Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Queen of Half-baked Ideas

I am the "Queen of Half-baked Ideas" my perky friend declared, her enthusiasm unabated. "After all, if you don't have half-baked ones, there's no chance any will ever get fully done!"


But I'm a little more depressed about this dilemma than she  is. 

Just a few extra lifetimes would do the trick. That would allow me to finish them all:
Compile a Children's CD, Worship CD, love song and piano instrumental  CD. Sell books on Amazon. Sell Real Estate. Be a music therapist. Administrate an Arts Organization. Get my masters. Work on an archaeological dig in Israel. Play at more weddings.

Obstacles abound and block my reach of these goals. They loom in front of me like green hairy monsters! Things like:

Organizing the garage.
Cleaning my drawers.
Changing out the paper in my kitchen cabinets.
Uncluttering my desk (my laptop desktop included, which is always crowded with documents and photos I need to file or send to facebook or email to relatives).

Speaking of pictures.

With 5 kids, I have boxes of them. Pretty boxes I might add, in every corner of the house, in every closet, patiently waiting to be put in scrapbooks that are chronically 10 years behind. There's a box for each of the 5 mostly grown children, husband, grandmothers/fathers (ancestors) and then a box for each of the 10 years I am behind in.

As I write I am buried under 30 years of saved birthday, anniversary and Valentine cards. I need more boxes. No zip lock bags. No, I need a course in clutter management!! (I did find a 'first year' anniversary card from my hubby that I'm going to show him in 2 days when we celebrate our 35th, that I was quick to use to validate my penchant for saving all things sentimental).

I argue myself down that my great ambitions can't be tackled until these nagging projects are completed.

And it feels

Then there's laundry and floors and toilets that come back every week screaming,

 "C L E A N ME "!!

So the aspirations remain immature, gangley-legged and peach fuzz-faced.

My mother used to worry incessantly about her disorganized desk. If the subject of the Rapture came up, she would go on about getting her life in order and straightening up her desk! She surmised that the mess of bills and letters would be a bad witness to those who were left behind, I guess.

I've joined my exuberant friend in her royal court of "Queen of Half-baked Ideas." Her brain-child is  a clever children's book and has asked me to write a song for the story.

We are planning to do this between 1:00 and 2:00 am in the morning when we both are free. Then our projects may at last come out of the oven,

fully baked, done in the middle, and golden brown outside.

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