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This is Dani Smith

 

I am Dani Smith, sometimes known around the web as Eglentyne. I am a writer in Texas. I like my beer and my chocolate bitter and my pens pointy.

This blog is one of my hobbies. I also knit, sew, run, parent, cook, eat, read, and procrastinate. I have too many hobbies and don’t sleep enough. Around here I talk about whatever is on my mind, mostly reading and writing, but if you hang out long enough, some knitting is bound to show up.

Thank you for respecting my intellectual property and for promoting the free-flow of information and ideas. If you’re not respecting intellectual property, then you’re stealing. Don’t be a stealer. Steelers are ok sometimes (not all of them), but don’t be a thief.

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    Entries in Inspiration (62)

    Saturday
    Sep112010

    10 Things: Cheese (Bonus Thing!)

    I’ve scraped an old 10 Things out of the notebook.  So you could say that today’s 10 Things is aged, moldy even.  I reproduce it here unedited, AS IS, with only one word corrected for spelling.  

    If you’re new to 10 Things, here’s how it works.  I’ll give you a PROMPT, then you’ll write the first 10 THINGS that arrive in the forefront of your mind when you contemplate that prompt.  You can do it quickly or you can SAVOR the contemplation and take your time.  Either way, put YOUR 10 Things down there in the comments and then read what I came up with back in May.  I’ll leave a little no-spoiler space here, so that you aren’t accidentally influenced by MY 10 things.  

    Why do I do this?  To stimulate the writing brain cells.  Call me a Fairy Inspiration-mother, but only if you mean it in a nice way.  

    Ready for the PROMPT?

    CHEESE!!  Go go go.

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    1. Mouse, mousetrap, cheese, and peanut butter.

    2. Pizza with stringy, melted mozzarella.

    3.  String-cheese sticks. Is that even really cheese?  Seriously.  

    4. Cheese and crackers!! (as a snack AND an exclamation)

    5. Cheesy. As in campy or groan worthy.

    6. Cheesy.  As in seedy, seamy, holey, or of low quality.

    7. A child hamming it up for the camera, so much that it’s not just ham, but ham AND cheese.

    8. Say cheese for the camera.  Or parrot.  That creepy school photographer trying to get you to smile.

    9. Cheese, it’s what’s for dinner.  No, wait, that’s for Beef.  Ah. Behold! The power of cheese!

    10. The man in the moon.

    11. (Bonus Cheese!) “Do my hands smell like cheese?” A line from a forgotten sitcom with that actress, what’s her name, from Moonlighting? Oh yes, Cybill Shepherd.  

    Your turn.  Spill your cheese!

    Wednesday
    Sep012010

    Work from there

    I’m a little behind on my Friday Night Lights viewing.  A few weeks ago I watched the first couple of episodes of the most recent season.  One story line has former Panther QB Matt Saracen (why is he still part of the story again?) doing an internship with a local artist.  When prompted to give his opinion of Matt’s work, the crusty old jerk (love him) flips roughly through Matt’s portfolio, chooses one drawing, rips it to shreds and hands Matt a scrap of paper.  I think it was a drawing of a hand.  “This part right here doesn’t make me want to throw up.  Work from there.”  

    If you rip through your writing, throw out all the cliches, and get to the heart of it, which is the part that doesn’t make you want to throw up?  Write from there.  

    A close-up shot of my computer, complete with mustache, inspirational quote, small pictures of the kids, and desk detritus

    Tuesday
    Aug312010

    10 Things: Shoes

    Name the first 10 Things that come to you when I say the word “Shoes.”  Then scroll down to see what I came up with.  Go! Run! Shoe!

     

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    1.  My stepfather’s boots.  

    2.  My Teva sandals and my running shoes.  I’m usually barefoot.  These are the most likely shoes to find on my feet. 

    3.  My $3 black heels from Savers in Albuquerque.  The only comfortable pair of heels I’ve ever had.  I’ve worn them twice.  

    4. Screaming shoes, a.k.a. any shoe for Sonar X7 up to a pair of red Keane’s last fall. Child hated shoes for most of his life.  Not just that he didn’t want to wear them.  They caused him to melt into a screaming mess as if they were burning his feet.  

