Making New Memories, What?

The Christmas blues are upon me. It's starting to affect my every day life. We have had way WAY too much of it this year, too many houseguests, too many gatherings, just too much period. I'm ready for life to get back to normal, calmer, less stress, less cooking, less have-tos, less. We have one more thing, and then it's over. I'll be taking down all the decorations probably by Christmas Day night.

And isn't it just pitiful that it isn't even officially Christmas yet and I already feel this way? What has happened to us that we make ourselves insane with all this STUFF that is supposed to be fun? Part of the trouble, I think, is this "memory" thing we humans have in our brains. I want to make new memories, but it's hard to let go of the old memories, and I still feel all the old demands even though they really aren't there anymore. Unless I make them be there, which I have a habit of doing. More and more, I think ignoring the holidays sounds like a good idea. Or at the very least, doing something COMPLETELY different, like booking a cruise, or taking a road trip. Wouldn't it be nice to spend Christmas in a B&B somewhere like Ireland, where the traditions are their own, and where we would be forced to think outside the box, as they say? Next year, we plan to go to the cabin early and spend Christmas there. I think that sounds wonderful.

The children's book I wrote earlier this year has come back form-rejected from yet another publisher. Guess it isn't as outstanding and original as I thought. Also guess credentials don't mean much. I'm surprised by the form rejections. I'm also surprised by how long it takes to get a response. Publishing has certainly changed since the 90s. If I had someone who could illustrate the book, I swear, I would self-publish the damned thing.

This little book has been a sort of tipping my toe in, testing the water again. And I don't like the chill I'm feeling. It doesn't do much to make me want to finish the endless novel, that's for sure. Yet, I have been contacted by two readers in the past month who had just read one of my books and wanted to get in touch. Both felt moved enough to write to me, and that just shows me that the kind of books I have written and would like to write again, are not out of style. I think it's the publisher's who get it wrong, but then, I've had that opinion for a long long time.

Onward .....

Merry @&%$*)$*#& Christmas!

The party over the weekend went off well. Ended up with 22, which was the headcount the last time we had one of these shindigs. One of my cousins who lives nearby didn't come, and I missed seeing him. And the mother of my grandson, along with my grandson, was a no-show. She waited until the party was underway to send a cryptic email. It really did put a damper on the whole thing for me.

As I age I see why the holidays are so stressful. There has to be someway to offset the accompanying depression. Maybe the answer is to downplay the whole season. Part of what happens is the memories of past Christmases, which are probably enhanced by distance, rise up and beckon. When I try to remember which were the best holidays, the ones that come to me are from my childhood primarily, or from the childhood of my own children, and these are circumstances that are impossible to replicate. I'm ready to start new traditions. Or do away with traditions altogether. I admit to being caught in the trap of feeling down again this year.

Most of it comes from the situation with my younger son. The whole thing has been exacerbated by having this party. It was a risk I knew existed way back in the spring when I began the planning of it. I thought that I could nip it from the beginning when my dear, well-meaning aunt mentioned how wonderful it would be to see this particular son again. I told her that would not happen. As much as I love him, I will not invite someone who threatens me with physical harm to come to my home. Now, one of my cousins wants to know how to contact my son, and I don't want to answer. I think I will confront it head-on and tell them the truth.

That part was all written two weeks ago, when I was still feeling spurned and fragile. I've had time to readjust myself and get over it, but I am really tired of Christmas, and it's not even here yet. It seems to go on forever nowadays, with so many families split apart by divorce or mere extension. I've already attended two additional parties since the one with my family: my old buddies from Yorktown gave one, which was lowkey by comparison to the big family shindigs, and the SO's family gathering, which happened at his brother's house. I found myself, about halfway through the last one, wishing to just be home watching football, or something as mundane.

I like my everyday life. It satisfies me. I don't need a holiday to remind me of how good things are for me. I'm grateful every day. We are to have one more minor gathering on Christmas eve during the day. Then that night, we have decided to head off to the movie, just the two of us, to see "True Grit." The current version is supposed to more closely resemble the TRUE GRIT book than did the one back yonder starring John Wayne, basically, as John Wayne. Never was a fan. Still am not fond of one-note actors. We will head for the mountains next Tuesday. Yea! Can't wait.

Onward ....

Well, Really ....

OK, I have realized after rereading the last post, that I use the word 'really' way too much. I'm going to work on that. It's easy to get into bad habits with language. Not as easy to get out of them.

Tomorrow my son and his partner, and my brother will arrive for the big family party on Saturday. Some of the ones who live far away have backed out. I don't blame them. The weather is foul in the parts of the country where they would be coming from, and I would hate for somebody I care about to get hurt trying to get here. We will miss them, but so be it. I'm starting to get excited now about seeing everybody. Not that I wasn't excited before, but I faced a lot of 'have-tos' this week and I needed to get through them all. Just about done with the last thing, cleaning the house, and I will be ready for company by noon tomorrow when they begin to arrive.

My dear SO has been so helpful and patient with me. He's come now to understand the frenzy I get into when I've got this stuff going on, people coming to visit, wanting everything to be perfect. I am trying not to be quite so uptight but I'm not sure I'm doing a great job of it.

On a lighter note: I went to the pet store earlier this week to get some replacement fish for the aquarium. My pleco had suddenly died, although he was never a particularly healthy one compared to others I've had in the past. He wasn't growing for one thing, and plecos are notorious growers! While I was there I got a few danios to round out the tank. Had lots of room for more fish. These are kind of lime-yellow and very active. Anyway, once I got them home, the dog discovered them. She had never paid a bit of attention to the tank before, but all day long she sat in front of it, just staring in fascination. Problem was the spot where she laid blocked the way for the kitty to go upstairs to his food bowl and litter box, so after several tolerant hours, he finally had enough of her there, and ran at her all puffed up and hissy. It always scares her when he does that, so she moved. But she continued later to stare at the "swimming lizards" in the tank. It was kind of cute. Today, she's back to ignoring the fish.

We moved the desk from the SO's old place out to the guest room across the garage. As soon as this week is through, I'm moving some of my work from upstairs out there, like the endless novel, for one thing. After having read my friend's manuscript, I'm gassed up about writing again.

Onward .....

The Coast, The Holidays, The Mountains

Waiting on a norther this morning. It was supposed to have arrived last night around midnight, but here it is, 7:00 am and it hasn't got here yet.

We went down to the Coast on Friday, just spent one night, but we went over to our favorite eating place, sat out on the back patio, had raw oysters and shrimp nachos, a few beers, and watched the pier lights play on the calm bay water. Reflections rippled as the sun went down. There's a part of me that really loathes the thought of giving that up, but we have made up our minds to do it, and sort of spread the word that our place was for sale if there were any interested parties around. We payed a visit to the people who bought the other trailer down there. They seem thrilled with their bargain and have really moved in well, made friends. They're the type who will participate in all the community activities that we never did.

Read DOWN RIVER by John Hart. He's a good writer, and there were some parts of this book I really liked, but I think I'm just not really a great mystery reader. This was a second book with this main character, and maybe I should have read the first one, but I really had a hard time finding a character I really liked. My SO, however, accused me of being hypercritical and unable to enjoy a work of fiction. He's partly right. Anyway, he obviously liked the book more than I did. Maybe it's written for a male reader, I don't know. I swear, I just don't think I'll ever have my finger on the pulse of what's a bestseller and what's not.

On the other hand, I did enjoy the silly movie we watched last night, "Prince of Persia, the Sands of Time." It was outlandish, but I had tried once to play the video game, so I saw the cleverness of how they had incorporated the various levels and obstacles into the storyline. Still, it was just another movie made for 14-year-old boys. That's simply how it is nowadays.

We cleaned up the garage and hung the outside Christmas lights. Today we will do the tree. I've already been busy all week getting the house ready for the big party next Saturday. What seemed like a great idea last May is now almost overwhelming me. I have no idea where we're going to PUT 33 people in this house. A friend is loaning me two card tables. Without them, I can seat at most 16 to a table, or 22 total. About 8 or 9 of the 33 will be kids, which has pretty much knocked my SO off his beam. Neither of us is really big on kids, but what do you do -- say No Kids. Of course not. And since these are all my cousins, I think I'll feel differently about this particular bunch of kids. My SO only says he's anxious to meet my brother, but hopefully he will enjoy himself as best he can in this kind of loaded situation. Maybe I shouldn't have put him through all this. But as he has himself said, I've "suffered through" many family gatherings of his, both here and at other places. Truth is, though, it hasn't been suffering for me. I enjoy socializing more than he does.

We have decided to go to the mountains right after Christmas. Our original intention was to spend New Year's at the Coast one last time, but we are both champing at the bit to get back to the cabin. And his granddaughter and her boyfriend are going to join us there. They won't to go skiing. Ah, to be that young ....

