"Write now is good."

Now, THIS is a big turnoff!

Photo: Swamp TV. by James Good

A big TV turnoff, that is.

April 21-27, 2008 is TV Turnoff Week. Starting tomorrow, millions of TV gazers worldwide will dare to hide their remotes and cut the cord for seven days. Past reported results are astounding. Many have experienced:

- increased creativity
- more time with family and friends
- better quality sleep ... and more of it
- additional time spent enjoying the outdoors, often walking
- a greater sense of calm and relaxation
- the ability to sit, focus and read a book—something many had not done in years

Need some additional reasons to turn off your TV? Go to TurnOffYourTV.com.

TV Turnoff Week is every week for me. I don't watch TV at all (unless it's a DVD, something on YouTube, or something on at a friend's—I'm not anti-TV). In these times, it's difficult to unplug entirely, and there is some quality stuff worth seeing.

However, there is no way I would have time to blog or be involved in my other creative pursuits if I filled up my minuscule free time with TV watching.

What are your top priorities in your life? Is TV one of them?

Want to write a novel? Turn off your TV and use that time for writing instead. You may have a first-draft completed before you know it.

"Blogs in Plain English" — thank you!

If you are a blogger, than you probably have had trouble explaining what a blog is, and why you blog, to those who don't.

I still fondly recall when I told a family member that I had a blog. She replied, "What? You got a dog?"

Then there was the time I told a close friend that I had a blog. She stared at me without saying a word. After a few moments passed, I explained, "It's OK. It's like a website." She replied, sighing with great relief as a huge smile came to her face, "Oh, that great!" She never did tell me what she originally thought a blog was, but judging from her initial response, it must have been horrible.

I never thought that the word "blog" would become the #1 conversation stopper in some circles in the 21st century, or that I'd be the one slamming on the brakes by simply sharing what I do. That's why I'm thanking The Common Craft Show for the following video: "Blogs in Plain English." For those not quite sure what a blog is, this short film explains it extremely well.

NOTE: The Common Craft Show has created a host of other videos, like ones about wikis, zombies and RSS, in their quest to make many aspects of modern web/tech life clear to everyone.

Review: "The Gift of Nothing"

Before you read "The Gift of Nothing" by Patrick McDonnell, try to answer these questions:

1. What do you give the person who has everything?
2. In a completely empty space, what can people create?

With its title being "The Gift of Nothing," the book's punchline is clear. What makes this story most satisfying is how it is told. Author/illustrator McDonnell uses a few well-chosen words and minimal, expressive drawings to show how one friend gives another a most appropriate present. Quality rules quantity in this world, in a clear and inspiring way.

The book's age range is advertised as 3 to 6 years old. We know many in the 6-plus group, however, who love reading "The Gift of Nothing" over and over again. If you tend towards appreciating life's rich, simple pleasures, definitely consider knowing this tale.

Root for the little guy, for he is us.

The above video, "i lived on the moon", has inspired me to poetry. It is animated by Yannick Puig, who was inspired by the band Kwoon's music to make this for their song. The combination of image, story and soundtrack are absolutely stunning.

I've been living in an imaginary world lately. My young one has reached the age where an unfamiliar sound outside the window most definitely means a lion is approaching. We instantly morph from parent and child into two explorers saving baby animals as we run from the predator, our arms full of plush creatures. Tinker toys become a satellite space station, until it breaks and spills rocket fuel all over our carpet. Then a dinosaur with a mop appears but admits it cannot clean the entire mess by itself. So three firemen, one firelady, and another dinosaur with a special "cleaning mouth" show up to help. And these were just some of today's adventures.

At this age, children create imaginary monsters and conflicts in order to problem solve, to develop mastery over social skills, to learn to deal with emotions. Seeing this now with my own child, it's so clear how this rich pretend world helps to cement feelings of self-confidence and budding independence. We have to do this, and we've all gone through this. We humans are wired to do so. The mythical quest to overcome obstacles and grow beyond them will forever be a basis of our stories — our most personal and private ones, and those we share as a culture.

Seeing my little one face and overcome these pretend, yet also very real, frights leaves me speechless most days. I've seen already that I can't provide all the answers to these big questions, but I also know that being there, like the steadiest rock, in the process, is so vitally important. This video somehow helped me find words around it:

We hold hands
To explore and imagine together,
To create and tell our stories,
To face monsters.
Our hands still touch
Even when
You are on the moon
And I am at my tree.
I will see you
Because I can fly now!
Through it,
Above it,
I can do it.
I'll be there soon.

Visit Poetry Thursday for a vast collection of poetry from our community.

Kicking out winter

I wanted to apologize to you, Wonderful Readers, for my light posting as of late. We've been "kicking out winter" here — another way I say that my family and I have been sick with colds and more for the last couple of weeks. These last (I'm sure of it) ailments are another way I think we detox from the cold, darkness and lack of activity that winter brings. I feel these sick spells are one last complete exhalation of the snow-bound energy that's taken over our bodies and psyches for the last few months, in preparation for sunlight, more time outside and running around. I can't wait.

Friends and family in other states and even other countries, people we haven't seen in awhile, are also sick. This confirms by suspicion that we're experiencing a human response to the seasonal shift. I do believe we are all tied in to planet Earth's changes, much more than we'd often like to admit, and I think that explains partially why people far and wide are also "kicking out winter."

So, how are you doing?

My energy is returning. I'll be back to posting more regularly this week. I'll also visit all of your blogs more often, too. Hope you all are well.

My yummy Great Aunt E.

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is "yummy."

My Great Aunt E. lived a full 102 years of life. She embodied a sweetness rarely found in those who’ve lived through more than a century’s worth of what debacles humans can create for each other.

Aunt E. smiled big in every picture. She hugged us warmly whenever we saw her. At every family gathering, she proclaimed how good the food looked and how wonderful we all did, too. She sent us cards emblazoned with flowers and butterflies and kittens, just to say hello, even though we lived barely a five-minute drive from each other.

Her sweetness contained not a bit of sappiness. She lived in a retired person’s apartment building, home also to an energetic activities director forever dreaming up ways to keep his charges’ circulation flowing. One day Great Aunt E. called us with more thrill in her voice than we’d heard in awhile. She had just won first-place in the walker race (as in those who use a walker to steady themselves as they step), beating out five other lady seniors, all younger than she. My great aunt went on to fiercely defend her title of “Walker Race Champion, Female” for a number of years, well into her late 80’s.

My great aunt impressed by making mysterious desserts. She called one signature cookie “sand tarts.” Completely covered with a tan grit, they looked unappetizing. She proudly described how hard she worked to make the sand look real. We never understood why and we never asked; it was a family recipe and was not to be questioned.

These homely treats surprised those bold enough to believe they were as yummy as Great Aunt E. bragged them to be. They were light and buttery with tiny pecan bits sprinkled throughout. They possessed a wide range of pleasing textures unusual in something so small. We gobbled them every time she offered them to us. Though none of us have had a sand tart for years now, we still talk about them and can almost taste them when we do.

My grandmother might have the recipe somewhere, though probably not. My great aunt, fiercely protective of her signature creations, probably kept the recipe tucked away so no one could discover her secrets. A baking competitor could be lurking nearby, looking to steal the formula and pass it off as her own at the next bake sale in her apartment building’s lobby.

Great Aunt E.’s competitive drive kept her going. Ever upping the ante in her own life, she pushed herself just to see how far she could go. She went far, and well.

For more "yummy" writing, visit this week's edition of Sunday Scribblings.