Another post in the Fluff category!  Again, I’m going to describe a colour with one word… wonder if anyone will be able to tell which colour I’m thinking of?

The word:  Inscrutable.


A blog prompt I found somewhere on the Internet last night (sorry, I don’t remember which site I found it on) challenges writers to describe a colour in one word — without using the colour’s name.

I’m going to give it a try.  I’ve been thinking about this one all day;  see if you can guess which colour.

The word:  Voracious.

Play along here!

They say:  I think…

  1. Crushed :: Orange
  2. Thanks :: Welcome
  3. Steam :: Bath
  4. Bulletin :: Board
  5. Budget :: Buster
  6. Value :: Village
  7. Aquarium :: Fish
  8. Logo :: Language
  9. Information :: Kiosk
  10. Lend :: Library

Is there anything more frustrating than going out determined to spend money, and when you get there, whatever you want to buy is sold out?

I was all prepared to buy a netbook today.  I don’t really have the money;  I was pilfering from my Clicker Expo fund to do it, but it seemed like such a good deal, I couldn’t resist.

So I got up to the store, having gone through all the agonizing of “Should I?  No, I probably shouldn’t.  But it’s such a good deal.  Yes, I think I will, even though I probably shouldn’t.”  And the netbook was all sold out.

(It turns out that the price that I thought was a sale price is actually the everyday price, so it likely wasn’t as good a deal as I thought it was.  And the salesperson said more would be coming in next week, and since it was an everyday price, she couldn’t give me a rain check.)

So there I was, all ready to spend (what is for me) serious money, with nothing to buy.  I kind of went into a buying-withdrawal frenzy at that point.  I wanted to buy something, dammit!

I went to another store nearby and looked at a tablet.  The big roadblock — it’s refurbished.  Now, I’ve bought several refurbished products from this store, and they’ve all been fine.  But several people have commented lately that they’ve tried this store, and ended up buying things that don’t work.

I just wanted to buy one SO BADLY, I could hardly stand it.  Kind of scary, how badly I wanted to buy one.  But I kept it all together and got out of the store before I gave in to the almost irresistible urge to buy.

Now, I’m sitting in a coffee shop, writing this post out by hand on paper instead of typing it on my brand new netbook or tablet.  And I’m slowly starting to feel better for having withstood the craving.  Maybe next week.

“Zen is not some kind of excitement, but concentration on our usual everyday routine.”

Shunryu Suzuki


“The less routine the more life.”

Amos Bronson Alcott


“The secret of your life is hidden in your daily routine.”

Mike Murdock


“As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge.”

Henry Van Dyke


I am a creature of routine.  I adore my routine.  I like to get up in the morning, have a cup of tea, read the paper, eat breakfast.  Take the dog for a walk, come home, have another cup of tea, check my email.  Then I can shower, get dressed, and start my day.

If this routine is disrupted, I feel off.  I get cranky.  I like things to go as they are supposed to go.  I like to go to bed at the same (insanely early) time every night.  I like to watch murder documentaries while I fall asleep.  I like my days to be predictable and for things to happen when they always happen.

Of course, in between my morning routine and my evening routine, I kind of like to have a varied bunch of things to do throughout the day.  So, I have to wonder, am I really a creature of habit, or some sort of hybrid?  And is it a bad thing to be bound by routine?

As you can see by the quotes above, there are lots of opinions on this question.  I kind of like the zen quote… but, being someone who likes routine, of course I would.  I dislike the quote about routine preventing new dimensions of the soul from emerging, naturally.  So is it a good thing to have a routine, or am I hampering my creative process by sticking to the same day-in, day-out?

I can adapt, don’t get me wrong.  I can deal with it when my routine doesn’t happen.  Like I said, I get grumpy sometimes.  But I can do it.  And I don’t spend the entire day stuck into a lock-step pattern, either.

As I’m typing, I am thinking this through.  I think that actually, routine can be a help to the creative.  For myself, I know that I have to write regularly, or I don’t write at all.  If I wait for inspiration to strike, I will generally wait a long time.  A lot of the reading I have done on being a writer states that an aspiring writer should sit down on a regular basis and just write, whatever flows out the fingers.  And I know from my own experience that I write more and write better when I do just that.

So I think that rather than blocking my creativity, routine might actually be the secret that sets it free.  I am trying to set aside a certain amount of time on a regular basis to just write.  Part of that is the revival of this blog — I can come here and just do it, consciously leaving my perfectionism aside for the duration.  (Not an easy thing to do!)  I think I will experiment with this idea, and see if devoting regular time to write makes the difference that I suspect it will.  Now I just have to follow through, another not-easy thing to do!

1. As you can see I am here.

2. See you soon!

3. I love to buy books.

4. I have many gift(s).

5. What’s up with my dog coming down with kennel cough?

6. The world is at my fingertips.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to going to bed, tomorrow my plans include voting in the municipal election and Sunday, I want to learn about rally obedience!

Check out the Friday Fill-ins website here!

They say, and I think:

  1. Help ::Me
  2. Close ::The door
  3. Start over ::Again
  4. Dirt ::Floor
  5. Kilometer ::Marker
  6. Speedy ::Gonzales
  7. Shop ::Til you drop
  8. Trumpet ::Bell
  9. Dog ::House
  10. Canoe ::Paddle


It’s fun to get back into these memes.  I’m trying to pass the time waiting for a friend to come over to see my sick dog, so I’m doing all the procrastinating I can!



Thirteen Nicknames for My Dog (a rather silly theme, but it`s easy and I`ve been away for a long time!  🙂

1. Woogie

2. Mr. Woogle

3. Boo-bear

4. Puppy Boy

5. Mr. Mu

6. Precious Boy

7. The Woog

8. Mister Bister

9. Snoogy

10. Handsome Fellow

11. The Potentate

12. The Little Brown Dog

13. Snickerdoodle-doggy

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others’ comments. It’s easy, and fun!

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Well, it has been a seriously LONG time since I posted here.  Life gets away from me, I start a new blog to cover different subject matter, I lose the impetus that drives me to write.  Et cetera, ad nauseum.


But it’s time to revive The Muse Asylum!  I need to get back in the habit of writing regularly, so why not do it here?


Life has progressed since my last post, natch.  Ups and downs, backs and forths, all those good things.  Perhaps I will write about some of the events in the past year and a half (give or take), perhaps I won’t… but I will be trying to write something.


I have forgotten how the formatting works here in WordPress, so this post might look strange.  I’m going to publish just to see…

“For today’s prompt, I want you to write a farewell poem. After all, we are saying farewell to another wonderful National Poetry Month. Say farewell to this month; say farewell to a vacation spot; say farewell to a bad relationship; say farewell to work; say farewell to school; say farewell to saying farewell even.”

Well, thank God that this challenge is finally over! I’m planning to post my final thoughts on the challenge in the next couple of days. For now, I’m just incredibly happy that it’s OVER, and that I wrote a poem EVERY SINGLE DAY this month!
a puff of breath and
the soap bubble leaves
the plastic wand behind.
it floats, carried by the wind,
until I can see it no longer.

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