Mo liosta buicéad
This is NOT my typical blog, but my friend Mary has done gone and inspired me to think about what I want to do with the rest of my life.
If you haven’t read Mary Todd’s writing, visit her Facebook page and read her notes. She is a local celebrity. She travels the county on foot, inspiring people, expounding wisdom, collecting pennies and other treasures, and plotting world takeovers. She carries a walking stick with a troll attached. The troll’s name is Martha. Martha is trouble. You have to watch out for Martha.
Mary is my twin of another mother. She says she’s the bad one and I’m the good. But in the words of Shawn Spencer, “I’ve heard it both ways.”
Mary recently shared her Bucket List on Facebook, and I decided to compare hers to mine. Then I realized I don’t have one.
I do now. Thanks, Mary. Readers, whoever you may be, feel free to share your thoughts too. I challenge you to make your own list. Every life should have purpose.
- Go to Ireland for an extended stay.
- Meet Little Richard and tell him about my book.
- Have a real conversation with Steven Tyler. (And, no, I DO NOT lust after Steven Tyler nor anyone else for that matter. Sheesh, do I get tired of telling people this.) I happen to think there is a part of Steven Tyler that comprehends a part of the human soul that most people don’t, and I should like to speak with him about this matter. (I understand what this means even if I can’t explain it. God knows.)
- Write a minimum of five books, not all YA. All five unfinished books are floating in my brain. I have to get them out.
- See at least one of them published.
- Open a live music venue.
- Run an online vintage, boho, gypsy spirit clothing boutique.
- Organize a local writers’ group.
- Live healthy inside and out. (I understand what this means even if I can’t explain it. God knows.)
- Buy a camper and camp. A lot.
- Play guitar as well as I want to. (At least now I know what I need to do to achieve the goal. I finally “get” it. Don’t ask me to play for you now. Wait a little while. THEN I can play for you.)
As Porky Pig would say, “Ble, ble, ble, that’s all folks!”