All posts by Rhonda

I'm a 57 year old lover of life, family, friends, and creative writing (amongst numerous other activities, people, animals, big ideas, and things). I am a native Minnesotan now living in my happy place of "Minnesconsin". I was a case manager/social worker for many years in Wisconsin and am now ready for my new chapter in life as a writer. I enjoy writing about my day to day (mis)adventures, the people I love and those that inspire me, places I've traveled to, music that makes my world go 'round, politics and current affairs, and general observations and ideas about life and ideas on how it could be improved. My hope is that my blog will be interactive and uplifting.

Painting Rocks

Are you a die-hard list maker like me?

If so, you probably find list-making to be a useful self-help tool. A way to keep things organized, in black and white, to check off as you go. To keep you on track and focused. It’s a good way to manage stress.

Sometimes I make a one day “to-do” list, and sometimes it’s a week long “to-do” list. If it’s an especially busy weekend coming up, I’ll create a “to- do list” for that too.

One interesting thing I’ve realized, however, is that often, at the end of the day, I’ve checked off everything on my “to-do” list except for the “non-essential” tasks. The kind of tasks that are just for me. They’re personal. They don’t benefit anyone but me. The fun stuff.

I put these tasks on my lists thinking that will “make” me do them. But I’ve learned that it doesn’t work that way. I often carry the “just for me” tasks into the next day. Then the next and the next. And sometimes I get to a point where I just stop putting those things on my lists altogether.

One recent example of this is painting rocks. I published a post a while back where I mentioned painting rocks as vegetables to be placed in our gardens. I ordered a set of acrylic paints months ago, with the notion that my grandson and I would use them together when I was watching him in the afternoons. Then, before I knew it, my daughter found a babysitter who lives much closer to her, and he no longer needed to come to my house after his day program/school.

I loved the idea of playing with these paints. Not that I’m some kind of talented artist. I’m not. But, now that I’m older and wiser I don’t care that I’m not talented. It’s totally beside the point. Painting original things is fun. It’s meditative. My mom was a great (non-professional) artist. She painted rocks herself back in the ’70s. I remember one in particular, which was a bowl of fruit. It was intricate and colorful and I sure wish I had come across it after she passed so I could have it as a memento.

Several weeks ago, after having “paint rocks” on my to-do lists since May, I went outside and picked a few decent-sized, flat-ish rocks. They sat in my basement, unadorned, until two weeks ago. The acrylic paint set was housed in my dining room cupboard, unopened.

That was the day I just decided I was going to paint those damn rocks. It was time to check it off my “to-do” list to ensure I would not abandon the idea of doing it altogether.

So I put up the plastic folding table which I, long ago, designated for arts and crafts with my grandson. I grabbed those three rocks, opened up the paints (oh so many pretty colors), got out those cheap plastic paint brushes the kid and I would use for water color pictures and simply painted them.

It felt good. Like I was giving myself a hug. I let my mind drift as I squeezed droplets of colors on a paper plate. I didn’t have any particular vision of what I wanted these rocks to look like. I just took the colors that pleased me the most and went with the flow.

I’ve got other items on my revolving “to-do” list that I infrequently get to. Those things are often self-care-related, like giving myself a pedicure. Or reading a book in the afternoon. Or messaging someone that I’d like to get to know better.

You’d think that being an unemployed empty-nester, I’d be engaging in all sorts of personally fulfilling activities. Maybe I just need to manage my time better. Get up earlier. Cut out the t.v. watching at night. Perhaps.

For now, though, I think for just one day-and soon-I will start my day by doing one of these more fun, self-serving, activities and push any of those “essential” tasks to later in the day, or even…the next day.

Do You Care About Hollywood’s Writer’s Strike?

I do.

If it’s not on your radar, the gist of it is that the people who write all the entertainment content we consume have been on strike since 5/2/23. They are part of the Writer’s Guild of America. They’re striking because while the head honchos who helm the shows and movies they write are raking in excessive amounts of cash, the writers are being short-changed.