Onward.

Thanksgiving

Just finished Thanksgiving with the parents -- my dad and my SO's mom. His mom is a lady's lady, church-going, prim and proper. So what does Daddy do first thing? Came in telling a "dick" joke, so inappropriate, so embarrassing. It was met with absolute silence, except for an awkward chuckle from my SO. Daddy is having a hard time understanding the new dynamics, obviously. I suppose he thought it would endear him, make everybody think what a funny old eccentric man he is. I just thought it was kind of sad, because I know that he admires my SO's mom, but if he thought this was the way to impress her, he was dead wrong. Then at the end of the meal, we were sitting over table having a discussion about the world, etc., and Daddy starts in on his theory of religion, most of which I happen to agree with, but know better than to speak of in "mixed" company. Abruptly, my SO's mom decided it was time to get the hell out of here, and she did, quickly, calling an old friend she wanted to visit. Her leaving, from phone call to driving off down the road, took less than 5 minutes. It was like her back was on fire to get out of here. So.... this'll be the last time I'll have them both here at the same time.

Was a small Thanksgiving meal, and unconventional. We had smoked brisket instead of turkey and dressing. I had made potato salad last night, and green bean casserole this morning. The apple pie was pretty but not as tasty as I had hoped. The apples were, I think, too sweet. Anyway, it's over. We finally got rid of Daddy, too, and now it's just the two of us, the way we really like it best. I opened a bottle of pinot grigio and we're watching a little football, just chillin.

The holidays make me realize how satisfied with my life I already am. The only thing better would be if we could pack up and head to the mountain house.

Onward ....

A Visit With My Grandson

Spent a perfect afternoon with my grandson yesterday. I headed off kind of dreading it because the last few times have been dicey, with him being a moody 13-year old, sullen then sunny, you never know what you're in for from one time to the next. He was waiting for me on the front porch, raced over to the car to give me a big hug, and help me carry in things I had brought -- gifts for his mom and the new baby, one of my old, cleaned up aquariums for him. I was delighted that he was eager for my visit. Later, his mom told me he had been counting down the days.

He was hungry for Chinese, he told me right off. So we went to lunch. I gave him a time limit of 10 minutes to rattle on and on about his video games. I don't think he even took the whole ten. So I eased up and let him refer to his games throughout the day, but he really didn't much. I think having the new baby in the house has made him happy, or maybe it's the general atmosphere of happiness that pervades their home that's rubbed off on him. But it was good to see him so cheerful. We talked about his braces, his football, the upcoming Christmas party, his cats, my cat, the new house in New Mexico, he definitely wants to come to stay there this next summer for part of the time.

We put flowers on Mother's and Grandmother's graves. We went to the pet store to outfit the aquarium. I got ideas for Christmas gifts for him. We rode around town and I showed him some of my old stomping grounds. The neighborhood I grew up in has really gone down. He kept calling the people he saw standing around "gang-bangers." Maybe he's right. I know I was in a hurry to drive on through the area. People around there looked pretty rough.

We got back to his house and the new baby was awake. I got to hold her and feed her a bottle. She's cute cute the way all babies are at 6 weeks old. His parents seem delighted. I didn't get home until nearly 6 o'clock. Just wish it wasn't so far and I could go more often. Most of the time I feel like a lousy grandmother. But he seems to love me anyway. He told me so just before I got in the car to make the 2-hour drive back home.

Onward ....

Trying the Amazon Thing

I signed up with Amazon to be an Associate. Actually, I did it because I would like to sell all these hardcover LILY books I have in my storage closet. See, I bought out the 3rd printing of that book, thinking I would rather store them than have them appear on a remainder table, but now I have them and they're getting old, so I thought signing up to sell them as an Amazon Associate would be a way to get them to readers. Anyway, with the Associate program comes a way to link to your blog, so I'm seeing how the whole thing works. I think it would be kind of cool to mention a book I happen to be reading, and then having a link to that book on Amazon. The way I think it will work is that a hotlink will appear on the title, and then with one click, the blog reader will be taken to a way to buy that book from Amazon. I'm not absolutely certain that's the way it goes, but I'll give it a try.

There's so much to learn with all this new technology. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by it and just give up. But I would like to have my books out there a little more, or again, whatever. And when I read a book I really love, I like to share that information, as well. I've reviewed some books for Amazon, so I thought, why not. I guess if I get this down, maybe I'll look into getting some of my books on Kindle.

At any rate, here goes with that. It's worth a try.

Onward ....

Still Reading ....

My friend's novel in manuscript, it's got so much to do with me, as much to do with me as with him I'm sure. There are some really profound things in it, things that stop me. Here's one: "I came to understand that novelists are strictly observers. At first I struggled against it, agonized over it. And then ... I accepted it. I'm fascinated by life, just not terribly involved in it."

Well --- wow!

That's how I used to feel. Not anymore. I'm completely involved in it, 100%. Not just observing anymore but actively participating. I've said before that I lived vicariously through my characters because they lived much more interesting lives than I did, loved more, grieved more, felt more. They were a substitute for the real thing. Now, I have the real thing. And maybe that's why the fire in the belly is gone. I no longer need the substitutions.

It's not that it isn't something I haven't already figured out, it's just that my friend put it so succinctly. And there's more. No wonder I'm loving this book, can hardly put it down. It's terribly disturbing to me that it hasn't been able to find a home. Has the reading public become so shallow?

My SO dispatched the damned armadillo that's been wrecking havoc on the yard. It's not in my nature to feel gleeful when any creature dies, but this one had done so much damage and spoiled so much hard labor, I quickly buried any pang of regret I felt about its demise. Good riddance! That's one thing about living in the country. You have to make decisions, life or death ones, play God.

Onward ....

Other Writer's Work

A friend of mine asked me to read a manuscript he is having trouble selling. I got it FedEx on Saturday but didn't start reading it until today. I'm enjoying it, it's good work, but it's really making me want to work on my novel now. And I find myself in a funk this evening about it. It's just so hard to set everything else aside, and I don't know why. I used to not have this trouble. Anyway ....

Had a massage this morning -- very mediocre, but more tales for my article on getting massages, finding a good therapist. This one definitely was not good and I won't be going back there. Tonight my muscles are all tight and I got in the jacuzzi. Pretty sorry excuse for a jacuzzi, too. I had such a good one in my transition house. This one just cannot compare. Of course, it's also twenty years older, and was built for people who are flat as boards. The jets, I am not kidding, are no more than 3 inches off the bottom of the tub. Plus there are only four of them. You have to contort to get the achy parts under the stream of water. It just is hardly worth it. But it's wet outside, drizzly, has been that way for three days now, and the hot tub needs draining. The last time we got in it, it was like sitting in milk.

So I'm in a sort of pissy mood and can't seem to bring myself out of it. Really wish we could go back to the mountains. I just hate that we have to wait for two whole months. Sigh!

Onward .....

A Place in the Mountains

It's like a dream come true -- especially for my SO. We just spent two idyllic weeks in our new place. No internet, which is why there have been no new posts here. As much trouble, and as stressful as it was to get the place, it all seems worth it now.

I got up there the day before closing. The trip was fairly painless. The cat did well in the motel rooms, although he was freaked out the first night and stayed mainly under the bed. The second night was better, and by the time he stayed in his third motel room on our way home this week, he was an old hand at it. He's getting the hang of traveling with us, and taking him everywhere with us is less and less trouble. The dog, of course, is a breeze. She's traveled more than me, probably.

Anyway, the closing did not go as smoothly as hoped. There was a form HUD required, and then had to approve, which they did not do on the date of closing. The seller let us have possession of the house anyway, so we moved in on Friday. A lot of the things that were supposed to have been left in the house had been cleaned out by a home helper of the old woman who sold us the place -- two ladders, a leaf blower, a shelving unit, and a wheelbarrow being the main items. The lady's real estate agent caught the thief and her relatives taking the wooden deck furniture and managed to stop that from leaving, but the rest of it was gone for good. My SO was really angry about the ladders and leaf blower, but nothing could be done short of the seller filing criminal charges which she was unwilling to do. We were given compensation in the form of a check so we could replace the lost items, and we did so a few days later.

On Monday, while we were in town opening an account at a local bank, my cell rang. It was our real estate agent telling us that HUD required more escrow money before they would finally close the deal on the house. So, since we were at the bank, I got yet another cashier's check (we both hemorrhaged money while we were there) and we raced to the title company. Once that was done, and another paper signed, the house was finally ours. We could relax and enjoy it, which we did with a bottle of champagne and pot pies from the restaurant down the road. We were a little delirious with happiness.

