I really miss writing my blog. I watch things swirl around me in my small confined world and think, "I would love to write about that", and then I sit for 30 minutes and compose master pieces in my head. One of the reasons I gave up the blog was because since I had the brain bleed and accompanying brain surgery my words don't always freely flow like they once did. Many times I have to set a thought aside and wait a bit for the desired word to suddenly pop up unbidden. If I search hard for that perfect word it will evade me for hours at a time, but if I act as if I really don't care any more and set my mind to thinking of other words and equally brilliant things the word will, of it's own accord, come popping into the middle of my "barely muddled barbiturate (pain pill) laced thoughts". I do that a bit when I am trying to relate something to my son David. I'll all of a sudden say, "There, there it is. That's the word I wanted to use when I used that other word I didn't want to use." David finds little humor in this. He has gotten a bit serious as he has aged, so as a general rule, by the time the word has shown itself he has thrown his arms in the air and walked away. I generally spend some part of each day repeating the mantra, "David, I've got the word. David, where'd you go? I know what the word is now." The grandkids? The kids handle my word flow problem differently ..... they just avoid talking to me as much as possible.
Of course, the above paragraph is tongue in cheek, but I do have a bit of a problem with some of my favorite words getting lost in the mish-mash I call my 'after surgery' brain. My doctor says part of that is that catchall thing called aging. That makes me feel a bit better (it means I don't have brain word damage). I had such a nice large variable vocabulary. I find it a bit disconcerting to have to struggle to find that perfect word for what I am trying to express. The only time I feel totally relaxed with my word flow during discussions is when I talk to my friend Scott. He turned 70 last August. He only has a fifth grade education so his vocabulary is limited, notwithstanding the passel of words that he makes up, convinced that they are alive and residing, safe and warm, in a dictionary in some library. He also does things like adding 'k's' where there should be 't's' (Example: K-Mart said by Scott becomes K-Mark). When I visit with him I can lose all kinds of words and he doesn't know the difference. I can even throw in a few 'k's' and 't's' and he thinks I am the most word proficient woman he has ever met. It makes for my only totally stress free conversations. Unless you count the hours I talk to my dog.
This has been like coming home. It has been so much fun. I guess I should make an announcement "Hey Guys, I'm Back! Did you miss me. I sure as hell missed you!"