These writers deserve better.

What’s interesting to me is that for a bunch of different reasons, we are now living in a “gig” economy. Yet, writers in Hollywood have been a part of this employment model for as long as they’ve been in the business. The jobs they have are not ones in which they punch a clock. They are not jobs that offer long-term stability. Their work is project-based. They often have lags between writing gigs. Similar to those in the teaching profession, who typically have summers off, they are in a position where they have to stretch their income to cover expenses and keep a roof over their heads during those “in-between” times. That has got to be stressful.

I feel for these writers. They are underpaid because they are underappreciated. Thankfully they have a union and the wherewithall and support to stage this strike. I hope they are successful.

None of the tv shows or movies we have enjoyed over our lifetimes would be possible without writers. Their imaginations, skills with writing dialogue, and ability to collaborate with other writing colleagues and various staff on projects are what give us viewers the range of entertainment we enjoy today. The writers are the heart of the content we consume. None of it would be possible without them.

Full disclosure: in my fantasy life, I am one of these writers. In real life, I am simply a humongous admirer of these writers.

Because of this interest I’ve always had in being a creative writer for tv and film, I geek out when I encounter the kind of dialogue and storyline that I wish I would have written. For example, if I’m watching something where the writing just dazzles me, I will google the names of the writers responsible so that I can learn more about them and the other projects they’ve contributed to. My keen interest in writing for tv and movies led me to take online Master Classes to learn more (one with Issa Rae and another with Judd Apatow).

But enough about me and my fantasy tv-writing life.

One way to think about it, as viewers of tv and film, is that while this writer’s strike rages on (side note: per BBC yesterday, the actors union, SAG-AFTRA has a contract that expired at midnight, so they may join the writers in striking), we can choose to view great content via cable, streaming, or in the movie theaters that we haven’t yet seen. To remind ourselves of the value of quality writing, and stave off our yearning for new seasons of our favorite shows and movies that had to halt production as a result of the strike.

I know on this blog in the past I’ve gone on about specific tv shows or movies I have loved and why. I’ve shared ideas of films I’d love to see made. But now, I’m going to give you a little list of the shows that I highly recommend based on the quality of the writing that made them so *chef’s kiss*.

Some of these shows I’m about to recommend here potentially have more seasons in them, depending on the result of this writer’s strike. Some of them have concluded their runs but ought to be watched or re-watched (note to self, go back and watch this specific episode) in honor of the stellar writing. Either way, we all ought to root for the talented writers who produced these shows.

  • “The Bear”, streaming on Hulu. Why? The chaotic realism in the dialogue and the 3-dimensional characters.
  • “Somebody Somewhere”, streaming on Max and Hulu. Why? It’s a beautiful display of adult friendships in America in these times. The words that come out of the character’s mouths feel real, like how we actually converse with our friends. Their stories are relatable.
  • “Grace and Frankie”, streaming on Netflix. Why? The zingers, the hilarious interactions, and the dialogue display the unique connections each character has with all the other characters.
  • “You” on Netflix. Why? I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s dark. The dialogue is sharp, the story moves along swiftly, and is completely engrossing.
  • “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend”, streaming on Netflix. Why? Rachel Bloom, comedic writer, and performer extraordinaire. It’s completely outside the box, terrifically entertaining and inventive. It’s also great story writing about adult friendships, like “Somebody Somewhere”.
  • “Hacks” on Netflix. Why? It’s about comedic writing. The process, the ups and downs of this career path. It’s witty and charming and is at the top of my list of shows I most wish will have a Season 3.

Because I’m not only an admirer of great tv and film writing, but an enthusiast of the perfect melding of song with scene and characters, I’m ending this blog post with performances of songs plucked from a couple of the shows I’ve recommended above. Sometimes the right music choices in tv and film are the icing on the cake.