Anyway, it's just gorgeous up there. I was able to get the satellite working for the TV but we only get the cable channels, so it really was a little like being separated from the world without news or weather. If we wanted a weather report we just walked out on the deck to see what the temperature was at the moment. Cold at night, and beautiful sunshine during the day. It got down in the 20s several times while we were there. We listened to the World Series on the radio. Felt like the old days doing that. You have to actually use your imagination to visualize the games.

We're at 7500 feet there, and I do have a bit of trouble with shortness of breath. I took the dog on daily walks and was proud that I could make it up the mountain. Of course, she dragged me, looking back, wondering why I was so slow. Sometimes I wanted to yell MUSH MUSH at her. She was so exuberant about our walks and I could almost feel the pounds melting off of me. By the end of two weeks, my jeans were loose. I took one pair off without unzipping, which pleased me. Wish there was a place around home as conducive to evening walks.

The morning we left, snow had dusted the mountains around us. There are two really high mountains that surround our valley: Elk Mountain at 11,627 and Hermit's Peak at 10,259. We can see Elk Mountain from the kitchen window. Through the trees it usually looks dark blue or purple. That morning it was ashy white. The air had the feel of impending snow, and since we've been back in Texas, we've learned that it has snowed throughout the valley now. I hate that we missed it. First snow, November 9th. Everybody we talked to told us it has been warmer than normal this year.

Last night we sat outside and both of us are already missing the new place. We love it here, too, of course, but it cannot compare in beautiful surroundings to our mountain house. What would be the perfect setup would be to have this house up there. Impossible, of course. It's like being in love with two men who are polar opposites.

Now, I just have to get ready for the holidays. My my, they sure did come around again quick.

Onward ....

Final Commitment

What a week this is going to be! It started right off crazy busy with my cousins coming for lunch on the same day my SO left for NM. I will follow him later this week. I had a dentist appointment yesterday that was made clear back in January, and my dentist happens to be in Austin. So I got in a half-packed car and flew up there and back yesterday, stopping only long enough to run into PetSmart and Penney's. When I got back home, at 6:30 in the evening, there was an email with the subject header of FINAL COMMITMENT. Sounds so ominous. But what it means, in a nutshell, is WE GOT THE HOUSE!
It's been so nerve wracking, seeing that email was a little anti-climatic. But now I feel comfortable enough to tell the world.

Today I have to finish packing the car, go to the bank to ease the wire transfer along, the post office, and then to a doctor's appointment this afternoon that I have also had since last October. I'm so scattered, I've been making lists all over the place, then misplacing those. I've already misplaced the gate opener. I really miss my sweetheart and my dog. And today! Today, is the 3-year anniversary of our first date. It seems so much longer ago than that, and now we've made this FINAL COMMITMENT on a house in the mountains.

People who know seem excited for us. All except for Daddy that is. I think he's depressed about the whole idea of us being gone even more than we are already. And as I've stated here before, Daddy is a big dilemma. I think that he's beginning to get really feeble, and he's depressed about it, maybe thinks I should be tending to him on a daily basis. Some women would be doing that, I know a few who would, but I'm not that sort of woman. As selfish as it seems, I feel I have already given up a huge portion of my life for others, have basically put my life on hold for most of the last 40 years, and I'm just not willing to continue pushing the hold button. I don't know how many more years are left. At my age, my mother had just 7 years left. I wonder if she had known that when she was 57, what all would she have done differently. I feel, have always felt, that she died completely unfulfilled. And the other truth is, Daddy has had choices in all of this, too. It's his choice to live so isolated, so cut off from all the people since Mother died who reached out to him and tried to have a relationship with him. He rejected everybody, didn't want to have to make the effort to have a social life, and now he is so alone. But it was a decision he made all by himself, despite everyone's efforts.

And that brings me to another thought -- that we so often do these things to ourselves -- by making poor choices, for all sorts of different reasons. This house in the mountains, this man I am in love with, the way we live, things we do, I feel I am fully engaged in all of these things. I no longer feel when I wake up in the morning that I'm going through the motions, like some automaton. That's not to say all those earlier years were bad ones, they certainly were not. I have many many good memories, and I feel great fondness and love for my ex. It had a bad ending, but lots of stories do, that's just life. But I made choice that were not always good for me, I feel that so much of that time was spent just half-living, waiting for some mysterious better day that would come later, and those are mistakes I'm trying not to repeat now.

It's risky, buying this house. The economy is still struggling, especially the real estate market. Of course, that shakiness is what made buying this place nearly irresistible. We paid way under the tax appraisal, and way under the market value in the area. The house needs lots of work, and I'm going to have to control this impatient urge I have to get it perfect right NOW! But if some things should go south financially, for either one of us, it would be hard to sell either of these two houses quickly if we had to do that. We have made the difficult decision to put the place at the Coast up for sale right after the New Year. We've had so many good times down there, memorable times, but we're in a different place now, and this last year we haven't gone down there enough, or enjoyed ourselves there as much, so it's time to let it go.

And now I need to get back to my crazy busy day, so I can be ready to join my SO later this week to close on our house. I'll post a picture of it when we have the hot key in our hands. Things can, as I well know, always go wrong, so I'll reserve pictures for later.

Onward ....

Learning to Dance in the Rain

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

(Saw that line on a wall hanging. I really want one like it, because the sentiment strikes me.) 

All of us have had tragedy in our life, if you live long enough, you cannot avoid it. At the least, almost everybody has lost a loved one, which is an unavoidable tragic fact of life. Everybody has faced some sort of adversity. We have the choice of letting these things lay us low, or of standing to face these things with determination, optimism, and a dash of humor. 

Most people take themselves way too seriously. I’m guilty of that myself sometimes. I tend to get caught up in my own problems, tensions, matters of the heart, and forget that the troubles I face are troubles that some people would give their arm to have. I don’t face illness, poverty, living in a war torn region, or enslavement. I’m one of the lucky ones.

The greatest tragedy of my life, or anyway, my greatest disappointment, is my relationship with my youngest son, or lack thereof. I can and do dwell on it sometimes, tearfully and with an aching heart. But I also realize that it isn’t something I can change. He has made the choice to live in isolation from his family and from those who love him. I can only hope that one day he will chose to rejoin. I do keep up with him, through other people, as best I can. But I don’t know what goes on in his head and I so much regret our distance. My most sincere hope is that he finds peace, but I worry that he never will. 

My mother was an unhappy person. She suffered all her life with bouts of depression and melancholy. She always felt beleaguered by the world. I think there’s a strain of this kind of personality in my family. I don’t know if Mother ever found peace. I suspect that she did not. She never wanted to face her demons, or to accept responsibility for her own happiness. It must’ve been hard for her -- the life she chose. But she was the type who would never have sought help, and even if she had, she would have argued for the status quo. 

I think so many people have difficulty accepting the fact that life is hard. In the time of cavemen, it was finding food, shelter, a mate, those were the hard things. In reality, those same things drive us now, and sometimes make life seem unfriendly. We hate our jobs, we struggle to make the mortgage, we have tribulations with loved ones. It is so easy to let those necessities of life overwhelm us and sour us, to keep us from seeing the little joys around us.

The sky is lightening outside the windows as I write this. Fog sits heavy on the ground, Trees are starting to turn yellow, a few leaves beginning to fall. Yesterday evening, as we sat out with the pets, we noticed birds are migrating through. Suddenly, white-wing doves are arriving in flocks. A couple of hummingbird stragglers stopped at the feeders, although most have already come and gone. Two cedar waxwings lit on the barn roof. And the moon, as it rose, was just a shade shy of full. 

I don’t remember how city folk unwind, it’s been so long since I lived in a big city. But I do know that there are ways, maybe with friends, sharing a meal, laughter, a good book. I garden. I embroidery. I read. I play with my animals. I cook. I sit in my SO’s embrace -- or maybe just watch the sunset, quietly. It’s the little things that make life worthwhile.

Onward ....

Raspberry Pie, Manuscript Submissions, & a Hot-Tubbing Frog

Made a pie with the raspberries we brought home from New Mexico. They had been in the freezer, and I just thought they needed to be used. The pie is so-so. It thickened up just fine, but the raspberries have an odd flavor to me, almost molasses-like. I think it might be why most of the recipes I looked up used raspberries along with something else, like pears, rhubarb, other berries, cherries. They aren't really a stand-alone fruit in a pie, I guess. It is certainly not horrible, and my SO as been eating it with ice cream and whipped cream and seems to really enjoy it. But then, frankly, he's a sweet freak and would probably like anything with sugar in it. Wish I could eat all that stuff and not get fat, but it's just not in my DNA, I guess.

