Buffalo Gal

In the chat-with-the-audience phase of Harry Chapin's near classic "30,000 Pounds of Bananas" Harry used to refer to his "lonely writer's garrett" as the place to work out problematic lyrics.
In my teens when I first heard the phrase, I thought of Rapunzel's tower with a typewriter.
As a forty-something with a home office tucked away in a living room alcove, I think of it more as a place that doesn't have to be cleaned up every time we show the house for sale and one that is out of the major family traffic patterns. Both the new and old visions have large windows to appease my claustrophia.
Last night I realized my dream.
I moved my satellite radio, a desk, a laptop, a fiing cabinet, a printer and a fan to an unused upstairs bedroom with four glorious windows.
The cats love the opened window blinds and the cool fan, so immediately installed themselves as fixtures. I have taken the first step towards being an eccentric old lady who lives with too many cats in a small apartment. I'm hoping the slope isn't too slippery.
The source material for the freelance project I'm working was arranged by chapter on the bed, until two cats scattered it with simultaneous slides worthy of the major leagues and the fan flung paper far and wide.
I've still got a few bugs to work out. I think the garrett needs to be a little more lonely.

Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs

Buffalo Gal Judi Griggs I'm a communications professional, writer, cynic, mother, wife and royal pain. The order depends on the day. I returned to my hometown in November 2004 after a couple of decades of heat and hurricanes. I can polish pristine copy, but not here. This is my morning exercise -- 20-minute takes without a net or spellcheck. It's easier than sit ups for me. No guarantee what it will be for you. Clicking on the subscribe link will send you an email notice when each new entry is posted.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (0) Share on Facebook		2004-07-07 9:23 AM Lonely writer's garrett In the chat-with-the-audience phase of Harry Chapin's near classic "30,000 Pounds of Bananas" Harry used to refer to his "lonely writer's garrett" as the place to work out problematic lyrics. In my teens when I first heard the phrase, I thought of Rapunzel's tower with a typewriter. As a forty-something with a home office tucked away in a living room alcove, I think of it more as a place that doesn't have to be cleaned up every time we show the house for sale and one that is out of the major family traffic patterns. Both the new and old visions have large windows to appease my claustrophia. Last night I realized my dream. I moved my satellite radio, a desk, a laptop, a fiing cabinet, a printer and a fan to an unused upstairs bedroom with four glorious windows. The cats love the opened window blinds and the cool fan, so immediately installed themselves as fixtures. I have taken the first step towards being an eccentric old lady who lives with too many cats in a small apartment. I'm hoping the slope isn't too slippery. The source material for the freelance project I'm working was arranged by chapter on the bed, until two cats scattered it with simultaneous slides worthy of the major leagues and the fan flung paper far and wide. I've still got a few bugs to work out. I think the garrett needs to be a little more lonely. Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs Read/Post Comments (0) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top