My “Writing Day:” where it went
7 -9 am:
1) Got up.
2) Made coffee.
3) Unloaded the dishwasher.
4) Did morning stretches.
5) Poured coffee.
6) Wrote morning pages about being frustrated with my writing.
7) Checked e-mail.
8) Fixed breakfast.
9) Read the front section of the newspaper while eating.
10) Put the dishes in the dishwasher.
11) Started a load of laundry.
12) Watered plants.
13) Dressed and gathered up gym things.
14) Left for the gym, going back for a Netflix movie, which was already in my gym bag.
15) Mailed movie.
16) Worked out.
17) Drove home.
18) Jotted down a quote heard on the radio for use in a poem. Put the quote aside to think about how to use in a poem.
19) Put laundry in the dryer.
20) Googled the composer to verify the quote.
21) Updated the Netflix queue.
22) Went through e-mail, reviewing and responding to documents related to church committee work.
23) Read “Frazz” comics on the Internet.
24) Read several articles on the New York Times website.
Noon – 3 p.m.:
25) Fixed tuna salad for lunch.
26) Ate, chatted with spouse and read more of the newspaper.
27) Cleaned up the kitchen and swept the floor.
29) Took a brief swim and read the rest of the newspaper by the pool, doing the Jumble and crossword.
30) Filed my nails.
31) Dressed and did hair and make-up.
32) Unloaded the dryer and put things away.
33) Sorted and read the mail.
34) Wrote a sympathy note to a friend.
35) Responded to a Facebook message notifying me of the death of a former co-worker.
36) Posted an item on Facebook about the movie I saw last night and commented on other postings.
37) Got a snack.
38) Got organized to write.
39) Worked on “Alpine” poem.
40) Got a headache, took ibuprofen, lay down for 10 minutes, got an idea for using the quote.
41) Wrote and printed “A Piano in the Kitchen” to take to my critiquing group.
42) Wrote and printed this on the other side.
Here is the poem:
A Piano in the Kitchen
“I have a piano in the kitchen so that I can start composing even as the kettle boils for my first morning cup of tea.” (Paul Lewis, English composer, b. 1943)
I imagine being a well-off composer living in a big country house in England where I would
have enough room alongside the long pine table, an island with hanging copper pots and
a black and white tile floor that perfectly sets off the black and white keys of the
piano, which might be a spinet, an upright, a baby grand or even a concert grand
in all its splendor, next to a big bay window letting in the watery English sunlight or
the splattering sound of rain, making music as the kettle boils and I have a cup of tea in my
kitchen, except I would more likely have coffee and a computer or perhaps even an easel in my kitchen.