In the hot tub last night, we found a frog. When we lifted the lid, there floating on the absorber, which is a piece of foam rubber shaped like a smiley face, was a tree frog about an inch long. No telling how long he had been there under the cover, but my SO really got a laugh out of it, said he looked like the frog was hot-tubbing, but I'm sure he got trapped under there and the absorber was his life raft. Anyway, my SO fished him out and put him in the oak tree beside the patio.

Have done no more work on the novel, but I did finally get fed up waiting for the publisher where I had submitted the children's book last spring. I write them a letter withdrawing the submission, and at the same time, made four copies of the manuscript and cover letter, and sent it to four places at once. Hell with it. In another week or so, I plan to send out four more. I'm tired of this "exclusive listing" stuff. Odds are only one would take it anyway, in the best of circumstances. It's pretty much the same thing I did when I sold LILY. I think in some ways I've just become too timid or complacent. That fire-in-the- belly-thing again.

Meanwhile, we're still waiting to hear on the New Mexico house. What a huge hassle this whole thing has been. We feel like we're in purgatory.

Onward ....

Riding the Roller Coaster

Every day there is a new battle, a new goal achieved, and then another set-back with this house deal in New Mexico. I have decided that it's the banking industry that is causing the slow recovery to the economy right now. And it was the banking industry that caused the recession in the first place, giving their liar loans and predatory lending practices. I have a very high credit score, almost no debt, a good salary, and a history with this mortgage company, and still they require me to jump through so many hoops it's beginning to seem like it's just not worth it anymore.

This morning I received an email from my loan officer telling me that the underwriters are requiring more tax information, a termite inspection, an addendum to the original contract exempting the personal property items that come with the house (i.e. furnishings). I've already had to go too many rounds with the seller over various repairs and price negotiation. Now the appraisal comes back valuing the house for more than I'm paying, and I just don't know how many more hoops the seller will be willing to jump through either. It's to the point where the only people who can really buy a house right now are the ones who can pay cash, and how many of those people are out there, after the stock market tanked, after the devaluation of real estate, after everything?

They advertise these low low interest rates, and then you find out that they're only that low IF you are putting up a huge down payment, like half, and financing for just 10 years, or less. So I have decided that the banks are the culprits in this economy that is NOT recovering, and since big banking equals big business. And Big Business equals the Republican Party, I think it could be a conspiracy to keep the economy bad at least through this election cycle, but maybe even beyond this one to the next one, when they can get another one of their cronies into office. I've never been a conspiracy theorist, but I'm starting to become one.

And so the roller coaster continues. Yesterday my SO got a sort of promotion. Today more hoops arrive. Or loopy-de-loops to keep with the roller coaster theme. Now, I guess I have to decide if I want to keep jumping. I will say this, I'm certainly glad I don't have a house for sale right now. Trying to buy one is hard enough.

Onward ....

Hurricane Memories

I'm reading ISAAC'S STORM by Eric Larson -- a bit overwritten, but still I can't put it down. And while reading it memories of my own hurricane story keep creeping into my mind. Mine was not the Great Galveston Hurricane of 1900, the one this book is focused on, but a much smaller one that came into Corpus Christi in 1970. If you've ever experienced a hurricane, then that will be your storm, and it will be the one that makes the big impression on you.

I was 17 years old, still in high school. My brother was in the Army, stationed in Germany, and I was writing him a letter, sitting at the kitchen table, while Mother was putting together some snacks. Daddy had been watching the weather on television since before daylight. I remember so well getting up to the sound of the weathermen. We were not in the habit of turning on the television first thing in the morning like so many people do today. The weathermen were predicting that the storm would turn northwards and head to Galveston, but Daddy insisted that it was coming into Corpus. He kept insisting this because our barometric pressure was dropping.

Mother was nonplussed by his predictions. Excited by the dust-colored sky outside, by the rain that kept falling intermittently, by the wind whooshing up our breezeway, she was determined to make this fun. She had been preparing dips all morning, and had chips out in a bowl. She wished she had thought to invite friends over for cards. She had the dominoes out.

In the middle of this, Mom making snacks and me writing my letter to my brother, the lights went out. No big deal. It was mid-day. We could certainly still see, even though the sky was heavy and dark. Daddy got out his long, patrolman's flashlight. He'd already put in new batteries. Mother went for candles, and matches. We didn't light them, but put them around in handy places, just in case. We'd been through hurricanes before. The lights could stay off for hours. Sometimes even for a few days.

The phone rang. It was my aunt and uncle who lived about two miles from us. Mother talked animatedly to them about the lights going out, about the dark sky, the wind, the rain. Thunder cracked. Lightning lit the room. And then a loud BANG! shook the house. Mother hung up the phone, said "What was that?" I abandoned the letter I had still been trying to write and followed my parents to the front door, which was the direction the bang had come from. Daddy thought maybe a tree had fallen against the door. He opened it, and the wind nearly took the door off its hinges, and him with it. Mother and I both had to help him get back inside the house, and pull the door closed. Once he was safely back in the foyer, we all looked at each other, a little frightened now.

Daddy started up the stairs, and Mother and I stayed close behind him. The narrow upstairs hall was dark. The flashlight beam was our only light. The trap door to the attic was flapping loose in its hole, as if the wind were about to fly off with it. Using his long flashlight like a rod, Daddy pushed at the attic trap, raising it a couple of inches. And we saw the sky.

"Oh, my God," Mother said.

"Our roof's gone," Daddy said. "We better get back downstairs."

But we were too excited, too caught up in the scary circumstances, and it wasn't really registering yet how dire the situation. Mother ran to their bedroom. I went behind her. The ceiling in that room was breathing up and down, ready to cave in at any moment. She raced to the closet for the photo albums. I ran back to my room, peered out the window through the crosshatch of masking tape we had put on to keep the windows from breaking. Roof material lay scattered all over the front lawn. I grabbed my makeup. MY MAKEUP! Not my high school annuals. Not the diamond earrings I had just gotten on my 17th birthday. My makeup. Well, I was just 17. A shallow teenager. What can I say?

The three of us went down to the laundry room (the only one-story part of the house) to sit on the machines and watch the storm take down our home. It was my mother's dream house. She had sat with an architect for hours three years before, planning out the rooms, the direction the doors would open, the placement of light switches and electric plugs. It must've been devastating to her to see the boards lying on the driveway out the taped-up laundry room window. We watched heavy roofing beams turn a complete 360-degrees as the eye of the storm came by us. A time or two I had to hurry in to the little bathroom off the kitchen. Rain poured through the downstairs ceiling by then, as if the whole house was being absorbed by the storm. My letter to my brother was a soggy, smeared, undecipherable glob of paper on the table, beside the dip and chip bowls overflowing with Sheetrock-infused rain water.

That storm changed all of our lives. Profoundly. The plant where my dad worked was damaged in the millions of dollars. Eventually, he was transferred to a newly acquired plant in Mississippi. My old boyfriend, whom I hadn't seen in months -- indeed he had broken up with me when he got drafted by a major league's Triple-A baseball team and moved to Florida -- came home to check on his family. He and I had an intense, emotional reunion that resulted in a shotgun wedding a few months later. And eventually, when that teenage marriage failed, I joined my parents in Mississippi along with my newborn son. I attended university there and met the man who would become my second husband. I have always said that I got my eldest son out of that hurricane, or the aftermath of it anyway. So good can come out of catastrophe, though it doesn't usually seem so at the time.

Onward ....

New Floors and Dad's Birthday

Floor men here today, for the second time. Hopefully they will finish with everything. They came last Thursday but didn't finish, said they would come back on Friday but never showed. It's been our experience that contractors are bad about not doing what they say they will do. Don't know why that is, but the only reliable people we've used are the driveway crew and our plumber, who is exorbitant with his charges, but always comes when he says he will. So, I guess that's what we pay for -- reliability. This will be the last time I use this contracting company. But then it seems that if you hold a company up to too high of a standard, well, after a while, you run out of places to call. Especially around here where we are limited in construction companies anyway. It's one of the drawbacks to living in a rural area.

On anther note -- it certainly has gotten hard to buy a house in the last two years. We still don't have a definite on the New Mexico place. I'm waiting on the inspection report, have only had a verbal report, and would like to see the pictures and written document before we make a decision about what to ask the seller to do before closing. I've informed our real estate agent that we might be asking for some repairs, and it seems that the seller and her agent have put a hold on everything, will not even order the survey until she sees what we're going to ask her for in the way of repairs. It's supposed to be such a buyer's market, and yet it seems to me that between the lending institutions and the hoops that a buyer has to jump through, it's just not an easy thing to buy right now. There's a big difference between now and when we bought this house, the one we live in now, in the summer of 2008. I think part of the problem is the NM house hasn't been on the market long enough. If she had been trying to offload for a year or two, then maybe she would be more willing to go the distance to sell the place.