Strike On, Writer’s Guild writers!!

***Featured image at top of post courtesy of https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/business/business-news/entertainment-community-fund-requests-writers-strike-1235529858/***

Wrapping Things Up and Circling Back

Do you remember the series on this blog entitled “I Have Questions” that I started about six blog posts ago?

Well, I never officially wrapped it up. I took some detours for a bit and lost the plot.

Perhaps I’m taking myself too seriously, but closing out this series today will bring me some peace of mind. I’m hoping that some of what I’m about to spew resonates with you.

But first, I need to circle back. I want you to know that the inspiration for the “I Have Questions” series was in the form of my 9-year-old grandson. If you’ve been following my blog for a bit, you’ll recall that there was a 4 month period of time during which my daughter and grandson lived with us in Colorado. A true highlight of this time was when my grandson would, out of the blue, look at me with his big brown eyes and pretty eyelashes and say “Grandma, I have a question”.

I captured some of those “I have a question” stories in a draft folder, intending to share them on this blog. Now seems like the right time to share them.

Once, I was in the shower as he was supposed to be getting ready for school. I heard a knock on the door. I ask “Who’s there?” (knowing it’s him). No response. A couple of minutes later, another knock. He says, opening the door, “I have a question”. I ask what it is. “Is it ok if I go to the doctor before school today?” he asks. I ask him why he needs to go to the doctor. He says it’s because he has a “hole in his cheek”. I ask how he got a hole in his cheek. He says it’s because he used Grandpa’s razor on it and cut it. I said “Wow, you must be bleeding like crazy”. I then stick my wet head out of the shower to find him sitting on the toilet with his hand covering his cheek. He tells me he can’t remove his hand because “blood will gush out”. I told him to get out of the bathroom and get to school. He complied.

Don’t worry, folks, he did not have a hole in his cheek. Just a minuscule knick. This kid has a flair for the dramatic.

Another one: “I have a question. What comes before Tuesday?” Me: “Monday”. Him: “Hmm”. I have no idea what that was about.

A more recent one: “I have a question. What’s a virgin?” (this was in response to him seeing an ad for “Hocus Pocus 2” after having seen the original). As I hemmed and hawed about how to respond, Hubs piped up with “It’s what they call someone who’s never done something before”.

Genius!

Now back to finishing what I started.

If I had to tell you one thing about myself that I dislike, it’d be that I start projects that I don’t finish. And I’m feeling sick and tired of it.

There are multiple projects I have started, particularly in the last year or two, which remain unfinished. I’m getting to work behind the scenes on finishing at least some of them. Some are arts and crafts related. Some are home improvement-related, and others are creative writing-related.

I started this series without thinking it through, and after a couple of posts I started feeling like I pigeon-holed myself. It was too broad. I neglected to set any parameters whatsoever when I came up with the idea of starting this series. I think it’s linked to the fact that I have few limits on what questions I want to ask: of myself, others, or the universe.

But, hey, I’ve always viewed my blogging endeavor as an experiment. Trying a series was part of this experiment. I’m very much not wording this right, but you (bloggers) know how there’s an option for topics on the right-hand side of your “blog post in progress”, which includes the word “uncategorized”? I’m caught between feeling like I should embrace that and questioning if it’s serving me.

Serious question for other personal bloggers reading this: Can you relate to the “uncategorized” label? If so, how?

Ok, so clearly I do still have questions.

Just not a series about them any longer.

The song in my head as I wrap up this blog post:

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

***Featured image courtesy of https://quotefancy.com/quote/1644669/Laura-Day-Endings-are-beginnings-if-we-allow-them-to-be

It’s Pride Month: Thoughts from an Ally

A recent brawl discussion I inadvertently started on Facebook with a meme expressing my love and support of the LGBTQIA+ community frustrated me.

