I Need Topics

Here I am again. Thank goodness for Outlook and that little reminder that pops up when I check my email. "Write!" it implores me. So here I am. I need some topics to inspire me. But nothing. So I'll just ramble on for a few minutes.

Next month I'm going to the Chautauqua Institution for a week. My very kind brother and sister-in-law invited me because it's writers week and they thought I would enjoy it. I'm going to hear the speakers every day (Amy Tan; E.L. Doctorow; Joyce Carole Oates; Gary Trudeau; and a poet whose name escapes me). I'm taking a writing class while I'm there, one on memoirs and family. They say there will be only twelve people in the class, and I'm a little afraid they will all be much more experienced and better writers than I. I guess I'll find out.

I'm hoping my musings here will exercise my writing muscles at least a bit. Today it sounds flat. I guess I'm just tired. We were up until midnight last night waiting for the boys to get home. This morning I overcame my desire to stay in my jammies all day and read the NY Times and instead went to my 9:00 a.m. exercise class, then came home and planted four flats of impatiens and begonias, then went to the pool for two hours, then went to a neighborhood graduation party until a few minutes ago.

Which reminds me. A guest at the party is a Pittsburgh Steeler, and my son asked for his autograph, since his birthday is this week. The Steeler was a gentleman and graciously signed something for him. I wonder if football players find it annoying to go to a neighborhood picnic and have people ask for autographs. Once I was at the mall buying a particular Steelers jersey for my nephew, and that particular Steeler came into the store at that moment. I bought the shirt and he signed it for me, and the other patrons kept telling me how lucky I was. I thought I was just asking for a simple favor, which he seemed happy to give, but it probably gets old after a while.

Nothing inspiring today. Maybe tomorrow.