Boston Mountains: Unending Beauty

       Last week I made a trip down through the edge of south-western Missouri, through the Boston Mountains to Ft. Smith, turned left and on to Little Rock. In May, the scenery is so beautiful it takes the breath away and it is difficult to keep one's mind on driving (especially when you're cruising along between 70 and 80 mph). While some might argue that adding the long high freeways have ruined the look of the Ozarks, I would say that it has enhanced it. It's rather like being in a low-flying plane and swooping over the thousands of acres. One gets the feeling of wilderness from looking down on the green sea below. The observer knows there are homesteads here and there (but really very very few, even now),still they are seldom there to view. The whole lovely experience leaves one breathless from beauty.
     My main objection to the super highway is that one must travel so fast you can't savor the experience enough.
     The observation I made to my husband on my return, though, was that I enjoyed covering large distances in a short period because it gave me a chance to see how the terrain connects and changes and I can make out how the valleys and hills (mountains) wave and roll. It's sensual in the feel.
     I first discovered the feeling on a long trip out west when I was younger. Sitting in the passenger seat at the time and watching the changing scenery, it struck me how the different areas fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. I loved the feeling at the time and now I watch for it.
     Finding that same feeling on my trip was so very satisfying.
     Things have been in a rush around here and it doesn't look as if it will end very soon. The yard has been mowed once and it screaming at us to mow again. My attitude is that we moved to the country and it should look wild anyway but Ben insists wild is wild and he refuses to have a hayfield for a front yard. Since it only takes about two days before the grass is ready to bale I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. I reckon I'll be mowing pretty soon, wouldn't you think?
     I've fought some kind of flu bug for two weeks and finally called the doctor and got some anti-biotics. Knee surgery is scheduled for the end of May and I can't afford to let myself get too run-down this month. I'm trying like mad to get caught up with things but sometimes I feel like Alice drowning in a sea of tears.
      (BTW, if you've not gone to see Alice, do so, right now. It is the only movie I've ever watched satisfactorily with 3-D glasses over my own spectacles and it was great, great, great! They integrated the original book with the Looking-Glass novel and it turned out beautifully, especially the Hatter and the Queen of Hearts. I couldn't believe what a good job was done! Highly recommended. Not just for kids.)
     Just returned from a weekend conference in Little Rock where I gave some effort to marketing two juvenile manuscripts, Junkyard Bones, a mystery concerning a boy who finds a dead body in his grandfather's junkyard, and For the Love of Pete, a humorous story of a kid who wants a dog but isn't responsible enough to have one . . . yet. Got an agent and an editor who will look at them but need to make a couple of changes to each one first, based on some suggestions made after discussion. This is where one really benefits from actually having one-on-one interviews with the person the author is interested in selling a manuscript to. You can get a feel of what they really want.
     In the meantime, I'm waiting for the galleys of the adult non-fiction book that is scheduled to come out sometime in the near future, From Trash to Treasure: The Evolution of an Ozarks Junkyard. Unless something goes wrong, it will be published by High Hills Press. The editor had expected it to be ready by now but so far I've not received the galleys. I did tell her I couldn't do anything for a couple of months after the surgery so if she doesn't have things for me to do before then it will have to wait.
      Yesterday I got so tired of lying around feeling bad (and I couldn't concentrate on anything creative) I decided to scrub the bathroom floor. It was needing it something awful so I poured Puerex and stuff into a bucket and went to work on my hands and (what was left of one and one (re-built and sort of hard-to-get-down-on) knees and scrubbed with a vengence. Well, the floor is certainly cleaner now. It smells to high heaven in the bathroom too. But we still could use a new floor. I may have to begin campaigning all over again.  There are some disadvantages to uncovering what is hidden by dirt, right?
      Aaron just left for school with his brand-new driver's license. He is so proud and I'm so proud of him. It is so much fun to watch a little boy turn into a responsible young man. Besides, he can go to the store for me. Whoopee!
     My coffee is getting cold and duty is calling. Spring is outdoors and so is my deck chair. Which one will win? Who knows?

