I went for years without a hobby.  In grade school into high school and college, it was baseball.  I would watch on tv, take the train into the city to watch MLB games, and I played.  Oh, I played.  I played slow pitch from the time I was little until I was so old I got kicked out of the league.  And even then I continued to coach.  I played on the school softball team.  I played girls and co-ed, and hung pretty well with the guys.  I was never the very best on the team, but I’d say I was quite consistently top 5, especially near the end.

And there was an end.

After I had my kids, I couldn’t play.  I couldn’t, which eased into shouldn’t, which slowly but surely became wouldn’t.  I won’t play anymore.  I feel I’ve been away for too long.  It’s probably not like riding a bike and I don’t bother doing things I’m not good at.  I don’t see the point.

So without baseball as a hobby, I was left with nothing.  My life was full with family and work, but there wasn’t an activity I did solely for me.  I dabbled in scrapbooking, which was a terribly domestic thing for me to do.  I finished an album of Eirinn’s first year and then I was done.  I have a lot of money worth of unused supplies sitting in a closet somewhere, just waiting. 

But then I found writing.  I started piddling around with this blog, back when it was called Tornado Eirinn, and I found that I really, really enjoyed putting pen to paper.  Or pixels to screen, as the case may be.    I exclusively wrote what were simply electronic entries in an online baby book, but I enjoyed the medium.  However, while taking joy in the writing, I always wished I could stray from the mommy-ness of it all and write for myself. 

I wrote for myself in high school.  I was an editor for our school’s literary magazine, Grendel, and I had many pieces featured over the years.  I excelled in Creative Writing class, and it was consistently my favourite hour of the day.  Again, I wasn’t the best writer in the school, but that was ok.  I loved it, nonetheless.

When Avery was born, the time had come to abandon Tornado Eirinn.  The blog, not the person.  She’s still around here, somewhere.  I couldn’t in good conscious keep up a blog named after ONE of my children.  So this place became My Tornado Alley.  And I vowed to put more of me into my writing.  Of course, there would be stories about the girls, because they are an enormous part of what makes me me, but there’s so much more. 

I have a sense of humour that, at times, is not child-friendly.  I’m not always happy and cheerful.  I reflect on my past.  I speculate on my future.  And sometimes I like to tell stories.  Stories that are pulled from one brief moment of my real life, then bathed in fiction, and served up with a side of make-believe.

This is my new hobby.  This is what I love doing.  I love writing, even if I’m writing something that no one else appreciates.  This is my space to put pixels to screen and if you like what you see, you’re cordially invited to stay.

So that’s where we are.  That’s what this place is for me.  It is, quite simply, whatever I want it to be.  It’s my hobby.


I started this post with the sole intention of announcing that today I’ve been chosed as a Featured Writer at Indie Ink!  I’m excited and honoured and proud.

So please jump on over there and read Still Mine.  It’s something I wrote a while back, but has remained one of my favourite pieces I’ve ever written.  Let me know what you think.


3 thoughts on “Hobbifying

  1. Beautiful. It’s fascinating to see how different people stumbled into writing…and then how strong a grasp it can take on a girl. It keeps threatening to become more of a crack addiction for me though. I might need an intervention.

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