At last! I can write. I’ve a paper and pen and my “office” at the library…
Not that I don’t have an office at home. I have a sweet little room I call my garden library. My computer desk sits on a wall in front of a window facing west. The view is to die for. The woods are ablaze with golds and scarlets.
Maybe that’s the problem, a distracting view. But I doubt it. The problem is that I refuse to sit at a computer and write. I need a pen, paper and a place – almost any place away from home. I once wrote a beautiful “October” column in my car in the driveway of Salem United Methodist Church (by the way, if you haven’t time or gas money for Brown County, just take Kissel Road to Salem United Methodist Church).
I’ve written columns on napkins, envelopes and grocery sacks. My children (you remember Sparkplug and Rainbow) learned before first grade not to throw away any paper with pen or pencil marks. Marks that look like scribbles might well be my high school shorthand.
Yes, I took high school shorthand. I have the 120-word pin to prove it. Betty Goodloe got a pin for 200 words per minute. She’d have done more than that, but that was as fast as Mr. Martin could talk.
But I digress. When I was diagnosed with a scary illness, my son gave me sage advice: “Mom,” he said, “go to your happy places.”
So here I am, in my official office: A comfy chair in the southeast corner of Hussey-Mayfield Memorial Library, top floor. It’s one of my happy places. So is Main Street. So is the Ohio River.
I’m lucky. I have lots of happy places. So do you. Life is short. Do yourself a favor. Go visit those places – soon and often. Sparkplug was right.