Which Come First : the Chicken (housekeeping) or the Egg (writing)

     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.



    

Bluebirds, Blizzards and the Beast Within

     What an exasperating month this has been! (Yes, Ellen, I know that exclamation marks should be used sparingly and only for special emphasis, but by golly, I've earned the right this time.)
     Endless winter has had me pulling my hair out anyway lately. Taxes have been piled up on the dining table since the beginning (!) of February (I know, I know); it seems we've had every problem known to mankind, what with elderly parents with physical and mental situations, three teen-agers and one nearly teen-ager with various and sundry situations to deal with,  and all sorts of  illnesses and problems among the adults in the family.
     The blues have become a way of life for just about everyone in our immediate circle this winter. The two-day blizzard was just about the straw that broke the camel's back, believe me.
      Had it not been for the bluebird I think I might have run away from home. The Bahamas were sounding pretty good about that time.
      Driving home after delivering someone  to or from (who knows which?) school,  a near liquid drop of perfect blue dipped its wings and soared up from the left pasture and across the road in front of the car, landing on the fence on the other side. It's a wonder I didn't go in the ditch. I've never been so glad to see anything in my life.
     The day was cold and the temperature hovered near freezing. I told Ben that night that I hoped the bird didn't change its mind and return south but the next day (while delivering another child to another location) I spotted another bluebird leading what appeared to be several others. I got a really good look at only the one but I'm pretty certain there were four others.
     The next day, things improved even more. The sun came out! (Note: another exclamation mark.) The temperature was warm. Spring was really coming. Really.
     The beast within began (slowly) to recede.   
     This miracle of sunshine, that albeit off and on, has been a life saver in more ways than one. If ever there was a 'winter of our discontent' the winter of 2009 and 2010 has been just that around this house.
      I suppose I just need to vent. My apologies for getting so behind on this blog. But I'm down to the last of the taxes. The appointment is made with the accountant for next week, I made it to my Missouri Folklore Society board meeting in Columbia today (about six and a half hours driving today...I drove to Lebanon yesterday and spent the night with Ellen) so I'm really worn out, but have things all under control for the conference in Neosho next November. Whoopee! (Note exclamation mark.)

Crazy Busy

     I unearthed a book I got last year this morning, Crazy Busy, by Edward M. Hallowell, M.D. but so far I've been too busy to read it. I can tell I was too busy to read it when it was purchased also as there are several bookmarks stuck in the first two chapters.
     Unfortunately my answer to everything, all my problems, is to buy a book about it. Now, if I were to actually read the book and to put the author's advice into action, perhaps I could solve the problem at hand. But, no, what I do is scan the chapter headings, tell myself this is a really good book and that I will read it thoroughly when I find the time, lay it aside and go on about my busy, busy life and, just as I did with this volume, forget all about it.
     Searching my memory, I do remember buying it when I was at the Writer's Colony at Dairy Hollow last spring and I credit myself with knowing I did use a little of the information the book had to offer with the novel I was working on at the time. However, it could be put to a great deal of good use if I would only heed to some of the advice in my own life.
      Too bad, though, that it will never happen. I'm just too busy.
      I was saddened the other day when learning of the death from cancer of Winston Spencer Churchill, the grandson of Britian's wartime leader. I had made his acquaintance last summer when I was in the south of England, where I heard him speak and later shared a table with him at dinner. He was a lovely man who actually resembled his grandfather except for his wonderfully expressive blue eyes, and I quite enjoyed visiting with him at the event we attended.
     We had a lovely day on Sunday with the entire family here to celebrate (a week late) Amy's twentieth birthday while she is home on spring break. I so enjoy her presence as she brightens the place up as much as the multiple crocuses and daffodils on the south side of the house. She will be leaving on Thursday but will probably come home for the summer to work and save money for the next year (third) as she is planning to study for at least one semester somewhere in Europe. Her major is Art History so there are very few places that wouldn't enrich her wealth of knowledge.
     Got the taxes started today. Ugh.

