Cramp Ragnarok

Okay, so menopause is around the corner--I am officially a peri-menopausal hag. At least I hope that's what's going on. I mean, I've had cramps before but the last two months?  Brutal. I had one last Sunday that sucked away half my day. First there was the, "Oh, hey, this feels like a REALLY LONG CONTRACTION," then there was the trying to breathe for 20 minutes and then there was the weeping and the begging for Motrin.  Then, finally, the cramp faded, but just like real labor, I was exhausted, so I went to sleep for two hours, woke up hungry, and was kind of out of it all day.

Anyway, had another one of those yesterday. It was a blast. Everyone should have them, and by everyone I mean all male doctors I don't care if you're a plastic surgeon, guys, you should have one of these babies, medical research should be RIFE with people going, "Oh, hey, remember when they made us have pain that almost had our heart stop? We should find a way to make that better, right?"

Yes. I agree.

By the way, I think the murder rate would drop if this happened, because my thoughts were SO DARK before that cramp hit. I was pretty sure Mate hated me and I was ready to sue for divorce with an extra kick in the nads for good measure because I wasn't sure why I hated life, the universe and everything with such passion I knew it was completely HIS FAULT. I have to tell you, I woke up from that nap, had some chocolate and a sandwich and went, "My Mate is the BEST and I love him SO MUCH! I can't imagine why I was so mad at him this morning!"  Okay-- we were going to see a soccer game at nine in the morning in the middle of April but we do this year, so maybe I can imagine a little bit, but soccer doesn't usually make me homicidal. Saying.

Also, today, I went walking with Mate, and Mate goes WAY FASTER than me because he's much fitter and doesn't waddle, and so when walking through the mud I was trotting to keep up with him and (WHHHHH) my foot slipped and (OOOOOOAAAAA)  I fell sideways to the earth (AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH) with the slow and stately grace of a giant fat-laden oak tree (HHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMM) through a pool of Jello. (MMMMMMMPPPHHHHHHHHHHAAAHHHH...)

It was fun. (PFFFFFFT.)

Mate was, of course, watching in horror, holding the dogs, unable to help me because then I'd take him out and it's not like he doesn't have his share of weak knees and jammed thumbs and shin splints and sore joints too, and there's nothing like two middle aged people rolling around the mud going, "Help! I'm old and my dignity is dying and getting up is going to make me fart!"

It was really  much better that there only be one of us, and the other could step in and offer a hand up. (I managed to have breakthrough bleeding through four layers while I was rolling around--and yes. My dignity died a sad, sad little death in the mud on the path of the dog park, why do you ask?)

So I came home from that and my head was pounding--probably neck strain from when I hit--and I took two motrin and went to bed (because it worked for me yesterday, right?) but Squish was at her friend's house to play.  Why would this get in the way of a glorious life giving nap, you ask?

Because ZoomBoy was ALL ALONE.

All. Alone.

Alone. All by himself. HIs father was working on the car. Nobody to talk to. All. Alone.

Except for coming in to talk to me every five minutes until I curled up into a miserable achy ball and begged him to, for the love of holy Jebus and Sexually Inexperienced Mary, PLEASE go away.

He did, and I did get that nap-- but it was about an hour longer than I'd planned to make up for the unscheduled stops. I woke up feeling better and that's something, but I'm way more tired than I should be right now and I have (I repeat) so. Much. To do.

*sigh*

I should have had acres of time to write and do work this weekend--I SHOULD have. I expected to stay out late Friday-- we took Squish and her friends to Chinese food, and then we went to the movies. I FINALLY got to see Black Panther, and Squish & Co. got to see Island of Dogs. A good time was had by all and there was even a sleepover last night and that's good too.

But the rest of my weekend was eaten, it felt like, by unexpected trips to Camp Ragnarok and the surprise benefits of rolling around on the ground and trying not to bleed and fart and failing sadly on both counts.

The good news is, now that the hormones have faded, when I'm done writing I can curl up next to my Mate with a good heart and fall asleep tonight.

After I take some Motrin, of course.

Going Under!

So Squish's birthday is this week-- tomorrow is her party, we're taking her and her friends out to dinner and a movie, and it's not much, but it's all she's wanted.  

She's such a lovely kid. We picked out her cake today--as always she went for the unusual choice of blue/purple/green frosting (it looks like late afternoon on a spring night), chocolate cake, strawberries, and whipped cream in the middle. She was so much fun while choosing everything. She really is a delight.

