My hands are not adept at drawing or painting, although I wish they were. My hands are fairly adept at writing, though, or at least they were. I find that lately, I’ve been doing less writing. I don’t mean to imply that I haven’t been writing poems and stories (although I haven’t actually been writing much fiction), because I have, but I’ve been doing a lot more typing than normal lately and a lot less actual picking-up-a-pencil-and-writing-something-down.
I take a lot of pride in my handwriting. It’s small and neat, and my cursive is pretty. I get a lot of complaints from my husband that it’s too small to read, but that’s a matter of opinion. 😉😄
I have the time for writing at the moment, though, so I really should be doing more of it. But there are so many other projects that need attention…If I could afford to retire tomorrow, I would definitely not be bored. I have more than enough projects and story ideas to keep me busy for a very long time. But retirement is a dream, and a far, far away one at that (especially with the market in the shape that it’s in – I just got my quarterly IRA statement and I’ve put off opening it for a week because I don’t think I can handle that much negativity).
Besides, right now my hands are needed for cooking and playing games with the kids and so many other things. Writing will still be there when they’re all grown. Writing will always be there.
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