Boots & Shoes

How many pairs of shoes does it take to make a woman happy? That’s the question on my mind today. I’ve been on a spree this week, ordering online, mall shopping, and now am down in the Valley with my SO buying boots. Well, he’s working. I’m the one buying.

He’s a manufacturer’s rep for a boot company that’s located in the Rio Grand Valley, and we’re down here because he needs to stop in at the factory once or twice a year to visit, see what’s in production, what’s in store in the way of advertisement, and because their big trade show in on the horizon in Denver.

While he was working, I went into the retail outlet store at the front of the factory, and found two pairs of boots I couldn’t live without. Then while we were walking through the factory, found another pair I couldn’t live without. The manager measured my foot, and put in the order for me. These are the nicest people you could ever want to meet, always make me feel welcome. In fact, the manager and his wife are actually fans of my LILY novels, so he always asks about what I’m working on.

Truthfully, he seemed less than enthusiastic about my children’s book when I mentioned it, but then the average person doesn’t understand how much time and work a whole big novel takes, and it’s only right that they shouldn’t know or care. It’s the writer’s job to make it look effortless.

I’ve brought the laptop along on this trip, just to see if I can work and play at the same time. Doesn’t seem to be going too well. Last night we had dinner with my aunt and uncle who live down here. I haven’t seen them in a year and the two hours we spent with them flew by in a welter of conversation and laughter. They seemed to have the grandest time telling my SO all about me as a child, which I secretly liked but sort of felt sorry for him, too. But he sat there smiling, looking handsome, and making little comments now and then.

We’re going to spend tonight at the Coast on our way home, sort of break up the trip a little. He’ll get up tomorrow morning and call on some more customers, and I will stay with the dog and try to work some more on the children’s book.

I really wanted to have it done by now, and there’s no reason in the world that I shouldn’t have except that I’ve just been too busy having fun, visiting friends, seeing plays, going to dinner, etc. I am ready to be home for a few days, though. I do better at home, although my office situation is less than optimum. I probably need to figure out some other arrangement. I’ve thought about a small desk for the guest room. I’m not sure yet, and can’t bring myself to completely convert it to a working space, but it’s actually the perfect solution, separated as it is from the rest of the house.

It’s just so hard to retreat into self-imposed exile. But that is absolutely what has to happen if a writer actually hopes to write. Or anyway, it’s what a writer like me, who is so easily distracted, has to do if I want to be productive again. And yet, I think there’s this part of me that feels I have to chose between living a REAL life and writing a PRETEND one, and I balk at that. I don’t want to sequester myself away from the world right now. Do I really have to? I just don’t know the answer to that yet.

Onward....