Tag Archives: slice of life

A half dozen days since the chickens died

The eggs live on after the chickens. Included are the last feathers from Edna (top left, all white), Betty ( second row, brown and white), and Nutmeg (far right, brown and white).

On Chickens

Edna and Nutmeg were 4 year old hens born in Duvall WA. They lived a life typical of hens living in the city after growing up in the countryside. They’d wake up around 7am every day, climb down their house and wait to be let out into the yard. Every day, they’d dutifully do their jobs as chickens: laying eggs, searching for bugs to eat, dig in the dirt when warm for a dirt bath, perch on objects to be in a patch of sunlight, eat the food my mother bought them. Each time my mother or me was outside, they follow us as we walked to the alley, often squawking to us as hello. I’d greet them each time with a “Hello girls” or by name. Betty was independent, kinda crazy, and at the top of the pecking order from day 1. Nutmeg was a typical groupie and usually at the bottom of it. Nice but a pushover to the other chickens.

I helped, but the Chickens were my mom’s thing. She did the dirty work of cleaning their coop and taking care of them whenever the chickens had treatable ailments. She found them dead. Apparently it happened like an hour before I got home from work, as mom worked from home today.

To say the two chickens died, is a gentle way of saying viciously murdered.

There wasn’t a noisy ruckus by Edna or Nutmeg, or a sign something was wrong.

The chickens could be quite noisy when they wanted to. They’d squawk every day while laying eggs, in that classic chicken way. It wouldn’t take much for them to alert someone in the house.

This crime happened so fast, the victims never had a chance.

No sign of forced entry. The exterior and interior fences undisturbed.

No witnesses.

Inside was a gruesome murder scene.

Decapitations with further gore.

There was clear signs of struggle. Bloody feathers, and occasional blood spots.

Mom found them. Later said that she let out some loud explicit words. In shocked agony of these murders.

Her guess is that a “raptor bird” or other predatory bird swooped in and killed the chickens. Which do live in the area. We’ve spotted hawks, falcons, owls, and bald eagles from the backyard before. Not that surprising considering Seward Park is close. (Which is a large wooded park with the nests of many birds including bald eagles)

(All I can imagine are flying velociraptors from Jurassic Park when she said raptors did it. )

( I guess nature is far more brutal. )

(Further, that I as a privileged person in the modern world…am privileged to have chickens as pets, and that we didn’t have to eat them.)

By the time I went in the coop to inspect, mom had already buried the chickens. It felt odd stepping in their fenced area as that portion of the backyard had been theirs for 5+ years for this generation and the last. Sure enough they really were gone.

The only evidence was fluffy white feathers from Edna, and orange-brown and white feathers from Nutmeg strewn about.

Hard to believe that they’re gone.

I’ve been looking to the coop, for the chickens out of habit through the kitchen window above the sink. A habit developed these past 5 years. They always had something going on, a project or task throughout the day. Each evening they’d march into their coop to perch on a branch at the top to sleep. The hens would huddle right next to another.

Mom doesn’t want to get new chickens and I don’t either, so this will likely be the last time I have chickens as a pet. It’s the only time I’ve had birds as a pet.

I’ll have to buy eggs at the store from now on…

Rest in peace: Nutmeg, Edna, and Betty.


I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been focused on work. It’s been massive life adjustment. Going from unemployed at home all day back to a 40 hour a week job in a new location is a complete change. I’ve been tired after work Also the whole lifestyle change outside of work. I’m handling it well, and doing well at my job. Another 6 weeks or so, and I’ll have energy to do activities during the week. Self care has been first priority.

Thanks for reading!

Which came first: The Chicken or Crab Water?

“You make us into water?!”

The events below happened last night.

For lunch today, I opened a can of canned crab meat to use for the filling for sandwiches. The bread, two hot dog buns and 2 flour tortillas.

To use canned crab meat, you have to remove the wax paper inside the can and drain the excess liquid, which I call Crab Water. My cats were begging as soon as I opened the can. I give them the bowl of crab water, and the can for them to lick clean.

Oh, and for the purposes of this story, I help my mother care for chickens. They have a small fenced area in the backyard. We also give them scraps of food as treats.

A little while ago, I go to the kitchen to refill my water jug. I notice the empty can on the floor next to Coco’s cat dish. I pick it up to rinse it, and recycle it. I tell her the story above, and she says:

“Did you give it to the chickens or kitties?”

I pause, think for a moment, and say: “…Did I give Crab Water to the chickens?” Like that’s a normal, accepted thing to give chickens. Crab Water.

The concept of “Crab Water” is odd enough. Somehow the thought of chickens drinking it is hilarious!

Why did the chicken cross the road? To drink the Crab Water.

Also, it’s not like crabs can drink Chicken water? (Which is chicken stock?) I know Crabs live in water, but do they drink it?

We’ve been laughing since.

Now all I have to do is say “Crab Water”.

Thus the reason for the post title.


Of course… Simpsons did it!

Sonder Meander

Life is a puzzle. Some days in life, puzzle pieces match up witin and you learn something.
Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

Sonder:

As I sat down to my computer and logged into wordpress, I checked the blog email and notifications and had a moment of clarity.

Fellow Blogger Zoewiezoe says it best in her post today:

“(didn’t realize I was coming off as that much of a wreck? But just fyi – I’m actually doing quite well all things considering – the dark tone that works so well in blogs is not my general state of being all day every day )”

https://zoewiezoe.com/2020/12/12/the-misery-habit/

For a while now, I’ve been doing blog posts with little editing, thus little awareness of how I might be perceived by readers. For these marathon December posts, I’ve been writing them by the seat of my pants. Straight from the heart because I guess as I write this, I’ve had a goal to be vulnerable and honest. Basically, practicing doing this through my values than choosing decisions from emotions. Every post is a slice of my life and state of being at that time. Whatever emotions are most alive in me as I write.


Growth is uncomfortable:


“You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read. It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, who had ever been alive.”

James Baldwin, Source.

Sometimes what we need is a pick me up from others. Especially right now in our socially-distant-pandemic-world-society.

“I think you’re really brave to put that kind of information about yourself out there and I know it can be depressing –the reality of life and stuff– but I think you’re in a good spot even if you don’t feel like that. Writing about how you feel can help you feel like realize how you actually feel maybe I don’t even know dude.”

My long time friend, Gus, who wrote a lovely email to me with this gem in it.

Meander:

Where do we go from here? What can I do to radically change my life with what is available to me with what I have? Right now, I don’t know. For now, for today, I need to restart self care. I haven’t had a long walk in a few weeks. I can’t remember the last time I had a really long meditation. Nobody else can answer what I need most right now, I have to discover this on my own. Mindfulness meditation for insight it is:

Some days in life, puzzle pieces match up witin and you learn something.


December blog marathon posts:


Thank you for reading this, if you enjoyed it, please give it a like, tell me what you think in the comments, and share on Facebook. Don’t forget to subscribe to my email list for updates!

Please wear a mask outside that covers your mouth and nose, wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance (6 feet) from others to fight Covid-19!

© Reilly Anderson. 2020. All rights reserved.

My Siamese kitten Coconut

Siamese kitten Coconut sleeping on her favorite living room chair.

It’s been a long time since i last wrote about Coconut. Coconut is the Siamese blue point girl kitty I adopted in August. So, I’ll make it simple and let these pictures speak for her.

The previous Coconut posts:

https://theunknownreillyblog.wordpress.com/2020/08/23/a-kitten-named-coconut/

https://theunknownreillyblog.wordpress.com/2020/09/05/kitten-blocked/



Thank you for reading this, if you enjoyed it, please give it a like, tell me what you think in the comments, and share on Facebook. Don’t forget to subscribe to my email list for updates!

Please wear a mask outside that covers your mouth and nose, wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance (6 feet) from others to fight Covid-19!

December blog marathon:

© Reilly Anderson. 2020. All rights reserved.

In a Haze

Picture of the forest fires from my residence in Seattle.
Picture of the smog from the backyard from last saturday

It was dark inside my bedroom.

I turn on my phone, check the air pollution index. It’s green.

I get up, put some pajamas on, and go out to for the newspaper. I take a long deep breath.

The smog is gone. Air crisp with a hint of sweet pine.

For the first time in a week I can breathe fresh air.

I feel my inner smog dissolve.

No wonder I’ve been so anxious. Lethargic.


It was dark inside my bedroom.

I remember the smog rolling in that first night.

It slithered through the window grates.

It had an odor like weed and alder in a bonfire.

By the morning it became a slow poison… Smog.

I felt closed in a prison when I closed the last open window in the house.

It felt like the slowest week of the year.

I am ready for 2020 to be over.

For today, I’m grateful to have fresh air to breathe.

Through the haze I have clarity.

I don’t want to work awful minimum wage jobs.

Need to get a car.

I want to go back to college. For what? I can’t say.

I feel ready to date again.

For now, I need a job for all these.

I can do this.


Songs of the week:

Thank you for reading this, if you enjoyed it, please give it a like, tell me what you think in the comments, and share on Facebook. Don’t forget to subscribe to my email list for updates! 

Please wear a mask outside that covers your mouth and nose, wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance from others to fight Covid-19!

© Reilly Anderson. 2020. All rights reserved.

Self Care Compromise

This crow and others have been hanging out in my back yard. For a couple years now a family of crows has been visiting us in the late spring and summer as part of their migration. My mother and I have been feeding them nuts by placing them on the deck railing. When we go inside, they swoop in and take the nuts away.

I haven’t done the best job editing this piece. It’s a second draft at best. It’s the best I can do right now with the capacity I have.

I’m worn out on all fronts. My muscles and body aches far more than usual because I’m spending all my time during quarantine on my desktop PC. My spine and neck are out of whack. My usual routine stretching and massaging sore or stiff muscles with my rolling foam cylinder isn’t working. I’m due for a chiropractor appointment, but I’m helpless because of the quarantine. I’m waiting for an email back from my doctor to see what I can do at home to help.

My brain is exhausted because I had a therapy appointment yesterday. I usually have a “therapy hangover” for days after depending on how intense therapy was. My therapist and I are on appointment 11. Things are going well. Yesterday was productive despite me having a muscle tension headache. I pushed myself too hard. This is a really bad habit I have, that I need to stop. My therapist was kind to suggest rescheduling our session for today. I chose not to, to work through my physical pain, because… I’m afraid that I’ll be abandoned by a therapist again. It’s already happened for good and bad reasons 6 times the past 12 years. I’ve been trying so hard to reach the peak of the therapist mountain seeking help. Each fall more devastating as I have to recover from worsening wounds by myself.

Now that I’m here, I’ve been working my ass off building the bridge to the next mountain within my soul, because I’ve wanted to be healed my entire adult life. This looks like: watching videos on YouTube about therapy, relationships, mental health, and self improvement like a job for 35+ hours a week during quarantine. I’m in spiritual pain from multiple grief events the past 6 months. I had to have my 18 year old cat euthanized in December. He was my best friend. (Sorry human readers, my Facebook circle. I do appreciate you, but my cat Flip was my best friend for 18 years.) My coworkers and I were laid off in January because the company went out of business. I poorly wrote a confession love letter to a woman I’d known for 26 years and was rejected. I made things worse by posting online about it.

This emotional wound hasn’t healed all the way yet. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. I’m sure a country or blues song could be written about it. It was catastrophic heartbreak for both of us. My word count production has been focused on soothing my emotional wounds instead of soothing my creative need.

The rejection-breakup event destroyed me. It’s so traumatic that it’s changed my belief system about love, myself, relationships, and dating. An ego death.

Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren both lost the Democratic primary. They were my first and second choice for candidates for 2020 POTUS. Andrew Yang would have been awesome too. I’d be okay with Pete Buttigieg. Biden as a choice is an exasperated sigh. I suppose this better than the diarrhea fart that is POTUS 45. So, I lost this year with politics too.

Covid-19 quarantine happened in March here in Washington state. It was the correct step to take for the sake of the world, the country, and the state. For my life, it’s a disaster on the scale of Mount Rainier erupting. Quarantine times grief to the 3rd power is a star going supernova into a black hole. A black hole which will only expire on its own time. In a way, time in solitude is exactly what I need right now. It been hell, but I believe that I am finally seeing life clearly now. I see who is there for me. What I value, and what I want to be in the future. One step forward is progress.

So all of these words are me giving permission to myself to rest. I’m listening to the feedback my body and mind are giving me. This year’s theme so far is: starting on a new path. I feel that the previous era of my life has ended. I will not repeat the same mistakes again.

Songs of the week:

If you enjoyed reading this, give it a like, comment, follow and share on Facebook, and subscribe to my email list!

Don’t forget to wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance from others to fight Covid-19!

Have a good week!

Reilly.

Blue Sparkly Shoes

My old work shoes on the left, current pair of sneakers I was looking for, and this story happened.

Blue Sparkly Shoes

This story originally posted on Facebook. This is an updated, rewritten version of the post. In early January, I was looking for a new everyday pair of sneakers to use for work. Hard to believe it will be 4 months since it was closed by the corporate owners, and all 30 people lost their jobs at once… 

Like many people I buy most of my stuff online through the Amazon borg. I would prefer to buy shoes at a store, but the past few times I have, the service was awful and the selection limited. For a couple years, I’ve wanted to have blue sneakers that were decent quality and not too expensive. Earlier in 2019, I had a different pair of blue everyday sneakers. Unfortunately, they started to smell like a garbage dumpster, and no amount of cleaning would get rid of the foul odor. I guess that’s what happens when you wear some sneakers without socks during the summer. I made do for months with a pair of red Rockport shoes as seen in this picture:

(Despite this entry being about shoes, I’ve never been someone known for fashion or spending much money on clothes. I lean toward comfort and practicality. Some times you gotta say “Fuck it” and try something out!) 

Usually, Amazon is pretty on point with suggestions and items that fit what you are searching for. I searched: “Men’s sneakers”. I expected sneakers and running shoes. Logical. What was illogical was this pair of shoes….


Actual product description…

The Blue Sparkly Shoes

ON THE FIRST RESULTS PAGE for “Blue men’s sneakers”. So, having normal human curiosity for strange shiny things, a propensity for unique experiences… Yeah, I clicked on them. How could I not?

Inside was further comedy gold. Such as: “FASHION LOAFERS – Less dressy than Bal oxfords, Can be worn with jeans assuming they are casually styled”. This makes a massive assumption. Any casual style jeans? Did the author of the description actually interact with this product?! 

More: “COMFORTABLE – Faux Leather upper plus breathable ultralight soft insole let you feel good and lessen joint impacts” Just, no. You have to focus on maintaining your balance like an ice skater to wear these if not on a flat level surface. 

Continued: “A GREAT GIFT – If you know your dad, husband, brother or boyfriend’s shoe size this will be an amazing gift for them on their birthday, Christmas or any other suitable occasion” Oh lord…You do not surprise men with these shoes as a gift they didn’t ask for. Well, if you want to start a fight I suppose. Lol. 

More from the page… SLIP-ON – they are a product of comfort and convenience. Hahahaha. I supposed wearing these is like wearing high heels. These are not comfort shoes. You wear these to stand out. I’m astounded that women put up with wearing heels every day.

My favorite gem: “for everyday wear and easy to pair up with an outfit; Whether going to a barbeque, wedding, business meeting, or shopping; these shoes can get the job done in style without causing unnecessary pain” I can’t top that with commentary. According to the ad, clearly the shoes can be unnecessary by using them abusively as described here. May cause unnecessary pain by surprising people with them as a gift, by wearing them without accentuated clothes, by lying about how wearing it feels. If you want even more fun, check out the rabbit hole of related products. It gets stranger and stranger the more you search. You too can easily wear 80s pop musician clothes! …Ugh, I just wrote an awesome ad without meaning to.

Read more

Is something better than nothing?

Am I good enough as I am?

    Update on Scorpion Poison part 2: I ran into a wall writing it because I had to overhaul the story. It simply isn’t an acceptable quality. I’m sorry for promising a deadline I couldn’t deliver. Am I screaming into the void? I honestly don’t know when it will be finished. Last week’s post left me disappointed at the quality, so I’m going to take more time to get it right. In its place is this post. I need to work on my organization and planning skills as a human…

Inspired first by spite and humiliation, later, curiosity. I’ve found my answer to what this blog is. The blog is whatever I want it to be. I honestly don’t know what my niche as a writer is. Hell, I barely know myself! I’m starting to doubt whether I’m capable of blogging long term. I thought blogging would be a good outlet because I enjoy writing. I’m tired of never being good enough at anything. Well, the universe is indifferent. It feels like there is answer to, and not to do anything. I didn’t realize that stepping into the light from the shadow of anonymity would be so difficult. Maybe I’m justifying all my bullshit behavior with excuses again. I dunno…

     I opened up the WordPress reader and discovered a conveniently timed post which picked apart everything wrong with last week’s post. It’s likely to be unfortunate timing, since small blogs like this are as common as dirt, but it still hurts to see that. Even if 100% accurate and is constructive criticism. I really thought that story would have been easier to tell than it was. Dammit.

