creek

Finding a Bright Spot

On the 15^th of February, I took a walk up the hill. The following day, I toured the beach in this picture. No snow either day. Balmy.

Today, grey cat woke me early. The trash can was knocked over and the recycling was scattered. I stopped at the end of the driveway to pick up what I could before the truck – at the crest of the hill – arrived. The man on the back mentioned it had been windy, and we waved as he pulled away. I picked up the rest of the farther flung cans, then drove to the post office with wet feet because I wore shoes to “pop into the post office” not chase yogurt cups through the wet yard. This is weather that tries a person’s soul.

Everything has been trying recently.

On the walk of the 15^th, I witnessed the drama of a dead pine tree close up and raw. Most February’s are too cold or snowy to consider such a walk and that’s the way it should be, I think, to have spring buds surrounding you when you encounter dead friends.

Or to temper your anger upon finding evidence of a two-story building on our neighbor’s lot that is highly unlikely to have been issued a permit to be built. Why would they bother when “no one” can see it. What do they care about drainage issues or killing an animal’s habitat?

Ah well, at least – at this second in time – there is fruit.

Thank you if you went and read my story in Fictive Dream this month. Thank you for stopping by and for reading this, too.

Words. Oh so many words . . .

I’m day two into NaNoWriMo and day four into the fabulous Kathy Fish Fast Flash workshop. So, I’m writing. A lot. On top of this, there is the reading I’m doing. There are 14 participants in the workshop, so each day there are those to read on top of my normal reading, work reading at r.kv.r.y. and Literary Orphans, and because I just don’t get enough, I’m a reader for Best of the Net this year. My group was assigned 46 stories to read. I’m up to 14 and there are two I like. It’s an interesting process to read so much, in so many styles on so many subjects.

Before NaNo began, Husband and I went out to dinner at Julie’s and then we went to the antique shop that Jody owns. I ended up with earrings – now I need to earn them.

Local Authors Live at the West Falls-Colden Library went incredibly well.

Again, many thanks to Mary Jo Hodge, Mary Akers, Kim Chinquee, Jeff Schober, Gina Detwiler, Deb Madar and Barbara Early for their stellar work.

Okay, I’m off to immerse and ignore the rising creek.

Thanks for stopping by!

*These are my creekside reflections. Your experiences should vary.

Of Islands and Such

First off, let me just say the Kathy Fish Fast Fiction Workshop is a lot of fun. It’s almost over and I have several new pieces fleshed out – some I couldn’t quite get right in time to post, so I have “extra” which feels great. I also got some insight into characters I want to use in a book – though in the notes for that piece, Kathy suggested it could be a screenplay…and that I should write screenplays if I don’t already. I mentioned to her that from what I read, screenplays were even harder to sell than novels.

Last Friday was my first day back at the Montessori school. This year I’m working as a literacy volunteer. I did 5 forty-five minute classes and then needed a 7 hour nap – which I didn’t get. Matt said he’d cut it down to 4 classes tomorrow. Something told me years ago I couldn’t cut it as a teacher; I’m glad I didn’t let myself get talked into working for a teaching certificate “just to have it.” I applaud and am in awe of teachers. You are AMAZING human beings doing incredibly difficult work. There is a “Teacher’s Day” in May. That’s not enough. There ought to be at least one “Teacher’s Day” a month.

The flash workshop has taken my focus away from submitting, though I did get a few things out. Submittable is a blessing and a curse. Being on the staff side, I know I can go to a submission and read it without tripping it to “in-progress.” Does that mean other editors are doing that, too? I have 18 submissions in my own queue; 10 are open. I have no idea what that even means anymore…

The ever-changing creek has given us an island.

It’s been too cold to explore it and it may be gone by spring – though the daffodils are coming up – so maybe it is spring. With this ditzy weather, it’s hard to tell what season we’re experiencing. It was 20 degrees last night and supposed to be up in the 60’s next week. On Facebook, I saw that Gina’s husband is making maple syrup. I guess it’s time to pull out the seed starter kits and think about starting my tomato and pepper plants. It seems a little early, but with this weather, who knows. Maybe I’m starting them late for this year’s weather.

Thanks for stopping by ~ now go thank a teacher!

*These are my Creekside Reflections; yours should vary.

Blaming the Rain

Taking Alex’s advice, I am doing what I can do…

This is a picture of the creek I live by. The house is to the right.

The iris bloomed last week.

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The tomato and pepper plants are in the garden.

This is the interior of the portico with the wisteria growing up the side.

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I saw these blooming outside the hallway window last night.

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Due to the way the creek changed this year, we have a swimming hole.

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The peonies started to bloom this week.

Besides the political nonsense and the environmental destruction, I’ve had a lot of disappointment with my so called writing career recently. I knew there were going to be days (weeks) like this, but that doesn’t make them pass any faster or lessen the sadness, so I’m posting pictures of the things that I’m grateful for, besides my tremendous friends, family, Husband and colleagues. I truly am grateful. I’m just having a bad few weeks and I know, I need to get back to writing, submitting and repeating and I will. It’s just hard to find the desire right now.

I’m blaming the rain.

My dreams haven’t been helping with the sadness. “Dexter” was my boyfriend in one. I’d cheated on him and he wasn’t going to kill me, he was just going to torture me. I’ve never woken up more fearful, disturbed, and upset than after that dream.

I don’t know what to blame for that one.

(*These are just my Creekside Reflections. Your outlook on life may vary.)