Anyway-- when her birthday is over, I have an entire two weeks before I have to be somewhere doing something, and before that, I need to A. Finish this frickin novella, B. Finish this frickin' blog tour for Crocus, C. Finish this frickin' edit for Fish, D. Put my class notes into a worksheet form and into power point slides, E. Continue to prepare for RT including ordering stuff I can't afford, F. Start weeding out stuff in the kids rooms because seriously nobody can walk anywhere anymore, G. Apparently keep going to soccer because, unbeknownst to me the goddamned season has extended from August to motherfucking July. 

Yeah--I'm going under a little.

So, if I appear thin on social media it's because I'm sorta ducking my head down and taking care of my own business--and there seems to be a lot of it in the next month. I'll still visit--and yeah, I do take chat breaks every now and then--but I'm honestly overwhelmed.  That week back east so soon after Florida really did rip my schedule in half--Mate's been apologetic, too, because nowhere in there had we scheduled any time for me to work, and nowhere in work did I have room to schedule any breaks. 

Anyway--I'll take a picture of Squish's cake and post it here and there, and of course, you'll see amusing quotes and things on Twitter and FB. (I'll be busy, not dead!) And there's always the frickin' asshole dogs who are an endless source of entertainment and exasperation.

I'll be here. I'll just be... you know. Actually sort of working.

Amy

Squishy Stories

So, by the time your kid gets to be 12, there are some stories you just tell by rote, because those are the ones that seem to define your child.

Squishy has always been my dessert baby.

She is beautiful, smart, easy to be around, and almost unbearably sweet.

She grew up in the back of the car, listening to me talk to the older kids as they graduated to the front seat. First it was Big T, and we had very complex discussions about literature.

Then it was Chicken, and we laughed a lot about books, people, happy moments--life.

ZoomBoy is captain DJ--he has very specific tastes in music, including Weird Al Yankovich, Dropkick Murphy's and AC/DC.

Squishy gives me book reports, talks about teachers and nice things that happens at school, and is my last hope for American Musical Theater. (At present she A. hates "angry Irish guys screaming" and B. thinks Something Rotten is hysterical, so I have hopes.)

She has amazing fashion sense--but, just like her mama, just because she KNOWS something goes together doesn't mean she's not helplessly attracted to ugly color randomness that shouldn't be beautiful but she thinks IS. Her purple pantsuit this morning had a lovely gray cardigan that came with it. Squishy went with the cotton-candy colored shawl I crocheted for her because, in her words, "It looked like mermaids."

She's clever and intuitive and undeniably brilliant. Her school test scores are really very impressive considering her father and I have spent her entire life telling her that the test isn't as important as how much she's learned.

She's learned a lot--the tests are a cakewalk and she loves taking them. (So does ZoomBoy--don't hate on them, it's probably my fault.)

Yes, she IS aware that her hair is gorgeous and stunning and beautiful--thank you. She appreciates your awe and wonder and while she may someday cut it, she has to admit--the praise is lovely to hear and she doesn't want it to go away.

She is also aware that her blue eyes are quite pretty. She's the only one in the family with blue eyes you know--she got them in particular, because, you know, Squishy.

When I told her that her shadow in the picture with the shawl looks like a unicorn, she laughed. When she read the John Oliver book, Marlon Bundo (the better bunny book!) she thought it was sweet--and she's grown up with her father and I watching politics and she agrees that the stink bug is VERY STINKY indeed.

Her whole life she has seen the poetry in the story, the sweetness in the bitter, the brightness in the dark.

Her vocabulary is extraordinary, and she uses it to communicate with her family, because we are her favorite thing.

She loves to draw.

She loves to read.

She loves--in her words--"old people's movies".  This includes, by the way, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and The Thin Man movies.

And although this whole post is written with a little hyperbole, and with the full knowledge that one's own children are always the prettiest, the whole kernel of truth here is this:

She is my Squishy and she is twelve today, and that time... it flew by like a breath. She's a delight and a joy and sometimes after a really shitty day her hug is all the keeps me from the worst part of myself.

Mate and I ask ourselves, every single day, what good we could have done to deserve all of our children. With Squishy we have been forced to accept the grace of the Goddess in general.

Nobody is good enough to "deserve" her. We just have to accept her for the loveliness she is.

Happy Easter Kermit Flail!

YAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!

Okay, so I know it's cliche to say "count your blessings" but this week really did show me I was blessed.

For starters, when I told everybody I was really tired and a little wrung out, I got nothing but support--thank you all. You were so kind. I took a mild social media break and it really did help. Thank you.

And in addition, we've got Kermit Flail.

Now I've been doing this for what? Three years? And essentially it's a big co-op-- I put new people on my blog and new people put my blog on their social feed and all together we get a big pop for our new projects and that's good for everybody, right?  But some months I'm like, "You know... maybe this has run its course..." and then--INVARIABLY, WITHOUT FAIL, people I'm just THRILLED AND PSYCHED to hear from ping me and go, "Hey, Amy... you still doing the flail?"

Yeah I'm doing the flail!  For these folks?  I'd resurrect the flail and breathe life into the dead if I stopped doing it and they asked me to put them on Kermit Flail. But, you know--fortunately I don't have to, because they pinged me before I even thought of putting ol' Kermit down. 

So yeah. 

Blessed. 

I can't ever forget, right?

So first up on my list of blessings is LaQuette!  Now I met her through a variety of social media moments, and when I first got to talk to her, I was just blown away. She's fun, she's passionate, she's a riot to talk to and a joy to connect with--and brother, can she write. Her Queens of Kings books have been a huge hit, and I know she's coming to DSP and I'm just so excited, so be sure to give it up for her book, Wicked Wager!

Also we've got Elle Brownlee-- who is one of my go-to people at Dreamspinner and RT. We've had tea together, lunch together, and vodka together and I'm just so excited to get to pimp her new book--she's got a sneaky sense of humor, this one, and a romantic soul.  Be prepared when you read Staggered Cove Station--you're in for a ride!

E.J. Russell is a girl on fire!  She won a Rainbow Award for her book The Druid Next Door (which I got to judge, and I loved it, and pimped it right here!) and sure enough, the book was nominated for a RITA!!! And I was jumping up and down and screaming when this happened, so you can bet I was excited when she pinged me for her next one--Tested by Fire. 

Now Teodora Kostova was first known to me as a reader--I saw her in social media on occasion and she always had such lovely things to say. Now she's a writer in her own right, and oh brother, can she dish out the angst-- take a look at her newest, Ten Mile Bottom-- if you're in need for a workout for the old heart muscle, I think we've got one right here!

Now Sophia Beaumont hit me up out of nowhere--I'm surprised she even knew about my blog, but she writes a little bit of the creepy and a little bit of the strange and I'm so happy to have someone new to me and new to you and definitely worth checking out--Moreau House looks very cool!

Oh... and toward the bottom, I've got a few projects of my own!

So come check out Kermit Flail this month--it's like the stars came out just for me!

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wicked Wager


by LaQuette

Dr. Mandisa Avery is a Brooklyn chemist who's lost sight of her life outside the dreams her late mother left her to fulfill. With too many late nights spent in her office working, she's burned out and desperate for a change.

Slade Hamilton is a Texas businessman who adores ranch life. He'd love nothing more than to spend his days tilling his land. However, his inherent need to protect his family legacy from his hateful father keeps him and his future tied to a desk at Logan Industries.

When a lucrative business opportunity forces their paths to cross, Mandisa and Slade must each make a decision: risk it all on undeniable attraction, or hedge their bets to save their hearts and their respective businesses from ruin.

Will they fold, or will they risk it all on a wicked wager?

Buy at Amazon

Staggered Cove Station

by Elle Brownlee

Rescues are wild in the Alaskan terrain. So is romance.

Sun-kissed California guardsman Dan Farnsworth might be at home in the water, but he’s out of his element at remote, rugged, and freezing Staggered Cove Station. Acclimating proves hard enough, but he’s also digging into how the station’s previous rescue swimmer was lost at sea. Was it an operation gone bad... or something more sinister? Add to that instant tension between him and his partner, no-nonsense Alaska-born Karl Radin, and Dan has his hands full.

As his investigation heats up, so does the attraction between Dan and Karl—even if they don’t completely trust each other. But as suspicious events escalate to sabotage, Dan starts to fear he and Karl won’t get the chance to become more than reluctant coworkers.

Buy at Dreamspinner

Moreau House

by Sophia Beaumont

Evie Cappelli is not a people-person.

