I thrive in organized and systematic environments. I consider efficiency, speed, and precision, the main indicators of the ultimate success and satisfaction of every endeavor I undertake. Having the proper tool for the job is paramount. As a planner, my first step before launching a project is a well-conceived plan. I gather my supplies before I set to work. When everything is ready, the conductor steps to his podium raises his baton, and the music swells.

That is how I orchestrate my life under normal circumstances, but embarking on a complete house remodel, has complicated my everyday routine. My possessions have been packed and stored, and I am displaced, needing to live off-site for the duration. Nothing is in its familiar, assigned space.

Kitchen gadgets, once taken for granted, are not accessible. Doing laundry depends on the laundromat’s machine availability and requires an unfamiliar process. Simple tasks that once required only muscle memory to accomplish, now demand attention, thought, and extra time. While I expected obstacles, I was unprepared for the difficulties associated with the easy stuff.

How do you cope with unexpected challenges?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Sunday is unlike any other day of the week, and it holds a special place in my heart. Wedged into the weekend’s end, it is a transition from fun-filled frivolity, to productive work. The Sunday following a long holiday weekend, leaves me anxious. Freedom, flexibly, lack of structure, and general flailing about without a set agenda wears on my need for an ordered schedule and measurable productivity. While others nap, play games, and indulge in binge-watching favorite shows, my fingers itch, my mind looks forward, and my body hums with a desire to act.

Thoughts turn toward possibilities. Rested and recharged I can’t wait to begin again. I pull out my planner, review the past week, assess where I stand, and plot my path. The start of a new month carries so much promise, and I front-load my week’s plans. The surging strength within me, demands direction. I devise a strategy to channel my intensity toward tackling difficult tasks, pushing a project across the finish line, or maybe, clearing the slate, and embarking on a fantastical endeavor.

The adage counsels us to “make hay while the sun shines.” I plan to take a huge bite from my task list while my energy is at its peak. The afternoon is perfect for setting the stage, so in the morning I can explode out of the gate.

How will you spend your Sunday?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

I can only dream of my workday beginning at 11 am. Unfortunately, my weekday schedule follows me into my weekend and sleeping late, means perhaps another hour of sleep, if I am lucky. It is pointless trying to return to the land of nod, once the sandman releases me from sweet slumber. No matter what the clock says, I cannot spring from my bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as they say. No. I force my eyes open and fumble for the wake-up juice.

After my first cup, I feel capable of extricating my brain from the primordial goo. Downing cup number two, rudimentary speech returns. My third cup renders me coherent enough to hold a non-demanding conversation. I don’t need to coffee to start my day, but the process isn’t pretty. I have scared small children and alienated family members when not properly caffeine kick-started into my fully functional humanoid disguise. They have learned their lessons, approaching with caution to press a steaming mug into my hand. They maintain a safe distance until the “More Coffee” mantra fades.

What is your morning ritual?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Rising early is not normally on my agenda, but it can offer untold rewards. Strong, hot coffee is imperative in my quest to chronicle the sunrise. I rise before dawn when the world is still dark, and before the birds break into song. If I lived on a farm, I would have to wake the rooster and remind him of his job. Together, we would watch the hard, black sky yield to gray, then fade to a pink touched with a golden glow, revealing the mist lifting from the field. A magic-infused breeze touches my coffee mug, and as I inhale, the promise stirs my soul.

Trance-like, I wander to my desk with the day’s music singing in my ear. My muse demands I transcribe her whispered stories. Transmitted through my fingertips to the hard, ebony squiggles etched on the ivory page, I don’t see black or white. I hear the song tinged in pink and golden hues. I taste the morning’s magical flavor, and the emotions vibrate, twirling intimately around the words as I sip my coffee.

How do you capture your day?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

I look forward to Thanksgiving every year. It is my favorite holiday because it offers something for everyone. Personally, I love The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and will let others indulge in the plethora of football games, turkey trots, and tv marathons. I wait with my basting spoon, for the annual turkey pardoning, a tradition that tickles my funny bone. And I am thrilled I don’t have to worry about buying presents for anyone. A warm house filled with wonderful aromas, cherished friends, and a loving family is a priceless gift.

Then there is the constant chaos of the kitchen party. As we prepare the food, we fill wine glasses without regard to the time. We sample the fixings and trade family secrets along with family recipes. In due course, dinner is served. There is nothing like a heaping plate full of creamy mashed potatoes, succulent turkey, stuffing, green beans, and homemade cranberry sauce swimming in a pool of delicious, brown, giblet gravy. Can anyone tell me why we only have gravy once a year?

The day is capped by a food coma induced nap, followed by more conversations and a strategic planning session for the upcoming holidays before everyone has to leave. For the next few days, I revel in my favorite leftovers and cement the memories so they will last a lifetime.

I wish you and your family a happy, and safe Thanksgiving.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer