We got home yesterday morning. I had promised the county Democratic chair that I would help her with a senate district meeting that was to be held here. I like her, she's my old mentor. It was under her that I accepted my first job as a precinct chair. When I moved back to this county I told her I wanted to limit my involvement for a while. I'm not ready to reverse that decision, but it was fun to see some of my old buddies from the 19 counties that make up this senate district. I made a contribution to a candidate running for the state senate seat. She'll never win, but I liked things she said, and will vote for her. I wish this state wasn't so conservative and predictable. I wish we could get rid of our governor. He used to be a good guy but has become so partisan, it's cheapened him. Everyone thinks he plans a run for the White House.
The woman who owns the building where the meeting was held had actually read all my books. She told me it was a great honor to meet me and wanted to know if I would be interested in doing a book signing in the future. I said sure, but it is kind of odd for her to want me to do that when all my books are out of print. Later I learned she's expanding her art gallery to include books and indeed, she wants to get more into book sales. We had a lively discussion during one of the breaks. She wondered if I would be inclined to teach a writer's workshop in her upstairs meeting rooms. I told her I had done that quite a bit several years ago at Our Lady of the Lake in San Antonio and at Gemini Ink. I won't do it for free. Workshops take a lot of preparation, and time, thought. I still have my class prep notes, lectures etc. I think I've gotten really lazy -- no, I KNOW that I have, because the thought of having to do this sort of thing doesn't appeal to me in the least anymore. However, I do need to make some writing money. I have made zero so far this years. We'll see if anything develops.
Meanwhile, it's Mother's Day. We're taking SO's mom out to dinner. I got two dozen roses from my son in DC. Wonder if my other son will make contact. Doubt it, but I can always hope. And I'm sure I'll be thinking of my own mom. Fifteen years since she died. Sometimes it seems longer.
Onward ....
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