Water

Hmm, I've spent a ton on time on or near the water. Living in Apalachicola as a kid meant access to St. George Island as well as the Apalachicola River. In Delaware for a month we lived in the Henelopen Hotel, right on the boardwalk with the Atlantic Ocean outside our door (while we waited for our double-wide trailer to be moved up there). Then we lived in a trailer park with a pool--it seemed like heaven. In Whigham, the Flint River wasn't far away, and my family had a small cabin on Lake Seminole near Chattahoochee, Florida (site of the hospital/prison for mentally disturbed folks--that makes for some fright when you hear strange noises in the night).

After Wes and I married and lived in Tallahassee, we spent a week every year at the state park on St. George Island, staying in my parents' Winnebago. It was the only vacation we could afford when I was working on my PhD at Florida State, but it was a great vacation. We still try to get to the beach for a week every year, usually with his side of the family, and then we visit for long weekends whenever possible. Wes's brother has a place at Lake Eufala, and we love it there too. I think we both need water. (Yes, I know I need drinking water too, but that's not what I mean. Those of you in this summer's ISI know how much I struggle to drink water for the Muppets, which might be why I "spilled" my water bottle yesterday. Oops!)

Water refreshes me spiritually. I don't even have to go into the water. I just need to be near it, to watch the baby waves crash against the shore (if you've been to St. George Island, you know it doesn't usually have real waves), to hear the sea gulls scream. I watch ghost crabs scramble across the sands, darting furtively, watching for intruders, peeking out from their homes. Ghost crabs are the beach version of prairie dogs.

I wonder what St. George Island will be like in July. Will the oil reach our shores by then? Will I be able to lower myself into a beach chair and, more importantly, hoist myself back out?

Oh my gosh, I've become that woman I never wanted to be, the one consumed by what's happening inside me, focused on the Muppets to the exclusion of much else. Well, that's not quite true, except for my writing. When I sit down in a quiet place to write, my mind inevitably turns to them, to their progress (currently the size of cantaloupes), to their traits (smart? funny? cute?), to their health (am I staying out of the paint fumes in the ISI room enough?). I guess I'll be obssessed about them for the rest of my life, but it's still weird to me.

I like how quiet the room is this year--or at least today--while I'm writing. I like sitting across from Rebecca. She always makes me laugh because she makes good faces when she writes. Patti is a facemaker too, but not Sarah. Sarah bends over her paper, shielding her face from the eyes of others, writing by hand, her pen moving smoothly across the page. Patti's fingernails click on the keyboard, but not Kristy's. Kristy is a quiet typer, one who focuses on her keyboard and screen.

Okay, bathroom time, courtesy of the Muppets. I'll be back.

And I'm back. Hmm, water works? I've lost my train of thought. Maybe I'll just list potential topics and ask my friends online to generate some more. I want new freewriting prompts for this year rather than the same ones we've used in the past. Feel free to chime in with some more.

Potential topics:

• radio ads
• board games
• family rituals
• obssessions
• high school drama
• reality tv
• perceptions vs. reality
• stereotypes
• first car
• biking
• the need for speed
• breaking the law
• punked

Any more ideas, anyone?