Accepting the Limits of My Passion for Writing

Hello All, seven weeks have passed since I posted about the Minnesota four-season porch I was missing here in Missouri. Since that time, I’ve twice posted a short note about my health and tiredness. Today, I’m “getting back in the saddle” and beginning my regular Sunday postings again.

To sum up the past seven weeks: I had problems with Meniere’s disease, with an arthritic flare-up, and with a virus. Also, I went on vacation to Idaho and enjoyed eight days with the four children who call me “Grandma Dee” ever since their Mom adopted me as her grandmother.

During those days, we drove to Yellowstone—my first time there. I so enjoyed seeing the painted pots, the geysers, and the wild life. A bison, leisurely rambling on the road amidst a long line of cars, stroll right pass the driver’s window of the car we were in. I now know what “up close and personal” means with regard to bisons.

I came home from Idaho exhausted. Engaging in conversations with young people—8, 10, 14, and 16—as well as two adults is fun-filled, but also tiring. The evidence is all in now: I am officially a recluse.

Having returned home weary, I decided to take the rest of August off. I’d worked hard on my writing for five months: March=getting the memoir published; April, May, June, and July= completing the novel The Reluctant Spy by polishing a final draft and copyediting/reading it for mechanical errors. I’m not going to self-publish that novel until next spring, but I had to finish it—it felt sort of like “washing my hands of it”—so as to write the second book in the Bastet-Net Cat Fantasy series.

I hope to publish the first book in the Bastet-Net trilogy this November; the second book will be published in November of 2019; and the third and final book in November of 2020.  That is, of course, if my health permits. I live in expectation!

For the next three months—September through November—I hope to complete books 2 and 3 of the trilogy. If all goes well with the writing and my health remains harmonious, I’ll then take the month of December off to enjoy Advent and the holidays.

All this planning comes out of this vacation month of August. I’m finally—at age 82—accepting that I simply can’t do what I used to do with my writing. I’m letting go of the image I have of myself as a “steamroller” that just keeps smoothing out all the bumps in the road ahead. Maybe it’s that I’m no longer the little engine that could. Instead I’ve become the little engine on the level track of a child’s playground.

So my hope, now that I’ve realistically considered what I’d like to write and self-publish and what my energy level now permits, is to write three months and then take the fourth month off to recoup. And to do that as many years as possible during this decade of my eighties.

That would deeply content me. It would motivate me to exercise and do yoga; get at least eight hours of sleep a night; and eat nutritiously because only if I take care of my body will I be able to embrace my passion of writing. I need to be healthy to sit at the computer and write.

I so hope that my eyesight will permit me to follow my bliss. I trust that “all shall be well. And all shall be well. And all manner of things shall be exceedingly well” as Julian of Norwich said.

Just as I trust that writing this blog and keeping in touch with all of you and your lives will enrich my own and keep me centered. Thank you.

Peace.

Photograph from Wikipedia.

A Brief Update

Hello All, it's been several weeks since I've posted and much has happened. My Meniere's went on for several days and then got better. That enabled me to use my ticket to fly to Idaho for a vacation with a family that has adopted me as a grandmother. Quite wonderful for me.

I stayed there 10 days and came home exhausted. It is so true that what one did when younger is no longer possible when one reaches her eighties. I rested for nearly a week, sleeping 9 to 10 hours each night.

Then the rain began here and an arthritic flare-up occurred in my back. When I had the back surgery in March 2017, he back surgeon told me that he could do nothing in the operation about my very serious arthritis. Thus, this flair-up wasn't unexpected. It lasted for an entire week with me keening and moaning and walking around like an old crone! Stiff like cardboard! Hardly able to bend over and feed the cats. Only today do I feel equal to getting things done in my home without pain.

During that time, I also got a virus that meant diarrhea and upset stomach plus the headaches. So this has been a difficult time. I do hope to return to my Sunday blogging in the next couple of weeks. I want to do my part to keep our blogging community enlivened with the stories of our lives.

I want to write AND I want to read about what is happening in your lives. I hope to catch up soon. Thank you for stopping by and checking on me. 

Peace.

Photo from Wikipedia.

Taking a Sunday off

Hello All, I wanted to share with you my porch decision and how I came to it and how freeing that has been, but today is a Meniere's day--headache, wooziness, imbalance, dizziness--and so using the computer for even a few minutes (like now) demands a concentration that is very tiring.

This week I will be working on my novel that I hope to publish in September, but I do hope to post next Sunday. Take care. Be gracious to yourselves. And know that you are thought of fondly by this cat-loving, elderly woman who is grateful for the gift of your presence in her life. Peace.

A Dream of a Stillwater Porch

Today I’m sharing with you the background for three recent decisions I made, beginning on Sunday July 1. In this posting I’ll set the scene. Next Sunday, I hope to share the decisions.

I lived in a lovely 1870 lumberjack home in Stillwater, Minnesota, for 32 of the 39 years I lived in that northern state with its blizzards and wind chill. The home had a screened-in, side porch, off the kitchen, that had been built in 1910. Nothing had been done to it since then.

That porch became my favorite part of the house. The cats with whom I lived loved it too. They’d bask in the sun while lying on the ledge where the single-pane glass windows met the non-insulated three-foot-high wall, which sat atop a concrete slab that let in rain water and melting snow. Of course, during the winter, the porch became a deep freeze. No sitting or basking then.

I’d spend my time on the porch, reading, writing, visiting with friends and neighbors, holding a cat or two, or simply looking out the screened windows to the perennial gardens beyond. It was a place of conversation and also of retreat.

 The 1910 screened-in porch with the side perennial garden, the driveway, and the garage.

In 2001, I was finally able—financially—to hire a contractor to turn the porch into a four-season one. Within a short time, it boasted modern windows that kept out the heat in summer but retained the inner heat in winter; a heating-and-air-conditioning unit; a new concrete slab that wasn’t cracked and on which the insulated walls fitted snugly; and a lovely color of paint called "Bee's Honey." 

That porch simply delighted me. It was as if it had arms it could put around me—to comfort when I was in the throes of Meniere’s Disease. To listen attentively when I visited with friends there. To inspire my writing. To calm my soul when the vicissitudes of life threatened my inner peace and left me feeling adrift.

I lived in that home—with that welcoming four-season porch—for eight more years after the contractor completed the work: from September 2001 to June 2009. At that point I moved here to Missouri. I now live in a one-story home that pleases me in every way but one.

That one thing that needs change is the southern-facing patio that is attached to the living room. I go out onto it from glass sliding doors. It has a concrete slab and a roof held up by three pillars. My porch furniture from Stillwater fits there.

However, the weather is so hot and humid here and the bugs so plentiful that I spend little time there during the summer. And, of course, I cannot use it during the winter. Spring and fall are the patio’s seasons but with climate change even those times tend to be problematic temperature- and weather-wise.

When I first moved here, I thought of turning that patio into a four-season porch similar to the space I’d enjoyed in Stillwater. However, money was tight and rather soon after moving I began to have a series of physical problems that sapped my energy and preoccupied my thoughts. Necessarily, I let go of my yearning for a porch on which I might sit with the cats and enjoy the morning bird song and the apricot sunsets of Missouri.

Then in 2013, my health improved; a friend and I visited seven showrooms to get an idea of what a four-season porch would cost here in Missouri. Rather soon after that, however, my health declined again. I had to deal with cancer, Glaucoma and near loss of vision, and a serious back operation. That brings me to July 1, 2018. Next week I'll share what happened then.

Peace.