Unfortunately, her boyfriend Micha definitely is, and so Evie gets dragged along for a weekend of ghost hunting with her cousin, his boyfriend, and three of their friends.

A trained Night Patrol officer and one of Hekate’s ferrymen, Evie assumes she’ll have more trouble from the living than the dead on this trip, but the eerie farm house quickly exceeds expectations with mysterious noises, disembodied voices, and objects that move on their own.

But when one of their number vanishes in the middle of the investigation, the danger becomes palpable, and it’s up to Evie and Micha ensure they make it through the night.


Buy at Amazon

Ten Mile Bottom

Teodora Kostova

Hitting rock bottom is just the beginning...

I’m a son, a brother, a friend.
A writer.
An addict.
Dead.
Cardiac arrest isn’t enough to keep me dead, though. The doctors brought me back, but for what?

At twenty four I’ve already achieved what most people do in a life time. I’m a successful author, own a flat in the heart of London and drive my dream sports car.
Or at least that’s what people see.
Once the spotlight fades, I’m left alone with my overactive mind, alcohol and drugs the only way to quiet down the noise.
Until an overdose nearly kills me and drags everyone I love down with me.
With the help of my best friend, I leave London and its toxic influence behind, moving to a small town in the outskirts of Cambridge to try and put my life back together again.

If only it were that easy.



Buy at Amazon

Tested in Fire

E.J. Russell
Six months ago, Stefan Cobbe was at rock bottom: grief-stricken, guilt ridden, debt laden, artistically blocked, and living on charity in an isolated mountain cabin. But after reconciling with his first love, Luke, and moving to Sarasota with him, Stefan is preparing for his first major show. Yes, he still has debts, and no, Luke doesn’t understand Stefan’s desire for independence. But compared to last year? No contest.

Luke Morganstern ought to be happy. After all, his art-investigation business has recovered and he’s got his boyfriend back. But Stefan stubbornly refuses to move in with him or accept Luke’s financial help, and it’s really starting to bug him. Who knew that the biggest test of their relationship wouldn’t be time or distance, but his own insecurities? After Luke’s next job—a trip to Italy to retrieve a mysterious artifact—he plans to convince Stefan that it’s time to totally commit.

But when Luke returns, he changes, and Stefan begins to suspect that the person in Luke’s skin isn’t Luke at all. He can hardly go to the police and claim his lover is the victim of a supernatural hijacking though. He needs alternative help to find Luke and get him back, because he refuses to let anyone—or anything—come between them again.


Buy Here

Crocus

by Amy Lane

Bonfires: Book Two

Saying “I love you” doesn’t guarantee peace or a happy ending.

High school principal “Larx” Larkin was pretty sure he'd hit the jackpot when Deputy Sheriff Aaron George moved in with him, merging their two families as seamlessly as the chaos around them could possibly allow.

But when Larx’s pregnant daughter comes home unexpectedly and two of Larx’s students are put in danger, their tentative beginning comes crashing down around their ears.

Larx thought he was okay with the dangers of Aaron’s job, and Aaron thought he was okay with Larx's daughter—who is not okay—but when their worst fears are almost realized, it puts their hearts and their lives to the test. Larx and Aaron have never wanted anything as badly as they want a life together. Will they be able to make it work when the world is working hard to keep them apart?

Buy Here

Stand by Your Manny

by Amy Lane

Sammy Lowell has his hands full juggling his music, college, some pesky health problems, and making the uncles who raised him proud. He needs help fulfilling his after-school duties with his siblings. Nobody can be in two places at once—not even Sammy! An injury puts Cooper Hoskins in a tough spot—if he can’t work, the foster sister he’s raising can’t eat. But years in the foster system have left Cooper short on trust, and opening up to accept help isn’t easy. Luckily, family intervenes—Cooper needs a job so he can care for Felicity, and Sammy needs someone who can see past his illness to the wonderful things he has planned for his life. Each heals the damaged places in the other’s heart. But falling in love is a big responsibility for young men deep in family already. Can the two of them get past their fear of the immediate future to see forever with each other?

Buy Here

April Fool's Easter

Hey all-- Happy April Fool's Easter!  Most of you saw DSP's April Fool's joke (hint--I did NOT write a book titled Swanky Spanky!) and while some of you were missing the BDSM, most of you caught on that maybe--just maybe--this wasn't Amy's thing, and enjoyed the moment.