    This is my first blog ever. I know I’m not a professional blogger yet. I’ve already made mistakes in the few posts on here. I know that I’m not only competing against other bloggers, but every book, every other form of entertainment that has ever existed and is currently being made. This applies to every person creating something. It’s a brutal path. Online, every person can comment on your writing, and pick it apart. I don’t mind constructive criticism. It’s a real gut punch when all of your mistakes are laid out in a blogging advice article. Mere hours after your post. My mistake was browsing the WordPress reader earlier today when I was looking for a way to warm up writing.  My goal with this blog is to improve my life, hopefully readers lives as well, how I can, through writing/blogging. A journey to self discovery. Improvement is slow and gradual. I’m only human, and I do have feelings. I’m doing the best I can with what I have and where I am at this point in time.


“If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

    I’m sure this is the first thought some have had while reading this post. I have literally done this in my life.  When I was a baby, my mom rescued me from their former apartment while  burning down!  I gave up a career as chef and the restaurant industry because I hated working in a professional kitchen. I tried the best I could for 8 years, but sometimes, no matter your efforts, things don’t work out. That career did not suit me. Working in the restaurant industry is a tough business. I gave it more than enough time before I was sure I had to move on. 

My choice to blog is a reflection of how I’ve grown from my mistakes in life. Such as choosing cooking as a career, giving it up. I tried to become a Commercial truck driver delivering soda for Coca-Cola and couldn’t handle the 60-70 hour weeks. I lasted 8 months. I tried to become a  local baseball umpire (Mainly refereed games from kids in middle school to high school) but I was rated the worst rookie umpire, despite being in the top 3 of games worked by a new umpire. I tried again from the bottom for a second year, but I got a concussion from a car accident, and couldn’t work. 

So I guess I’m growing as a person. What’s important is to keep small goals. I need to remind myself that I have just started. It’s going to take awhile to improve. I could use some help or advice.

“THE QUESTION “WHAT SHALL WE DO ABOUT IT?” IS only asked by those who do not understand the problem. If a problem can be solved at all, to understand it and to know what to do about it are the same thing. On the other hand, doing something about a problem which you do not understand is like trying to clear away darkness by thrusting it aside with your hands. When light is brought, the darkness vanishes at once. This applies particularly to the problem”

― Alan W. Watts, The Wisdom of Insecurity 


Song of the Post, Lazy by Deep Purple:


Thank you for reading this, if you enjoyed it, please give it a like, tell me what you think in the comments, and share on Facebook. Don’t forget to subscribe to my email list for updates! 

Please wear a mask outside that covers your mouth and nose, wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance (6 feet) from others to fight Covid-19! 

© Reilly Anderson. 2020. All rights reserved.

Happy Birthday Reilly, you have Autism.

Photo of a cake I made with my mother, that I brought to work in 2019 on my last birthday. Lately my life has felt like this cut up cake!
Photo of a cake I made with my mother, that I brought to work in 2019 on my last birthday. Lately my life has felt like this cut up cake!

Your birthday present? Being on the Autism Spectrum

    This wasn’t how I expected my 34th Birthday to go. I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t expect much on my birthday. I usually have a dinner made by my mother served with homemade cake. (Such as the Yellow cake with chocolate frosting and a layer of raspberry jam shown above) At home with my mother, brother, and I. Nobody expects to be on the Autism Spectrum. To have another mental health problem! I discovered on Monday that I am on the autism spectrum. It was an official diagnosis from my therapist as something I requested. I have suspected that I have been on the spectrum for a couple years now. I did many online questionnaires, but those are really only a guide. Online tests for medical conditions border on pseudoscience.  I became suspicious when test after online test indicated that I was probably autistic. A pattern was emerging. I’m not sure if this is a birthday gift or not. A gift is unconditional. You do not give a gift expecting something in return. Because that is manipulation. I learned this the hard way by losing a relationship. I regret my actions. I will never do that ever again. 

A health issue such as Autism is all conditions. Let’s get one thing clear. This is something people are born with. You don’t get it from a fucking vaccine! Any discussion in the comments saying otherwise will be deleted, and not tolerated.

 I’ve always felt there was something different about me. Like I never really fit in. Especially in socializing. I tried to get checked a couple years ago with a previous therapist, but the only way was to go to a specialist for children. That there was no (and still isn’t!) official tests for adults on the autism spectrum. I didn’t pursue it because it felt like a dead end. I had and still have issues to work on in therapy. On my Monday appointment, When my therapist read me through the DSM-5 (The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, https://www.psychiatry.org/psychiatrists/practice/dsm , 04/03/20) test, many of the traits described me. (https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/autism/signs.html, 04/01/20) The diagnosis would explain why I had to learn proper eye contact. Why I, have so much trouble without structure and routines. The biggest hurdle with Autism is that there is little research and help for people who have it as adults. Even in the DSM-5, the questions are aimed toward diagnosing kids. Even the CDC website is written with this bias.