Necessary Shopping

     The time has come. I'm absolutely forced into taking a trip to Springfield. We're out of T.P. Really. Its an emergency.
     Usually I go by Sam's Club every couple of months and stock up on several things, toliet paper being one of them. I've got lots of storage space and it really is nice to never have to think of this necessary item. I buy two or three very large packages and they last a long long time. But this time, except for trips up following the surgery which occurred on the first of November, I've not had a chance.
     How strange to think I've not made the run to Springfield since October. This is incredible, especially considering that the toliet paper has lasted that long.
     So tomorrow I'll replenish. And go to the doctor.
     Told you. Spring is coming and the weather is warmer. I can go places again. Hurrah.
     The other thing I need to do is spend some time with the granddaughter who lives there. Poor kid. She's been sadly neglected this winter. The youngsters here in town get plenty of attention but since the only time school has been out has been for a day here and there Allison and I don't get many chances to spend time together.
     But tomorrow I'll make up for it.

Spring is A-Comin'...I Promise

     Ben and I drove today, over toward Neosho and out into Oklahoma and I watched closely for hints of green in the brush and trees along the roadsides. At first I thought it was still hopeless but sure enough, here and there I did find just a faint tint . Not much but enough for a promise. I'll take it. And yesterday, while admiring my crocus, my sister mentioned a neighbor plucking a sprig of forsythia that suddenly appeared on the south side of her porch.
     Next will be the weeping willows. They always begin swaying their long yellowing tendrils in the breezes. Then you really know. Spring is coming. I promise.
     I love watching for old barns and homes that are falling down. True, you don't see too many any more. As I grow older so do they and, like myself, they won't last forever. But when I see them, I return momentarily to childhood and the houses and barns of that time. There's just something about the architecture of the years of my growing up that makes me nostalgic.
     When I was small we moved many times. Each spot was a rental as we didn't have much money and cost was the major factor. The only house and land I ever really felt was home was a very big old country home with lovely old woodwork, transoms above the interior doors, wonderful closets and a room of my very own...with a lock. On the property was a big barn, in which one could play,a garden, some outbuildings, trees to climb and lilac bushes under which I could read for hours. There was also a smokehouse and an outhouse, necessary at the time.
     I loved the place with a passion. We lived there for several years and I cried when we left. I still feel a tearing at my heart when I think of it. Once I wrote a poem about it. Sometime, if I can find a copy, I'll post it here. Right now, I doubt if I could even locate it. It seems as far away as the house and barn and they disappeared many years ago. All that is left is scrub brush and trees. The land has grown wild again. But each time I drive by the spot my heart aches for what is gone.
     I believe that's what I'm looking at when I watch for the old barns and falling-down houses. Not necessarily the structures, but the memories. The feeling that someone should take care of the property before it crumbles into dust. People lived there. People loved there. Children lay under the lilac bushes and swung from the ropes in the barn.
     We waited for the crocus and the forsythia to bloom and for the springtime to come.

How Far Can Spring Be?

     Felt rotten for two days and keep hitting the bed for extra sleep. I think I'm coming down with something but it won't develop into anything except the need to sleep and sleep and sleep. Keeps me from doing a lot of things I should do.
    One bright spot is the sunshine that has broken out through the cold. We've not had any more snow or rain for several days and the sun is so nice and warm. Our bedroom faces the south and the windows look out on trees and brush and flowering things, when things are actually flowering. Well, guess what? Yesterday, the golden crocuses were flowering. Yes, truly. Blooming as if spring really was here. Oh, it was wonderful. I sat on the edge of the bed and savored the beauty.
     All around the jonquils are budding up and more crocuses and snowdrops are sticking their leaves above the ground and preparing to bloom too. It didn't make me improve healthwise, but it sure made me happier.
     Let's hope the weather continues to improve, the cold goes away and the spring flowers begin showing in backyards everywhere across the nation. Our spirits will rise again.
     And my body may start to feel better also.