I'm glad.  I'm not a great practical joker because I'm like my sons: So, Mom-- did you go to the kitchen? Did you turn on the water? Can you turn on the water now? Do you notice anything when you turn on the water?  Like what?

In short, I give away the joke because I want to make sure people get it, and I also want to make sure they don't get their feelings hurt. I suck at pranks. The only way I succeeded at this one was that I was taking a social media break while someone else did the heavy lifting. I do hope you all got a laugh.

But speaking of pranks?  That water thing really did happen today-- but ZoomBoy FORGOT about the rigged water hose when his father went to use the sink and everybody got a good laugh when the water shot across the kitchen.

But then, tonight? When ZoomBoy went to bed and realized all his stuffed animals were arranged to face the wall instead of him?  He completely freaked out before we reminded him that A. APRIL FOOLS and B. Chicken had disappeared for half an hour tonight while we were watching TV.  Ha ha. Good one, Chicken. We told him to call you in the middle of the night when he wakes up with nightmares.

So all in all, a good day (except when my uterus tried to turn itself inside out in an effort to squeezed the dust off one of my few shriveled and creaky eggs. Oi--the pain and the subsequent recovery took two hours out of my day, dammit, and left me exhausted for the rest of it.)  But besides the great uterus fiasco, I thought I'd share this little story of ZoomBoy and Squish--

See, we planted clues in plastic Easter Eggs around the house, each clue leading to the next until the final one lead to the hidden basket. The following two conversations can tell you all a LOT about my kids and Mate and me.

Convo 1:

Me:  Wow-- you're putting an egg there?

Mate: That's what the clue said.

Me: I hope ZoomBoy can see that--I'd never be able to find it in there.

Mate: Well, I put Squish's in the table clutter--that's going to be harder.

Me: I'd be so lost.

Mate:  Hey-- this clue here? The "line of bottles and cans"-- where's the next one supposed to go?

Me: In the line of sodas and fizzy water, along the wall.

Mate: Oh! D'oh!  Okay-- next clue!

Convo 2:

ZoomBoy:  Yeah, I couldn't find that egg in the DVD's-- I was looking right at it.

Squish: Dad put one in the clutter on the table--I figured it out though.

ZoomBoy: Dad had to help me.

Squish: Well, you had to help me with that one about the bottles and cans. I was going to go through the recycling!

ZoomBoy:  I just knew what that meant.

Squish: I was so lost.


... So, uh, guess who's brain functions how, right?

Anyway-- happy April Fool's Easter!  Squish's birthday is on Tuesday-- and then, we have a little bit of quiet, while I plan a blog tour, two classes, and finish two projects.

Yeah. It's never quiet.

Happy Pagan Sex Day!!!

A Little Quiet

*whew*

First of all, thanks for all the warm wishes, both here and around the net. You guys are all really kind to me, even the people who don't always agree with what I say. I'm grateful.

Second, good news is, we only got Gibby the Chihuahua today, and she's not staying long. Not that I mind--I need to get a picture but she's really frickin' adorable. Not as cute as Geoffie, but still.  Anyway, apparently Stevi really only needed us to take her while her sister was in town, which is fine. Gibby is her mom's companion dog, and I think they should be together as long as possible, right?

I may get to Pierce and Hal tomorrow, and I whittled away at my inbox and still managed some fiction writing. Another day with a good nap and some shopping to take care of Easter AND Squish's birthday and I may feel a little less like my head is on fire.

Which is good, because all sorts of amazing people (Indie-Fab nominee Kim Fielding, RITA nominee E.J. Russell!) hit me up for Kermit flail this month and I'm so excited about putting that up Sunday night!

Also, I think... I think I may opt out of my larger family  doing this  Sunday. I have potatoes and a ham and salad for everybody--I'm pretty sure the kids might just want to stay home. I'll ask them tomorrow, but I think the family needs some peace as much as I do.

And now, back to my guys. Peace!

Wrung Out

Some people can go-go-go all the time, and on the one hand I envy them.

But on the other hand I'm like, "When do you... you know... think?"

I need quiet in which to think.

These last few weeks have been nutsy-cuckoo this way. My only real peace has been writing, but I haven't had nearly enough time to do that.  My in-box is stacking a mile high of stuff I must get done by tomorrow--and I don't have any time today.

And all of the backlash I feared about Bobby Green when it came out waited until this week, when I'm so emotionally drained I'm afraid I don't have the compassion with it that I should.