    5. Brand new white soccer cleats.  I guess these make me a soccer mom again?  Reminds me of an Everclear song.  Except I drive a VW, not a Volvo.  Also no experience in adult media.  *cough* Never mind. 

    6. I do not comprehend the fascination of some people with designer shoes.  They look like torture.  Maybe @shaydenFL gets them?  If not he can add them to his list of #shitidontget

    7. In middle school I really wanted a pair of huarache sandals.  I got them eventually.  I never ever wanted a pair of jellies though.  Or crocs.

    8.  Baby shoes are completely pointless.  Ditto baby socks unless it’s cold.  Just one more (small, easily losable) thing to keep up with. 

    9. When my brother (five years younger) grew to have the same size feet as me.  I was in eight or ninth grade. We shared my huarache sandals for an afternoon. 

    10.  White canvas Keds.  This was my go-to shoe for many years.  Cheap and easy.  In high school they were my marching band shoes.  We slathered white shoe polish right on the canvas to cover stains.  When they were too raunchy for marching band, I’d scribble all over them. 

    Bonus: “SHOES” by Kelly. Betch. 

    Comments:

    This list was strangely difficult for me.  I got sort of stuck on details for number one.  A snapshot of the details…

    My step-father grew up in New York State, where he started his career as a police officer.  I don’t know what kind of shoes he wore there.  Some sort of standard issue glossy black dress shoes, I suppose.  But when he moved to Albuquerque he always wore black cowboy boots with his uniform.  They probably took twice as long to polish as dress shoes.  He had a boot jack to pull them off of his hot feet at night.  When he went to plain-clothes work, he still wore boots.  Usually brown.  Still took forever to keep polished.  He wore his service weapon in a holster on his belt or under a sport coat.  He loved cowboy boots because he could keep a small gun in a clip holster inside the top of his left boot.  Just in case.  Cowboy boots as secret weapon cache. 

    What were your 10 Shoes?  What kind of shoes do you wear to work?  Do you have any shoes with a story? 

    Wednesday
    Aug252010

    Dragonflies

    I walked through clouds of dragonflies today.  They hover a few feet above the ground on all the grassy fields and yards in the neighborhood this morning.  From a distance they all look the same dark color. Just big black bugs swarming over the dry grass.  They did not seem to mind me, parting slightly to let me pass then falling back into their ordered randomness.  Their transparent wings propellered through each dodge and weave.  Up close they reveal bodies of gold, chocolate, bronze, copper.  The neighborhood is quiet, but there is just enough noise from (happy for dragonfly breakfast) frogs and distant cars to mask the sound of the dragonflies.  

    I imagine their noise, not as a buzz, but as a light metallic shimmer, winding from their wings like invisible ribbons.  

    Thursday
    Jul292010

    Random Thursday Question

    This is a placeholder. A diversion. So you won’t notice that I haven’t posted promised blog entries. Hey! Look over there!

    How did you come up with the name of your first pet? 

    Have you ever seen an Irish Setter? They’re really beautiful dogs. Their fur is long and silky, in tones that range from shiny copper penny to rich chestnut. 

    Part of my family always had dogs, but my first dog was an Irish Setter named Rosie. We were puppies together. I was her person. As she grew into a large dog, she guarded the perimeter of my blanket and play space. She prevented my escape with gentle nudges. She growled-a deep, quiet rumble in her chest-at any approaches she did not approve. If the story is credible, she once faced down an uncle—hackles raised, fully snarly and scary. Rosie died when I was in high school. Partly crippled by arthritis, and mostly blinded by cataracts. She lived a good, long, happy life in a big yard with a warm bed. 

    I don’t know who named her. I was barely more than a baby. Two years old. She was pedigreed, so Rosie was only her nickname. Her full name is lost to me. The nickname was surely chosen in part because she was a red dog. A beautiful, shiny, red dog. 

    How about you? Any pets? Any good names? How did you choose the name?

    Eglentyne and Rosie. She’d just had her first puppies. From the pants I’d guess around 1976 or 77. Why don’t I have pants like that now?!