Who
would have thought sitting outside, for six hours, talking to people would take
so much out of you? Both Saturday and Sunday when I came home from the books
signing I crashed. I was out cold for two hours and then I still went to bed at
my normal time. I’m still tired now.
So
yesterday’s book signing went considerably better than Saturday’s. I signed
around ten books and several more folks took my card so they can get the books
on Kindle. I did check my month to date report on KDP and a book was purchased in
the past two days, so I guess someone was telling me the truth.
Only
one of the other two authors scheduled for yesterday’s books signing showed up.
She was a lovely woman named Sally Gerth, and her book was a memoir. In a few
short years, Sally lost her entire family, including her husband and only
child. Her book, Sit it Out or Dance, is the story of that painful time in her
life and her decision not to “Sit it Out” but to “Dance”. For the FB folks, you
can find the book on Amazon by typing Sit it Out or Dance in the search, and it
is the first book that pops up. For the Blog followers, here’s the link.
I
was chatting with one gentleman yesterday who happened to live in my town and
he asked me about a writing group. I told him I was hoping to get one started.
I REALLY need to talk to the library director. September’s almost over and I
still haven’t had a chance to call him.
After
putting on a pot of stew to simmer, I will be spending my day tackling the
insurance papers. I still have HOURS of work ahead of me to match up each line
item with an item on the receipt. When they called me on Saturday, I told them
I was still working on it, and they asked if I could try to get it back to them
by the end of the week. I said I would try. I work on it until my eyes cross
and then I give up for the day.
Blog
readers, if you have a chance, please visit my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/Christina.Paul.Author,
so you can see all the photos and their captions from the scarecrow festival. (FB
folks - the blog has several photos scattered throughout this post.) I hope you
have a wonderful day and happy writing!
The bench, our bench, looks so lonely
doesn’t it? But, I just can’t bring myself to sit on it like we used to. It
just wouldn’t be the same without you.
It was this very bench where I first
saw you, where I stopped to help you when your skate broke. This was where we
stopped after are third date, where we shared our first kiss; and on that cold
December day when I asked you if you would spend the rest of our lives
together.
From this bench we watched our children
and then our grandchildren play in the park directly across from us. We sat and
fed the birds like old folks were supposed to do. I miss you sweetheart. Life
has been so empty without you. The only comfort I have is knowing you are in a
much better place, not suffering anymore, and one day soon I will see you
again; then together we’ll find a new bench where we can make many more
wonderful memories.
It didn’t take ten minutes, but the
story was done. Unfortunately, now I’m a little sad. When I saw the photo, I
thought for sure I’d write about a chill in the air and leaves crunching
beneath my feet, but then this story came out. I was seeing the bench through
an old man’s eyes, reliving his fond memories and feeling his sorrow. I doubt I’ll
ever be able to figure out how my brain works or where these images come from.
Your
Next Challenge is:
It’s moving day…
You have 10 minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong,
just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count and NO ONE is allowed to
criticize what someone else has written. Go.
Fifty years of memories—how do I leave them? Everything is packed except the china cabinet. I couldn’t do it—too painful. Now as I open the dusty glass doors, I reach for the figurine of the woman walking her poodle. I forget who the artist was, but I remember when you gave it to me. We were so young. Just starting out. It remains my favorite. Every time I look at it, I see your face waiting for me to open the box. The porcelain was fine, every detail elegant. You said that is how you thought of me. I still feel a rush of tears when I think of that day.
ReplyDeleteAnd what of the ugly painted stones the kids gave me that occupy the space next to the figurine? Often I am asked about them. “My kids painted them when they were 3 and 5,” I answer. The dates are painted on the bottom of the stones. I get choked up thinking of those days when our kids were little. What fun we had. And my grandmother’s china, gift from times gone by, now going to our daughter…
So may memories. Packing will take me all day. How will I go on with just my memories?
Beautiful as always. I so enjoy reading what you write!
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