The Flog – The Fabry Log

Life happens at the most curious times. The more you shop, the more you want to … live.

I heard that on the loudspeaker of the store this weekend where I went with my daughter. The more you shop, the more you… Then the name of the store. This particular store had “given us” $30 in free money.

Really?

Was that really free, or a reward for purchasing X amount previously? And then banking we’d never use it. I don’t know, but it brought us back on the last day to use the “free money” to buy a dress.

So there I was, outside the girl’s dressing room, milling around like a man without a country.

“Additional cashiers to the Misses register, please,” someone said over the intercom. There were quite a few people lined up down at the Misses register. At first I thought they were occupying the place.

Young women flitted in and out of the dressing room as I awaited my youngest daughter. The last little puppy to wear a dress has gone from princess to PRINCESS before my eyes. Just last week she was playing with Breyer horses and dolls. Now she’s singing Adele songs and is as tall as her mother.

“Additional cashiers to the Misses register, please,” the person said again, with an edge to her voice. It almost felt like, “The more you people shop, the more it stresses me out!”

Fashion jeans. Flip flops. Ear rings. And all that perfume. To a chemically sensitive dad, this is like entering a twilight zone I will never escape. But for her, and for the love of $30 worth of “free money,” we were here.

I wanted to go to the intercom and say, “There’s cake and ice cream for all employees over at the Misses register.”

My daughter emerged with the dress in her hand and a smile. “It fits!” she said.

“How much?” I said.

“It’s marked down from $58 to $33.”

“Well, let’s head over to the Misses register and see what all the fuss is about.”

We ambled over and there were only a handful of people ahead of us. A manager turned a light on above a register and shook her head.

It’s funny how much life you can see while waiting. And the pink dream with ruffles and frills was a mere $4.35.

What an investment.

The Countdown to the 7 days of Valentines has begun. It’s January 25th and I’ve wracked my brain for gifts. I made a purchase online and it came in the mail, but alas she opened it and saw what I had chosen.

Season 6 of the Mary Tyler Moore show, the one with the “Chuckles Bites the Dust” episode. She apologized and seemed pretty excited about the gift. Maybe she’ll forget it by the time February 8 rolls around.

If you don’t know this game, it was enacted several years ago when the kids were little. I do 7 days of Valentines because, to be honest, one day just has too much pressure. If I spread my choices out over 7 days, I show her I’m thinking of her, I know her, I’m working on knowing her better, and what woman doesn’t want that kind of thought put into a holiday cooked up by Big Chocolate and Big greeting card? Can you imagine how much money they rake in during February? I think there should be some kind of governmental commission looking into this.

But I digress.

Each day I print the number of the day—on February 8 it will be, “Day 1 of the 7 days of Valentines.” Then, on another sheet, I print a clue as to what the present might be. For example, if she hadn’t opened the video, I might have said, “This will bring a smile and maybe a chuckle.” She would never have guessed it, but there would have been a huge smile when she saw the video.

This year I have a file on my desktop “Andrea presents 2012.” I have a list of ideas, things I come up with during the day that may work, others won’t. Some are simple, a poem, a song, an idea for a video. These don’t cost anything but my time and thought and some effort by my children. Others are gifts I may purchase. Small things. Nothing extravagant, but all thoughtful.

If you’re looking for a good project this Valentine’s Day, 7 days wouldn’t be a bad idea. Be creative. Think. And see what happens in your own heart as you head toward February 14.

Two of the best words in the English language are: The End. I wrote those yesterday after an odyssey of several months. I began a story called Borders of the Heart on 8/24, but that’s not true. I started it long before that in my head without even knowing it.

The process of writing is mysterious. I’ve been asked a few times to teach a class or give a seminar and I’ve done it for elementary, middle and high school classes. The kids who were there seemed to get something out of it, but to be honest, I don’t know how to teach writing. I know rules of grammar. Most of them, anyway. The important ones. I’ve read many books on writing and plotting and dialog and telling a story well, but I don’t really comprehend it. So I’ve held back on teaching and concentrated on doing. Maybe one day I will try.

As I tell you I’ve ended one story, another is beginning. Writing is something one must do constantly if one is to fund one’s family. So as I end the process of this story, one I finished last year is coming to the stage. I’m very excited about the story of Truman Wiley. I think it’s going to change some lives because I believe we all have a Truman in our life. And in some ways, we’re Truman.

I’ll tell you more about him soon, but if you want to see a book trailer for the book that is releasing, click here and go down to the video on the right.

The book is called Not In The Heart. It’s probably the most exciting, painful, honest, true story I’ve written for adults. True in the sense of capturing characters that are struggling greatly with the people and circumstances of their lives. Okay, I’ll stop.

Is there something you’ve been allowed to do in life that you feel inadequate to teach? Keep doing it. Maybe one day you’ll write about it.