Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond (birdhousefrog) wrote,
Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond
birdhousefrog

Ignore the Elephant

I'm ignoring the very large elephant standing in the middle of my life, more specifically in the middle of what I call my living room. I refuse to acknowledge him. And that's that. If I ignore him, he does not exist. I made the mistake of paying attention to him the past few weeks and he grew bigger and got nastier. So now I'm ignoring him. I hope you will too.


The elephant and its needs are the reason I haven't posted this month. Never adopt a hungry elephant if you can help it.

There's a sewing machine on the table under that plastic bag. And I flunked Home Ec in 7th grade by making a Very Bad jumper. Probably on that machine at breakneck speed, the night before my project was due. My mother, on the other hand, was a genius with this machine. I wore pretty little dresses and outfits back when you didn't have to wear the latest thing made somewhere overseas.


My father saw this for the first time last night and his remark was "Your Mother did this to you?" As if he had no hand in it. See, they're moving to Boston and had to undo 32 years of their collections of STUFF (eg. paper and plastic bags). Which my mother wasn't sure she could let go. So STUFF had to come to my house or it would all go to Boston. But we're ignoring the elephant today, right? He's tomorrow's problem...cataloging and disposing of STUFF. Supervising the cleaning and spiffing of an apartment and its subsequent sale.

I think I'll go mow the lawn.

If you're reading this part, you did not succeed in ignoring the elephant, as you were politely requested to do. Sheesh. No wonder he has such a swelled head.


In other news, my writing group started up again with a bi-weekly communal writing session. I missed the first one, but the second was held at my house, which is now a centralized location. Everyone ignored the elephant, but 10 days ago he was still pretty small so it wasn't much of an effort. I had cleaned so much of the three rooms we used that the cleanliness was as much of a topic as the elephant. With the elephant around, my kitchen counter had become buried under, you guessed it, STUFF.

I disposed of some of that by feeding it to the chickens. They like tomatoes. The woodchuck, it turns out, really likes pears and apples. All of which I had on my counter. Tons. It's a farm thing.

I made a bold decision to not work on something new or in process, but instead to blow the dust off of my "Stan" story and get it properly edited. The editing went really well that night. Then the elephant got in the way, but we're not paying attention to him. So I've only been able to edit a paragraph or two in the past 10 days. But I'm determined to get this one done because it's a story that's been workshopped more than once and is as done as done can get and is one of my more traditional efforts. That should be interpreted to mean it has a chance of finding a market.

Frog Out
Tags: editing, elephant, farm, writing
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