Today's Victory

I found an editor! 

Now to pop some Tylenol arthritis, slip on compression gloves, and get into the writing zone. 

 

Check out the New Century

I just reordered checks. Why? Because the 21st century hasn't caught up to some places around here. 

The City of Wake Village needs a check for the water bill. My bill arrives sometime between the first and the seventh of the month. The water bill is due by the tenth--no excuses. The City of Wake Village refuses to allow for payment via their web site. If I have a check sent from the bank, it will arrive late and then there's a $50 fee they add to my $50 water bill--okay, the bill is only $50 in the winter. Still! It's a nice little racket the city has going.   

My lawn guy only takes checks or a cash app (I don't "cashap"). He does not want a check sent from my bank either. He wants payment the day of service. 

Bowie County will take a check for the property taxes. Or, I can pay a $50 service fee to have them take the money from my debit card. 

By the way, I'm paying property taxes today. I have two checks left. One for Bowie County and one for the City of Wake Village. 

 

The Shreveport Rose Garden

Recently, my Master Gardener pals Maria and Joy (The same Joy who was the first person I got to know three years ago--she's now a Master Gardener), took a trip to Shreveport to check out their rose garden. Warning! Get three plant nerds together and prepare to have your eyes glaze over.  

The place was wonderful and displayed several kinds of roses. We meandered the trails oohing and ahhing, snapping pictures, identifying different roses on our plant apps, while inhaling the fragrance. Every once in a while one of us would point out something like the color or petal variation while the other two stood around fascinated. Now then, I'm not saying that while standing next to the Ragosa rose, someone knelt down, dug her hands into the Earth and pulled out a teensy runner from the root and ordered me to open my purse so she could take it home. But it could have happened. 

The Shreveport rose garden--it has an official name, I'm sure--also has an herb garden run by the Arklatex Herb Society. It just so happens the President of the Arklatex Herb Society happened to be there weeding and planting in their patch of goodness. So the three of us snacked on various kinds of mint, cilantro, sage, dill, oregano, more mint, and basil while chatting with the nice lady about herbs. Plant nerds do such things. Now then, I'm not saying there was a stack of cilantro pulled out by the roots ready to be composted, but if there was, it is quite likely we grabbed several, rushed into the restroom, covered the roots in wet paper towels and took those plants home with us. 

Afterwards, the three of us vainly attempted to find an authentic Mexican restaurant. In Shreveport, Louisiana. Yes. Really.  

Given Maria is from Mexico and Joy and I are from Phoenix, we settled for Louisiana's gallant attempt at South of the Mason-Dixon line flavors instead. I had something with chicken smothered in Velveeta--which is not what the menu described, but whatever. I knew better than to order anything other than water. 

I took about 987 pictures. Here's four of them. 

This is a Cosmo Cloud, the most fragrant of the fragrant roses I've ever smelled. 
Oh my!

I'm going to find an Evergreen rose bush, and then locate
somewhere in my garden to put one. 

I'd like to point out, this rose bush has three different color roses. On the same bush! Squee! We were freakishly giddy over this discovery (as well as every other rose garden discovery).

Joy, smelling a rose. 

Birthday Month

The portulaca Corona Gillian gave me. 

Lots of wonderful folks in these parts helped me remember I had a birthday this month. 

A few weeks ago, Corona Gillian accidentally spilled that Deb, the Queen of the Coronas, was throwing a surprise party for me. Bless them both and thank you Gillian for the fair warning. The Coronas are such a wonderful group of women. They are all so thoughtful, loving and kind. Most of the time I wonder why they put up with me, while also wondering when they are going to figure out what a fraud I truly am. I'm ashamed to admit my gifts are still stacked beside my desk, awaiting thank you notes. I'm promising myself they WILL be written today!!!! 

In addition to my surprise party, the coordinator of the Thursday Lunch Bunch insists on celebrating everyone's birthday. And because she's a Corona, she knew I'd recently made it another year around the sun. Honestly, I didn't want the fuss--plus I was hip-deep in typing and stopping, getting dressed, leaving the house and eating tends to be an inconvenience. But Corona Jenny insisted I pick a restaurant and tell her my favorite flavor of cupcake. I picked a pizza joint and I don't care for cake much, so any flavor worked because I wasn't eating it anyway. 

One of my stipulations for my Lunch Bunch birthday was no gifts. But I know this crew: that wasn't going to be an option. So, I asked for donations for a foster care charity run by the Church of Christ. That idea turned out to be a winner! I raised $180. A couple of days ago I got a nice note from the man who runs the charity, thanking me and telling me how the money was used. Squee! Win-win. I suspect more Lunch Bunch folks are going to do this in the future. 

There were other celebrations as well. My family loved all over me  and gave me a few more absolutely necessary garden whirly-gigs. Polly made a delicious blueberry coffee cake (not the same as the Lunch Bunch Wal-Mart cupcakes). Friends and brothers called from other parts of the country. And I am officially birthdayed out for another year. 

Book Update

A writer's friend: compression gloves. 
I own several pairs. 

Other than playing with plants--I do that a lot--I've spent quite a bit of time writing staring at my computer screen. Not fair. About two chapters a week flow out of my fingers when my hand isn't too swollen. 

After careful discernment, I've opted to go a different direction with the editor I originally hired. My gut screamed she wasn't the right fit for this story. Two weeks ago, I wrote her asking if she'd be willing to take on a different role in this project. I outlined exactly what I'd like. Incidentally, it would have been less work and the same money. However, I haven't heard back. That alone tells me I made the right choice.

It's really too bad, because I think she was the right fit for my young adult novel (already completed) and another story I'm working on that is more secular. When I met with her earlier this month, I suspected the idea of my main character offended her. He's a priest. That's his value system (just like if my main character were a vampire, he'd do vampiry things based on his value system). This book won't have the same religious undertones as the last one, but my main character is still a priest. 

By the way, I recently discovered Tylenol Arthritis. Pop two of those bad boys, rub CBD ointment all over my hands and I'm good to go for about 2,000 words. I'm got about six chapters left to write before I need to start figuring out the editing process. So, here's hoping a solution falls in my lap. 

Writer's Blockage

It is 3:23 a.m. Luna has taken my spot on the bed. Again. That's okay. I was awake. I'm probably not going to sleep well-ish until I'm done with my latest project. 

My current goal is to finish my manuscript by next Wednesday. Head out of town, read and review it when I get back, and give it to my editor by our prescribed deadline. However, as it was once pointed out to me, no battleplan outlives the enemy. 

In addition to a needy dog, I have other humans in my home who like me enough to demand my time. My mom has some significant drama which requires a bit of attention and sympathy. I have a garden to finish up--and let me just say this, SQUEE! It's looking better. Also, I have an out of town trip tomorrow, something I planned a month ago. I'm leading it. So, yeah... I guess it's happening. And, its Birthday Month(TM), and people are insisting I act the part. 

However, biggest challenge happens to be I'm not great company even for myself. I'm writing about a dark and vile subject. And if I can be so bold, something which hit too close to home recently. (I was writing about it before I found out it hit our home.) Every ugly chapter where I have to write more about the villains spirals me further into an emotional abyss. Yesterday I wanted to take a Lysol shower. 

All for art, right? 

This Month's Electric Bill

 Behold!