For the record--and for those of you who didn't follow the blog tour, when I stated this explicitly: Reg's sister, Veronica--her taste for politics and all--is based on people from my own life. I'm not saying this for pity, but for context. I don't just write a V or a Keir or any other of the characters in my books with mental or physical difficulties because I think it would make a good story. I write them because in one capacity or another they have been part of my life, and thinking about them in fiction is more cathartic--and for me, more real--than thinking about them in terms of myself.

Anyway, when I'm this down to the bone, it's usually best that I say nothing at all, because the thing I want to say, the thing closest to the surface, is the thing that will get me in the most trouble. (In this case it got me a petty review on amazon that I think I can deal with, but there was trouble!)

So I'm feeling a little wrung out. Last night I skipped blogging so I could write fiction--I was tired and it really was that choice. Turns out, I don't get paid for blogging, so fiction it was.

Tonight, I may get them both done, and yay! I promised some more Pierce and Hal by tomorrow--which I'm excited to write, and a Happy Easter present it definitely would be, but we'll have to see. I need a day... just a day. When my time is not monopolized by everybody else in my life, and I'm not sure if tomorrow's gonna be that day. Chicken's best friend from high school is coming over. Her mother is dying and Stevi is giving us two of her pets because they can't care for them anymore. So tomorrow is going to be situating another cat in our garage (poor baby--I hope she's okay there) and acclimating my dogs to Gibby, another dog of small stature, who will be living with us. So... not my day. And still nutsy-cuckoo, just like the last month.

I know it will calm down. I know walking the dogs will go back to being a quiet peace-giving wander instead of a frustrating, "This is as fast as I can go!" sprint. I know I will eventually get back into the pool on a regular basis.

But not tomorrow or the next day or the next or the next.

And maybe not the day after that.

But...

On the good side of things, one of my "go go go!" moments today was getting my kids from my mom after their trip to the ocean.

They'd had a wonderful time although they were both a little pink. (One of my stepmom's biggest goals, apparently, is to cook one of my children well enough to eat. Big T has actual scars to attest to this fact, and Squish is going to have more freckles on her nose this year too.)

When I asked them what they did (in front of Grandma), ZoomBoy said, "Oh yeah! We ate androgynous crab! They tasted like butter."

"How did you know they were androgynous?" I asked, perplexed. "Did you lift up their shells?"

"Dungeness crab!" my stepmom said, laughing. "And we could only boil three, so we chose those ones because they tasted buttery."

I laughed. "So, ZoomBoy, did they taste buttery?"

"They tasted good," he said, "but I still couldn't catch one."

But he got to try, and that's pretty cool.

And I really needed the laugh.

Too quiet...

* Went and saw Love Simon today with Chicken. We loved it. I cried. We both irritated the crap out of people who were at the movies to see Paul, the Apostle. It was money well spent.

*  Took the cat to the vet today. Mate chased her...

--Out from under the kids' bunk bed, which he shook hard, displacing Gordie from the top bunk before she came hauling ass from underneath the bottom one.

-- Out from under our bed, where the dogs almost ambushed her on the way down the hall

--Behind the couch, where she backed out hurriedly because Gordie was already there, dammit!

--Right past me, who grabbed her by the tail and managed to wrangle her into her cat carrier.

She proceeded to bitch for the next half-hour, in the vets office and everything. I think a translation of her dialog would be, "RUDE!!!!!" and yes, the vet told her I was awful and Steve was beautiful and she didn't deserve this kind of treatment!


*  Submitted a workshop outline or four tonight. I think I did them wrong. Now I want to go back and redo them but I really have to finish this novella! Yikes!

*  More Pierce and Hal this week!  But not tonight--it's late.

Face first, into the pillow...

So...

Friday Squish had a dance and she looked lovely and Saturday Mate started the morning by taking her to spring soccer practice while I took the dogs for a walk, and then I came home and made the kids pack.

And then we packed up the car with stuff for kids and stuff for us and dogs (DOGS!) and after a trip to the store we drove through traffic to Doran Beach where my folks were camping, and then we unloaded kids and dogs and took a walk on the beach all together, and the Johnnie thought the beach was TERRIFYING and Geoffie thought it was WONDERFUL and then it started to rain.