It was this meme:

Simple and to the point, right? Not up for discussion for me. Yet, a Facebook friend decided that this was an opportunity to pose as someone who is genuinely curious and open-minded. It was merely an excuse for this person to question the legitimacy of others who feel and think differently than them about their sexuality and gender identity.

I’d love to say that I got into the fray, but I didn’t. Chalk it up to being a person who shies away from conflict, but I can tell you that any response I would have given would have not made one lick of a difference in this person’s attitude or opinions. Also, two other friends of mine on Facebook, both members of the LGBTQIA+ community, responded with statistics and insights in a way that I could not have. So I let it be.

I’m an ally, striving to a better one. My youngest kid is queer and trans. I love them not “in spite” of their gender identity and sexual orientation, but in part because of it.

I love that my kid knows who they are at their core. I love that my kid felt comfortable coming out to Hubs and me. I love that my kid has a big heart for all, but especially for those in their community who haven’t found acceptance in their family of origin. A big part of what they do in their job is to reach out and help the unhoused population in Denver, some of which are also members of the LGBTQIA+ community. They (my kid) provide them with comfort and validation. They provide them with safety and resources. I couldn’t be prouder of them.

Beyond my open-hearted, creative, and intelligent kid, I love and admire many more of those in the LGBTQIA + community along with their allies. Many in this community are people I have close friendships with. People I have worked with or worked for. People who have cared about and for me, made me laugh, and enlightened me.

I am grateful for all of them.

Growing up and beyond, when the topic of LGBTQIA + came up, relatives of mine have said things like “God didn’t call them Adam and Steve, you know”. Former co-workers have said things like “love the sinner, hate the sin”. I never felt that I had the right words in those moments to respond to that unsolicited commentary.

Those worn-out, condescending, and clueless phrases infuriate me. Because I don’t believe homosexuality is a sin. The religious zealots in our midst like to shout their opposition, but in reality the Bible only mentions homosexuality in the context of men sleeping with boys. Which of course is pedophilia.

The God I believe in loves us all. The message I’ve received, thanks in part to a bit of studying and processing the Bible and being a long-term member of the UCC (United Church of Christ) is this: we are not to judge each other, but love each other. Care for each other. Support each other, regardless of our differences. Respect each other and hold space in our hearts for “the other”. Affirm, not just accept, each other.

My pastor (I attend “vurtch”, as in virtual church, due to my home church being stationed in Colorado and not here in Wisconsin) had a great sermon this past Sunday re: pride month, love, and the LGTBQIA+ community. One of the most important points he made was that here in the U.S., we are now, as a society, so anti-stranger. It’s true. And it’s sad.

Diversity in all of its forms is what makes the world go ’round. It deserves celebration. It deserves reverence. It deserves attention. We all benefit from it.

We are all just humans here, bumbling our way through life. Let’s have some compassion and move on.

Don’t we have bigger fish to fry than enacting laws that further disadvantage our LGBTQIA+ peers and youth and foment hate towards the “other”?

Here’s a song that touches my heart by the massively talented LGBTQ artist, Brandi Carlile.

Happy Pride Month to all who celebrate!!

Simple Country Drives

Over the weekend, after spending time perusing handmade wares at a local arts and crafts fair with my SIL, I decided to extend my alone time by taking the long way home.

It was delicious. It gave me a sense of gratitude for the beauty of this area we live in. It relaxed me. It soothed my soul. It felt so freeing.

This song, by the marvelously talented Yola, came into my mind as I cruised along the two-lane country roads. It’s fine by me if you don’t continue reading beyond this; especially if you take my advice, which is to watch the video or simply close your eyes and listen to its goodness.

As I was tooling around in our Tacoma that day, I was reminded of summers when I was growing up. Sometimes my dad would up and decide that we were “going for a ride”. Not with any destination in mind, though sometimes a trip to the Dairy Queen occurred. Dad would get his peanut buster parfait or a hot fudge sundae, and I would get my favorite, a buster bar.