In the meantime, we celebrated Daddy's 86th birthday on Friday. He came here for a steak cookout. I made a spice cake, which turned out pretty good. Daddy is so limited in food he can eat, between his diverticulitis and kidney disease, most sweets are off his list of acceptable food - nothing with nuts, nothing with seeds, nothing high in potassium. I think he had a good birthday, but he seemed a little odd to me, depressed maybe, or like he wasn't feeling as good as he pretended. I told him about the house in NM, showed him pictures. Maybe that was what got him down. Don't know.

And through all this house business, birthdays, new flooring, I feel the novel slipping through my fingers again. I try not to dwell on it. This is just more of the sort of thing I've been battling for the last ten years. I guess I'm just not willing to give up my life for the work anymore. Time just seems so short.

Onward ....

House Stuff

House stuff is still pretty much dominating my world right now. Yesterday, I sent in the final paperwork on the New Mexico house, and also had a phone report from the inspector. We both really wish we had been able to be there while the inspector was there, but that just wasn't possible -- us being 17 hours away. He was a nice man, seemed awfully thorough, left both of us wondering how much of these repairs we should ask the seller to do before our closing. We drank some wine and went to bed. I think both of us needed the wine just to clear out the whirl in our heads.

Now, this morning floor installers are coming here to put in new flooring in the foyer, the master bathroom, and the guest bath. These were things I had lined out before we left on the trip to NM. I'm sort of wishing I had waited, but who knew we would find a place there we wanted to buy? The floors in this house have been the biggest bane to me anyway. The woman who lived here when it was built had hideous taste -- or maybe it was the man. I shouldn't assume anything. But everything in the house was pink, right down to the toilets, tubs, and shower stall. That's the only thing about buying someone else's house and trying to make it your own. We have slowly, over the last two years, tried to undo all the "pinkness." That's what this latest project has been about. Especially in the master bathroom.

We had a leak. Some of the Sheetrock was affected. I scrubbed the shower stall, replaced the caulking, and that seemed to take care of the leak. Then I had a new shower door installed, a clear one that might end up being a pain to keep clean, but it certainly looks nicer. The old one was improperly installed to begin with and had become lime-spotted and scaled. While we were gone on the trip, Daddy came over and fixed the broken Sheetrock. I noticed it after we were home. He hadn't said anything. He did a great job, now it just needs paint. Also, at some point, I suspect the last people who owned this house, replaced the original toilet seat with a white one, which makes the toilet look even worse, having a rose pink base and that ugly white lid. So before we left for NM, I had ordered a new, matching toilet seat in wild Irish rose -- that's the color of the pink toilet. But it will look much better once we put it on -- something we will do this evening after the new floor has been installed. We had a new light fixture put in when we moved here, so after today, that bathroom will be completely updated, or anyway, as much as I'm willing to update it at this point. I really should be using the jacuzzi in there more often, if for no other reason than to keep it running.

Aahhhh! Big breath. What I really want to be doing is working on the house in NM. Our closing date can't come soon enough for either of us. It's like being in limbo. One thing, though, we are having very nice weather in Texas. Cool mornings, low humidity. It's been Fall-ish all week. I went out late yesterday evening and sprayed Round-up up and down the driveway. Because of all the rain, little weed shoots were starting to come up through the new gravel. I also sprayed down the garden area, which my SO had already mowed earlier this week. I used 3 gallons of the herbicide and could've used 3 more. My back and shoulders were aching form lugging around the backpack sprayer, so I got a rub-down last night -- much needed. He's actually quite good at that. I told him he might have missed his calling. I also put out a ton of fire ant bait. They have taken over, and it's hard to do much outside without running into a few. They make big blisters on me!

Mosquitoes are horrible out there right now, too. Ten inches of rain will do that. I've gone around emptying any vessel holding stale water -- sorry birds, but your baths will have to happen elsewhere -- but I can't do anything about the stock tank across the fence. It's full -- the fullest I've seen it since we've lived here. I enjoy working outside, but only when I don't have other things pressing me, which I have had all week. Then it become drudgery. And let's face it, neither of us is getting younger. The time will come, and very soon, when the upkeep on this place will be more work than we want to do. We're almost there already.

And yet, I do still love it here. We are nicely isolated, in our own little enclave, but for some reason, I don't seem to get any writing work done here. I think there are too many things to distract me from it, and I do suddenly want to write again. I guess just that should be a good thing, I haven't felt that way in such a long time. I simply have to find a way to work it in. What  I need are a few 36-hour days.

Onward ....

Luck, and Finding a Place in the Mountains

Guess my last post was pretty cryptic, and I've been too busy since we've been home to explain. Lots of phoning, researching of bank rates, etc. Well, here it is: we've bought a house in the mountains. I suppose it's safe to say that in the past tense. We made an offer before we left NE New Mexico, the owner countered our offer once we were home, and we accepted the counter, have our financing lined out, and we're just waiting now for the loan to be processed. It's all gone so smoothly that I'm reeling.

When we left on this trip back before Labor Day, we knew once the trade show in Denver was over, that we would be going back to the area we stayed in last July. We made an offer on a house back then, a sort of impulsive, what-a-great-deal kind of offer, that left both of us nervous and testy. Nevertheless, I was heartbroken when that deal fell through, more so than I wanted to admit at the time. The owners were really not ready to part with their vacation home, and we really were not ready to commit ourselves to buying just yet. The time between then and now served us well. We have pored over listings on the Internet, subscribed to a local newspaper, and just generally familiarized ourselves with that part of New Mexico. By the time we got there this trip, and set up the trailer in the same RV park we stayed in with our friends in July, we had a game plan lined out. We spent five days looking at real estate. We saw eleven houses/cabins, some that had appealed to us online, others that were new. We met with three different real estate agents. We kept going back to a little house we had seen on the first day.

It was the second house we looked at on the first day we were there. It's in the same development as the house we made the offer on in July. It doesn't have the view we wanted. It is much older, built in 1966, and out of date. But it has possibilities. It has a forest of trees around it. It has over an acre of land that go with it. It has a terrific deck and a high beamed ceiling, a fireplace, and two baths. Best of all, we can afford it. We took lots of pictures.

After we got home, I spent the first few days doing nothing but contacting lenders, insurance providers, taxing entities, and then fielded telephone calls that came back from all of them. In the end, I went with my old lender but found a new insurance company. I may change the insurance on the Texas house eventually, too. I've never been convinced I was getting the best rates here anyway. My SO basically left all the "high-finance" to me. Now and then, he would put in a comment, but he feels I'm better at negotiating than he is, and oddly, after years of deferring this job, I find that he's right. I am good at it. No one is more surprised by that than me.

So now we're in the waiting stage. We will go back to New Mexico to close on the house on October 29. I have promised to try to keep from going berserk with excitement, to reign in my desire to shout it to the world, a promise I'm sort of breaking right here, but who reads this thing anyway? I have told my son and my aunt, but not some of the other people who are important to us, like Daddy for one, or my SO's son and daughter-in-law. They have their own preoccupations at the moment, being transferred to NYC, selling their house, relocating to such a different kind of life than they have lead up to now. I'm dreading what Daddy will say. He is pretty dependent on me at this time in his life, but we're not planning to go live there just yet, or even to stay there more than a few weeks at a time right now. I hope he'll be happy for us.

OK, here's the thing: I'm lucky. I suppose that's the whole point of this blog today. I feel lucky. I've always felt lucky. Don't get me wrong, I have had some bad things happen to me in my life, even some tragedies, but I've always managed to bounce back, or my luck has always bounced back. What is luck anyway? It's really not winning at the blackjack table. It's not stumbling on a pot of gold. It's not stumbling on anything really. I think it's more about optimism, believing that a thing is possible, and recognizing the gems that life scatters along your pathway. I got a good start by being born in a great country, into a family that, no matter how imperfect, loved me. I've been blessed with good health, reasonable good looks and intelligence. But I've also always been able to -- finally -- look on the bright side. I choose to be happy. I believe that we make our own luck, our own happiness. It's a decision, luck is. And happiness.

Now, I feel compelled to mention that I am still working on the novel. It's been a little hard to quiet my mind enough to focus, but it helps that I'm home now and back with all my notes, research, chapter cuts, and the rest. I'm glad I don't throw things out like some of my writer friends do. A lot of this novel is done, nearly all of it, in fact. It just needs to be pieced together -- like making a quilt. I've always contended that writing a novel has more to do with architecture.

Onward ....

Jiggity Jig

Home again, home again.

We're in San Angelo, which has become a regular stop-off on our RV trips. In about an hour we will get back in the Suburban and make the long trek home. We've been gone this time for 17 days, and I think all of us are ready for things to get back to normal. It's been an eventful trip and I will blog more about it once I have more time.

