Castle in the Clouds

While I was on vacation last week I missed the dinner party celebrating my 10th year at the University. Ten. Years. Dang! There are days when it feels much longer. A lifetime really. Then there are days when it seems impossible. How could ten years have slipped by without my noticing? Of course, this little delusion is quickly dispelled by the sight of my 9-year-old son, the child I became pregnant with shortly after landing my full-time, permanent position in the Communication Department. When he was born I had to take the 6-week maternity leave without pay because I hadn't put in enough time to qualify for a paid leave. Now look at me. Accruing vacation days. Using up sick time at alarming rates at the beginning of every flu season that hits the elementary school. Putting in my 40 hours and then some with the on-call hours I take each week. I get two rewards for my many years of service. The mother campus should be sending out a catalog for me to shop through, and my cam

That pretty much sums up my vacation last week. I took the boys RVing at nearby campground, one close enough to home that the hubby could still camp and go to work each day. He'd get up and shower, shave, and make his coffee at the crack of dawn and we'd blissfully sleep through it all. The kids let me sleep in almost every morning. It was lovely. The days were spent mostly at the beach. While the boys splashed along the shoreline of the private lake, I sat in my beach chair with a book in hand. Despite the constant monitoring, I managed to read one book in that chair. House of Bones , I believe was the title. Horror. Predictable but still enjoyable as I don't often read this particular genre. At least, not any more. It used to be a regular staple in my literary diet, but I've been sampling more and more of the SF/F buffet table lately. Of course, we didn't spend the entire week at the beach. I took my oldest boy to the tutor Monday night - he didn't do so wel

Last night was one of those rare evenings when I didn't have to rush from work to the daycare. The hubby had taken the day off to go golfing. Afterwards he decided to pick up the boys early and take them fishing on the Reservoir . This meant I didn't have to worry about being Mommy for a few hours. I could do whatever I wanted! I had to return some books I had borrowed from my mom. We visited for about an hour. Her garden may be small but it's already producing some veggies and fruit. Amazing. When she found out I was going to a bookstore to listen to some author-types, she said she'd ride along. We just had to wait for her daughter to return. Well, eventually the teenager returned and we were able to pack up and head over to the bookstore. I have to admit I was a bit hesitant when she told the girls to get their shoes on, but I figured they could browse the bookstore while we listened to the readings. It didn't quite work out that way. I'd never been

Really, I mean it. Life is pretty much work, sports, tutoring, and falling asleep way too late to get up when the alarm clock starts its annoying beeping at 5:10am. I have been writing, but the going is slow and I have nothing exciting to report. I have not been exercising. Or watching what I eat. (I think I may need shock therapy in order to get properly motivated!) See...I told you there wasn't much to report.

One of my favorite things to do while camping is to read. Just sitting in a comfy chair with plenty of leisure time, a paperback in hand, and something cold to drink within reach make for a perfect combo. Okay, so maybe some chocolate would really make for perfection. This weekend my reading plans were continually derailed, though. I may have managed to read about a hundred pages at the campground, which is not impressive by any means. It seemed every time I thought I had a few minutes to be blissfully indulgent of my litle reading obsession, I was mistaken. Today - the day we came home, mind you - I had about a half-hour of uninterupted time to myself. The hubby had taken the dog and the fishing boat home. The kids were on a boat ride with Uncle Troy and Aunt Ronnie. Then the kids returned. And if you have children, you know they always need SOMETHING. Like every five minutes. Still, I'm not complaining (much) because it was a great weekend. We went fishing and caught f

I really thought I was done with that particular scene. So, into the library I went with my laptop in tow, ready to move forward with the story. However, when I opened the WIP , I realized my characters weren't quite through with each other yet. The first half of the scene was told just from my heroine's POV : her senses, her emotions, her desires. After re-reading what I had written the time before, I realized it was just as important to incorporate the hero's POV into their first intimate exchange. This is life-changing for both of them, and the reader needs to truly see that. This means if I don't want to waste the opportunity to actually get some more words onto the page, I need to begin mid-way through the scene from his perspective. It was uncomfortable. Although I doubt anyone really noticed what I was working on (there weren't nearly as many people there this time), I still felt a bit self-conscious. But I got some more words. Not many, mind you. But more.

Ha! Bet that got your attention! But, it's not what you think. The hubby and I didn't shock all the patrons by stripping down and getting busy on the nearest table. I'm talking about the story I was working on during my weekly visit to the library. I believe I've mentioned before that I actually enjoy my nine-year-old's tutoring sessions at the library. During these hour and a half sessions I not only get to browse a huge collection of books, I also find the time to write. I probably make more progress on this one night a week than I do all the other days combined. Uninterrupted writing time. Pure bliss. Usually. Last night's time at the library wasn't quite so fruitful. I had been working my way slowly but steadily toward the book's first sex scene - remember, this is romance and sex tends to happen between healthy adults if the hormones and timing are right. Now I'm not writing erotica (this time), just straight-forward, romance-genre sex. So the

There's a picture of my little guy next to my strawberry patch. We're both very excited that the patch is doing so great. He makes a point of checking for newly ripe berries every night after we get home from the daily grind. A few days ago we had a few berries that were on the verge of being ready to eat. They looked something like this: Two days later I have a plentiful handful of berries. Of course, as you can see, a few of those have been lost to the bunny rabbits. (I can hear Elmer Fudd singing Kill da rabbit, kill da rabbit..) The three berries to the left there have been gouged by little rabbit teeth. The ones on the right miraculously survived the little furry fluff balls. If you've never grown your own strawberries or gone strawberry picking at a farm, you've never really tasted a strawberry. You can almost taste the sunshine and sweet, spring rain when you bite into one of these little darlings.

I'm on a roll. In the last 24 hours I have done two completely hare-brained things. First, yesterday morning before I left for work I was putting the finishing touches on a cup of chai and had to rinse my spoon. Once my travel mug was ready to go, I turned off the kitchen lights and closed the door behind me. Notice what I didn't shut off? That's right. The water. The tap water ran for 10 hours yesterday while the family was at work and school. So...0 for 1. Last night the kids had frozen meals for dinner. (Yes, we do believe in nutritious food but sometimes frozen food is a must.) I pulled said dinners from the oven, served the little people their food, and went on with my evening. Notice what I forgot to do here? You guessed it! I left the oven on all night long! So...0 for 2. Needless to say, hubby is not happy with me. There might have been a comment or two about the cost of electricity.