Looking Out

To look out is a male trait that is derived from being a protector. If you observe two women standing on a bridge and conversing, they will always face each other, making constant eye contact. On the contrary, two men will always face the water and look out from the bridge. In rural areas,  a farmer and his dog may be seen on the porch in the evening looking out towards the road. They are actually watching for danger approaching but probably do not realize it until that bear walks up the driveway.

As I sit at my laptop I find myself peering over the screen and through the window of my office. Outside the view is of mostly red cedar trees and one small decorative deciduous tree from which hang bird feeders. There are no marauding tribes, or bandits and never any wild animals larger than myself except for one misplaced whitetail buck that wandered though searching for a female at 3 AM. I wanted to tell him that nothing good happens after midnight. There is, however, smaller fauna that have actually caused me to keep a pair of binoculars next to my chair. I often wonder who else even notices it.

My condo is on a parcel of land that is 30 feet or so above the Manasquan River in New Jersey. There are many tall trees, some of which are dead. It is not uncommon for a pair of bald eagles to perch in the limbs, along with several species of hawk. The small tree that stands alone outside my window is host to cardinals, goldfinches, warblers, chickadees and many other species of bird. There are also Blackhawk helicopters in the sky every so often, which must come from the nearby Earle Weapons Station and summer brings the banner planes that fly along the nearby beaches. I have also witnessed magnificent displays of forked, cloud to ground lightning in the distance and an occasional rainbow.Then there is that large pink cloth thing that landed on the top branch of an 80 foot tree during Sandy. I still do not know what it is but it is very big like an awning or sail.

Looking out is actually a healthy habit that gives my eyes a break from the computer and exercises the eye muscles by focusing in the distance. I often point out what I see to my wife who shows little interest if any. She will usually make a remark about how I must have stared out the window in grade school. I did a great deal. I was even looking out back then.

Saturday Doesn't Matter Day

I finally finished up a grueling project that I made the mistake of taking. I had never considered how many issues there would be with spell checker which red lined everything that was a brand name. Then, every brand name had to have either a registered or a trademark symbol following it. The articles were for new cars and there were seven of them at 1500 words each. They all contained terms like i-VTEK System. (Lower case "i" and upper case everything else) followed by a TM in a little circle. Every page had dozens of these for several different car models. Then it was writing which options came with which models, standard or upgrade, and with which package. Each article took the entire day to write, between research and transposing information. So fast forward to today. It is Saturday and I am caught up. Not really. I am writing this.

This is my profile that I send to potential clients and I also use it to show aspiring freelance writers what the real writing world is like. Because I have been busy, I have neglected it. If potential clients see you neglect your own profile they may assume that you will neglect them. Or they will think you are too busy for them. The truth is if I was too busy I would not need to update my profile. In fact I would not have solicited more work. I was busy yesterday but I am not yet again. So here sit I, while my wife is out to the Sea Spa and having lunch at Rods Old Irish Tavern with a girlfriend whose husband is also working today..

After I am finished venting here, I will be moving on to writing an article that I do not get paid for. It is to show prospective clients that I write well about nature and the environment. It is also to drive web traffic to a bird watching forum that I have the SEO assignment for. I am killing two birds with....hmmmm. Bad analogy. So I will spend my day researching Atwater's Prairie Chicken and the decline of the Texas Gulf Prairie. My wife will probably be done with her pedi by then and halfway into a fillet of fresh fried flounder. (Wasn't that called alliteration in English class?)

Once I am comfortable with my research and outline, I will sleep on it and write the text tomorrow. I have this weird brain that only recalls facts and details well after sleeping. There is a name for it in the psych world. I will look up the term and tomorrow I will remember what it is after I sleep on it. Actually it is neuronal memory representation reactivation. Try to remember that with or without sleeping on it.

The one thing they say about working from home is that you can make your own hours. That is so true, and lots of them. There is always something positive in every situation however. It is not nice outside so I do not mind being in as much as if it were. Do I sound like Yogi Berra?

Shore-gonomics

The chair owned by Levi F Ward, of Piermont NY circa 1850
Very hard to sit in for more than an hour

  Rio Beach Chair from Manasquan CVS circa 2011
Shore-gonomically correct

A while back I wrote a post about my antique chair that belonged to a man who lived back in the 1850s in Piermont, New York. I know he was the first secretary of the Wawayanda Lodge, had a wife and several children, a stove business and a sore butt. I deduced  the butt part because I was spending long hours in his chair at my desk and I suffered the same. It all looked very Hawthornesque, which would be fine if I were writing in my best hand by the light of a whale oil lamp. The fact is I am typing, with three fingers, in my lap. Two index fingers for the letters and the little right one for the backspace key. The desk is only for putting the laptop down so I can stand up and get off my aching posterior.

I decided I needed to find an ergonomic chair. I did not want one of those black things that they sell at Office Max. They remind me too much of an office cube. I thought about where I can sit for the longest without needing to get up. Then I realized it was a beach chair. A bright and colorful beach chair. Even if I sat in the yard I would remain for hours without getting up except for retrieving a beer. Would it work in my office? Why not? No one can see me anyway behind the over grown bush. So that was my revelation. Along with the chair I added some guy stuff to make me feel briny. Some wooden crates, some vintage fishing tackle, old Atlantic City fudge and taffy containers and an old amber bottle that contained medicine for curing sore butts in the 19th century. The results are increased productivity, more creativity, and comments from my wife about the pile of junk in my office. It not junk its shore-gonomically correct office furnishings.

There is a marketing side to this too. On my new blog, which is coming soon, called Freelance After Fifty, I can tell people that I make money sitting in my beach chair. I don't have to tell them that my only view is an overgrown bush and a hummingbird feeder. The important thing is I am comfortable and my writing reflects it, when I am not daydreaming about being on the beach with my fishing pole.
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