We’d sit in silence, or sometimes with the a.m. country radio station on, playing Kenny Rogers, Alabama, and the like.

We would chit-chat, my dad and I, driving the “loop” in our town and we’d meander our way in Dad’s brown Ford Thunderbird through the country roads and just cruise.

Priceless and peaceful memories.

I sure love my simple and intentional “country” life here in Minnesconsin.

Falling Short and Moving On

I do not want this blog post to be a pity party. I am not going to wallow whatsoever. Everything is fine. I’m ready to move on.

Here’s the thing: my blog posts have not been terribly consistent. I skipped publishing last week because of my garage sale. I just did not have the time or the energy to come up with a blog post.

So, I fell short. And not only with blogging.

I told the gal on the phone when I was placing an ad in our local free “shopper” publication that “hopefully I’ll make more than” the cost of the ad. Well, I did that. Just not by much.

As they say, “The joke’s on me”.

My goal going into this garage sale was to make myself some money. I looked upon it as a personal fundraiser. Yet, I fell short.

No matter. Seriously. I benefitted from having this garage sale in other ways. More important than cold hard cash.

Like the fun “girl time” I had in the garage the night before with my neighbor and my sister-in-law. We enjoyed margaritas as we chatted and laughed, pricing stuff late into the night.

During the two-day sale, I had lots of interactions with other neighbors as well, and I learned a few things about the lake and our little neighborhood.

SIL and I re-purposed the crappy old stool one of our neighbors put out on the road the day before.

We giggled along with the kiddos and their parents that came in when the kids discovered my “Badass” (from the Jen Sincero book which I love) buzzer. You hit it once and it says (in Jen’s voice) “You can do eeet!”. Hit it again and it says “Do what you love!”. A third hit exclaims”Feed fear a suck-it sandwich!”, a fourth hit gets you “You create your reality!”, then these goofy (yet worthy) affirmations conclude with “You’re a badass!”

Yes, in this process I inadvertently taught my “bonus” grandson (daughter’s boyfriend’s 3-year-old) a naughty word. Oops.

The buzzer didn’t sell. I think I’m going to keep it. I suspect it will come in handy someday.

I also came up with another idea: to sell my stuff on Facebook Marketplace. There’s still quite a bit of stuff left, obviously, and selling it this way seems much easier than my previous method. Additionally, being the student that I am, I am eager to learn new-to-me social media skills.

Now it’s time to share the most appropriate song for the state I’m in after this experience. It’s “the worst song ever” per my 9 year-old-grandson.

This Time I Have a Question For You

Why do you blog?

Let me explain where this question comes from.

My blogging anxiety these days is hitting an all-time high. I started a series, here, the 4th installment of what you are reading now, entitled “I Have Questions”. I’m terrible at promoting myself but I know it’s part of the deal if I want to grow my following and make something more of this blogging thing. In that spirit, here’s the first, second, and third post in my series.

I fear I may have inadvertently set myself up for failure by starting this series. It came from a good and curious place, but I didn’t think it through. Questions? We all have questions, right? What those questions are can’t be forced, which is what I’ve been struggling with. Which I think is ridiculous.

I published a post in March of 2021, when I was working still. It was about why I blog. And I missed some things in that post. I didn’t go deep enough.

It’s still true that I blog for the connections I make and the things I learn along the way in the blogosphere. And yes, I still blog because the feedback I often get is validating and gives me warm fuzzies.

I now have more followers than I did then so it seemed right to me to ponder the question again, with the hope that you will all join in. Posing this question now also gives me an opportunity to tell you all, from my heart, why I have kept this up.

The primary reason I blog, or more specifically, write, is because it’s much more comfortable for me to find the words and write them out than it is for me to find the words and use my voice to speak them out loud. Especially when I have a lot to say, which you all know I do.

