flowers

Mundania Strikes Again

How are you? I hope this post finds you well and your problems solvable. To be honest, I can’t recall if Mundania ever struck before, but there I was, sitting on a toadstool when I noticed my feet were getting wet. I swam to the waterfall and tried to reach the diverter but I lost my grasp and fell into a never-ending chasm called real life. Don’t you hate when that happens to you?

If you’re interested in the boring version: Earlier I was sitting on a wooden stool beside a file cabinet, tabbing the folders with large letters written in magic marker on crisp white paper when I realized the washing machine should have been done by then. I walked into the bathroom and noticed the water like a crime scene. I saw the pool of liquid and marveled at how hard I must have hit something to have made the copper leak. Eventually, my attention was pulled to the larger pool and the true source of the problem. I shut off the washer, but I couldn’t reach to unplug it. I shut the water off. I cleared everything I saw as a possible hindrance. I pulled out a measuring cup and began filling a bucket. As I was filling the bucket a second time, I thought about getting some towels to sop up the water I was standing in. As if there was some cosmic joke running around on the loose, I felt a tingle in my ankle. I don’t think I was shocked, just my sense of self trying to highlight the whole “you are standing in water in front of a machine that might be suffering an electric problem,” shouting to be noticed. I looked to the electric panel, but it’s a 50/50 toss up on which switch to pull. I cleared a path to that closet for Husband to figure out when he arrives home.

(As I jot this, I’m still waiting.)

Sorry for no interesting pictures. I didn’t think to photograph the bouquets recently. I bought three and washed windows. I forgot a lot about how to host, but also remembered arcane things. In pulling away from what it turns out were contrivances, I do feel quieter and very in tune to the futility of all the things that I think are major in life – but in pursuing those, I ended up where I wanted to be. I think. Maybe. Does that make any sense?

And attuned, I’ve been. I have a “master list” of things I want to “get done” and have put off some tasks. One was taking care of the sleeping bags. It turned out that I was glad I didn’t force the issue because they were used for a makeshift bed for someone. Likewise, there has been a hesitancy to clean/clear the shelves above the washing machine and now this has occurred.

That sounds like a rationalization for procrastination, doesn’t it? Perhaps they are magic words that cast a spell and when someone says they will do something tomorrow, there will be a tomorrow – otherwise the guy doesn’t ride out on his chariot or there’s a minor tremor and Sisyphus catches a break. Who knows how the world works when myth or quantum physics enter the conversation? And look, Mr. Quantum Physics is wearing that damn green felt hat with the long brown feather again even though several variations of this entity know exactly how much I hate that thing…

Oh! Two deadlines just walked in draped in grey lace. I have to return to my toadstool now. Take care of you and know that you matter to me somehow.

Thank you for stopping by and for the read!

Cheers!

July and Domestic Adjustments

This month, the fear of everything closing down again served as an impetus to get things done. We replaced our king-sized mattress with two extra-long twins and installed an air conditioner. Both were objectives we kept putting off and now that we’re both getting a good night’s sleep, we wonder why.

We put in another step on the walkway down to the south lawn. The Chipmunk of Doom was warned it was going to happen, but he doesn’t seem happy about it, does he?

Husband finished up the remaining drawer fronts in the kitchen.

Aren’t they gorgeous?

I believe this is a picture of the last bouquet I bought. Cheap flowers from grocery stores were one of the few things that kept me sane this spring. Now, it’s blooming season and these beauties greet me every time I walk out the door.

The lilies take turns showing off their soothing brilliance.

And the wildflowers in the far back are a delight. I brought this one in to identify and haven’t yet – but if you know what it is, please don’t hesitate to tell me at TLSherwood01@gmail.com

As ever, the garden is what it is and currently, it’s well weeded. The peas were wonderful and now the beans and squash are here.

Inside, I made new cases and transferred the feathers from my pillows into them. It’s so nice to have plump and cushioning ones again. I’d used Husband’s sewing machine. In a flurry of texts, that to me still feel unreal, I’m the proud new owner of a Singer sewing machine in a cabinet. Many, many thanks to the marvelous XO Man for the amazing offer and gift.

