The Song Sings Itself

Mistakes are almost always of a sacred nature. Never try to correct them. On the contrary:
rationalize them, understand them thoroughly. After that,
it will be possible for you to sublimate them.

Yesterday was the anniversary of Salvador Dali’s birthday. I meant to post this entry last night, but I ran out of time. Conclave is finished and the last few contributors’ journals will be shipped off this afternoon, but I still feel like I have so many little loose ends to tie up before I can plunge headfirst into the next few projects.

Mark was in Germany last week, and during that time my son had a nasty virus. It was a long week and a bit lonely.

I usually treasure my time alone; I crave it most times. However days spent with a sick, cranky almost-five-year-old and high-energy almost-three-year-old isn’t quite alone time, and I do appreciate some adult interaction during the day–especially in times of stress and lack of sleep, especially over my first cup of coffee. That’s one of the rituals I miss most about working outside the home, in Academia and Corporate America; the morning coffee shared with coworkers is a much nicer way to ease into the day.

So, as much as I have not enjoyed the disruption brought on by construction in our home, last week I found myself wishing for my morning coffee with some of my favorite contractors. When they were around, I knew I could share a cup of coffee and have a quick chat with them before they started their work. I enjoyed hearing about their trades and their lives. I enjoyed starting my day with friendly natter.

On the plus side, I did write a short story last week that I envision as part of a larger collection. I won’t work on it in earnest until I finish S.C., but I have been jotting down copious notes in my Moleskine to keep the ideas fresh. It’ll be a fun project for the summer.

Speaking of summer, the kids only have three weeks until the end of the school year. I think we’ve decided to keep it simple and old-fashioned this summer. We’ll have a trip to Arizona and maybe Wisconsin, but I don’t plan to over-schedule the kids with camps and acitivities. We have this fabulous new yard, and I want us all to enjoy it, to have long summer days exploring, digging, planting, and climbing without worrying about schedules and early mornings.

When I was a kids, summers were about freedom: to play with the neighborhood kids, to read piles of books, to stay up later and sleep in, to watch cartoons I had missed during the school year. Summers were sprinkler-filled, carefree, and creative.

What are some of your most beloved childhood summer memories? I would love to hear them (you see, I’m drinking my morning coffee and pretending you’re here with me, at the kitchen table, chatting).

xxo

Still Catching Up…

I know that I promised a long post, and it’s still coming.

Kids return to school tomorrow, details about the Conclave Journal Release Party (April 30 at Book Cellar) are on the way, reminder about the benefit at Sanfilipo for the Literary Hall of Fame also coming, as is an update about Casa del Lobos, and more.

It’s been a busy week of cleaning, sorting, killing ants, proofing, rediscovering treasures, and playing in the yard.

I had a nice breakfast at Svea’s this morning with a friend I haven’t seen in far too long, and before that I had some interesting story ideas occur to me in the shower (which of course I couldn’t develop because I was on my way to breakfast and already running late…but I did jot them down).

I am looking forward to this week to work on promotional materials for the Conclave Release Party (Sweetheart Molly Robison will be performing! And several writers will be reading!) I also cannot wait to get back into the S.C. (next book, nearly finished).

OK. More soon, hopefully tonight.