It has been an interesting weekend. First, it snowed. For some down here it was considered near blizzard conditions. Where I'm from it was a dusting. I officially tallied in with six and a half inches on my back deck. My mother, however, did get stuck in the blizzard they had in Rhode Island. They ended up with 18" in Providence and around 22" where she was staying with my cousins. She's been to the airport twice in two days trying to get a flight home. HA! The airplane gods have said, Fie on her, we don't actually know when she'll get a flight, hopefully by Wednesday. Mind you, she was supposed to come home yesterday. My father was not even the slightest bit worried until I said, "Well Pop, hopefully she'll be home by Christmas." And he said, "She's got two weeks." And I replied, "Uh, no, she's got four days." Needless to say, now he's panicking and all upset and will pitch a royal fit if she decides to fly anywhere for at least a year. (My mother is a jet setter extraordinaire.)
With the snow came adventures in sledding with the Small One. Believe me you don't want to see this 47 year old fat ass try and get down into a plastic sled. I almost tore out my knee and the mailbox in one fell fall. (Fell 'swoop' didn't quite fit.) I had to do two loads of HER laundry because of all the wet clothes. Who knew I'd ever need a snow suit down here. Or at least ski pants.
On Saturday after the fourth outing, she laid on the couch for a little nippy nap and whatever bug she caught from her last day of school finally manifested and I have spent the better part of two days washing the couch and pillows, bed sheets and bathroom floor from her bout with "The Porcelain Goddess." I'm sure you all know what I mean. There is nothing worse than looking at your child's face when she's pale as a ghost and can't keep anything down. Or in. She's as right as rain now, thank God, talking up a storm at six this morning, wanting to know if she can go outside and play. HA! It's going to take me three days to recover from her malady.
And in a round about way, this leads me to say, I haven't done a damn thing on any of my W'sIP. I truthfully don't think I'll get any time to do anything until she goes back to school. It's disheartening. I want time to work on them. I actually want to finish them. I'm sick of worrying when I'll be able to write, I want them DONE. I'm sick of writing them. The problem is, my biggest problem is, this is what I do...I start something, then I never finish it. My file cabinet is full of half empty manuscripts. I only have one finished and that needs so much revision work I'm afraid it'll sit in Word forever. It's a good story, it's just not marketable right now. I've revised it, I swear, 15 times, but I still need to cut 30K off. I know I have to move part of the backstory from the front to the middle and take out all, or most of, Richard's scenes. Ugh. I love Richard. He's the superhero of Book Three. And upon reading some blogs this weekend I have to make the decision whether or not to leave in the sex. The story doesn't really need it, but you know what they say, sex sells. Maybe. My Christmas wish is to find either an editor or agent who will tell me what to do. I know this will not be forthcoming but I can dream can't I?
Anyway, I'm sorry for rambling on about my life, this is not the place for it however if I don't write something down at least once a day I feel as if I'm slacking.
If I don't talk to you for the rest of the week, please enjoy a safe and happy holiday season.