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12/06/2014

days like these


My husband and mother-in-law left early this morning to help green our church for Advent and Christmas. I'm getting over a stubborn head cold, so I slept in until I could will myself out of a NyQuil stupor.

I enjoyed the peaceful quiet, momentarily interspersed with the exuberant voices of boys playing football in our neighbors' yard across the street. (Later the game moved out into the street. One shorter kid repeatedly protested, "Really?? I'm wide open here!")

I filled the French Press with decaf Sumatra, peeled and savored clementines, and mulled over the parallel glory of Revelation 7 and Ezekiel 9. I made scrambled eggs in coconut oil, and gluten-free toast smothered in local, raw honey.

After breakfast, I carried the French Press up to my office — I was not about to waste any of that precious dark roast coffee. I need to finish reading Lila by Marilynne Robinson by tomorrow for a writing assignment due next week, so I reveled in the luxury of reading page after page after page, and taking several pages of notes. 

Some time later my husband texted, "Are you hungry? We're going to Torchy's Tacos." Um, yes. Please. He brought home 2 Mr. Oranges — salmon and other goodness wrapped in corn tortillas.

I made a cup of tea, read some more, and listened to a Spotify playlist created by a friend called "Jenni."

Then I stumbled upon a poem by Marilyn McEntyre via Ruminate Magazine's Instagram feed. Writers do indeed rely on the following things, and also days like these.


What Writers Rely On

Coffee
Gossip
An ear for local speech.
Their third grade English teachers.
Overheard conversation.
Accurate facts.
Awe.
Irreverence.
Childhood wounds.
Ruthless editors.
Dreams
Tolerant families.
Very sharp pencils.
Strong verbs.
Fat dictionaries.
Shakespeare.
Ambiguity.
A cat in the window.
Or a dog on the beach.
Clean windows and wide views.
Etymology.
The refrigerator hum.
Iambic pentameter.
Eccentric relatives.
Bus rides.
Passion.
Detachment.
Good visual memories.
User-friendly software.
Money.
Air conditioning.
Or heat.
Long walks.
Readers.

2 comments:

Rebecca D. Martin said...

A hearty "Yes" to that poem and to this day of yours.

jenni said...

Thanks, Rebecca. :)