end of the year hoo haa

So much to say, but not all about hummingbirds.  Only that Flighty has been the bird of late, but I've seen Primo fluttering around.  What will 2011 bring for those creatures?

Well, my cold has abated somewhat, allowing for me to meet with Julie K. Rose on Wednesday, an authors' chat over coffee that was so enjoyable, I'm still feeling the aftereffects.  Julie recently published her novel The Pilgrim Glass, and I want to recommend it with great guns, a mystical historical literary foray along the French countryside.  Reminded me of England, in a sunny, warm, European sort of manner, as well as lifting me with expressive dialogue and narrative.  If any of these descriptions pique your interest, get a copy, and prepare for a trip into France and not a small bit of intrigue and wonder!

Right now it's mid-afternoon on the last day of the year, The White Stripes blaring as Bob faffs in the garage, about all the energy he owns, having picked up my cold.  That will keep us from a planned sojourn into San Francisco to see the sunset at Ocean Beach, instead offering a quiet New Year's Eve.  Thea is departing to see her beloved, Jay at a party, Bud back to their domain, classes starting for him on Monday.  I'm planning on doing very little this evening, no ocean watching, no snapping of coastline shots, only some telly with the hubby, no one else.  The quietest new year we've had in ages. 

But it was a busy year, trips to see family, new babies, so many words!  Kids fled the nest while hummingbirds muscled their way in, and from my window I watched those swooping birds dip and dive, feeling my life taking turns.  But also many constants, the writing, tea, bagels, Bob.  Kids come and go now, their lives morphing into something past what Mom and Dad recognize, but then our lives thrive too, a couple long as parents finding what it's like to just be a twosome.  Sorting that notion has been so comforting, necessary, like the writing.  I need to write, I also need my better half.  For years he and I were the protectors of offspring.  Now it's just us, hummingbirds aside, and I've adjusted my schedule to correspond to his, or rather, I stir to make the PBJ's when he wakes, then just get to the work, wrapping it up when he strolls through the door hours later.

It's a work I love, but more to my mind is that man behind me, support so vital.  Having had plenty of days' break from his work and mine, the holiday has provided time for reflection.  No big issues arising, only the reminder of who I am and what matters.

He does.  My husband, such a gift!  Amidst the drives to Capitola and endless cups of tea, hummingbirds and visits from children, there's this guy, such a guy!  So while this year was full of manuscripts and editing, some querying and blogging too, in the back of my mind is the great appreciation for the one who makes all this possible, two actually.  My God and my husband, and really, what more needs to be said?

Christmas Eve 2010... If not for this guy, all the words in the world could blow in the wind! 

Well, just that I wish you all a really brilliant evening, and such joys and successes in 2011!  Also that I'll be musing on an additional blog, another year of writing noted, this time with hummingbirds.  If only they knew how pervasive they've become in my day-to-day.  Or maybe better they didn't know. Either way, I'm not really sure what I'll be pondering on the new blog, but it will be a year's worth of something. 

Maybe about hummingbirds perhaps...  Happy New Year!!

belated Happy Boxing Day!

So, I have a cold.  Post nasal drip was noted late on Christmas Eve, and by Christmas afternoon I was full of... snot.  Sinus headache.  A longing to close my eyes and fall back into bed.  But it was a Christmas propelled by the Eleventh Doctor, BBC America showing past  Doctor Who Christmas Specials in anticipation of the same-day airing of the 2010 Christmas Special.  That the girls were cooking dinner was a huge plus, in addition to all the joys that Christmas brings; family together, pressies from loved ones, phone calls with those far away.  The turkey wasn't cooperating, but as I'm not overly fond of poultry, it wasn't a big loss.  We ate a late dinner, then sat on the sofa, taking in a Doctor Who Christmas Carol.  A great episode, while the fifth season downloaded onto my PC, offering the glimpse of a new idea of course!  It wouldn't be Christmas without a dodgy main dish, The Doctor and something new over which to plot.

When I woke on Boxing Day (December 26th to those unaware), my kitchen was clean, Thea mostly, some assistance from Jay.  That was probably the biggest gift I could receive after everything else so appreciated; nothing like waking feeling like death warmed over and not having to fish for a clean teacup and pot!  Thea hosed down the stove and counters even, and when coupled with her excellent post-it notepad, well, what else can I say?

I thought this was the greatest post-it note devised!  Just put it in the novel, of course...  All pics from 26 December 2010.

