Yes, the title of this post was an earlier tweet. It’s been one of those weeks you wish you could forget. Or maybe make everyone else forget so you could come out of hiding.
I’ve been unable to settle down to anyone one thing, and a million things need my attention. All I really want to do is write–undisturbed, for just fifteen straight minutes without an interruption–but life won’t leave me alone. Or death. And I don’t dare start on that because I haven’t achieved quite enough distance from a particular incident yet. I’d scare more than a few people. But rest assured it’s book-worthy as in truth being stranger than fiction, involves not sprinkled but dumped, clumped–as in resembling a giant floating turd–human ash in the Gulf, and the memorial wreath sucked into the prop and chopped to pieces by the departing vessel at the conclusion of the ceremony.
My ghosthunting has been hit-and-miss because I’ve received no medical release yet from knee replacement. A piece of investigative equipment I ordered months ago is still frustratingly MIA, even with shipping tracers from both ends. A good thing because the temptation to play with a new toy would have had me investigating too early. A bad thing because all my forced inactivity has turned me into a shrew, and I really need to get out a bit. I miss working with my haunts. The ones here at the house have been more active than usual, so maybe I can cheat on the release situation by having the team spend a night here. Who knows, we could catch more EVP’s, sudden temp changes and orbs.
The new loving and lovable puppy is growing. He’s pure exuberance and probably close to fifty pounds now. A little rough when he does his impersonation of a lap dog and dances up and down your prone form on the couch. But I’m not sure his brain is keeping pace with the rest of his growth spurt. He can’t understand that even though he’s playing, the cat isn’t. Started to Google head jewelry earlier. You know, to order something to insert in all the facial piercings he keeps getting.
Even life’s small pleasures have ganged up on me. My powers of observation are not what they should be. My daughter bought a bottle of wine for a bonfire up here quite a while back, but it was never opened. The other night I decided to yank a cork. Got the bottle out of the fridge, carefully cut the foil away with a knife, grabbed the corkscrew from the drawer. Huh. Screw cap. Couldn’t put it back with a hole in the top, so that night ended up pretty happy!
I’m taking the online class Sayde Grace was gracious enough to host at GCCRWA. It’s been enjoyable, educational and interesting. So why am I sad? She used to only be able to wonder about my writing abilities. Now, unfortunately, she knows for sure. I’m positive no one else has done practice blog posts and forgotten to include their website address. Twice.
Sigh. Fifteen minutes of concentration. Is it too much to ask?
*Brightens up* But I do have Silken Sands 2012 Writers Conference to look forward to! Be sure to check often for updates. We’ll be adding editor and agent names for one-on-one pitches as they become available, as well as program titles and content info. See you there!
Kickoff speaker: Barbara Vey, of Publishers Weekly Keynote speaker: author Beverley Kendall http://www.gccrwa.com/silkensands