When I was younger and had an argument with someone, often I’d be so upset that all I could do was cry. I couldn’t form the words or turn off the tears easily. So I would grab a notebook and write it all out. Sometimes I’d craft it into a letter that I’d give to the person who had upset me so. Often the act of writing it down had to be enough because I believed sharing it with them would not be welcome or understood.

While I love being around people and having meaningful conversations, it gives me a lot of anxiety. I feel embarrassed if others eyes are on me, which results in me tripping over or mispronouncing words, or I freeze mid-sentence and lose whatever train of thought I was riding on. Writing is easier. No one is looking at me while I do it, waiting for me to get to the damn point already.

I recognize the irony here, however. The irony of being so self-conscious when conversing with others that I don’t show up as well as I want to; yet here I am, telling so much of my business on the internet where literally anyone can see it. And judge me.

Maybe I’m crazy. Probably. Because I’m sticking with the blogging thing, including my “I Have Questions” series.

It still feels right to me.

So, again, I ask: why do you blog?

The Latest Question

Is rhubarb a fruit or a vegetable?

This is what my brain started to wonder about a couple of weeks ago.

The visual from my yard that prompted this initial question:

This is one bush? Or is it simply called a plant?

I’m proud to say that while I was tempted to say it’s a fruit (based on my association of rhubarb to sweet baked goods), just before I clicked enter when I put that question into Google search, I thought “no, it’s a vegetable”. I think it’s because it grows in the ground.

It’s not uncommon for a question answered to lead to another question, which is what happened next.

Because of course, I have no idea what to do with it. I fancy myself a maven of the kitchen, but rhubarb is not something that has ever been in my repertoire. My vague recollection of rhubarb, as I don’t think Bonnie (my mom) grew it in her backyard garden, is that it’s not pleasant to eat raw. That must have been someone else’s garden. It tasted like sour celery. I do have memories, however, of enjoying it baked in cake or muffins.

So, I proceeded on a quest for “best practices” for all things rhubarb. My walking buddy/neighbor, who is far more knowledgeable than I of all things gardening, told me last week that I ought to be picking it within the next couple of weeks.

Time was of the essence, and because I think it’s more fun to crowd- source certain questions than it is to Google it out, I turned to Facebook.

I learned that cutting the stalks is a no-no. Doing so prevents it from growing back next year. I was told by many to not eat the leaves as they are poisonous (not like it would occur to me to eat them in the first place). Freezing the cut-up stalks was a common piece of advice, which I will be following. My Facebook friends were enthusiastic about strawberry rhubarb jam and pies too.

One response was via DM from a friend from our old neighborhood in La Crosse. She had just pulled her rhubarb stalks out of her garden and was in the process of cooking them down with water and sugar to make sauce when she happened upon my query on Facebook. She told me she freezes the sauce to pour over ice cream, yogurt, or cake in the winter months. She also shared that she makes a “mean” rhubarb gin and tequila. I’m not a gin fan, but that sure sounds like a creative use for this vegetable doesn’t it?

I also perused Bonnie’s recipe box and found a few different recipes for cake, muffins, and pie. I love seeing her handwriting on these cards. It conjures up her voice for me, which is bittersweet. Kind of like rhubarb, I suppose.

The surprise bonus for me was the anecdotal information Bonnie provided on some of the recipe cards. The “Mom” in the recipe referred to as “Mom’s Wonderful Rhubarb Cake” was Bonnie’s mom, my Grandma Pearl. I gathered this from Bonnie writing “just super good and mom doesn’t esp. like rhubarb”. Another recipe card I found among the rhubarb recipes in Bonnie’s recipe box was for orange bread. She noted at the top of the card “Dad’s”. That would be her dad, my Grandpa Fritz.

I’m thinking rhubarb sauce would be quite delicious drizzled on top of this orange bread. I’ll report back once I’ve tried making it.

A Question about Questions

What do you think: Is there such a thing as a “stupid” question?

Any answer you might give to this question is going to be subjective.

