I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD-SLAPS, SPEED-BUMPS and LIGHT-BULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.



Thursday, September 1, 2016

Hot, tired and happy. (And, wrote last night)

I'm back
One month ago tomorrow we closed on our (downsized) house. Went from over 4000 to 2000 sq. ft. Seeing as I pride myself on my ability to edit and write tight, the shift from too much to still too much less has been relatively easy. Even though it’s been a month we continue to live with a few piles of boxes and spare room closets stacked tight. Everything we use often has a place and I am in love with this new/old forever home.

I will admit though that the four days before our actual physical move were extremely stressful. Because we could move our stuff in a few days early, and set up but not live here, it was like, well, I can’t think of anything it was like. Our house was set and yet we had to sleep at a friend’s mansion on the river which is for sale, and empty of everything, but one bed, a chair and indoor plumbing.

Oh, did I mention it’s been god-awful hot and the house we left had whole house air and the one we are in has gray boxes on living room, family room and master bedroom windowsills.  Did I share that the water was gross from a purification system installed twenty years ago and never serviced. And don’t get me started with a washing machine which never stopped pumping full. (Thank God my husband was monitoring the first fill.) Cable and internet, another snafu. But it’s only been a month, we’re in, hot, alive, exhausted, on line, have clear pure water and our clothes are clean; new washing machine, cheapest on sale. Life is befuddled good.

After a few days off I went back to work full time. My knee is still killing me but job and stretched ligaments are a couple of things which I consider ongoing. And then there’s writing?

What writing?

My column.

I did manage to turn out one column (not yet run) which took a few minutes here and there to finish and submit. Not one of my best, not one I am particularly proud of but it suits my editor. She’s very understanding.

My novel.

One morning before work I had an hour and a half to edit. Felt good, really good because after being away from it so long, this keen reader is seeing it with a very new eye. I had another half hour or so another morning and continued on. That quick writing was done at the kitchen table. At this moment though I am writing in my office, no air conditioner, windows open and summer night sounds as my theme music. It’s a little warm but nice.

Books on shelves, desk set up, and in the corner, a stack of paintings and prints leaning AGAINST the wall which have not yet found their place ON the wall.  Today would have been a great day to just immerse myself in the book but it was granddaughter day. A much better project in which to delve. She’s almost three, and one of two lights in our lives which beacon our reason for buying a house with enough bedrooms for the littlest people in our family to call their own when they come to visit.

It’s good to be back, back from the edge of moving insanity and safely in the hands of a new future with no mortgage payment, one quarter the land and half the taxes. We used to be a thousand feet back in the woods on nine acres and now we have neighbors. It’s nice to hear civilization.

So, hello out there, I’m back, up and running and ready to FTF…finally.

 

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