You may be aware that members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints* don't get married "'Till death do us part".
We marry for "Time and all eternity".
I'm realizing that eternity
is going to be a very long time...
*please don't confuse us with Warren Jeffs or any other Polygamist break-off sects. As much as I'd like my husband to have another wife (a window washer, a child minder, a cleaner-- and I'd pick the mud-ugly girl), he just has me. Lucky guy.
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Shhhhh. I have a secret.
Something really wonderful will happen next week.
Something exciting.
O.k., it's more so for me than for you, but It's my blog and I'll blab if I want to...
It's too soon to talk about it, so I am only going to drop a few hints for now...Remember you've been warned: You may not find this so fantastic, but I do.
Clue one:
(An Affair To Remember)
It began with a girl. And a book. And a paintbrush (kind of like a Lion, a Witch and a Wardrobe, but not so much so). And a Punjab noose. It began about 16 years ago.
I am a voracious reader. I will read cereal boxes and can labels if there's nothing with chapters nearby.
Once while in Art school, several of us were working our way through the exercises in The Artist's Way. About mid-way through the book, we were required to STOP READING (gasp!) for a predetermined amount of time. Supposedly, it allows your creative energies to flow through your art instead of being "wasted" just sitting around.
I couldn't do it.
There I was, sneaking reads like an alcoholic might sip cough syrup as her family slept.
This love affair crept up behind me. I never saw it coming.
One of the jobs I had while completing my degree was painting for the Housing Authority in our area. I did trim work mostly, and it was just the kind of job where my brain could rest from the heavy load I was carrying at N.A.U.
But I never have been able to just let my brain rest.
Clue 2:
That's a Gemini trait
While painting, I listened to books on tape (yes, TAPE).
And fell hard.
In an obsessive way.
And over the years, I've been feeding that obsession.
The first time was around Christmas after that painting job; again in June 1998 in Kansas City, Missouri and now, ten years later I am completing the novel-- ticking one of my "Things to do before I die".
Next week.
No, I am not dying next week (please try to keep up with my incoherent babbling, will you?).
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Miss Ky took her second tumble down the stairs in as many days. My boys have heard me
scream and watched me cry twice because of her. Yesterday, I saw her doing the head-over-heels kind of fall for the last three steps (I had been washing out a spice jar and heard what sounded like a tub of toys being tipped out on the stairs).Today's tumble was strange to watch. It was like watching a statue slide down the stairs--she was stiff, on her back and sliding head first to the bottom. Unfortunately being face up gave her the opportunity to see my terror as I screamed and ran to her. I scared her worse than the fall did I think.
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And did you catch this crazy news story? Some Russian people went away on holiday and came back to find their house gone. With everything in it. The city officials say they can't be bothered with trivial things like someone wanting to know why their house was scooped up. The police want papers to prove the house actually existed. And you thought your day was going badly...