Jay did her part, a new wind chime that doesn't seem to have doused Primo or Flighty's interest in the feeder.  Bob offered a wind chime as well, so now the feeder is surrounded by new tones, a wooden hummingbird and some jade; sweet!

Flighty has been all over the feeder this morning, Primo getting his share yesterday.  Their new friend seems to offer no hindrance.

As for sweets, Bud presented me with chocolates, Cadbury of course!  Also an iTunes card, from where the Fifth Season of Dr. Who was gained.  After we watched The Doctor battle the man who Thea says was in Harry Potter, we gathered around my monitor and watched how Matt Smith became The Doctor in wonderful hi-def!  Our cable provider doesn't provide BBC America in HD, but the version I plucked from iTunes is in clear, crisp high definition.  If the previous Dr. Who series were in HD, I'd get them too. 

All that Dr. Who'ing led an invasion in my brain, not enough to clear the snot, but more than plenty to spark a new idea, one full of hummingbird nonsense but no Daleks.  In fact, other than it's tentatively called The First Novel Of the Year and that the MC's are named for American football player Maurice Jones-Drew, I know very little (Drew and Morris Jones, to be exact).  All I did yesterday was watch footie, my beloved but ever-so-lame 49ers losing to the St. Louis Rams, falling out of playoff contention (of which they never should have been with so dismal a record), then finding their head coach Mike Singletary fired as of late yesterday.  Far too late in the season with only one game remaining, but what do I know?

I saw this in the kids' college location when we visited them over Thanksgiving.  Little did I know Jay had already picked it up for me, bless that girl's hummingbird heart!

I'm just a snot-laden, obsessed with hummingbirds and Dr. Who commercial fiction author, not a football genius. And so it goes...

the Christmas letter Bob wrote

So Bob wrote a Christmas letter as I struggled to pen the cards themselves.  I just couldn't get in the mood, but in a tandem effort, they were sorted.  So in an equally twosome sort of manner, here's a quick update of the year, with only a little bit of writing included.

Well, a LOT of writing.  My husband, often he's so witty....  (with just a little commentary by me, in italics)

Anna and I celebrated our anniversary in San Francisco, spending the weekend at a B&B in the Outer Richmond Distract of the city.  We enjoyed it so much that we think about retiring there.

I liked it so much I used the Richmond District in one of my novels.

We made a return trip to SF in April to see Yo La Tengo, staying across the street from the Fillmore at the Kabuki Hotel.  Camera Obscura opened, that was a real treat.  Great concert, crummy hotel, but I'm always too lazy to drive home after a late night.

We've found the beds are too firm, both in the Richmond District and in Japantown.  But man, that was a great show!  Yo La Tengo forever...

In June, Jay graduated from high school.  Yea!  In July she moved north, joining her brother and sister.  Anna and I with no children at home! (For the first time since the late 1980's)

So far, so very darn good!

Anna went to Oregon in July, to help her sister with new-born preemie twins.  Big fun in the Beaver State!

When I think back on 2010, one of my fondest memories is that week with Sis and those babies.  I can't imagine a recent experience that humbled me more than receiving a peek into my nieces' lives when they should have been hidden from view. 

While she was in Oregon, the transmission (gearbox) failed in my car.  It was a bad day.

Oh my goodness there is nothing worse than one's spouse calling to say his car has failed.  I was just arriving in Oregon, not a single thing I could do!  Fortunately it was sorted within a few days, but not until I had returned to California.

In October I accompanied Anna for a return trip to Oregon, to see how those twins were doing.  It was interesting, being reminded of What Life Is Like with little ones in the house!  We slept soundly every night, after each day-full of cuddling & spit-up.

We slept soundly because we weren't sleeping at Sis and Tre's house!  But oh my, it was a great time with 'Lil B, T1 & T2 and their folks who seemed happy for our fresh sets of arms.

Thanksgiving was spent up north, visiting our children (!) and seeing the in-laws, etc.

I love not cooking a turkey!  My girls are doing it on Saturday, hoot hoot!!

We look forward to our first Christmas with the-kids-coming-home.

It's here, kids in our realm once again.  As I type these small asides, Bob and Thea are watching Daria episodes, Jay in full pow-wow with her friends.  Bud is busy too, but for all our joyful waxing of an empty nest, nothing is better than kids home for the holidays!

