plotting

A Semi-Candidate Statement about running, but not hard

I had worked out a doable plan to collect signatures to be on this year’s ballot, but then the weather defeated the idea. Being a victim of gun violence, the death of Melissa Hortman made me pull back to reassesses safety vulnerabilities for me and my family. I wasn’t far off from restarting my bid when this pointless war crippled my plans due to rising gas prices.

I do want to serve as representative to this weirdly drawn legislative district I grew up in and love. I would fight so hard for her and all the people. In my heart, I know I’d be effective and solve drainage problems among the others plaguing New York District 23rd. I will absolutely serve if I win by a miraculous write-in vote, but at this time I have decided to take a dedicated run off the table for now. I guess I support Gies…I guess.

That truly made me sad to type those two paragraphs.

Here it is, Wednesday, a whole day before the end of the month and if you’re wondering what exciting things I’ve been up to, it’s mostly been filing and putting things away. I even succeeded in getting two boxes of donations into my car AND a trash bag of broken, threadbare, and or unsuitable for donation items got tossed in the bin.

I cannot stress how downright delightful it is to walk into the mud room now, with all those things sorted and put away. It is still crowded and will be until we take out the firewood shelf in the other room and do another round of seasonal furniture adjustment, but it’s such an “ah” to walk in there now. If I can keep the cats out, I even have the chance to stretch out and quietly read for a bit.

I would be done with Isabel Allende’s book by now if I didn’t have to slog through a stupid war in the book whilst living with the nightmare of our service people stuck on the ocean and having food rationed. The stories that are peeping through are brutal. Only 13 dead the so-called president exclaims…maybe 13 in the first few minutes. Who knows the current, true count? I never would have voted for this; I would be gathering other members and working to write legislation to end it.

C’est la vie. Save the Cat is being perused. I’m not keen on writing the story that popped into my head as outrageous enough to actually work. I’m not keen on going through the novel writing process anymore. It’s long and brutal and if I don’t enjoy driving with one headlight, I certainly don’t want to write that way…which is why novel writing book is out. I’m thinking of becoming a plotter.

I’ve not committed to anything. The joy I have in the kitchen is nothing compared to hearing happy people thanking me for the delicious cookies I made…but even if I did start a bakery, I know that payoff wouldn’t be enough with the money to sustain me. I’d lose the joy, and without the joy, the sweets are average and average is a couple bucks on the grocery shelf which already exists, so why bother, you know? I am considering a swap with a local restaurant though, a cheesecake delivered on Thursday for two fish fry dinners on Friday sort of thing. If you’re in the Springville-Boston area, let me know.

Ha! Why not put lovely thoughts out into the universe? Much better than letting incompetent Epsteinaires blow up rockets, especially when Artemis II shows how you do it with grace and style – by listening to women and working respectfully alongside them.

The trillium is in bloom! Enjoy the spring and thank you for stopping by for the read! I appreciate it and I appreciate you!

My problem with travel

I love going places. It relaxes me to go to other realms, walk around, and see how other people live. It thrills me to hear about other people’s way of live, see the sights they’ve grown accustomed to, and buy things from their local stores.

Ctrip

Being a tourist, I love that.

My problem is that I live in those moments fully. That means that I remember it, but not in the way others might.

Husband and I recently went slightly west. This year, we had planned to travel east and attend the huge summer party in Binghamton as a guest of Jefferson Rose, but that party was cancelled so our (and when I say “our” I mean Husband’s) vacation time was up for grabs. A “Hey I was remembering when we were there” email to my ex sister-in-law led to a “Buddy Guy is giving a concert in October, why don’t you come then” response and we had rudimentary travel plans.

Much was discussed, things were ruled out, but what we ended up with was a beautiful reenactment with variations of our first slightly west journey when the cat was a kitten. I think.

Anyway, when we went to Cleveland, we saw Michael Burke again. This time, it was calmer and less hurried. I got a tour of Berea, saw the house where Husband grew up in, walked around the town, bought a hat and explored this amazing riverside walk by myself.

Ftrip

 

Gtrip

 

I met a woman who I may-or may not-have previously encountered in my dreams. (Coming out of the Berea Historical Building as we were walking by, she arbitrarily started talking to us. Come to find out, she’d been big in Berea Theater scene and knew my mother-in law. Fine, right? Except I had a dream a few months earlier about running into one of Carol’s friends who asked me how she was doing and I thought, ‘well, you’re not such a great friend if you didn’t know she died almost a decade earlier.’)

The Barking Spider was frequented, as was The Cleveland Museum of Art.

 

Atrip

 

(Yes, that is a falling angel giving the finger) In the Cleveland Museum of Art, I did not heed Michael’s advice to take in a small amount of work, instead I ran from picture to portrait to sculpture and immersed myself with the almighty depth, breadth and longevity of the pieces and bought a lot of postcards. It is an amazing place, inside and out.

Etrip

I wasn’t aware of the chandelier (bad picture, I know) or that Cleveland had the largest bank lobby–The Huntington Bank. Cleveland’s nightlife is far more “happening” that I would have thought.

Dtrip

From there, it off to Indiana. We saw Buddy Guy in Elkhart’s Lerner Theatre. Great music and a beautiful space. (When I find the right cord, I’ll get the pictures off the camera.)

 

In Plymouth, we spent time visiting with Sue and Kevin. I got to see my niece and her family, my ex mother-in-law and the brilliant nurse, Nancy Coney. Husband and Kevin got the glass doors on the bookcases while Sue and I toured downtown. We got to listen to albums up in the sunroom and because life is just too funny, their neighbor’s Ford Galaxy 500 convertible started up and I got to take a ride in it to the Dairy Queen, which sadly, I’d forgotten about until I saw the picture of the car.

Btrip

On our way home, we stopped in Fort Wayne to see Chyo’s new place, then headed east. Cat was not impressed with our leaving, but I think she’s finally forgiven us–at least she isn’t as loud.

So, that’s the problem, I start to lose the details and nuisances that made the trip so interesting. *Sigh* I know, I’ll recall them when I write (I’m only down a day on NaNo) but the story I’m writing this time–the one that I plotted out, well, the characters have decided that the people I saw them ending up with don’t want anything to do with those people and there’s very little from my trip that relates to this new novel.

In my absence, the last round of edits from my editor arrived, so now I’m feeling out XO man to see if he and Girlfriend will have time to read it before they take off on a trip of their own.

Ah well, that is a sad little glimpse into the gorgeous problems (ones she loves) that this writer has gladly endured recently.

 

*These are my Creekside Reflections. Your experiences may vary.