The cat has become a good traveler. He has hardly squawked in the car, and once we're settled in a park, he's been much quicker to adjust and come out from behind the sofa. We do still have to stuff a pillow in there on mornings we're going to get on the road, so he won't go behind there and stay. Breaking camp noises, or if we june around too much in the mornings, he will get back there to feel secure. Now, I've learned to push in the pillow to block his hole, and set the carrier out and open. He will go in there on his own when the hitching up sounds start.

The dog is also ready to be home. She laid on the console nearly the whole way here yesterday -- a sign that she's restless and bored. I'm saddle sore myself. Back aching and just generally stiff from all the long hours in the car. But we did have two stops this trip that lasted for over 5 days each. One was work for my SO, the other was for grins -- which is the part I will fill in once we're home.

So that's it for now. I've got pictures. I've got news. I've got lots of observations.

Onward ....

Writing on the Road, and Leaving Colorado

A good thing that has happened on this trip is I've discovered I really can work on the road. I had a really good writing day on Saturday, felt myself melting back into the story, and it reminded me about the wonderful part of writing, when it takes hold of you and you lose track of everything else around you. I'm now sort of thinking that the idea of leaving home, leaving the phone interruptions, the plants that need watering, the floors that need vacuuming, the meals that need preparing, has been helpful in an odd way, at least as far as focus is concerned. And this after all these years of thinking I had to be at home, had to have my desk, my files, my surroundings.

That said, I will admit I have some things at home I wish I had brought here with me, or I wish at least, that I had taken the time to take a better inventory before I left. Now, that I've finished reading what is actually in the manuscript, I'm seeing more clearly things that should be there but aren't, and in several cases, these things are parts and pieces, and whole chapters, that were cut out and should go back in. Writing is such a process, so much more than most people who have never written understand. I was telling my SO yesterday that my last two books took an entire case of 24 reams of paper, with all the rewriting that I do. I am admittedly a compulsive re-writer, but for me, it's what works. Someone said recently that anybody can act, but only a few can act well. I think the same can be said of writers. Anybody can write, but only a few can write well. I want to be part of the few, and for me that means many MANY rewrites.

We are just about done with Colorado. Yippee! Strange to me that so many people I know hold Colorado in such high regard. I admit that some of the mountain places are lovely, but this part where everybody lives, the Denver area, to me is just as bad as Houston. The air is bad. The traffic is hideous. The roads are in deplorable condition. The mountains, the Front Range, as they call them, have been defaced by microwave towers and other distractions. I don't find the people to be especially friendly. And I also don't consider their so-called artsy, liberal, creative attractions to be authentic like it is, say, in New York. At least the people in New Mexico are honest in their tunnel vision. I'm not sure that makes perfect sense, but to me there is just something phony about this whole area, and I guess it's the authenticity that I miss whenever I'm here. So I'm happy to be saying goodbye to it until January.

Onward .... (and not soon enough!)

Dreaming of a Cabin in the Mountains

The home search continues. We have appointments next week with two real estate agents to look at some of these places we've found online, plus anything they might think would interest us. We've widened our search into three counties now. Might not be copacetic to use two different agents, but what the hell. We're impatient and want to throw out the widest net possible. One of the agents is the one who had the listing we made the offer on -- the one the seller backed out on. I have contacted the seller myself and know that they are still thinking about relisting, but in the meantime, we might just find something we like as well or better. Fingers crossed.

We have had an interesting week getting to Colorado. The cat has traveled exceptionally well this time, and both animals are getting along together in tight confines quite well, too. I wish this travel trailer was larger, but then we would need a bigger towing vehicle, yada yada, and that all seems like money we don't need to spend right now when we're looking to buy a summer house. I have an idea we won't be using the travel trailer all that much once we find our dream place anyway.

Both of us are up here just basically enduring the Market, willing it to be over quickly so we can get to New Mexico and start house searching. Every night after we're back from the show, we peruse through listings on the internet, marking down ones that seem interesting. We are still a bit apart on what we're each looking for in a place. My SO's taste is much simpler than mine is, and he is just generally more patient. He would prefer to buy a less expensive place with potential, and fix it the way we want it, which probably makes more sense. Me, I have a tendency to hold everything up to the house we made the offer on, and so far, nothing in our price range comes anywhere close to that house. I knew it was a fabulous deal at the time. Which is why I rushed to jump on it the way I did. And I guess I am still holding my breath a little for the possibility of the owners relisting it soon.

The RV Park we are in here is exceptional. We have a lighted mountain right behind us. The dog and I have climbed over the top of that mountain twice. The first time, I kept stopping, looking back at the fantastic view, and also catching my breath. The dog, of course, pulled me onward. She is such a little adventurer. Today we made the trek again, and both of us were worn out afterwards. She is snoring under the table as I write this -- snoring loudly. Sounds like bellows!

We both really do enjoy having these animals around us. I'm so happy to have found a kindred spirit in that regard. They give us lots of laughs, are both clowns, but loyal. The cat likes the fact that he gets to sleep with us when we're on these trips. The dog is joyful at having new sites, sounds, and smells. We have little cottontails living in this park, dozens of them, and she is just focused on finding them when we go on our walks. They're pretty fearless, being used to all the dogs these RVers have, and that is something I have come to realize -- RV travelers like taking their pets. In fact, it could be, like with us, one of the reasons they have taken to traveling via RVs. Anyway, the bunnies just sit quietly and watch all the dogs pass by, like they know the dogs are leashed and can't chase them far.

I'll try to post more while we're on this trip. It's hard to work it all in. I'm still trying to give the novel at least two hours a day, also helping my SO at the Market, tending to the animals, suppers, and keeping the trailer clean. My days on this trip just fly by.

Onward ....

On the Road -- AGAIN!

We went through the Capulin volcanic region today on our way to Raton where we had reservations at the KOA campground. The Capulin area is eerily beautiful, and you have the feeling the old dead volcanoes could speak to you. They have left remnants of their stories all over the valley and basin that surrounds them, in the form of lava rocks piles. Today a norther was blowing up dust and it hung like mist at the base of the mountains, adding to the surreal feeling of the place. New Mexico has an awful lot of intriguing geography. Not all of it is beautiful, but it's always interesting.

We're headed to Denver once again for my SO's market. He comes up here twice a year, and I know it has to get tiresome making the same trek year after year. I've just been coming with him for three years, and I'm already wishing they could move the show to some other place besides Denver. I've seen enough of Denver, between these markets and my times here with Women Writing the West, and promoting my own books, to last me a lifetime. But I'm not as enchanted with Colorado as a lot of people are, except for the mid-section, which isn't as populated. I tend to gravitate to the more sparsely populated places always.

We have the dog and the cat again, and they're both doing pretty well. The cat is getting to be a better traveler, although he get sort of catatonic in the car. For the first hour or so after we've set up camp, he hides behind the sofa, but then comes out to join the family. And he really loves sleeping in the bed with us.

Bought a new bed for the camper. Sure does sleep better. We've almost got this place decked out like a Cadillac. Cooked supper in it last night, and had everything I needed this time, unlike when we took it out in July. I'm learning. There sure are pluses to dragging your hotel room around with you. Also minuses, but I'll get into that in another post.

Two days without looking at the manuscript. Not good. I must learn to work on the fly.

Onward....

German Chocolate Cake for My Sweetheart

Made my SO the “famous German chocolate cake.” The quotations have actually been added by my son. This was the cake my oldest son always requested for his birthdays, and the younger son even asked for it a time or two himself. It’s a great old three-layer recipe, a lot of bother with lots of egg yolks and whites beaten stiff then folded in. The frosting is cooked and stirred until your arm aches. But the trouble is worth it in the end, because the eaters usually brag and gorge on it once it’s served. It was a hit with the group once again. Even the SO’s granddaughter, who is a finicky eater, gushed, “That is sooooo good.”

We’re celebrating my SO’s birthday. It really isn’t until the 30th, but his son and daughter-in-law, and granddaughter are here this weekend. Everybody has big news. The son has been offered a promotion, however it means a move to New York City. A big change for them from Austin, but it’s evident that they’re proud to have this opportunity. The granddaughter, who lives with them and goes to junior college, will also have to make some changes. Everybody expects her to move in with her boyfriend down on the coast, and go to school somewhere down there. I had a talk with her last night, and told her not to give up on her education, no matter how “in love” she thinks she is. I felt I could speak from experience and maybe she would listen because of that. Don’t know if it registered. She doesn’t seem as focused on her education as I think she should be, but that’s easy enough for me to say from my vantage point in life. 

