Is Anyone Else Cold?

     I'm ashamed to admit that when the thermometer reaches sixty I begin to freeze a little at a time. Except for surges of warm off and on until April or May I continue to be cold throughout the fall, winter and spring. I just can't help it. I'm a warm-weather girl. Fall is beautiful weather and I bundle up from top to bottom and stand just outside the back door to admire the beautiful colors for five minutes at a time and I love to go driving but that just about does it.
     It is really hard to enjoy all that beauty when the ends of your fingers are numb and your nose is dripping.
     I think that's one of the reasons I've always turned to books and reading. You can put yourself deep into the beauty of any weather . . . snow, pouring rain, typhoons, burning sun . . . and love every minute of it. In the meantime you maintain perfect body temperature with the furnace (or air conditioner) blasting soothing air right onto your little toes and fingertips.
     Well, I might as well become resigned to it. The Powers that be are not going to change things around at this late date to suit me. I'll just continue to freeze until the day comes when I can't move from the cold and then they'll just cover me up and there I'll be.
     I don't worry about any heat, believe me. It would take a lot to thaw me out anyway.
     Yesterday was such a shock after the wonderful warm fall weather I've been enjoying so much. It wouldn't have been so noticeable but for the family reunion we had at Lake Stockton on Mutton Creek. There we were, forty five-fifty strong, on the north slope, with the wind whistling off the lake water, totally exposed, no shelter but for a blue tarp in front of the cooker for the fish. It was dreadful.
      My neck and upper back was in a mess anyway following two trips to the chiropractor last week with another visit scheduled for today. Then I sat in lawn chairs and finished off the lower back. I can't remember when I was more miserable.
      But there I was . . . enjoying my large, large, laaarrrrgggeeee family.
      What a day.
     Upon arriving home about 6:30 p.m. I took a muscle relaxant and applied a heat pack to all the places it would reach (never mind that I KNOW I'm supposed to use ice . . . are you kidding?) and finally got warm and happy.
      Every single person in my family camps and revels in the outdoors. I swear, the colder it is the more they enjoy it. Not me. Not mine. We believe in nice warm houses. Nice warm furnaces. Nice comfortable recliners. Books. Comfort.
      Warm.
     Things around here have gone from hectic to more hectic. I only have a month to go before the Missouri Folklore Society conference date of the 4, 5, 6th of November. Liz Faries (my co-chair) and Jan Caudle, who is kind enough to be helping out, are coming tomorrow night and I'll meet them again in Neosho on Wednesday. There are so many details to this and Liz has done it all before and I'll at a loss about much so I'm really thankful to Jan (as well as all the others who are up to bat with this). We keep getting proposals from members and every one is so interesting sounding! Unfortunately, I'll be kept so busy I won't have time to sit and listen to any of them. Oh well, next year will be my time for that. In the meantime, I have to try and attract an audience!
     Lou called today about my Trash to Treasure manuscript. I think it will be ready for the shelves in the next couple of weeks. She did a bang-up job with the cover and I really like it! I sent an ariel view of the junkyard and she wrapped it around the whole book and then superimposed an old truck on the front between the title and the author. It looks great from the jpg and I expect it will look just as good on the book. She still has a couple of blogs to go and I think it will be ready to go.
     Just in time for Christmas. I hope to get some advertising out before it is too late for the season.
     Got to stop for now. Grandkids for the time being.
     Family First.

Better Late Than Never

     So much is going on in our house right now I can barely breathe. Between family, our business stuff, MFS conference responsibilities and all the bits and pieces of getting the new book out there I meet myself coming and going.
     First thing in the morning is the coffee pot, natch. Next, turn on the computer. Run and make the bed. Get dressed. Check the e-mail. Drink my first cup and try and open my eyes a little wider. (I sleep later nowadays than I used to and I don't wake up fully for a looooonnnggg time.) Last night's dishes (no, I don't do them at night!).
     Okay, to work. Back and forth to the computer to the dining table to the stuff piled on the desk to the computer to the table to the stuff piled on the desk to the shop to see if Ben wants some breakfast (he goes out but he doesn't seem to eat enough to keep a bird alive so I always have to try anyway) back to the computer, etc., etc., etc.
     Last night Sandy and I drove to Lamar to watch the football game. Aaron made two touchdowns and ran most of the yardage for the third one but we lost by just a few points. Unfortunately, he managed to get a concussion so it ended the evening on a sour note. By the time we all got home and he was established at his dad's house and it was clear that everything was okay it was well after midnight, but do you think I could sleep late this morning? Nooooooo. I had to wake up early and worry, worry, worry about everything.
     Write? Who has time to write? I wish I did. I love to write. I want to write.
     I hear those tales from writers who tell everyone who listens that they never ever miss their daily stint. Well, I'm here to tell you, that they must miss out on a lot of stuff. Or maybe they're just more organized than I am.
     But I ask you this: when you're in the middle of a story or an assignment and the nursing home calls because your in-law is having a panic attact or a meltdown of some sort, do you choose to sit there until your three hours are over or do you stop and let it wait until you find time? If your kid is receiving an award at 10 a.m. and that's when you have your writing time, do you say "Uh, oh! Can't make it?" and go on with your article?"
      Maybe that's the difference between me and a really dedicated writer. I can't give up my 'real' life for the one I yearn for in my mind.
      But that's okay. I have lots of rewards from both ends of things. And every now and then I actually get a book out on the market. . . whoopee!
     So watch out for the latest. Probably about the end of October. From Trash to Treasure: the Evolution of An Ozarks Junkyard. You will be able to get it from Amazon. Check out the publisher at .



    

Karen - Spillin her Dreams: Almost a Millionaire

Karen - Spillin her Dreams: Almost a Millionaire: "The other evening we were relaxing before heading to bed when our phone rang. Wayne answered and a person on the other end said the words ..."

THANK GOODNESS, SIS, YOU HAVE THE GOOD SENSE YOU WERE BORN WITH!

A Really Really Good Excuse for Procrastinating

     Things are heating up around our house as I'm trying to prepare for knee surgery. I'm not finding a lot of spare time for extras while waiting as I'm suddenly loaded with a number of unexpected responsibilities. One of the grandsons is spending time here each day and requires supervision so I'm more confined than I had intended to be at this point and I'm never ever going to get caught up with the housework and necessary errands before the deadline.
      School will be out soon and then there will be others around too. The college student is home so things are really going to town now but that's ok as I'm certainly enjoying her presence.
     I've just finished a two week regimen of anti-biotics to I won't have to deal with any infections lurking in the shadows. I spent all day Monday at doctor's offices and hospital pre-admittance sessions, getting poked and pried and questioned until I thought my head would pop (not to mention various and sundry parts of my poor abused body). I wonder how people ever managed to have surgery done before they came up with all of this "necessary" stuff to do before you're even admitted into hospital?
     And I'm waiting on the galleys of the Trash to Treasure book to get here so I can go over it and send it back to Lou before the deadline. Naturally, she is loaded with responsibilities also so there you are. (I must not even allow myself to think of the MFS conference in the fall...OMG...no, no, no.)
      All of this is so my few readers can understand that I will not be writing for awhile. Please keep checking in and as soon as I'm up to it or find a few minutes I will post a note or two...who knows? I may even get a chance to do another short one BEFORE the surgery, which is on the 25 of May.
     Anyway, wish me luck. I don't expect any problems at all. I've already had the right knee replaced (in November last year) with no difficulties so I'm not planning for any this time either. Give me six or eight weeks after the operation and I'll be running around all over the place again, flapping like a rooster who has just been decapitated.
     So...keep your fingers crossed.

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.)