doubt that I have any (ha!). Then, it's imperative that I check out the absolutely last day of free shipping and internet only offers at Coldwater Creek or L. L. Bean or Old Navy. Someone from Relief Society has a question of utmost import, so that has to be researched and answered.

And, look at that! Lily Evans has thrown a sheep at me and Cami has written on my wall and Dixie says it's my turn at Scrabble and Julie has beaten my best time on puzzle 19582237, so, off to Facebook I go. It would be extremely rude to ignore such gestures of good will. With 165 friends, there's always someone wanting something. Hmm. Flora wants to be my friend. Flora?? Oh! I know you. You're Paul's best friend's second cousin once removed. Silly me.

D2 says Facebook is a waste of time. He doesn't know what he's talking about.

After meeting all my social obligations, I decide to eat breakfast (sometime closing on noon), and one can't write while eating, so the only thing to do is solve puzzles on Puzzlebee. There goes another hour. Then, while zoning out on that, an idea pops in my mind for one of the blogs. Gotta take care of that while it's in my head! And research! People want to know these things and I'd better be right if I'm going to tell them. And, maybe just one game of mahjong. Just one. I promise.

Did I mention that I'm the website coordinator/approver/whatever for my ward? Can't slack off on that responsibility. Notifications have been sent. An activity for the Primary has been added to the calendar and needs approval. While I'm at it, new callings have been issued. Releases have been made. The leadership rolls need updating.

I'm also the ward dry-pack specialist and there's that whole post-Ike preparedness evaluation I need to write, but first, I'll write the letter.

And another thing: Christmas is coming. I better order the presents for the daughters-in-law while I still can. They tend to disappear closer to Christmas. One must research, shop, compare, evaluate, bid, rebid, re-re-bid. It's exhausting.

Maybe just one more game of mahjong.

The clock sneaks up and bashes me upside the head. I load WordPerfect. (My rabid hatred of MS Word is another subject entirely). I stare at the screen, then pop up to put some clothes in the washer, wash the two bowls and a three spoons that are in the sink, get something out of the freezer for dinner, make my bed (really make it, not just tug the blankets straight when we get up in the morning), and pull out the Swiffer to get the sticky spots off the kitchen floor.

And, of course, the entire time stuff I will write bounces around in my head. I think my ideas are like vermin. The light goes on and everything scurries back into the walls.

Ten hours later, here I sit writing about how I can never write. Dinner's over, the dishes are done, the laundry is fluffed, folded and put away, and Dallas (the hubby) has retreated into the bedroom to sleep in front of NCIS. I guess I better start that letter. I think I procrastinate until he's home just so I appear industrious. It also helps to have something quiet to do to keep from disturbing his nap.

Plus, he doesn't catch me playing mahjong until my eyes glaze over.

Dang. Eight o'clock. Time to take a shower so my hair will be dry before I go to bed. I'll write the letter after that.