2010 marked twenty-one years for me working for blah-blah company.  I'm enjoying my job; I try to work approximately 5.30 AM-2.30 PM to avoid heavy afternoon traffic.

As he works that early schedule, so do I, rising with him to make those ubiquitous peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  It sure is nice being done with the writing around the time Bob pops in the front door, three PM-ish or so, depending on that afternoon traffic!  And speaking of the writing...

Anna wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and edited.  She's now hawking her goods around the world of literary agents.

I had to laugh when I read that!  A pretty accurate description of my world, although he omitted the part I offered, that I'm not holding my breath with the querying.  But yeah, it was a year full of words, and I'm glad for a slow moment, kids keeping me otherwise occupied.

Thea, who's old enough to send her own Christmas letter (ahem), expects to graduate in 2011 with her degree in Mathematics. It will be a big year for her!

She laughed when she read this!   

Bud expects to get his AA in Radio-TV Film.  Again, 2011 will be a big year.

Depending on how his intersession class goes, Bud might beat his big sister to the graduation podium. 

Jay is taking her initial General Ed classes- she's leaning toward Anthropology as a major.

Jay's happy to be home, not worrying about school or buying her own groceries.  Also she likes having a large television once again, as well as hanging with her old friends.

Happy Christmas!

Why yes indeed, a most happy Christmas and 2011 to you all!  We picked up that Happy Christmas habit in the UK, and now it's the way Bob and I wish all a most joyful holiday.  What we wish to you, from all here in California, Primo and Flighty sending their hummingbird love too...

echoes of Christmas

Mandarin, cinnamon and clove candle from M&S in the kitchen windowsill.  All pics from 17 December, 2010...

Scents; for me that's a big part of it.  Sounds too, music and voices, but in how the tree smells, like a clear, silent forest, or the abundance of sugar and chocolate as goodies are baked.  Or the candles pulled from bubble wrap, purchased at Marks and Spencer and Morrisons years ago in Great Britain; yesterday I made treats and decorated the house.  Then strung lights on the tree.  It's starting to look, smell and sound a lot like Christmas.

Primo is back!  Oh, how I missed those hummingbirds...

And the hummingbirds are back!!  I gave the feeder a proper cleaning, filled it with two ounces of sugar water.  On Wednesday it took Primo most of the day to poke his beak around our patio.  Now Flighty is back too, even with the small precipitation.  Wednesday and Thursday the sun shone, but the next several days rain is forecast.  The hummingbirds seem not to care.  I guess they just wanted a clean feeder from which to dip. (And swoop and battle; yes, they really are home...)

Morrisons candles and ancient baskets that starting tonight will sport M&Ms and other small foil-wrapped chocolates.  (Thea always requests Butterfingers...)

Not that they have much to do with Christmas, but I am pleased, Thea will get to see them when she arrives, Jay too, which is tomorrow.  Why the house is finally looking like Christmas, smelling like the clove, cinnamon and mandarin M&S candles I don't light.  They smell lovely as is and I'd hate to burn them away.  The Morrisons candles are vanilla, two have been lit, not the third.  Morrisons, for those not British, is a UK grocery chain, the one we visited most often as it was nearest our house.  I still pine for English carrots, new potatoes, Morrisons brand mixed bread rolls (especially the herb ciabatta, oooh...) and the widest variety of black tea.  I won't even mention mince pies or fruit cake...

Ceramic figures that aren't much bigger than one's pinky.

Some of the decorations are from Britain, but not all.  The creches are a mix; one from Mexico, a gift from Bob's sister years back.

These are a bit bigger, resting on the mantle amidst the ivy...

One is from Oxfam, a charity shop in Britain; this creche is Peruvian in origin.

The oldest of my nativities, bigger than the other two.  The taller pieces stand about five inches.

The last is from our early days, when the kids were tiny, purchased here in the US, but I'm not sure from where.  The shepherd's head broke, and remains atop his frame via an attack with a hot glue gun.  All the baby Jesuses are tucked away, waiting for the 25th, but I do put out the Wise Men, as by the first of January my spirit begins to wane, time to set these pieces back in their boxes for another year.

What sat on my counter later in the day, but first I had to make it all.  White chocolate candy are the small lumps on top...

I tried to take pictures of the tree, but they came out blurry.  It's only sparkling with lights at the moment, the kids to hang ornaments when they get home.  But the scent of pine wafts along with candles.  The goodies are either covered in plastic or set into containers, some for us, most for others.  A tin for my parents, the rest for neighbors and friends.

