When it Rains, You Get Wet

You know the old saying, “When it rains, it pours”? Here at Doright Manor it might not be pouring, but it’s certainly dribbling at a pretty good clip.

A week or so ago I noticed that the water for my morning shower was getting hot more quickly and staying hot much longer than normal. I like my showers hot, but not near boiling. Then today, there was zero hot water. Hmmm.

Also today, we noticed the carpet in Studly Doright’s home office was wet. Now that his company has called employees back to work at their regular office we are seldom in that room. Had I not been sorting through some craft materials, I might not have noticed the dampness until it began to smell like mildew.

Studly’s pretty certain the two events are connected and that the job calls for more plumbing expertise than he has. He’s called plumber after plumber, but no one he’s talked to will come into homes right now thanks to the Coronavirus.

Current status: No hot water, so no shower, no washing machine, no dishwasher. We’re going to start stinking before long.

Peace, people.

Monday’s All Write

Usually I take Saturday and Sunday off from writing. I’m trying to adhere to a daily schedule just as if writing this novel was a paying gig. Then on Monday mornings I have to get back into the groove. I’ll go back and reread the last chapter or so and make any changes on the manuscript as a whole that occurred to me over the weekend.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve awakened in the middle of the night with a thought such as, “That tshirt couldn’t have matched her green eyes. Her eyes are blue, idiot.”

One would think my copious character notes would be all I need, yet sometimes in the heat of writing I get details confused.

Anyway, this past weekend I wrote a little bit on both days, just to hedge against the Monday morning “what the hell happened to my characters on Friday” confusion. I wish my brain could keep it all straight, but I’m like a freshly hatched chick every Monday.

My strategy didn’t seem to help all that much at first. On Monday morning I still had to spend some time reviewing what I’d written and where I needed to take the story. But as the day went on the words came more easily and when I reached a good stopping place I was pleased with the way everything had come together.

Will I still feel that way on Tuesday morning? Who knows?

But at least I did the best I could. Right?

Peace, people!

On Her Bike Videos

Several days ago I posted a piece about a solo female motorcycle adventure rider who posts videos under the name “Itchy Boots.” Here’s a link to that post if you’re interested: https://nananoyz5forme.com/2020/05/06/itchy-boots-videos/

Studly and I started watching her YouTube offerings and were impressed by her skill and her courage. After we exhausted all of those videos, we stumbled upon those of another such female rider who posts under the title, “On Her Bike.”

The rider, Kinga Tanajewska, is a 39-year-old Polish-born engineer, who immigrated to Australia to work in construction. Now she travels the world on her BMW F800GS and records her adventures for posterity while raising money for a young boy’s medical expenses. Studly and I are hooked on her videos.

Here’s one of the shorter episodes: https://youtu.be/zH3VnikPoVE

Even if you’re not a motorcycle enthusiast I think you’d enjoy Kinga’s journey. She’s not only fearless, she’s also a bit goofy, and warm hearted. And, as Studly was quick to note, easy on the eyes.

In a couple of episodes she’s had us on the edges of our respective seats.

I just wish I had an ounce of her courage and another ounce of her skill on a motorcycle.

Peace, people.

Mother’s Day

I had such a wonderful Mother’s Day.

Studly bought me flowers,

my son sent me designer face masks,

and my daughter sent me a set of “books” with each of the grandkid’s names printed on the spines.

Best of all, both of the kids called me and wished me a happy Mother’s Day, and Studly Doright spent extra time with me.

Happy Mother’s Day and peace, people!

A Sweet Kick in the Pants

Friday morning I sat down at my laptop to work on my novel. Folks, I was at 83,902 words, and yet I couldn’t get a single thought on the electronic page.

I’d type a bit, then delete. Type and delete. At the end of two hours I had 83,899 words. Yikes! I was going backwards. Studly Doright called around 9:30 a.m. to ask how the writing was going, and I just laughed.

He said, “Take a break.”

I reminded him that the last time I took a break from working on this novel it lasted seven years. This time, he laughed.

I went back to the WIP (Work in Progress) and sat staring at the screen. I picked up the book I’m currently reading and let it carry me away for a couple of chapters. Sometimes that gets me unstuck, but not this time.

Finally it was lunch time. Okay, it was only 10:30, but close enough. I put on some eye makeup and my mask (the one with books and a cat on it) and called Sweet Pea Cafe to order their daily special. I sat in their parking lot eating a sweet potato wrap with a side of hummus and veggies. So good.

Back home, I checked the mailbox and there was an oversized envelope addressed to me from my good friend, Flo. But not addressed to JUST any old me, to this me. Author me.

This little psychological boost was enough to give me a kick in the pants and I ended up writing over a thousand words that day. Flo, thank you!

The clippings she sent were ones Flo had found while going through her late sister’s memorabilia.

I remember reading about this woman who claimed to be Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova, the youngest daughter of Russian Tsar Nikolas II.

According to Wikipedia: Anastasia was the younger sister of Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana, and Maria, and was the elder sister of Alexei Nikolaevich, Tsarevich of Russia. She was murdered with her family by a group of Bolsheviks in Yekaterinburg on July 17, 1918.

And yet many people believed that Anastasia somehow escaped the fate that befell the rest of her family and made it to the United States where she lived out the rest of her life. I need to reread the whole story. There are several movies about the young woman, at least two are animated.

Thanks to Flo, I not only got a boost for my writing, but much to ponder. If I ever get this thing finished and published, she and Studly get mentions for sure.

Peace, people!

When I Feel Sad

When I feel sad I might curl up in a ball and sob

Or apply mascara and go out for lunch

I might dance around the room with abandon

Or sit by myself in a corner, when I feel sad.

There’s no telling what I’ll do when the self pity lands

And my thoughts go to dark places. But I won’t do that.

Don’t worry. I’m not sad.

Peace, people.