I’m worried about being about to find bathrooms in Rome. D is worried about flying in a plane made by Boeing. Ken’s worried about the couple of hours between when we leave and when the dog sitter arrives.
Because someone’s staying here in the house, I’ll probably post pictures throughout the week.
See you on the other side!
When you wake a little after five, you might find yourself at a farm in Lincoln before the store opens.
Lunch later will make you happy.
A new fence will explain why they tore all the plantings out at a nearby property three weeks ago and also underscore your new name for Thompsonville: Jackhammerville.
You send off your manuscript to the designer who wants to read it (not necessary, but how nice!) and decide to scan a bit and are shocked to find not one or two but three typos in your reading session.
You also might be reminded of how hard you worked and how it shows in the writing.
Is that my sister? Still hanging around?
If you look closely, you can spy the back of a turkey just beyond our window.
Seeing turkeys is not unusual around here. In fact, we see them often.
But this one was alone, which is a little unusual, and more to the spooky point about appearances from the dead, this one showed up right after I’d run through a couple of internal questions about my sister.
My sister, as you know, died in 2019. In the immediate aftermath of her passing I asked for some sign of her (as one does) and what appeared was a lone turkey in a tree top just up the street. It was so startling, I blogged about it: Signs, March 31, 2019.
In the hour prior to this present day bird’s appearance, I’d been doing a silly exercise — posing yes/no questions before a solitaire game and reading a win as a “yes” and a loss as a “no.” Am I the only one who indulges in low-key divination attempts like this?
Anyway, first I asked: Is Noreen still around?
Yes. (But I knew this). See posts about shattered Pyrex here. The painting falling like a guillotine in Los Angeles, here.
Second, I asked: Do I need to ask her to leave?
Also, Yes.
Well then!
We leave for Rome on Monday. The last time I traveled there was right after my sister died. There had been a mad dash to empty her apartment and square her finances before boarding a plane. I wasn’t panicked about time but it wasn’t exactly cathartic either. Friends helped.
I wonder if that’s part of why she is on my mind today.
I’m allowing myself to imagine what that might feel like. Breathing. Combine that with getting a book 12 or more years in the making out (this summer, I hope) and I may not recognize myself. Burdens set down.
Because a friend was in town for the Tuesday writing workshop yesterday, I rearranged the furniture in my little writing space. I’m gonna leave it this was for now.
Rain’s spattering on the skylight and Finn is relaxing nearby. Sigh, he sighs. Sigh, I sigh. Sometimes things are simple and simply good.
A few more wacky novel cover ideas follow.
Flapping sheet photo is from recognizable ad campaign, so that’s an issue.
Enough writers enrolled for the fundraising workshop that I’m hosting on May 24, Bringing the Body to the Page, for it to be a go. (Fundraising for Amherst Writers and Artists). There is still room if you’re interested. 10 – 12. It’s a Friday.
Looking at these photos that I took of the birch out back this morning caused me to ask, who says the body has to be yours, or even human? That trunk has stories to tell!
I’m clearing out the freezer a little by making stock — using up stowed chicken carcasses and vegetable bits.
Now I’m off to straighten one of the boys’ bedrooms for the dog sitter. Funny how they become like closets, those vacated bedrooms.