It’s setup in the bedroom and when not in use it serves as a new writing spot and I’ve even used it to set up the tablet for a Zoom session with Gina and Mary.

Speaking of Mary, she sent a ticket for virtual Crab Con and I went to check out the platform she used. I stayed for the Baby Crab Cam and some interesting discussions as well as a video. It was fantastic! She also let me do a bit of ghostwriting. Thank you!

I managed to submit seventeen pieces this month and am thrilled to say my piece “The Thinnest of Veneers” will be published in Cathy Ulrich’s amazing Milk Candy Review later this year. It started from a prompt in Kim Chiquee’s Hot Pants Office. I’ve knocked out at least five rough drafts for new flashes and an essay. A few things happened that have given me fodder I plan to explore soon. It’s been a while since I’ve felt competent in my writing. (And as soon as I wrote that, I received a rejection. Ugh!)

The library reopened and so far I’ve read Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere and The Future of Another Timeline by Annalee Newitz. I’m catching up on stories in the New Yorker, too. I grew brave on a perfect day and visited with the spectacular Nina Fosati – outside and six feet apart. Not giving and getting hugs saddened me, BUT hopefully soon Covid will be in the past and we can all get back to whatever we choose to be a brighter and more humane normal. In the meanwhile, this creature tempts me to pet and to play, otherwise I’m sure I would have done even more this month.

Thank you for stopping by and for the read. Remember, you are AMAZING and I probably miss you!

Crocuses and Siren Songs

I had a birthday last week and it was not the best, but I survived and am looking at it thus: Bad starts lead to the best finishes. Since then, things are looking up. The crocuses have bloomed!

The car went into the shop and I’m allowed to drive it for a while. We’ll be traveling to my Aunt’s 80^th birthday party this weekend and I’m glad we’ll be going in the car –not Husband’s truck.

Last Friday, I had the best time with Tamara Grisanti. I went with her to the Exhibit X Fiction Series. Kim Chinquee and Christina Milletti read at Hallwalls. After, we attended the reception at Christina and Dimitri Anastasopoulos’ home.

I’m still reading the books I mentioned last time and added “Daisy Jones and the Six” by Taylor Jenkins Reid to the mix. So far – page 118 – not bad. I’ve also read many of the award winning flashes and micros from the lists that have recently been announced. There is so much great writing out there and so many contests and opportunities! Tamara sent an email about the Berlin Writing Prize. I let everything roll over me – birthday wishes, the readings, the theme of circus – and I pounded out a story on Saturday. Thank you SO much Tamara for the inspiration! And thank you once again Nina Fosati for being such an amazing, honest, and thoughtful first reader. Tamara and Nina, you both ROCK!

Speaking of things looking up, this lovely thing arrived the other day. I’m rather fond of it.

We took a walk in the back forty this weekend and found this stray.

The frogs are in the pond.

Our Christmas tree is now planted.

I am thrilled to be able to walk out back again with ease. Scrolling through Facebook and Twitter, I found other calls and I am competitive – with others and myself. Always trying to write better, learn more, find typos…so I’m off to polish, possibly submit, and definitely read while listening to the siren calls of spring and submitting.

Thanks for stopping by!

After the flash flood

My friend remarked that, “Man, your personal life is shit, but your career is going fabulously.” And so it goes, I guess. There was a horrible flash flood here on a October 7^th – Saturday night. I hadn’t finished cleaning the garden shed from the mud wasp invasion and now I have to rinse silt into a saturated yard. The frog’s pond was muddied up and disturbed. They were not amused.

This past weekend, Husband traveled down to Pennsylvania to help Niece from Boston with the estate sale. They returned here afterwards and there were flowers, chili, and talk.

Ben is doing better though he’ll be back in the shop for struts and rear brakes. Soon he’ll need to get his snow tires on, but I’ve been able to make the Wednesday write-ins and the Friday night Hamburg Writers’ Group meetings, so I’m grateful for that.

