Very soon…
The frantic anecdotes of a scribbling single mom, with 2 young adult sons, 2 jobs, 2 dogs and one life to fit it all into!
I sat down to write and they called me…the cupcakes.
“You can do this,” they said. “You can make fondant flowers. Come on, it’ll be fun!”
They raced across the computer screen, taunting me away from the sandy backyard garden scene I was trying to write, luring me with the scent of vanilla buttercream frosting.
“What about chocolate? Don’t forget chocolate buttercream!”
“And silver fairy dust!” The littlest cupcake cried.
And it was all good.
I settled down, ready to release my two trapped characters from their story, content in the knowledge that sometime, somewhere, cupcakes and fondant pansies will appear in a story.
Sometimes I procrastinate. I sit down intending to write but when the words don’t come easy, my mind wanders…I notice the things I normally overlook- like the dog, sleeping peacefully on the couch in my office.
I think, aw, isn’t that sweet. Then- I hope she’s not cold. Maybe I should cover her up.
I look down at Maggie peacefully sleeping and think- isn’t that sweet?
She looks like a little old lady who’s fallen asleep while reading a good book. So, I find her a good book. Then I see my dad’s glasses and think- Hey, I should add these, too.
She opens her eyes and peers up at me, probably thinking this can’t possibly be happening.
By now I’ve forgotten all about writing. Hyperactive Maggie is not even moving! Seriously- How often does an opportunity like this come along? Certainly never. So I think, what about a hat?
She is still NOT moving! This is incredible…Amazing even…So I try on another hat…
And screw around with my dog for so long that by the end of the day, I have written only one sentence…
The last time I saw Anthony Petrocelli, he shoved a dirt-encrusted statuette into my arms and said, “A big nose and little tits ain’t no reason not to dance.”
Here in town the wild life sticks mainly to the backyard...
Last night we were all out, watching as the snow began to fall.
By morning we were wrapped in a beautiful blanket that wrapped the neighborhood in white and christened the gray winter blahs with promise.
Even Dirty Larry, the Youngest Unnamed One's elderly Toyota, looked brighter in white.
St. Christopher took up quite a collection.
All in all, a beautiful morning.
...for making a hot cup of tea, snuggling down under my throw and tending to that which I have left undone- editing...