It’s been awhile. Since I made my last blog post I’ve gotten married, moved, and the world shut down.
So did I.
It’s hard to know where to begin, so let me start with something happy. In August 2019, on a hot summer night, Jim and I eloped. In retrospect, our families expected it, and are happy for us. We had a quiet ceremony at a beautiful B&B on the eastern shore of Maryland. It was just the two of us professing to love and cherish each other. We had a private dinner with a little wedding cake for dessert. The next morning we enjoyed breakfast and, with the good wishes of the innkeeper, were on our way to the airport. With Kailua-Kona, Hawaii as our destination, we made it a two-day trip, stopping for the night to enjoy San Francisco. One week in paradise swimming with sea turtles and other aquatic life. The water in the private lagoon where we swam was crystal clear, enabling us to see sea urchins, zebrafish, and angelfish. When we returned, we made what we thought would be a temporary move. It’s turned out to be nearly a year, because … well, Covid.
Forward to June 2021. We are doing well, have had both shots (Yes, I know the controversy. No, I don’t explain my choice.), and are hopeful that the world will soon be returning to normal. The house that was supposed to be vacant in November 2020, was never vacated. The tenants decided to stay, and they also opted to stop paying their lease payments. As of today, we again have possession of the property that we plan to clean up and put on the market. (Keep your fingers crossed for us. The market is trending well at the moment. 🙂
It’s been hard to write these past six years but family first. I didn’t put out as many stories as I had planned. Since 2016 when Mike was diagnosed I wrote as much as I was able (writing has always been an escape for me) to stay active in the book world but, let’s be real here, for me, family is the priority. I tried to keep my mind busy (which keeps me sane) but, at the end of the day, I beat myself up because I only wrote six stories in six years.
Did you catch that word “only?”
It took me two years of therapy and a class designed for writers based on their strengths to catch that word and how I used it to beat myself up. So, let’s rewind, and let me say that a different way. I wrote six stories through my husband’s cancer treatment, death, a life insurance company finding a loophole, tension in treasured relationships, moving from my family home, pursuing a relationship with someone who made me laugh through my tears, marrying again, Covid, and tenants who put me through hell. It took some wonderful people in my life to point out that six stories, through all of that, should be a source of pride, not chastisement.
Since we rewound in the last paragraph, let’s fast forward to the present. What’s next?
I’m taking the summer of 2021 to reset. I need to get the house on the market and sold. I have two more classes to take in June, an online conference in July, and I plan to spend August 2021 in much the same way I did when in high school—on the beach. I have a stack of paperbacks just begging for me to dog-ear pages (don’t judge!) and will be unplugging from social media. My imagination is re-engaging and ideas are pelting me faster than a gun filled with paintballs. The stories I’m thinking of writing are new and exciting territory for me and I can’t wait to share them. There’s some other news associated with my writing life. I’ll sit on that info for just a bit, but I promise, it’s all good.
Till next time, have a GREAT summer!