Hello My Excellent Friend WYA
There was once a time when I had so many stories in my head I was fairly bursting with them. I thought if I didn’t start writing them down many of them were apt to get lost in the compacted storage part of the brain where excess information goes to die. (Until suddenly some random memory escapes and comes back to haunt your dreams.) So I blogged. And then I got sick of listening to myself. Now I’m at the point in life (mature, let’s call it) where I can happily repeat myself with no clue I’m doing it or that I just might be boring someone to tears. And the best part is, I don’t care!
So with all that out of the way, let’s get some pressing questions answered. I have quite possibly answered them before, but it is also possible my answers have changed, because I won’t remember what I said and I have also been known to make shit up from time to time.
As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I was asked this question repeatedly as a child by adults who really did not seem to be at all interested in whatever I had to say. I learned to avoid them like the plague. They called me shy. Well, I was that too, but mostly I just didn’t feel like talking to them. Plus I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, so it was easy to throw out ”nurse” or ”teacher” or “marine biologist” even though that last one was a mysterious thing I said only to impress them with my lofty ambitions while crossing my fingers there’d be no follow up questions to the pronouncement.
Now I understand that what you do doesn’t matter. Who you are and how you live your life absolutely does. All work is meaningful. Covid brought the fact of essential (but low paid) workers into sharp focus for those of us smart enough to get it. Aspire to be kind, compassionate, loving and grateful. That’s what kids should want to be when they grow up, someone with a good heart. The rest is just window dressing.
Explain your Twitter handle.
I’m a grandma. My given name can be shortened to Lin. Grandma can then be lengthened to “grandmalin” or shortened to GLin. I used to doodle a little stick person with a wine glass in her hand. She took on a little life of her own after awhile, called herself Jazzy and said wise and funny things. You can find her on Breathing Space under the category “Just Jazzy”. So my twitter handle, JazzyGLin should now make PERFECT sense.
This never ending epistle will continue anon. Hope your day is filled with joy. Or at the very least contentment. With a few window dressing perks on the side.