Here’s mine: Yes, but…

Such as “but it’s a matter of opinion” or “but it’s better to ask a stupid question than to pretend you know the answer”.

I mean, technically and subjectively, stupid questions do exist. Because stupid people exist.

I’m going to resist the temptation I have to be sarcastic and come up with examples of stupid questions here.

Question-askers ought to be encouraged. Nobody should feel they can’t ask questions in any given situation. Questions lead to answers, and answers fill up our tanks of knowledge. Isn’t that what we all want in this life, to gain knowledge?

What one thinks is a stupid question, another is seeking the answer. It may not just be the question-asker; it could be one or more people within earshot of the question. It is both unhelpful and unkind to share our opinion with the asker that the question is stupid. It doesn’t move things forward and it doesn’t engender trust in the person being asked the question.

It shuts curiosity down.

I will stick with the technically incorrect yet kinder, gentler school of thought that “there’s no such thing as a stupid question” as I believe my opinion on the intelligence of a question anyone asks of me is much less important than respecting others and fostering meaningful, loving, and trusting relationships.

Simple as that.

Now, the questions I ask in this series (which began with this post) may be considered silly or odd, but I aim to avoid judging any of them as “stupid”. As I hope you, my smart readers, will avoid as well. Go ahead and school me if you will, but please be nice about it.

I’m a student, folks, and my purpose in that role is to ask questions so that I can learn. If through my posing, pondering, and answering them, I can manage to enlighten any of you out there along the way, all the better.

***Featured image courtesy of https://www.pngitem.com/so/question-marks/

I Have Questions

This post is about declaring that I am a student.

Not a “student of life”. That’s trite.

Now, I am a student of a lot of things. So many that I need to start narrowing it down, or I’m about to learn a little about a lot of things.

And that will make my brain hurt. No point in opening myself up to that.

As a student, the most important thing is to maintain your curiosity. That’s why I’m starting what might be a series on this blog here with just one question.

And today, I’m an English major. Or a student of high school English. You decide.

Gotta start somewhere, right?

Now, onto my question.

I’ve been hemming and hawing about “honing in vs. homing in” for the past several days. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. It was that or “Hemming and Hawing about Honing In vs. Homing In” as the title of this blog post.

Is it “honing in” or “homing in”? I’ve seen it both ways in different publications and I can’t tell which is right. I’ve always thought it was “honing in”.

Excuse me while I google that.

Aren’t we so spoiled that whenever we have a question we can just “google” it?

First thing I found when I searched Google:

From prowritingaid.com: “Home in and hone in are commonly confused phrases which both refer to narrowing in on a particular topic. Home in means to locate and move toward something. Hone in means to focus on something.

Not necessarily helpful.

From masterclass.com: “Home in is more acceptable and means to direct on a target. The phrasal verb derives from the 19th-century use of homing pigeons, but it resurged in the 20th century to refer to missiles that home in on their targets. It’s also commonly used metaphorically, where to home in on something is to focus on and make progress toward it.”

An image of a Homing Pigeon for reference

From grammarist.com: “The definition of hone is to sharpen an object or a skill. You can hone a blade, but you can also hone your negotiation skills or cooking skills.”.

And, this: “So, the main difference between “hone in” and “home in” lies in the definition of their first words. Some sentences can use both phrases, but the meaning won’t be the same.”

Hmm…something to ponder for a bit I suppose.

So neither one is right or wrong; they are two separate phrases. I still am unsure that I have a clear understanding of what the differences are.

And I think when it comes to my writing/blogging pursuits, both phrases could be used.

I may not get this right (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong-remember I’m a student!) but, in relation to this blog post, a true statement using these two phrases, would be this:

I homed in on what question I wanted to start this series with and in the process of writing this blog post, I have honed in on the difference between “home in and hone in”.

I think anyway.

Fellow English students, what’s your take on these two similar, yet apparently different phrases?