writers must write

You'd think with the excitement of Christmas, kids home and all, I'd be bubbling with writing ideas. Not.

All writers face this. I read somewhere that writers shouldn't give in to "writers block." We don't write only when we feel like writing, we write no matter what. Even when there's nothing to say, we write something. And hopefully the ideas start flowing again.

So. My son David, who's home for the week, mentioned, "no blogging lately, mom." So here you go, reading the nothing that I have to say.

Christmas was nice. (I try not to use that word, thanks to my 8th grade English teacher Mr. Stanko.) But Bill's mom was under the weather and didn't join us. Dan and Jenny weren't here. So it seemed low-key.

We watched Mamma Mia, the DVD Katie gave us. Fun all over again. The boys weren't too excited.

We've brewed a lot of coffee and eaten too many peanut blossom cookies.

My friend Beth called for my cornbread dressing recipe. On Christmas morning!? I love her!

We've played a few games. I cannot beat David in speed Scrabble. Darn.

In a salute to the new year, I'm cleaning up my study. This exercise seems to need repeating about every 3 months, so I get pretty discouraged.

We've shopped a little and today saw the movie, Slumdog Millionaire. I don't know how my son talked me into an R-rated movie, and it was scary for this old bird. It was his early treat for all our January/February birthdays. I liked it but hope I don't have nightmares.

To top off the evening, David kindly pointed out that in one year I'll get the senior rate at the movies. whoopee!

Writers block is a bummer. But I press on.