Musings
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A Heartening Tale
Man, I’d so love to write an update blog that has nothing whatsoever to do with my health–sadly, it’s not this one. But happily, there is good news to report. I haven’t shared this particular issue on social media, mostly because I’m kinda sick of my own issues, but also because I’m trying to keep social media a happy place where I talk about writing and books. About three weeks ago, maybe a month, I started having dizziness and chest discomfort–ack! I’ve been really tired for about a year and have chalked that up to grief and other body issues that we won’t go into and of course to my…
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Three More Days of Thankful
It’s Sunday and we’re closing up the lake cottage for the winter season, which means draining all the pipes and pumping in antifreeze, packing up all the food, storing all the deck furniture, making the place as unwelcome to mice and other rodents as we can, and covering the furniture with dust sheets. It’s bittersweet. I love being at the lake, it is unquestionably our escape from real life and we work hard to keep it that way. In the past, when November came around, we were pretty much ready to stop making the drive and spend winter in the city. This year . . . well, not so much…
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Still Here, Still Grateful
These are pictures of the lighthouse at Point Betsie in Frankfort, MI–the town Willow Bay is based on. Remember this lighthouse–it will show up in Sarah’s story and in Libby’s, too–the Women of Willow Bay books currently in progress. I’m behind, as usual, but with good reasons . . . well, okay, decent excuses. I confess gratitude comes hard after this election because I’m sad and scared. But, sad and scared is no way to live. Neither is angry, so I’m working very hard to remember that I live in a great country. America is already great and we’ve survived this long because of our diversity and creativity and our…
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Three More Days of Grateful
This is my picture of peace–it’s Lake Michigan. Isn’t it lovely? It’s been a disturbing week–the national elections didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped, but as I’ve read all the comments and postings on Facebook and Twitter and listened to news stories and pundits and commentators, I’ve come down here: It’s going to be okay. Our democratic process worked. The way our founders set up the electoral process functioned as it was meant to function. It didn’t work the way I wanted it to, but it worked and now we have a new president-elect. Like everyone else who voted for the other candidate, I’m disappointed and yes, frightened by…
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Two Days of Grateful
Yesterday, we packed up and headed back to the city–just one more trip to the lake for 2016 and that will be our one to winterize the cottage and say goodbye until spring. So, I didn’t write yesterday and I didn’t write today either because we had Internet issues that needed to be resolved and then I went to vote and now . . . well, I’m done with the first part of the editing gig I’ve been working on and my foot hurts and I have a meeting at church tonight and I’m just longing for a cup of tea and a nap. So, I’m thinking . . .…
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Writing MoJo
In all the crap going on in my life right now, writing is the one thing keeping me sane–well, writing and Husband, who has been amazing and supportive. He deals with my fears and my little stupid meltdowns and is taking on more of the household responsibilities since standing on the damn boot I have to wear on my broken foot makes my hip hurt. At the moment, my body and I are working at cross-purposes in my life, but as far as I understand it, everything happening with my health is pretty much fixable, so I suppose I should chill and ride it all out. Honestly, I’m kinda ashamed…
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15 Days and Counting . . .
A quick report on the 21-Day Writing Challenge that I’m doing in between editing gigs, blogs that need to be written, last-minute IRWA Retreat duties, physicals, flu shots, laundry, getting the lake cottage ready for winter , cleaning the city house . . . aw, hell, there’s no cleaning going on. At this point in time, I’m lucky to be getting laundry done and meals made. Good news is that I’ve written for at least an hour every single morning for the last sixteen days, averaging about 800 to 900 words a day. It feels so good to be writing. I don’t know if what I’m writing is complete crap,…
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So Far . . . I’m writing
I made a plan over on the Word Wranglers blog on Tuesday, I committed to getting up every day at 6:30 a.m. for the next 21 days to write for one hour. This may not seem all that difficult, but right now, for me, it’s huge. First, just making myself leave my nice warm bed, where my nice warm husband is sleeping, is really hard. I mean, it’s still dark outside and yes, yes, I’ve been spoiled by sleeping late since Husband retired. (And by late, I mean 7:30.) So that’s the first hurdle, but it’s not nearly so large as the second, which is butt in chair, hands on…
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Fall Is Here
Fall has always been my favorite time of year, maybe because I was born in late September and I think of myself as a fall baby. But since we got the lake cottage, summer has ranked pretty high on the favorite seasons list, too. This year, I’m kinda ready for cooler nights and crisp days, jeans and sweatshirts, and apples from the orchard, but I’m dreading leaving the lake. In about another month it’ll be time to close up the cottage for the winter, get the boat stored, and say good-bye to our lake friends. That’s the hardest part about shutting down our lake life–saying good-bye. I miss them all…
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Lent Check-In . . . I’m Still Here
Wow, I’d sure like to say that I’ve been hugely successful at unknotting the knot, which was my Lenten goal, but sadly, I’m not quite there yet. But, I can say that I’m trying, I’m releasing stuff, just not everything. But in an attempt to let go of the body issue worries, I’ve scheduled the CT scan and Can’t wait for it to be done, so that the doc can tell me, “Kid, you have diverticulitis, welcome to aging, and pay attention to your diet.” One thing I have learned about the diverticulitis thing is that everyone is different. Some folks can eat whatever they want, some can’t. I’m being…