Nacho Cheese

Writer's Workshop Prompt #3: What do you find

most challenging about blogging?

Those of you who have been with me for a good long while know that I'm well into my third year of this blogging janx. I've pretty much put myself out there, and let the bird detritus fly where it may. You also may have noticed that, of late, I've been a woefully bad bloggy correspondent.

Here are a few reasons why:

10. I never meant to go two weeks between posts. But I've discovered that my avocation (The Scholastic Scribe) and my vocation sometimes aren't comfortable companions. And I need to grade more than a few papers to pay the bills.

9. A former student warned me a couple of months ago that I was getting too close to my subject. I have since realized, however, that Principal Man and His Merry Band of Idiots are either a) too dense or b) too preoccupied to pay much attention to my voice in the wilderness.

8. Speaking of Principal Man, I've started to feel just a wee bit sorry for the guy. A local Internet forum has been doing quite a bit of its own bashing, criticizing not only his management of Our Humble High School, but his clothes, his weight, his tendency to happily ride a "tsunami of shame" from high school to high school, where he is mocked by both students and staff. Oh, and his salary, which clocks in at a healthy $249,000 per annum. Quite a lot for an incompetent doofus, correctamundo?

7. The necessity of blog maintenance and upkeep has begun to feel ginormous to me. Listen, I was the chica who used to post every day, and that insanity went on for two years. No, I don't know how I maintained that output, but I think all that slogging through the blogosphere is having a delayed effect on my psyche. I call it PTBD ~ Post Traumatic Blogging Disorder.

6. I'm 39 posts away from 1,000. With that milestone looming, your intrepid Scribe is feeling a tad bit intimidated.

5. Writer's block has become a common malady, of late. See #7 and #6 for further clarification.

4. I feel that I'm in danger of repeating myself. I've never had this problem. Seriously. Perhaps #7, #6 and #5 have something to do with this?

3. Twitter has recently begun to suck the oxygen out of my atmosphere. I've suddenly become obsessed with "microbursts."

2. As part of my recent Twitter fixation, I've also become preoccupied with making #nachos a "trending topic."

1. Please help me in my campaign. I hit 1,000 tweets sometime around 9 last night. One of them had to do with my #nacho obsession.

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie...

Mama Kat's Prompt #3: Share a summer camp memory.

I went to sleep-away camp, but I didn't stay long.

As I approached my 10th summer, Mom decided that Girl Scout Camp was a great idea. In my innocence, I really couldn't discern a difference between a Girl Scout Camp and a Girl Scout Cookie. I think, perhaps, I envisioned a lake and a couple of cabins and Thin Mints in the dining hall at every meal. Extras, natch, for breakfast and midnight snacks.

Most of my nascent troop, including our leader's daughter, Linda, signed up to go for a week in July. The camp was about two hours from our house, on a lake, in the woods. As the end of school neared, Linda and I got all revved up. We were gonna swim. We were gonna roast marshmallows. We were gonna tell scary stories around the campfire at night.

We were gonna sing those dorky Girl Scout songs, about making new friends, et al. Anything involving Thin Mints was OK with me.

No one told me, however, that the 'rents weren't invited. Or my little sister, pictured above (she's the short one; I'm the dork with no fashion sense).

Can you say "Mama's Girl"? We traveled by bus up to the camp in the woods. On the lake. With, perhaps, the Thin Mints in the dining room. My folks came to pick me up a couple hours later.

If you give a mouse a cookie, odds are that she still might miss her Mommy.

Oscar Mayer

Sing, Sing a Song

I've written a few times about this space, my landlocked, suburban oasis. Shady in the morning, Alicia burbling her repetitive fountain song between the grapefruit "trees" (plants, really) that are a product of a long-ago breakfast and the bottle "tree" that never needs water, but which gets its glass blooms replaced every summer season.

With seven more school days left 'til I clock out for two months, I've retreated to my back deck to ponder life's mysteries ~ such as why the hummingbird hardly ever stays long enough for me to snap his picture.

Yes, Mr. Hummer was here just now, flighty as ever. But Alicia is my rock. I think I need to spend a little more time with her today.

Splish, Splash!

OK, I admit it. I've been in a funk, of late. Temps hovering near 100, humidity to match, all the yin and the yang of the waning days of school have got me ill-tempered.

But my cherubs will be on their merry way out the door of Room 215 in a little more than a week. Then I'm free to investigate more noble pursuits: ie, trips to see my Chicas, excursions to The OBX, putzing around in the garden, et al.

I vowed to get some inspiration this evening. While cruising through my photo folders, I uncovered this gem from a couple years back. Shot at Ye Olde Swimming Hole, this snap bespeaks of my eagerness to said "adios" to the 2010-2011 school year and be done with it.

Yup, I reckon I'm ready to get the Hell out of Dodge.