Southern Woman on the Skids

  I’m someone who can take a tiny snowflake of good news and make it into a snow day. That’s a good thing. As a writer I think I have to take all the good and bright things and cherish them when I can. There are a few things floating around that may give us reason for real celebration. Things for family, work, and home. They may come to pass and they may not. But this time in between is pure hope. Hope for all the things that are possible. All that we are working for may start to slowly unfold. And if they don’t, maybe they will give us the staying power we need to keep striving. Knowing there are more bright shining moments ahead. 

  We have Covid again. It got all of us and we are miserable. But I am home with all the girls and while we all sniffle, we sit in Weldon’s room, Daisy asleep and snoring on my chest, talking about Halloween costumes. We make pancakes that Weldon feeds to the dogs and I ignore the dishes. Ziggy is healthy so rushes out the door telling me of plans he has for the weekend that. As he walks away I squeeze Daisy a bit and take in the chatter and fussy noises of the house. Knowing it will be quiet again before I know it. 

  Sometimes I get sea sick. Not really sea sick. I’ve never really been in a boat long enough to actually get sea sick. But I feel like I have been on a boat for the past several months and I’m wobbling around trying to get back on real footing. Two under two. Rob back at work. A senior in high school. A tween that is torn between childhood and growing up. And then me. Trying to find out what I need to be doing next. I have applied for 1245 jobs and 10 internships. Yes. Internships. I may be 47 but I’m not proud. It’s not that I’m desperately searching for myself or anything. I know who I am. I am a mom. A struggling writer. I own a little online bookshop that I work on with my daughter. But for some reason I feel drawn to this hunt. Sometimes I get little nuggets. My favorite agent is looking for someone to help with manuscripts. Perfect! I applied. Then I envision myself, cup of coffee in hand, sleeping baby by my side. Flipping through manuscripts and finding beautiful books that I