I’m also so pleased the On the Premises chose my story – one that had been rejected 42 times – as the second place winner. You can read it here: My Song for Majabin. When I was informed I cracked the top ten, I assumed it was a mistake – and at best I’d get a critique. Shooting low and being wrong is quite nice.

There has been a frost and so ends the outside flowers. As a nice end to the season, the moon flowers finally bloomed.

Thanks for stopping by and for the read!

Same circumstances, different pictures.

Well, here it is 6 July 2017 and from the looks of things, my life isn’t much different from the last time I posted. Book revisions are ongoing, I’m still looking for stories in the Literary Orphans queue to accept, and the kitchen is still a mess. In reality, progress was made and good times were shared.

This is the state of the shelving. The trays are made, the glides in place, and I’ve given the cat several rides in and out. She likes it, I swear! We ended up on a road trip to PA in order to plane the maple for the fronts and got to spend time with Husband’s Twin and Amazing Rachael who’d cleaned and painted before we got there. Did I take pictures there? No. Once we left, we were off to the Tuttle’s for a tent raising good time and I got to see Alana for the first time. Do I have pictures of that? No. What I do have pictures of are these gorgeous flowers and limited data left, so please excuse this truncated post and remember, I think you’re awesome for stopping by for the read. Cheers!

*These are my creekside reflections. Yours ought to vary.

If Only…

Last week, Thursday was the only day I didn’t have to be somewhere to do something and I really needed the day to decompress. Hence, this blog post is late. I send this picture of a pink hollyhock as a peace offering.

Thanks to the encouragement from Gina Miani and Mary Akers, I’ve been putting in at least 1000 words a day into “Dreaming Lettie.” Not today though. Today, I wrote a flash that amused me. I’ll be sharing the rough draft with some of you shortly. (Sorry!) After I stack some wood, I’ll probably go back to DL. Yesterday, I wrote over 1500 words, but after an implied sex scene, I didn’t know what to do. I may need to go back to the beginning and write the scenes I skipped to find out the timeline.

The summer projects are going along as well as can be expected. The garden is growing; the trees, flowers and bushes in the back haven’t died; and the walkway redo is farther along than it was last week. We have company coming next week and I’ve been a willing guinea pig for Nancy who just got a Bemer. If you get a chance, try it. After I got a compliment on how radiant I looked from a friend at Lowe’s, I got carded at Wal-Mart. (I didn’t even know they carded at Wal-Mart!)

With the writing, the yard work, and the wood, I haven’t been on Facebook, watching television or listening to much radio. It’s just as well. With this election, everyone seems to be losing their minds. I caught one perfect comment though. Roxane Gay said the equivalent of “I don’t need my president to be my friend; I just need them to lead.” If only she was running – Or Matt Boyle. Sigh.

Have a great week! Thank you so much for stopping by! You’re awesome and I appreciate you! Here’s two more flower pictures!

*These are my creek side reflections; your experiences ought to vary, you know. Just sayin’.

Possessed Lawnmowers, Explosions, and Break Downs.

The morning started with a strange noise. It didn’t go away and not being able to deduce where it was coming from, I got out of bed. I put coffee in the microwave and went out to get the paper only to find the strange noise coming from Husband’s riding lawnmower. I checked, the key was in the off position. I even pulled the key out. I called Husband. He told me it was trying to start itself and to press a button. It stopped making noise. By the time I returned with the paper, it had started again. I’ve been out there 4 times now, BUT I’ve since had my coffee so it’s a bit less disturbing to have possessed machinery in the yard.

That was the latest thing to go kerflunky. Last night, I turned on the grill and when it was hot, I started the chicken and went inside. I heard a “pop” and thought Husband was on the lawnmower and it backfired. No, he came in through the kitchen door to report the regulator on the grill had blown up. Apparently there were flames and everything. I’m glad I missed that and it didn’t happen when I was out there. The chicken went into the oven so dinner was able to be served eventually.

