Southern Woman on the Skids

  The weather is changing next week. It needs to change. We have been stuck in the heat in our house for too long. We need a breath of fresh air. We need to enjoy some mundane joy.  But it will change. It always does. I was driving to see Rob at the hospital today and I got to thinking about Thanksgivings when I was a kid. My aunt Carolyn had the big meal house. The one where there was room for all the people. Space to run.  When you are little and it’s cool outside and there is good food and everyone is happy, things seem possible. Anything can happen. Then you grow up and anything does happen.  It breaks you apart.  Things are bleak at the moment. There is no more hopeful rope to cling to. There is just life to live. So I think I have to let go of some things and just accept others. I have to see the hope in the little things; watching Rob with the kids; knowing I have old friends who love me and my little bookshop.  Things will change. Thanksgiving is almost here. It will be cool ou

Sometimes life tries that tablecloth trick. the one where someone yanks the tablecloth off the table and miraculously everything stays right where it was. Or it doesn’t and shit goes everywhere. That’s what’s happening right now. I’m in the hospital waiting room while Rob is being prepped for spinal surgery.  The weather has changed. That’s a relief. So maybe with the winds changing life will release the death grip it’s had on everyone’s neck. My sister was talking to me last night. Trying to keep me calm.  “Everyone is in the shit right now.” She told me.  Sick kids, Mom drifting away, hospital stays, you name it, we have faced it down over the last few months. This week had one of those little miracles. Those split seconds of hope.  I’ll take what I can get.  I was at Target. Gathering supplies for thenext week while Rob is in the hospital. I opened my email.  Dear Megan,  Thank you for sharing BOOK CHAPTERS with us. Could you send us the complete manuscript? And let us know if any o