holiday

Patience and pivots

As I mentioned in a cover letter recently, my experiment in being kinder to myself since November (if I miss deadlines or don’t bake well enough, etc.) has resulted in a lot of things being accomplished and in less time than I would have expected. I made a ton of baked goods this year and the Christmas cards went out in time-ish. My kitchen drawers are sorted. I’ve been editing and reading. I’m revamping my submitting system. I don’t know if this level of productivity will be maintained, but so far, I’m pleased.

I hope the holidays were great for you. There were several pivots here. While the blizzard ravaged Cheektowaga and Buffalo, here by the creek, we were fine. Six to ten inches of snow. We had no plans to travel, had previously stocked up for the grazing holiday, and so were grateful to find we didn’t need to leave the house for 5 days. Yes, parts were tense. That many days together nonstop is a lot when you’re both used to different routines. A few times, we all wanted to disappear into the gift paper but only one of us managed to camouflage.

Another pivot was to the past, but very much the present, with a visit by Moe-sippy – excuse me if I did not spell that right – a tall guitar man from Husband’s childhood that stuck. He’d written two new songs – one reggae, one rap. Not only did I get to hear his work in progress, but he’d brought a notebook he wrote when he was 17. Coming-of-age questions remain the same throughout the decades; I was reminded of having similar ones when I, too, left home at 17 and found out the world can be an awful place. But there are friends there, too, and possibly multiverses where you know them. (If you haven’t seen Everything, Everywhere, All At Once yet, you must.)   

I’d expected to have written and posted something earlier this week, but here we are on New Year’s Eve. Soon I’ll be lighting a bayberry candle and choosing something to watch before the midnight countdown coverage. Box sets of Star Trek: The Next Generation and The Waltons arrived from the North Pole this year. I’ve lined up some movies mentioned in the chat of the latest Kathy Fish flash workshop by other amazing writers. Moe-sippy reiterated The Curious Case of Benjamin Button as a choice, I nattered on about The Prestige to him. The Manchurian Candidate and the remake came up; same with Total Recall. The Big Chill, and Easy Rider, too. So many movies to study, so many calls for work closing, so many deep breathes to take while remembering we’re all in this together.

I am happy to find you’ve read this far so I can wish you the best in the new year. Thank you for stopping by and for the read!

The Holidays. *Sigh*

Since last I wrote, things started out quite lovely. I got an acceptance from Matter Press for my piece, “I’m Calling Him Skippy,” about a woman who rescues a dog from bad owners. At about the same time, Husband called from Adoring Pets with sad news. While I assumed that the dog would cost us a million dollars, I didn’t think she’d die. What the one vet thought was a minor issue, was in fact cancer. It’s not in her lungs yet, but even with surgery (keeping her cast dry in this weather? Really?) and drug treatment there’s only a 48% chance she’d be alive in a year.

If you met Tye, you know how sweet she is and we can’t do that to her. On Monday, she’ll be going into work with Husband. Mondays suck anyway, and before Christmas is somehow better then afterwards…

Nancy, my friend from the Playwright Workshop, and I had plans to go see Gary Earl Ross read that night. Mr. Ross selected my piece, “Wildflower Wishes,” to include in the Queen City Flash anthology, and I hoped to pick up my copy that night, but with that news, and the snow, we didn’t go.

The snow…it’s been unbelievable. I didn’t go shopping last week, nor did I go to the library because the driveway was filled with snow. I’d shovel and later it wouldn’t look like I’d been outside. Husband got the driveway under control on Saturday, and then Sunday, we drove to Grandma’s house. I had no idea how hard the dog’s illness was going to be. Grandma doesn’t hear very well. I couldn’t tell her this was Tye’s last visit. It broke my heart to see Tye look up at her and hear my Grandma say, “It’ll be all right,” because no, it isn’t. 

12.13B

I had a short story accepted at Page and Spine. The bonus for that is I’d just had it rejected by Carve. If you have a piece rejected by Carve and it’s published elsewhere, they link it from their site. Maybe it will get them to look closer at the piece I have under consideration there now.

I was working on my novel yesterday waiting for Husband to get home when I heard something in the driveway. He was stuck. Our most awesome neighbor came with his tractor, cleared the driveway and got Husband’s truck out of the mushy part of the lawn. Thank you Bill!!! The thing was, I looked out the window, saw him stuck and thought, “Are you kidding me? Another crappy thing to deal with?” I have forgotten to mention that I got a call from my credit card company. My card had been stolen. So yeah, that was even more fun added to the mix. Today, on the news I found out it was most likely from the Target theft. Fun.

The holiday letter and cards are being sent out today, one of the latest send offs, but I just finished them last night after Husband’s company Christmas Party at J. P. Fitzgerald’s. It was a nice party. I sat by Trish and she and I talked about her work, her trips to Haiti, and her daughter’s writing. Paul and Kim were at our table, as was Tessa, and the old assless chaps joke came up once again. How can a party be bad when the conversation includes discussions of juice boxes and assless chaps?

So, I have more cookies to make and I need to finish up my twenty pages to send to my awesome novel critique group today. I hate being this late with things, but then again, I had no idea we’d have this much snow, which led to fewer shopping days. No, what it is is that I had no idea how much I love this dog and it pisses me off that she isn’t going to be around anymore. Screw it. I have cookies to make. I hope your holiday–if you celebrate one–is fantastic and blessed and bright. Here’s looking to a better New Year.

 

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