The worst thing–of course–is the Chevrolet Colorado broke down and had to go into the shop AGAIN!!!! This time because the fuel pump died. Yet another grand into that beast and it’s STILL not paid off. Of course it had been in for an oil change at the dealership just before the latest thing went wrong. On Twitter, Chevrolet was sad to hear about my “concerns.” They want me to send them the VIN. For what? A friggin’ coupon for an oil change? I am SO irritated.

Otherwise, this is where I’ve been and where I’ll be. The magic triangle of the screened in tent, the garden shed, and the garden. The fence – at least one side – is slated to go up this year. The gate went in this weekend.

Look, a frog!

The new bulbs bloomed!

And in writing related news, I’ve been working on something and it’s over 5,000 words long so far. I don’t know what to call it yet, so I’m letting it progress at its own pace. I have a review to finish writing, a 300 word profile to write because Literary Orphans is celebrating its 25^th Issue with a special staff page, and lord knows what else. Anyway, I should figure that out and get to it as soon as I crank up the computer and post this.

Thanks for stopping by!

(These are my Creekside Reflections. Your experiences may vary.)

If I Have To Say Something

I occasionally fear I can make things happen by writing about them. At one of the novel critique meetings, Mary shared a similar thought. She’d written a story about someone needing to move and they unpacked the boxes before the people helping with the move could return to take away the next batch of boxes. It was eerie for her when a relative of hers did that in real life.

Recently, I thought it would be okay to write about a main character losing her mother since mine was already gone. I now think I’ll only write about attractive, wealthy, and attentive men who love me and want to console me about my grandmother and swear that my writing had nothing to do with it.

I’m not saying my grandmother was like a mother to me; she was more like a great friend who believed in me, wanted me to be my best, and always had my back. When I was little, she had me walk with dictionaries balanced on my head so I’d have poise and good posture. I brushed my teeth because she said they were important and you didn’t want to lose them. The biggest thing I learned was that life goes on and she taught that by example.

She didn’t know how to drive. When my grandfather died, she took driver ed and she got her license when she was 54–don’t hold me to that, she might have been a bit younger–but not by much. That amazes me, her being that old and deciding that was what needed to be done, then doing it. After that, she went out and got jobs, first at a cookie factory, then at Champion. She worked there for years and retired not because it was her choice, but because it was a company policy.

If she was ever in pain, I don’t think I ever saw it–except for the very end, and I wonder if that in part was just letting out all the hurt that must have been inside. I was not a perfect grandchild. She never said anything, but I know I disappointed her, and I am sorry about that. Constant friends, her brother, her parents, her youngest daughter, my dog that she adored all passed away while she remained–strong, standing, putting another load of laundry on the line, making another grocery list, calling Wes to fix the water pipe that burst and was spraying on the electric panel. I remember seeing her the day after that happened. Something that would have had me cowering in fear of floods and fire for weeks, she shrugged off and didn’t think was worth mentioning. The crisis was over; she’d moved on.

I don’t think of her as gone, someone that resilient has the power to remain in those she touched. I may not be able to call her and tell her I just got published in a magazine or show her that some check was for some words that I wrote. I may not be able to hear her when an episode of I Love Lucy comes on and some silliness makes her laugh. I may not knock on the backroom door and open it to the smell of her rolls, or cookies or roast beef ever again. There won’t be any more hugs or kisses from her, but I’m all right with that. I’m blessed to have had as many as I did when she was alive.

I brought her flowers when I visited because even though she said I didn’t have to do that, I’d get a note or phone call saying that they were so pretty and a thank you. So, let me say thank you for reading this, whenever you happen across it, whether you knew my grandmother or not. I hope you have an amazing person like her in your life, and if you don’t maybe that’s because you’re the amazing one and you just aren’t aware of how other people perceive you. The world is a strange and wonderful place; spring is here; fantastic, good things happen every day and now that I’ve written that, maybe it will be true. I’ll let you know how I make out with my new rich, handsome boyfriends.

(These are just my creekside reflections. Your experiences may vary.)