|Today's POW! Moment: A cornfield in Connecticut|
This weekend was a family reunion on the husband's side, and we spent the last day of it driving, taking pictures, and visiting former homes the hubby lived in as a baby and toddler. It was a nice day filled with nice memories and histories and finding out memories are pretty much technicolor half-truths.
|A cow farm. Dairy? Meat? I'll think happy thoughts and say dairy. I'll try to make a memory of it as a dairy, a lovely technicolor half-truth.|
We finished the weekend with some nice memories of our own:
|The Aborn Castle in Ellington, Connecticut, a regular ol' "house" in a middle class neighborhood|
Another vacation didn't give me the excuse to do no writing. I went to the lobby of our hotel and brought my work. For five hours, I sat in a chair and worked and sometimes looked up to admire/contemplate/silently ridicule the front desk lamps.
Dance music played overhead, and a trying-to-be-stylish bar was behind me. But everyone who came in was part of a family. It was a Saturday night, and no one went to that bar for those five hours I sat there.
It was a great observation to tuck away for a rainy day.
|My view as I revised and wrote|
When I revise, I always feel the crunch of deadlines more than I do during the writing stage. My next deadline? Labor Day Weekend--next weekend. Next. Weekend. Wasn't it just June, when I felt the whole summer was in front of me?
But now the days are almost behind me, and August is now set at warp speed. Just like a side mirror's edict: Things May Be Closer Than They Appear. Yep. They are. And in three days, school starts. And in five to seven days, my deadline for the book comes up and slaps me in the face.
As these days speed toward me, I shall take comfort in the lazy, hazy days that we once had, like this one:
|Bikes, balls, and a large backyard|
And thanks to cameras and camera phones we'll have our summer memories:
|Walking the Cousin Dog|
And thanks to pen and paper, we'll have our artifacts of what stood out most about those memories:
|La Petite Adult's Portrait of a Dog in Profile|
Until next Sunday,