I have a good friend who teaches at a very small, rural school. This school has every grade from kindergarten on up, and she teaches seven art classes to all these children. As you can imagine, supplies are always hard to come by, and more often than should happen, they come out of her pocket. Lately, she’s resorted to having kids bring in cardboard boxes for them to cut up to make dioramas, empty milk jugs for them to paint ghost faces on for luminaires. She had to stop making the dioramas because they ran out of hot glue sticks and paste glue sticks. Read the rest of this entry »
My giveaway is ongoing, too! For a chance to win a free Night Falls story, enter here: Coming Tuesday…
My Lazy Sunday
typewriter keyboard in retro style
This morning, I rose at 6:00 AM, late for me, actually, since most mornings I’m up between 4:30 and 5:30. The extra half hour was nice.
I didn’t have to make breakfast for the house. That was nice, too. So, I reviewed my email, updated a couple of my work/schedule charts, then started editing.
No new words, today, so that’s a bit of a break, too.
Since my dd and my SIL are doing yard-work at my place this morning, I packed my laptop and headed across the street to her place to baby-sit the little ones while their parents work. They are watching Jurassic World, and not asking for my attention, which I usually give in spades, so a break again. I can complete this blog, and then head back into edits.
I hope to close down when their parents come and enjoy a blissfully aimless afternoon. We’ll see.
My issue is I’m a writer. I work from home, so I never escape my work. Ever. And that’s how I like it. I chose this life. I don’t have a job as a ______ (FILL IN THE BLANK). I am a writer/editor/teacher of writers. My work is never done.
Kind of like being a mom, huh? We work from dawn to dusk—and beyond. I wouldn’t chose another life, would you? But if you do crave the occasional, REAL break from work, how do you manage it? I’d really love to  know… 🙂
Maybe life is glamorous for other writers, but for me, it’s work, work, work, work, work… Kind of like the song Rihanna sings, but without the sexy clothes or Drake reaching for my goodies. *sigh*
Today, for instance, began with some editing. I broke around 10 AM to conduct a live chat with my plotting bootcamp, then it was back to editing. Around 4 PM, I broke again, because my dd and I had promised to meet a friend for dinner. When we returned home, we had little girls in tow, so we spent an hour in the art work room, trying to keep them out of paint and ink, while we doodled with projects. When my dd left, I went back to editing. Then I remembered, oh yeah, my blog. Gah.
And writing? Grrrrr… I have to finish this project for another author before I can even turn my attention to my own words. Don’t get me wrong, I like editing. It gets me out of my own world. I don’t have time to read for pleasure, so editing equals guilty pleasure + income, so I rarely complain. It’s just that I’m running behind schedule, and I hate being late, but there’s only one me…
So, if you’re bouncing around websites while you break, and happen to come across this post, let me know I’m not the only one work, work, work, working on a Saturday night.
I escaped my desk for most of the day today. Totally ignored my schedule. We’ve had workers underfoot replacing our furnace and AC. I skipped out to sit in my dd’s AC when I could, sat with a fan blowing across me when I had to be here. Not a productive day, and when I’m melting, I’m not particularly clever. Never mind the work crew had a couple of cuties. NOTHING could distract me from my discomfort. Tomorrow, they’ll be back in the early morning to finish up the second day of the installation, so I’m wondering if you all have any advice for how to keep cool when the AC is off!!
Also, remember yesterday’s scavenger hunt is still ongoing!! Be sure to enter! ~DD
This morning, I headed to my dd’s house for my morning cup of joe. I love to hit her right when she’s got the kids scrambling to get ready for the bus.
“I don’t want to wear a pink bow!” the 5-year-old yells, and then she runs to get the “perfect bow”—a gargantuan blue blow that makes her look like a cartoon character, but hey, she’s happy.
“Lala, you’re going to be late!”
“I’m not finished braiding my hair!”
“J, have you brushed your teeth?”
By the time they’re walking down the long drive to meet the bus, I’m sitting back, sipping on my coffee, and secretly laughing my ass off, because I didn’t have to do squat—been there, done that.
My dd comes back from seeing the little one up the bus steps and says, “Hey, before you go back to your office, wanna watch Deadpool 2?”
Of course, I was in. I LOVE superhero movies. She wanted to pre-screen it before she decided if any of the kids could watch it, because we saw the first one, and Ryan Reynolds has a potty mouth (not that I mind that so much—I prefer kids being exposed to bad words and a little flesh as opposed to violence, blood, and guts). So, we settled in to watch.
Just to update for those of you who’ve been worried, my dad came through his surgery. He’s in pain, of course, but already feeling grumpy and ornery, so that’s good news, too. 🙂 Despite all the dire “news” the nurses gave us about what exactly was going to happen to him in surgery, the doctor (who we met five minutes before dad went back) told us it was going to be an easy, 30-minute procedure to put some screws into his bone to support that broken femoral neck. Easy-peasy. And it was. He’ll have rehab, and we’ll force some adjustments once he comes home to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself again, but all’s good.
I’m posting this late. Today’s been a bit of a whirlwind.
My dad, whose picture with me I’m sharing above, fell outside and broke his hip—or his femoral neck, to be more specific. He went out to weed-eat, because he likes to putter and do things for himself, but he fell and hurt himself. I found him fifteen minutes later, called my dd, because I couldn’t move him. Why didn’t we call an ambulance? 1–dad didn’t want one; 2–we live in a rural area, and our volunteer fire department would have answered that call (nuff said); and 3–my dd’s had some training, so I wasn’t worried she’d hurt him when she moved him. And in the end, she had him in the car, without a lot of pain, inside five minutes.
The local hospital took pictures and confirmed he’d broken his hip, loaded him into an ambulance and shipped him to Little Rock. Mom and I went home and packed and high-tailed it to the city, where we’re staying now. His surgery is tomorrow, shortly after noon. I’d appreciate your prayers and good thoughts.He’s over 80, has diabetes, is on dialysis, has heart disease. He’s a tough man, an Air Force veteran/retiree, and we just plain don’t want to lose him. And he’s not ready—not by the amount of fuss he gave us about getting our own rest today. 🙂
Oh, and that picture was from my 60th birthday party in June. Dad loved the picture props.
