I am back today after nine days of rest from blogging. It was kinda weird. I was able to pound out some blogs for a client while in the airport and they were way too long. I can tell when I don’t blog at all, I have way too much to download! Thus, I’m happy to be back.
In the past nine days I’ve been to the east coast and back, lost my luggage, had four cups of mint tea to calm my stomach (jet lag is the worst when you hop over and then 36 hours later, skip back), partied with my sis, celebrated hubby’s birthday (today!) and our buddy A’s birthday, thought we had a new puppy (we don’t; it was a joke), tried to sleep through fourth of July fireworks displays going off all around us, got my eyebrows done twice (stupid growth serum makes them all crazy), and grabbed a few last-minute books before going on a six-month no spendy that technically started July 1.
Oh and had several cups of Boston clam chowder, which is almost as good as Maine’s, although not quite. We ate at the Charter House, a very old building on the edge of a very expensive marina in Boston’s Back Bay, around the corner from the USS Constitution and the site of the Boston Tea Party. I saw the church where Paul Revere hung his lantern as well. Very amazing. What a gorgeous city. I’ll definitely be heading back as soon as possible. I just don’t want to take another cab. Thirty dollars to go 4 miles! Crazy spendy.
But the delays on the way home enabled me to read a lot and to watch Fool’s Gold (a waste of my brain power, I assure you) on one flight, which helped me in my novel work. I got ahold of Gail Godwin’s writing journals and once again realized how long it takes to incubate a novel. This may take me years or more. I need to not be in such a hurry and let it just flow.
I push too much and thus lose sight of life as it is unfolding. Look, there it goes. I am not changing any habits because of that realization, but I am going to be more careful about how much I push. As a good friend said, if you’re pushing, you’re usually trying to force it. I think Frances Mayes learned that in Italy too. Only her lesson was ladybugs.
Off to my day.
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