Southern Woman on the Skids

 Today was busy. We had a call with the finance guy. Bless him. I also dug in and built a website. The blog will now live in a sweet little house I built myself. www.hunnihoundbooks.com. It's a work in progress. Like my writing. And me clearly. But I got it done. And now people can hire me to write things for them. or about them. Or about their enemies. Which could be fun.  So here I am, sitting in front of a computer screen, asking strangers to hire me. Or just subscribe to the blog and read about my weed garden. Both are good. Tomorrow more about Heather.

  Today was a good day. It was a day that I thought maybe not much would get done, and then things did get done. We sort of just went with the current today. It was nice. There is so much tending that needs done in this stage of my life. Tending to a new marriage, aging parents, friends with aging parents, kids, more kids, very small kids. And me. I was watching my birds and weed flowers this morning and thinking I was happy. I was content. I wanted a wild lovely garden, Intended it how I could, and it bloomed for me. I didn’t hire anyone to design something manicured, my family helped some and I did some. and it’s grown to be just wild enough and so beautiful. It’s the perfect garden for me. So Insat on the swing and thought I think we can do a few things. I asked for a little help. Some things didn’t get too far, some things got further. But we ended the day with a tended to house, and spending some sweet time with the kids.  I know my garden will change, some flowers will d...

  I have gotten to where I write these later and later in the day. I have to shuffle through my moments to try and find a memory or a moment that might be interesting to mull over again and again. So today I will talk about pies. I love pie. It’s something that Inalways wanted to master, like gardening or being well groomed. For a while I got pretty good and somewhat pudgy. But I put the pies away. I was busy doing other things like falling in love and cultivating weeds and writing books. But today while Charlie sat on the floor reading Weldon a book, I saw a recipe for pie and I got nostalgic for it. I am still pudgy, but my husband likes it that way, so perhaps pies need to make a comeback. What a nice writing discipline. If I get a chapter done, I will make the crust. Next chapter, filling. Then, at the end of the day, after all my hard work I have a delicious treat to celebrate.  I also have started working on building a dollhouse. But they don’t taste as good.  So p...

  I am twelve pages into writing my new spooky middle grade, so I went to the library with Welles today to hunt for some comparable books. I got to talking with the children's librarian while I was there. She is wonderful, and we always share hellos when I run in with Charlie. She laughs at me as I walk up and down the stacks, oohing and ahhing at all the books I want to read Charlie or simply reread myself.  So there we are in the children's section, Welles fussing in my arms. She was standing there with a stack of haunted house books for me, and we got to talking about writing.  “Oh, I'm not a writer.” She shook her head. “Listen,” I said, “You are surrounded by all these books! You read all these books!  You must be a writer!” “No, really,” she said. “I'm a reader. Writing doesn't excite me like it does you.”  That stuck with me. Because imposter syndrome is real, I kind of feel silly when I say I am a writer. I don’t make money writing. I have never had anyt...

  I love mornings. I wake up with the baby, have coffee, write, check the porch to see what the cat dragged in. It’s lovely really.  But today I woke up feeling dizzy. That happens to me. I don’t think I have a brain tumor. I think I have weird ears that like to mess with me. My dad has it too. I remember days when he would stumble and curse and tell mom how dizzy he felt and how miserable it was. So, I have dizzy days too now. And it’s disorienting and stressful. On dizzy days, I can see all my activity in a trail behind me. Open cabinets and drawers, food prep still layed out, it’s like a tornado has been through the house. I am so focused on whatever activity that I am doing, but my brain won’t let me do it quite right. I’m too focused on trying to balance and succeed at my objective, that little things like shutting cabinet doors are of less consequence. It’s wearing. It makes me exhausted physically and emotionally. And then it fades and I can breathe again.  I guess...

I am on to the next book while the first is passed around from husband to kid to friend to neighbor to editor. And this next one is scary. I mean scary to my twelve year old self, who is the only one who really matters at this point. I started it last night and woke up with all the ideas. I decided to just pile it on. Put everything in there. All the things I want. Old somewhat creepy house? Check. Hidden old cemetery in the backyard? Check. Secret passageway uncovered by your heroine? Check. Stray dog rescued from under the porch? Check. I keep wanting to apologize to my poor 13 year old main character for what she’s about to go through. But then I think, I wanna be in a creepy old house with a secret passageway and a dog. And I keep writing.  And it’s getting creepy. And I wonder where it’s going to go. And if there will be a happy ending. Or not.

  The summer can be strange. Days bleed together. You sleep in but feel still drained and sleepy all day. It’s generally hot and muggy so you stay in but try to avoid watching too much TV. It’s like an alternate universe with no real foundation. But then there are those days when everything sort of falls into place. The weather is right, the baby naps perfectly, and your sister calls to say she’s buying groceries to grill out. Then, by some summertime alternate universe miracle, you find a never opened Slip n Slide in the garage. So the gang all comes over. You have that “school’s out” excitement you felt as a kid. The house is clean. The kids are happy to play together, your son and your sister talk business so you and your husband don't have to. It’s perfect. Then we pack it in, clean up the mess and have movie night. Not every summer day will be like this, but some will. And I will savor every moment.