Spring is my favorite time of the year and now that the taxes are done and the sun is shining on a regular basis I can really take the time to enjoy it. I took all the stuff into the accountant this morning and spent a couple of hours with him, walking out with only one small item to look up after I got home. Then I called him with the answer and filed the papers, heaved a sigh of relief and walked outdoors to admire my miles of golden daffodils.
For years I've allowed the jonquils to spread and the results are wonderful now. Of course there are the predators . . . first the husband and now the grandson. They despise anything that they aren't allowed to mow down and I have to watch Aaron like a hawk.
I threaten to put large rocks all over my yard until the green blades turn to brown and lean into the dirt. In fact Aaron begins making noise when the tiny plants first begin to peak their spears above the ground. "Ohhh, look," he will say. "It's going to be time to MOW!"
Someday I'm gonna kill that kid.
But spring has finally come and Easter Sunday is this weekend. The college-age granddaughter will be home for a short-short visit, Ben is feeling a bit better and life is good for the time being.
I registered today for the Arkansas SCBWI conference in Little Rock to be held the end of April. It didn't look as it I could take the time to go but turned out that I could and since I've got two juvenile books to pitch to agents and editors I'm really pleased to find I could make it after all. This has been such a lousy year in every other way and I've not had time or energy to market any of my writing (never mind that I've not even been able to produce anything new either) so I'm tickled to find something with this much promise.
It looks as if the adult non-fiction is going to be published in the near future if everything goes right so everyone keep fingers (and toes) crossed, please, and I will update you as soon as I hear anything. Keep in mind that the publishing world moves sloooowwwwllllyyyyyyy though so don't look for it too quickly.
In a moment of madness, I tore 'my corner' completely apart yesterday afternoon. Sort of a celebration of sorts for finishing the income tax. My chair and table and lamp are surrounded by desk, computer, another lamp, a spare upright bass fiddle that has sort of been swallowed up, and piles and piles and piles and piles of books, magazines, manuscripts, papers, clippings, etc., etc., etc. Since I was basically crippled about June last year with this blasted knee thing, my housekeeping on the whole got completely out of hand and 'my corner' has been completely neglected. I kept saying to Ben that I was going to get to it and suddenly I did.
I've burned a lot of stuff and now I have about 2/3 of the books stacked up neatly but I still have approximately 1/3 of the books left to make decisions about (do you know how hard it is for me to part with a book?) and about a half dozen shallow boxes filled with various and sundry papers, photos, clippings, etc.
I sort of wish I'd never started it but it needed to be done.
When I die they will just have to burn down the place and put me on the top. There isn't any other solution.