This Life...
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Today, It’s All About the Awesome…
…that is being a new grandparent. Our grandson, the little jumping bean, arrived in the world last night to the strains of the Rolling Stones’ Street Fighting Man, the song Son tells me was playing on the iPod as the kid was born. I’m going to hope this is a premonition of his ability to handle himself in tough situations—let’s go with that. Anyway, in spite of being almost two weeks early, he’s healthy and strong. DIL was incredible, delivering him in 11.25 hours without any pain meds. How impressive is that? She’s my new hero. Son is still in awe—there was no way his dad could tell him what…
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Naming Grandma
I’m going to be a grandmother and probably sooner than later at this point since DIL is home on rest and quiet after yesterday’s checkup with the obstetrician. We’re sending all kinds of “stay put, kid!” energy to the little jumping bean because he needs just a couple more weeks in the oven. So, if you’ve got some good energy to spare, send it out to DIL, okay? Thanks! The naming thing has been on my mind. The writer in me objects to being called just plain “Grandma.” I know that’s probably bratty. Grandma is a perfectly acceptable moniker and there’s no reason why our little JB can’t call both…
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Summer’s Coming
I know this because our catalpa tree is flowering and that’s a sign that June is close. The tree is currently a riot of snowy blossoms and it sits right at the end of our driveway. I can hear the cars slowing out on the road; I’m sure they’re admiring our ancient catalpa. When we first built our house, a man stopped by one day and asked if he could check the tree for catalpa worms—apparently, they’re great for fishing. Who knew? Catalpas are indigenous to our state, so you see them around a lot. We don’t know how old ours is, but we think it’s pretty old because it’s…
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Be Slow, My Heart
It’s been five months since I went the to E.R. with a racing heart, which was diagnosed as AV Nodal Reentrant Tachycardia (we in the biz just call it AVNRT). Basically, my heart goes off into a funky fast rhythm for no apparent reason beyond I have a glitch in my electrical system. It had been doing this regularly since I turned 54, but the last time it happened, I couldn’t get it to stop on my own. Thus, the trip to the E.R., the diagnosis, and now I have a cardiologist. Jeez, does anything sound older than “I have an appointment with my cardiologist’? Well, last Friday, I had…
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A Mini-Vacation
This weekend I didn’t work. I know, shock of all shocks, Nan left her little garret and went out into the world. Well, it was time, trust me. I’ve been working pretty much nonstop for almost a month, getting practically no writing done and keeping unholy hours. But, that is the life of a freelance editor. You work when the work is available, so I’m not whining, just stating the facts. It felt lovely to get away though and I’m indebted to my dear friend, C.L. for whisking me to Cincinnati, where we took in the Newport Levee, Main Strasse in Covington, St. Mary’s Basilica, the Newport Aquarium, and the…
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Wow…Just, Wow!
It’s been a pretty cool few of days. In spite of the fact that I’m buried under a couple of heavy-duty editing gigs and am in hermit mode, I’ve managed to collect some great news. My novel Rule Number One is now available on Amazon.com. If you haven’t had a chance to get it yet, here’s a brand new opportunity, <grin>. And, pretty please, if you do have an Amazon account, if you’d stop by and “Like” my book, that would go a long way to supporting me in this little venture. Merci, in advance! My friend and fellow writer, Robena Grant is a finalist in the RWA Golden Heart…
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Mea Culpa
I’m not sure this is really a case of mea culpa or more a case of Nan realizing that something she hated is actually not all that bad, but here goes. Last July, I posted a rant about smart phones—all about how much I hated them. How I despised texting and how rude I thought it was when people texted while they were supposed to be conversing with me at lunch or dinner. Although I’m now of a new mind about smart phones, I’m definitely not changing my mind about the texting part. I still hate it when people put their phones on the table next to them during a…
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Okay, So Now It Is All Party, Party, Party…
What’s better than gathering all your dearest friends around you to celebrate a joyful moment in your life? Not a thing! Last night, the menopause fairies, my sisters, and my two critique partners all came over to help me celebrate the release of my novel, RULE NUMBER ONE. It was a hen party pure and simple, and I had a blast. So far, the phone calls and emails I’ve gotten this morning indicate that everyone else did too. Twelve of us sat around my big dining room table, drinking wine and eating pizza. Patty brought brownies because even though she’s not quite old enough to qualify as a menopause fairy…
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An Elegant Mourning
Today’s post is a repeat of one that I did for the Bettyverse back in the summer. I’m repeating it now in honor of my nephew, Kyle Alexander, who died ten years ago today. God bless you, Kyle, and peace be with you, my dear sister. “We find a place for what we lose. Although we know that after such a loss, the acute stage of mourning will subside, we also know that we shall remain inconsolable and will never find a substitute. No matter what may fill the gap, even if it be filled completely, it nevertheless remains something else.” —Sigmund Freud (1961) Ten years ago, my dear sister, PJ, lost her…
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Not My Mother’s Stretch Pants
My friend C.L. (whom I’ll credit with the title for today’s blog) and I were talking clothes this morning and I mentioned how much I love my Land’s End yoga pants. She immediately chimed in with, “Oh yes, I love my yoga pants, I probably have seven pairs! I put them on as soon as I get home from work and live in them all weekend.” “I know what you mean,” I agreed. “I have at least that many pairs. I work in them every day–they’re so incredibly comfortable. They’re not all big and baggy like sweatpants. They fit you and always look great, so you can pair them with…