Little, dirty, white, yippy dogs!

I picked up a few books at the library on writing as a way to tutor myself in the art and form of writing. Life has been a little hectic with the arrival of our third baby, but now that I am suppose to be physically resting, a nearly impossible task, I am able to sit down and focus on writing. One of the books I picked up said to just sit down and to write. It said writing is work, don't wait to be inspired, if you want to write then write, write as if you are talking to an old friend that you ran into on the street. Oh, I can do that. My friends say that I talk too much, so writing won't be a problem! Here is my first short story/writing:

Yesterday I was standing at my kitchen sink listening to the countless time my neighbor’s eight, dirty, little, white dogs all started barking at once. What is their reason? No one knows, probably not even them, but it is the most unnerving sound. I often think it is one of my children crying in their sleep or worse waking up during my treasured moments of solitude at the end of the day. The barking sounds like the dogs are being tortured or better yet murdered. I’ve had murder on my heart many times when I hear that bizarre noise start. I typically love animals, but that noise is worse than nails on a chalkboard or a ceaseless fire alarm. When they start barking when the kids are crying, I just have to take a pause, breathe, and put aside my anxiety to remain calm for those around me.

I should have known better when we first looked at this house. The crazy looking older woman with her three little dogs on the gate lined stairs and huge palm jungle on the porch. I just couldn’t pass up the price or size of this house that was mostly updated. I knew we would be able to get a return on this investment while we swam in the space. Our last house was so small we about choked. I decided to overlook this one flaw, well, two, the other neighbor came across quite hostile on our first meeting and turned out to be quite paranoid.

So, in we moved. Our four year old decided to make friends with the dog owner by inviting her over. I was busy trying to clean only to find this woman was playing in the backyard with my son and a few of her puppies. She didn’t seem totally coherent. My husband quickly built a fence that ended her surprise visits to our backyard. Another warning came when her son decided to tell me that they were keeping the dogs in more until they adjusted to people living in this house again. Fall and winter quietly passed, and then spring arrived. I was so excited to be able to open my windows in March instead of waiting for July, but my new found joy was quickly extinguished by the endless barking. There is no hour that is sacred, 6am, 11pm, 2am, 3pm. There is no temperature too hot or too cold. Warnings and tickets from the city cause the barking to subside for maybe a week or two. I take a deep breath when I hear the barking start and hope it will be the only time that day because I know summer is coming and it will go on for hours.

Sometimes I finally think I’ve had enough that I will go back down to the police station and file another complaint, but I figure, what is the point. She is a crazy old woman who probably doesn’t remember that she even got a ticket a month before. She probably can’t change her habits to let one or two out at a time. She talks to them like they are her children. Her daughter won’t go into the house because it is so dirty with “dog”. I love this house, but I just want to leave this neighborhood. Another neighbor had changed their wireless account to ShutYourDogsUp! I’d love to talk to them one day.

A Writer?

The last two weeks I have been starting to see that many experiences in my life have been bringing me to where I am at right now. I mean that sounds so cliche, isn't that just one of the truths to life? All the experiences we have somehow influence and become a part of who we are now. Well, for me, I have for many years wondered what my direction is suppose to be. I've often felt I have no real hobbies or interests or passions, just making decisions that seem responsible or make sense, no sense of "feeling" about what I truly want! Uh, frustrating and empty. To most things I would just shrug and say "I don't know". Well, I am finally coming to a point, the point, where I can say, yes! that is something I would love to do! I have heard over the years, you are a good writer, you should write. What? Me? My grammar skills are poor, I have no ideas, I am just parroting what I hear someone else say. The things I do find interesting are unusual, unique, don't fit into the common niches of life. Well, maybe that is my niche. I am totally fascinated by people, who they are, what they do, the decisions they make, the life situations they find themselves in. Is it because I feel lost myself that I am drawn to finding what gives other people direction? Probably.