But I do enjoy having them, especially her, almost as much as my SO does. In fact, it’s me who often ends up sitting late with them, telling stories and laughing after he's gone off to bed. We will miss them once they move away. Seems there is less and less keeping us in this hot climate. I sure wish I could stop obsessing about New Mexico. It's a really poor time with this real estate market to try to sell this house. We've done so much to it, and really ought to get top dollar when we are finally ready to make the dash for the mountains. Of course, because of that same lousy real estate market, places are really cheap, cheap up there. Sigh! 

Until yesterday, I have kept up the work on the novel, and will take it back up today once our company leaves. I’m still pleasantly surprised at what all is in the pages, things I had totally forgotten about, and lots of stuff I can build on. I have said before, and will say again, writing a novel for me has more to do with architecture than with form. I generally start with the characters, and maybe a situation, and a vague notion of the ending, but everything else is just as much of an unknown for me in the beginning as it is -- hopefully -- for a reader. I've been marking up pages and plan to take the whole manuscript with us when we head up to Denver.

Sat outside this morning in the quiet sunrise with just the kitty and watched the hummingbirds fight over the feeders. I have them spaced so far apart this time, that it really keeps the dominant males busy trying to fend off the other birds. They are such a joy to watch, and their little cheeps filled the air, along with a cardinal's song, and a hawk or two that passed over screeing. Nice way to start a day. I know when the day comes, it will be hard to part with this place. I do love it so much. But I also know that in time it will be more than we want to keep up, and the summers have become so brutal, it's hard to watch all our efforts through the rest of the year, dry up without any rain in the forecast.

Onward ....

High on Writing!

This is been a productive week. I have been working on the endless novel. Actually, what I’ve done is printed it out and I have been rereading it. Every day this week, from just after noon until four, I’ve tucked myself away and have thrown myself at the manuscript. It’s been more than three years since I’ve looked at it, and this is my perception so far: 1) It’s pretty darn good. 2) I need a villain. 3) The main character is not as in-focus as the secondary characters. 4) I’m surprised at how much work I had already done, well over 300 pages. And 5) What do you know -- I can write! 

I don’t know what I was expecting, but after the first day, I was really high about it all. Guess I was afraid if I sat down to read it, I would find it was trite and unorganized, or that I would see all the holes in it. But there aren’t many, and I’m delighted to find it’s not at all bad, and can probably be finished in short order if I just put my mind to it, and continue to work faithfully on it. Of course, once it’s done there’s no guarantee anyone will want to publish it, but that’s something I’ll worry about later.

In addition to reading the novel, I’ve also done some other things for my “writing career.” After a few back and forth emails with another writer-friend, I got online and researched getting the two books I have the rights on formatted for electronic readers like Kindle. Since neither one of these books is in digital form, it’s not an easy matter. They would have to be scanned and then converted, so I researched some places where that can be done. It isn’t dirt cheap to do, but I sent an email to one of the places inquiring about total cost. Haven’t heard back yet.

There’s something that bothers me about all this, though. Shouldn’t they be paying me, instead of the other way around? I’ve been paid for every other subsidiary right that was  sold on any of my books. There’s something about this that smells of vanity publishing, and it just isn’t going down my gullet well. I would like to get the books back in print, or circulation, of course, but do I want to do it THIS way? I can’t make up my mind.

I also found my old agent-friend on Facebook. He was once in hot pursuit of me, read the endless novel in an earlier draft, and also a YA I have a few chapters of written. I sent him a little message, just asking if he was still in the business. Might not be the right way to approach this, and I’m so anti-agent right now after my last one, but I figured I have nothing to lose at this point. Another writer friend of mine makes a trip to New York to interview agents when he finds himself without one. I think he’s probably got the right idea about the whole thing. But I’ve never had quite that much self-confidence. Probably that’s the reason I ended up with a crappy agent the last time. There’s just so much ego tied up with this whole business of writing, and I would really like to learn to separate that part. I imagine this is something all writers struggle with, though.

On the home front, my SO’s birthday is coming on the 30th. His son and daughter-in-law will be here this weekend to help us celebrate. I’ve been trying to decide what cake to bake. Probably a German Chocolate. I used to do those pretty well. Don’t know about dinner. I have a special gift to give him, and I’m trying to decide if I should give it while the kids are here, or wait until his actual birthday on Monday. I had a flag flown over the United States Capitol in honor of his father. It was flown on July 6th, and a certificate came from our Congressman with all this stated. Now, that I’ve done it, I’m not sure it’s such a great gift, and will probably find some other something to give on Saturday at any rate. 

Hummingbirds are trickling back. I have four feeders up and I hear them buzzing about when I venture outside, which I do very sparingly. It’s been over 100 degrees all week long! Will this summer never end?

Onward ....

Finding That Quiet Place

Yesterday, I read an article about a famous author, and in the interview he talked about finding that quiet place where you can work productively. It’s the same quiet place where your mind goes in order to read and comprehend something to its fullest. Writing is hard work. It takes a great effort to put down the thing that is in your head, and to have it come out anything resembling the dream you had when it was percolating. It occurs to me that it’s the quietness I have been avoiding. But I am almost ready to try to find it again. 

 I do realize that it’s going to take effort, that it isn’t something that’s going to just magically happen, that I have to make it happen. Creativity doesn’t just fall from the sky. A writer doesn’t simply channel her muse, although when it’s going well it sometimes feels that way. But to get it going well takes practice, and immersion, and getting quiet enough with yourself to hear yourself think. 

This part used to never take much work. I lived a lonely life, had plenty of time to listen to my thoughts, too much time, in fact. But man, was I productive. So it’s a tradeoff, and one that has been unappealing to me for quite a while now for a whole lot of reasons. But I have so much work upstairs to finish. So many things I don’t want to leave half-done. And I’m having spells of feeling unused and lazy, and it’s time to put what little talent I possess back to work. I may have waited too long, and in that case, I suppose I need to know. Maybe nobody wants to hear my stories anymore, or maybe I don’t have it in me to do it anymore. If either scenario is true,  it won’t be the end of the world. I’ve already accomplished far more than most people believed I ever would. 

So, beginning today, I’m going to take out some of these unfinished manuscripts, look at them with fresh eyes, and get back in practice. There’s lots of sorting and filing and arranging into some kind of order that needs to be done up there. And maybe, just maybe, the act of putting my office back together will spur something in me. Fingers crossed. 

Onward ....

Malaise, or Yearning for a Change of Scenery

Malaise: a general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify. 


In other words "in a funk." That's where I seem to find myself. I haven't even wanted to blog or felt I had anything to say, this blue funk has been so heavily upon me. It began with the house in New Mexico, putting in the offer first, then not getting accepted second. I was starting to kind of come out of it when we left for a long weekend in DC to see the boys. But while we were there, here came an email from the people who own the house, dangling the possibility that they would consider selling it after all. The man's health is bad. I think the woman really wants to sell but he thinks he might get better, and they adore the place. I understand their dilemma, but they got my hopes up all over again.

After we were back home, I decided to talk to the mortgage company who holds our house here, just to see what we would be talking about on a monthly basis for that house up there. Well, it was way more than I had hoped. We could put up a bigger down payment and get the monthly payment down, but I'm not enthusiastic about letting go of so much liquid cash. I told the loan officer to close down the deal. And anyway, the people with the house seemed to be waffling again. But now I find myself feeling the blues over all this again. Dammit!

There's the problem of Daddy with this whole idea of finding a place there. I really doubt I could go off and leave him with him at his age and in his health condition. Not that he's terrible. He really isn't at all. His mind is sound, which is a big thing, but arthritis and kidney disease often lay him low. His hearing is rapidly failing. He'll be 86 next birthday, and I really feel like we are the only social life he has, which is his own fault. He's not like my SO's mom, who stays active in garden club and church, keeps in touch with old friends and family. Daddy has almost purposely let go of all his old friends, has turned down efforts made by possible new friends, and just generally sits alone in his house with his dog, or sits out in the yard with his dog and a beer or two. The conundrum is that I feel obligated to him, and yes, resentful about it, too, I'll admit. I'm no spring chicken myself, and wonder how long I can keep "punching the hold button" as my SO puts it, on my own life. I feel that I've already wasted a lot of precious years, and don't relish wasting many more. Sigh!

So, I find myself with this malaise. Unhappy with circumstances. It's kind of a habit of mine. I need to let it go but it's not always easy. Life is short. I have so many things yet that I want to do. I think a change of scenery, permanently, would do me a world of good. I might even feel inspired to write again. Ya think?

Onward ....

Temporarily Dissatisfied-- Oh, It's This Heat!

