Monday Musings: On Stories, Concerts, & Speechlessness…


It’s 5 minutes to 1am, and I am about done for. Physically, mentally…it’s been a busy, trying weekend all the way around and I still have a load of laundry to take out of the dryer, and another one to dry before I sleep. So if I ramble a bit more than normal, well…you should be used to that, actually.

It all started Friday night, when I made a last minute decision that hubby and I should move the couch we were giving away out of the basement and into the garage ourselves, rather than having strangers come in to get it. The couch weighs a million pounds (you think I jest…but seriously, it’s an old couch from the 70’s, with a solid metal frame for the sleeper part), and we wrestled it all the way across the basement and up a flight of stairs. Neither of us being professional furniture movers, we knew it was going to hurt the next day, just not really how *much*, or where.

Of course this put me into “superwoman” mode, and while I’d previously decided to leave the office cleaning/reorganizing until a less-busy time, I decided to go ahead and start on Saturday. As you can see from the photo above, I managed to get everything taken out, two tables and a chair sold on our local FB rummage page, and the new writing booth put into place. Unfortunately, my living room & dining room are still covered in old office remnants that need to be gone through and either tossed or put in a new home.

In any case, I spent a lot of time waiting on people to come get stuff this weekend too – that couch and the other office furniture. Last weekend, I bought my writing booth off the rummage sale, and had it delivered. A few weeks ago, I freecycled some old aquariums I had sitting around. And you know what the one common thing I noticed with all but one of the people who stopped by for one reason or another?

They all wanted to tell me a story.

We use stories to relate to each other, so really, what they wanted to do was connect. And for the most part, I enjoyed listening, though I did wonder how many of them would be so talkative if they’d known I’m a writer. Not that I’d tell anyone else’s story without obscuring names, places, etc.

As if the office project wasn’t enough this weekend, hubby and I also managed to squeeze in two concerts at the county fair going on this week. Train on Saturday night, which was incredibly popular and thus crazy-full of people, and Adelita’s Way and Pop Evil on Sunday night, which was…decidedly less popular, but the better of the two, IMO. Part of it is the acoustics at our local entertainment arena – they’ve always sucked, and they still do, so unless you sit in the “sweet spot”, it’s nearly impossible to hear the vocals of any band.

In any case, I was once again interested in the different demographics for each concert as well as the personalities of the performers, but that will have to be a post all on its own. Suffice it to say, communication is a fascinating thing, and so is relatability.

Last but certainly not least, I was struck nearly speechless this weekend, which as you might imagine, doesn’t happen to me all that often. Words are an interesting thing, really. Sometimes you just skim them and maybe something catches your eye that makes you want to read deeper, and sometimes not. Too often not, actually.

But sometimes you read something that speaks to something in you personally in a way that you really can’t put into words. Or you could, rather, if you gave it a lot of time and effort, but to do so feels like it would cheapen that sense of deep meaning you got from it. I read something that hit me like that this weekend – a poem written by a writer friend that really struck just the right chord with me to resonate so deeply I didn’t even want to really analyze it further, I just wanted to let it…be what it was, without comment. Even now, I really don’t want to tell you anything else about it, because I don’t want to fall into analytical mode and somehow lose the way it makes me feel in lieu of actual, coherent thought.

So, since it’s a public FB post, I’ll simply link to it, and perhaps you’ll get the same feeling of depth that I did (and if not, I’m betting you’ll still enjoy it).

The Unsmashed Pumpkin by Ford Forkum

Now it’s 2am, and I have to be up at 6am. So off to bed I go.

Enjoy this post? Support your author:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | All Romance eBooks | Smashwords
Audible | iTunes

One comment on “Monday Musings: On Stories, Concerts, & Speechlessness…

  1. Carol

    Your office looks amazing! You even have your mini juke box! It looks like the perfect spot to create a new book series. 😉

    Thank you for posting the link to Ford’s poem – I don’t know how I missed it on FB.