So we came back to the campsite and my mom made dinner while my dad tried to convince us all that we should arm all the children and then if they got shot it was just bad parenting and I asked my dad what kind of parenting it was when my stepbrother shot me with a B.B. gun when we were eight and then beat me up so I wouldn't tell mom and dad and how much more fun that would have been if he'd had a .22 and he said it would have been fine and I said I would have been dead and he would be happy now because my whole family wouldn't be disagreeing with him.

And then Mom said dinner was ready and we were all grateful and took out food to meet with her friends in the next campground so I could hold Geoffie in my jacket and Johnnie could freak out under my chair and we could all eat sloppy joes, which were yummy.

After that we drove for an hour in the rain to find a hotel fifteen miles away because GPS is frickin' weird and we ended up on Bob's Road for 20 minutes and if you're wondering where all the serial killers are don't ask me to draw you a map because we were LOST but I'm telling you we were on the road where they all lived without street lights when it was pouring down rain and that was fun.

After that we found the dog friendly hotel and we all slept.

So this morning Mate and I drove home and it was three hours because we stopped with the dogs and ran around two rest stops because one WASN'T dog friendly and anyway we were home for an hour and a half and he said, "I have a King's game and my friend can't make it," so I had to go to a King's game which wasn't bad really because it was a date with my sweetie but I've got SO MUCH FRICKIN' WORK I was supposed to be doing and now I'm way more behind but it was A DATE WITH MY SWEETIE so I'm sort of torn about that.

Then there was dinner.

Then we came home and watched TV.

And now I have to work--and not just write I have to put together a class so I can submit two classes to Emerald City which I enjoyed last year and I hope they'll have me back.

But I have to get it done.

And you know?

The last two days have been sort of busy.              

Schtuff

Me: Yeah, I couldn't go on my walk today--that sort of sucked.

Mate: Did you not have any time?

Me: No--I totally went, but it was flooded, so no walk. See the pictures?

Mate: It totally counts. You went, you got out of the car, you took pictures. Counts.

Me: Excellent! Win!

*  *  *

I'm in line to pay for Geoffie's grooming while the groomer's get her ready. Johnnie is on the leash, dancing nervously at my feet. About the time I notice he's decided to mark a display box, a woman looks down and says, "Oh, isn't he cute!"

I smile greenly. "Yeah. Adorable. Could you hold my spot in line for just a... minute here...."

"Yes, of course!"

I come back with the spray bottle and paper towels handily provided by a staff that realizes dogs mark everything. When I'm done cleaning up I smile apologetically and go to throw the paper towels away.

"He's cute, but he's sort of an asshole," I say to the woman by way of explanation.

She laughed, but seriously, I don't think he looked so cute to her anymore.

*  *  *

The cat is sitting in the corner, chattering at the birds. They have a special sort of meow for this, a "You bird fuckers I'm gonna get you!" meow. She's very passionate.


"Meow, meow, meow! If only this door wasn't open, you bird fuckers! I'd totally come get you!"

I'm like, "Cat, the door is open. Go get the birds."

Cat's like, "If only...."

Go get'em Steve. You got those bird fuckers on the run.

*  *  *

The kids are going to the ocean for part of the week with my parents. Mate and I were talking about it tonight.

"Yeah," I said, "and my mom told me to remind them to fold their clothes just right and that they need to bring drinks they want and that we should bring a crate for the dogs..."

Mate's all, "Okay. Fine. We can do that. Do they know?"

"Yeah, but I forgot to tell them to watch out for big waves and not to talk to strange men and to make sure they don't wander off and get lost and--"

Mate says, "But those sound like rules."

"They're not rules."

"No, I'm pretty sure they're rules."

"No," I correct, "they're worries. I have to worry about them, and then I have to communicate my worry so those worries don't happen."

"You don't have to worry--they'll be with your parents."

"But I do have to worry! Don't you understand? If I forget to worry about something it will happen and if I remember to worry about it we can stop it from happening. The entire weight of my worry has kept our children safe for over twenty-five years."

"Your worry alone."

"It's a terrible responsibility."  I need to make sure he knows this. "It's exhausting! But if I don't worry about all of it now, and it does happen, it means I screwed up and it's my fault!"

"You've been doing this for twenty-five years?"

"Twenty-six. It started when I was pregnant."

"Well, uh, carry on. I guess. If that's what you think will help."

"It's kept them safe this long."

"Sure it has. Absolutely."

So, scuse me, my mom will have the kids but I do need to spend some of my time worrying!