A More Personal Note

I had a dream two nights ago that all my sister-in-law, Audrey, needed were two bags fulls of socks. The specific request was, "any color, any texture, and they don't have to match". That's all I remember about it.

My waking life has lately become as random as this dream. I have learned to knit, sew, play golf (very poorly, I probably shouldn't even count this one), instruct yoga, fish, cook, and refinish furniture. Every minute of it has been an adventure. Will I ever rediscover a practical side to myself? I suppose I still clean and clip coupons. Those things seem to be practical.

One dream that I specifically want to accomplish is to have a published piece of writing before I die. Whether it be a research article, something submitted to a magazine, or a book, I don't care. I even have a concept for a children's book that I should probably just draft for the fun of it. So many ideas, so much nonsense.

I've spent a lot of my life thinking that new ideas and creativity were for other people. What's the hang up?