Just ended another hot, hot weekend down at the Coast. It's become drudgery for me to even go down there. I don't know if it was those two weeks in the mountains or what, but suddenly I'm just longing for a cooler place to live in the summer. We've had such fun down at the Coast before -- what has caused all this dissatisfaction? It's not just me who is feeling this either. My SO is also longing for a mountain place, although I think we have different ideas about what we want there. His standards are lower than mine are at the moment, and I really do believe I need to lower mine as well. It's always been hard for me to settle for less.

And yet, I still really love our place here. It was such a relief to come home as it always is. Both animals also love it so much here. They were both visibly delighted when we walked in the door. I'm tempted to initiate conversation with my SO about selling the Coast place but I don't know what the reception to that will be. It was his before he met me, and I know he put a lot of time and effort into making it into what it is, but he also doesn't seem to get as much joy from it as before. It's been a year now since he had the boat out of the storage building.

However, that said, I wonder if this dissatisfaction we're both feeling isn't a temporary state, caused by heat stress, or whatever. Or wanderlust, maybe. We both have that. Once the temperatures come back to bearable, won't we just be happy here again and forget about going into debt on a new place? We have enough trouble trying to maintain this place and the Coast place as it is. Why add another "place" into the mix? Our so-called troubles could be so much worse. We have great life. Especially when you compare to things other people are dealing with.

Our good friends, the ones who joined us for the trip to New Mexico, have real trials, life-altering ones, that they're dealing with, and I have to always keep in mind how much worse things could be, and also how quickly basic situations can change. His health is deteriorating rapidly. I talked to her on the phone over the weekend, and the reason we haven't heard from them in a while is because he sank into such a deep depression she got worried and took him to the hospital. Apparently, he was feeling suicidal. They did some brain mapping, the results of which won't be in until tomorrow, and tweaked his anti-depressant meds little. She felt like he was doing better, but the stress she's under is taking its toll. I could hear it in her voice, and later that was confirmed by a mutual friend who ran into her at Subway, and reported that she looked frazzled and out of sorts. We're all worried about them, and have to keep their situation always in mind when we become dissatisfied with our own lives.

We're going to see my son and his partner this coming weekend. It's sneaked up on me a little too quickly. I have so many things to do before we leave, or before I can start getting excited. As always, I would be much more excited if we didn't have to FLY to get there. Just hate dealing with airlines nowadays. Hard to believe there was a time when I actually loved to fly, found it exciting and sophisticated. Simpler times, those.

Have to go with Daddy to the doctor this morning, and guess I should get my morning started.

Onward ....

Painting and Cold Watermelon

Painting is no fun. I forget that every time I start a refurbishment project. This is one I have been putting off for far too long. It's the bathroom out in the detached guest room. At some point, someone put up some of that particle board stuff instead of sheet rock for walls. It's a bitch to paint, as we found out when we first moved in. We painted the bedroom out there a green so pale it's nearly white. We went through a gallon of primer and two gallons of paint doing that room. The unfinished wall boards soak up paint like a sponge. After that ordeal, we decided against painting the ceiling, left it the natural color, and I intended then to move on the the bathroom at once. I had a stupid idea that I would wallpaper, but found with the first sheet, that the walls were far too rough and splintery and would have to be sanded or replaced or smooth board tacked over it before wall paper could be hung. I gave up. Right there. For two years.

After we got back from the mountains I decided this job needed tackling again. I had gotten an idea from my doctor's office about using faux ceiling tile on the walls out there. I went to Lowe's and bought 14 sheets of the stuff. Supposed to be super easy to cut to fit and to apply. Not! This is all providing the walls are smooth and straight, and the walls in this bathroom definitely are not. After a couple of hours wrestling with this stuff, cutting it to fit, etc. I gave up once again. Monday I took the remaining sheets back to the store for a credit and decided on one of those faux paint finishes. I talked to the lady in the paint department, explaining to her how much I hate to prime and wished to use that new paint with the primer inside. She heard the kind of walls I was trying to paint and promptly told me I would definitely have to prime first, even if I did use the new primer included paint. What a disappointment. Ruined my whole day.

Tuesday, I put up painters tape. When this particle board stuff was installed, whoever did the job, added little strips of seam molding over each 4 by 8 joint, and all that molding had been stained and varnished, so there was a ton of stuff to tape up. On Wednesday, I primed. I was worn out by it, and didn't even go buy my paint. During the priming I realized that all those faux finishes that required circular rubbing or sponging just were not going to work on this super rough wall board. I decided to just straight paint the stuff with some really rich color. I chose one called Raspberry Cocoa. Went this morning and bought the paint. And I just finished, at least with the first coat. I'm blogging while the first coat dries. Then I'll see how much I have left to do. I'm anxious to be done. I hope it didn't come out too dark. Or too purple.

It's so damn hot, and painting in the bathroom, up on a ladder, even with a fan and music, I was sweltering. I know music doesn't make you feel cooler, but it helps in other ways. I came inside and my darling had cut our watermelon, the one we grew ourselves. A Charleston Gray like we both ate when we were kids. You can't buy Charleston Grays in the stores anymore. We had watermelon vines growing a maze out by the garden, but this is the only melon we got off the whole tangled mess. And oh is it sweet. And juicy. And cold. Big black spitting seeds. Deep red heart. Pale green, thick rind. Oblong shape. This is the kind of melon you can hold in your hand and chomp your teeth right into, brings back memories. Nothing like watermelon on a hot, hot August day.

Onward ....

Sweltering in Texas and a New Driveway

Damn it’s hot! We’ve been home from the mountains a little over a week and my internal thermometer has still not adjusted. More and more, I detest Texas summers. In fact, I wonder how I’ve stood them this many years. It seems to me that they’re getting hotter every year, even though I keep being reminded by people that this summer is so much cooler than last. But the difference between 98 degrees and 100 is so negligible it’s almost unnoticeable.

We made an offer on a house we found while we were up in New Mexico. We came home excited and nervous. I talked to the real estate agent on Friday and the people had decided not to sell, had pulled the house off the market. It was too good to be true anyway. Completely furnished. A doll house. They live in Florida and the man had had a heart attack last spring. His doctor told him to stay out of the mountains. I suppose they panicked and put their summer home up for sale. We fell in love with it, too, so I don’t blame them for having a change of heart. But the disappointment overwhelmed me for a few days.  Finally, my SO came to my rescue again, after getting a little miffed at the way I was acting. Disappointments like that have always affected my entire mood. But anyway, now  we’re back to perusing the internet, looking at other options. We really like that area and plan to revisit it again in September when we go back through there on the way to the SO’s Denver market.

A few  good things did come out of it, though. At least we found out our credit scores. And we know  we can get a loan. For some reason, it also made me get off my duff and get some things done around here that have needed doing. We had a construction company out to rebuild the road, or driveway. They came with a maintainer on Sunday, scraped the ground down, then brought in six loads of pea gravel. It’s a huge improvement, no more potholes to splash through. While the road crew  was here, we had them knock down the dirt pile that’s been by the fire-ring for two years growing weeds. That looks better as well. 

I’ve also scrubbed the marble shower stall in our bathroom until it gleams ... well, gleams as much as it’s capable of gleaming. It’s been scratched and scrubbed with too many aggressive cleansers in years past to truly gleam. The door leaks at the bottom and it’s caused the sheetrock on the wall between it and the jacuzzi to crumble and mold. I’m planning to call someone to come measure for a new glass shower door this week; the wall I will attempt to repair myself. Bought some dry wall patch and paint. It’s a small area. Once I get into it and see how much water damage there is, I may change my mind and try to find a handyman. The SO is not one. In fact, I think I know more about this sort of thing than he does, which is saying something since I know almost nothing. He can fix anything mechanical but really hates everything to do with construction or repairs of structure, if that makes sense. His father died when he was in his early 20s and I think that may have something to do with his lack of knowledge in this area. But there’s also a lack of interest. Daddy says he has no self-confidence about building or construction repair, and there’s probably some truth to that. Anyway, I’ve learned to tackle these tasks myself or they don’t get done without a fuss. I actually don't mind that kind of work, I just wish I knew more.

Meanwhile, the three little crepe myrtle at the end of the driveway seem to be thriving this year. I think they’ve finally put down deep roots and are ready to grow. They’ve been so busy surviving and rooting-in that they forgot to bloom. All over the countryside, the crepe myrtle have been spectacular because of the abundant spring rains. But these three skipped the bloom, and root growth is the only explanation I can come up with for it. There have been several times since we planted them that I thought they were dead, or dying, but they've hung on, with us hauling water down there to them when it didn’t rain. The effort has paid off. They will eventually, I believe now, make beautiful trees.

I do still love it here. But I will love it better when it cools off enough to get back outside and do some things. As it is right now, it’s all I can manage just to go out in the mornings and squirt around a little water. Come on autumn!

Onward ....