“Diagnosing ASD can be difficult since there is no medical test, like a blood test, to diagnose the disorders. Doctors look at the child’s behavior and development to make a diagnosis. ASD can sometimes be detected at 18 months or younger. By age 2, a diagnosis by an experienced professional can be considered very reliable.1 However, many children do not receive a final diagnosis until much older. This delay means that children with ASD might not get the early help they need.” (https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/autism/facts.html, 04/01/20) Science and research is lagging for Autism studies in adults. 

My diagnosis would explain why: 

  • I can so easily remember punchlines from Chappelle show, Futurama, and South Park. (Though watching these and other favorite shows during my Agoraphobic years to cope is another explanation.)
  • I can do repetitive tasks so easily, and why they are soothing. 
  • I’ve struggled so much in dating. I’ve never felt ready, and the few times I’ve tried I’ve left ashamed, frustrated, and disappointed. I feel like an outsider two times removed as everyone else does it.
  • It takes me a long time to be comfortable with people. 
  • I struggle talking about my feelings. I overshare, and have trouble navigating conversational vulnerability. 
  • Explains why I have intense phases of interests. Then lose interest after I become like an expert.
  • Why I get worked up in conversations and get a massive rush of energy. Then I need to calm myself down with slow deep breaths. A trait of AD/HD, and a symptom of Autism. 
  • My affinity with animals.
  • Super short attention span. As I write this, I have 7 tabs open in Firefox.  On my phone, I have 14 tabs open, and typically have 12+ always open at a given time. Firefox has so many bookmarks that I have them organized into folders. The contents of two folders which have enough bookmarks to fill my computer monitor to the edges on the vertical axis. 

And so on. I don’t want this post to be more list than content. There’s enough listicles already. Nobody likes being kicked in the listicles by surprise.  I have a feeling my actions in the past due to my undiagnosed autism has hurt those that know me. If I haven’t apologized properly, I am sorry. Now that I know what the problem with myself is, I’m able to work on it. Yes, feeling good enough is  healthy to think about yourself. I go by this Louis C.K Quote as a mantra: “When you hurt somebody, you don’t get to decide how they feel.” (https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/7328323-when-a-person-tells-you-that-you-hurt-them-you 04/03/20) Edit: Correction, I misquoted Louis C.K., it is: “When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t.”

   Which means: accept your actions which led to hurting another person, apologize for your actions, and show you mean to change by adjusting your behavior in the future. Most important is to not argue about it. 


Song of the post:

Shout out to Louis C.K. : https://louisck.com/


Thank you for reading this, if you enjoyed it, please give it a like, tell me what you think in the comments, and share on Facebook. Don’t forget to subscribe to my email list for updates! 

Please wear a mask outside that covers your mouth and nose, wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance (6 feet) from others to fight Covid-19! 

© Reilly Anderson. 2020. All rights reserved.

Into the unknown

Photo of Seward Park in Seattle

The first post… The journey into the Unknown Self.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never had a blog before. Sure I have 97k post karma on Reddit, but that doesn’t mean I have any skill at professional writing. Everyone posts online these days. How am I to stand out against the millions of blog writers? Many who have been writing in some form for years. Who went to college for it. My Culinary Arts degree doesn’t compare. I haven’t really ever known what I’ve been doing in life. But, nobody really does. We are all born with the ability to breathe. Little by little we learn. We are guided by our parents until we become adults and have to live on our own. I’m a new writer. Everyone has to start somewhere. Here is my beginning to see if I can be good at writing. I’m 33, unemployed, unsure of what I want to do in the future for my career, and live with my mother. I didn’t want my life to be this way at 33. This is reality. To change you have to meet yourself where you are at the present moment. So, I’ll write badly until I can run with the pros. You have to crawl before your first step. Step without falling before you walk. Walk before you run. My goal is to write a minimum of 370 words once a week. I don’t have a clear idea of the focus on my content yet. Anyway, welcome! 


“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”

― G.K. Chesterton (https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/414151-anything-worth-doing-is-worth-doing-badly)

Thank you for reading this, if you enjoyed it, please give it a like, tell me what you think in the comments, and share on Facebook. Don’t forget to subscribe to my email list for updates! 

Please wear a mask outside that covers your mouth and nose, wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance (6 feet) from others to fight Covid-19! 

© Reilly Anderson. 2020. All rights reserved.