Thursday Thirteen #6

Thirteen Things From My Life That Begin With "D"

in no particular order

1. Deadlines. For a writer, they're part of every day life, and they can be pure hell. Learning the discipline of writing is essential because there's nothing that can kill the muse faster than having to be creative on demand. But you know what they say . . . the only thing worse than having a deadline is not having a deadline.

2. Diapers. For eighteen years or so, these little things disappeared from my life. Now they're back, and I couldn't be more delighted.

3. Daughters. They're my kids and my best friends. They get me when no one else does. For every minute of grief or worry they've brought me, they've given me three minutes of joy.

4. Decorate. When I have the time and the energy, I love to decorate for the holidays. Unfortunately both of the above things have been in short supply the last few years. I didn't even bother putting up a Christmas tree last year -- and that's not like me.

5. Dreams. For most of my life, I haven't remembered my dreams. I suppose I did dream, but I never remembered what I dreamed about except an occasional recurring dream about being chained in a tower in a medieval castle. That dream is gone and now I dream about things like working for my old boss and frantically trying to get to work while something is obstructing my path.

6. Dogs ... of course. There's Angel, my poorly socialized dog with ADHD and OCD. Those of you who hang around here a lot know that I blog about her occasionally. And there's Sammi (no relation) who is my oldest daughter's dog and who currently lives with me. She's a noisy "little" thing (little only by comparison to Angel who, I swear, is part giraffe, part gazelle, and part kangaroo) who barks every time a leaf moves on the street and refuses to take treats when you're leaving the house because ... well, because you're leaving. As if not taking the treat will make you stay, I guess. I'm really not sure what goes on inside her head.

7. Dance. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a professional dancer. More specifically, I wanted to be a June Taylor dancer, but I don't think I ever confessed my professional dance aspirations aloud, and I think they died away somewhere before I was 8. Besides being a novelist, being a June Taylor dancer is the only thing I ever really wanted to be when I grew up.

8. Dad. I have one, as do all of you :) Mine passed away on October 6, 2006 at the age of 82. He was a World War II Veteran who loved the great outdoors and dreamed of being a Park Ranger when he was a young man. He grew up on a farm and spent so many hours working in the fields, he almost didn't graduate from high school. That near miss bothered him his entire life.

9. Daydreaming. I'm all for it, and I'm lucky. I'm a writer. Daydreaming is my job!

10. Dictionary. In 7th grade, I made a poster that was supposed to read "How To Develop your Mental Abilities." I misspelled two words on that poster, so it ended up reading "How to Develope your Mental Abbilities." Not only did the other kids in my class make fun of me, but the teacher did too -- and this right after she laughed at me because I didn't know how to spell marijuana. (This was before it was a household word where I lived, and I was absent the day we learned what it was.) This all happened the year after I had Mr. Graybill, the world's most obnoxious teacher, in 6th grade. Mr. Graybill made the leather wallet I was crafting for my dad (see above) a public example of how not to do leatherwork. The public humiliation I felt over that stupid poster nearly did me in, but I became best friends with the dictionary that day. After that, I could out-spell almost everyone I knew. Even my Straight-
A Sister -- the one who graduated 3rd in her class -- asked me how to spell words.

11. Deployment. As some of you know, my son-in-law is currently deployed with the Air Force in the Middle East. He's willing to be there because he believes that if we don't fight them over there, we'll have to fight them here on our own soil. All I can say is, war looks a whole lot different when it comes knocking on your own front door than it does when it's an abstract principle.

12. Dishwasher. It's my favorite modern convenience.

13. Down East. Where I wish I lived!