Thing One and Thing Two

I could spend today discussing how upset I am at one of my neighbors allowing a pair of its cats to mate and have kittens. If I had chosen to discuss this, I’d have to point out the neighbors already have at least four (and possibly six) cats—all of whom live outdoors. I’d also have to mention we live in the wilderness: we have all manner of wildlife here including things like coyote, bear, and fox, and I’d share that I imagine each considers kitten a delicacy—especially this time of year as other things become scarce, and the snow is on the verge of falling.

If I were to write about this, I’d end by saying my fear for the safety and well-being of these creatures is superseded only by my knowing where there is one litter of kittens, there is the potential for more—exponentially. I’d share with you my concerns that these kittens will become cat-producing snack-producing factories in the next four to six months and that the neighbors of whom I speak are trying to sell their home, and based on what I know of them, they will not be taking any of the new cats with them.

If I were to write about this, I’d leave out the part about how big a sucker I am when it comes to stray animals and how thoroughly upsetting this is for me.

Instead, I decided to focus on this month’s NaNoWriMo, and one of the things I use to keep my fingers moving on my keyboard in order to make my 50,000 words in 30 days’ time: it’s a program called Home Typist.

This FREE program adds the delightful sounds made by a typewriter to one’s computer keyboard, and for me, the rhythmic tap-tap-tapping is music to my ears.

I suppose my love for these sounds stems from having grown up in an era of typewriters and high school typing class and a mother who spent the early portion of her career as a madly-typing secretary. (You do know that the woman behind every mad scientist was a madly-typing secretary, right?)

I have recollections of my mother’s fingers moving so rapidly across the keys the actual mechanisms would get tangled, and the metal arms with their upraised letters would have to be picked apart gently.

The ball of letters was an improvement, but I still recall times my mother’s word-per-minute ability outshined them. It was a bit like a Kung-Fu movie: her fingers would stop and the words would just keep coming.

Admittedly, there are times I have to turn my Home Typist off, and when those times occur, a little bit of the magic I feel while writing evaporates. Fortunately, the program sits unobtrusively in my menu bar, and I know the time between mute and magic is merely a tick-box away.