Making fudge; I use marshmallow cream, but first the stick and a half of butter, three cups of sugar and 5 ounces of evaporated milk need to boil for five minutes.  Then the rest (chocolate chips, nuts and marshmallow) is added.  But I forgot the vanilla...

While the trinkets and baubles are mainly English, the recipes are strictly American, some from my childhood, the rest a mix of the years as a wife and mum.  I make the same things year after year, plenty of chocolate and nuts, butter and sugar.  Down a science it's become, fudge first then white chocolate candy as they need to set.

Hello Dolly bars before being baked.  Graham cracker crumbs are topped with a can of sweetened condensed milk, two cups chocolate chips, one and a third cups coconut, one cup walnuts...

Then Hello Dolly bars, followed by crumb bars.  Both need to cool before being sliced.

From left; Hello Dolly's done, fudge, crumb bards, pecan cookies.  White chocolate candy is just out of the photo.

Finally the pecan revel cookies, as they are the most labor intensive of the group.  I spoke to Thea today, throwing an after semester party, and she was making the pecan cookies, had the crumb bars already done.  Traditions handed down, a part of her history which she continues.  She's glad to be done with that term, passing a math class in which she had to earn a C to graduate.  One more term for her, but first, let's rejoice in the meaning of Christmas, whatever that holiday holds for you.

A trio waiting for their big day.  Not quite a manger, but certainly a safe place...

Three baby Jesuses slumber in my writing drawer.  I'm just waiting to place them where they belong....

R.I.P. Captain Beefheart 1941-2010...  Bat Chain Puller...

the Bermuda triangle

I meant to blog on Sunday, it didn't happen.

Meant to write yesterday; again epic fail.

Now it's Tuesday, and before I get started with yet another beginning on the latest not so gentle morning editing, I'm gonna blog, torpedoes be darned!

Been listening to The Everly Brothers, but I don't have Bye Bye Love.  I'll have to sort that later.  Plenty to do now, and the rest of the day looks similar; need to call my mom about weekend plans, when Bob and I travel to fetch the kids.  We'll meet with my parents, trade pressies, maybe run into my sis Lynn and brother Patrick.  I'm anticipating some ribbing from him for pinching his sweet potato pie over Thanksgiving.  But hey, you snooze, you lose.  Or you have a spewing baby and big sister gets the goods, heh heh heh...

I have written Christmas cards, with help from Bob.  He typed the letter (which I'll post here closer to the big day), I penned our signatures (only ours, as no kids dwell here anymore!), and the last ones head to the post office this morning, once I blog and edit.  Then some shopping, one reason for the limited blog entries.  Kids come home this weekend and I need to finish that task.  I also snuck in a trip to the ocean yesterday, staring at the waves from Capitola, having picked up a coffee and a slice of apricot/chocolate fruit cake from Gayle's.  That treat was de-lish, recalling exquisite British fruitcake, what memories!

Then there's a book I've been reading, The Pilgrim Glass by fellow ABNA'er Julie K. Rose.  She's just published her ABNA 2009 entry, and it's great!  If you're into historical fiction with a literary edge, please order a copy.  I'll give a longer review once I'm done.

What else?  Goodness, it seems like a deluge has fallen, like the rain that spills from the sky, oh I LOVE RAIN!!  The hummingbirds have been far and few between; they seem disdainful of the feeder, so I took it down yesterday, washed it, will run vinegar through it later today.  If after that they're still not satisfied, whatever!  I was hoping Thea would get a peek at them, but I have too much going on to kowtow to tiny birds at this point.

Christmas is eleven days away, my goodness!!  So much to do, like return to Gayle's for a slab of that fruitcake, perhaps with Thea and Jay in tow next week!  We need to get the tree, what else we didn't accomplish over the weekend.  Football was viewed; good news for me, not so much for Bob.  I came up with another story idea, a long sigh taken.  I have plenty to juggle already, but this was in my brain after reading about the death of a low-key fashion designer in New York.  I am NOT a crime/thriller/mystery writer, but I've also learned to never say never.  That will have to stew a while, too many other irons in the fire, especially this time of year, the days already squeezed.  I took a few notes, and will let it sit.  No writing is planned until the kids are back at uni, maybe the middle end of January.  In the meantime there's a plethora of editing, hummingbirds to placate (yes, really I will do all I can to lure them back, naughty little buggers!), Christmas decorations to haul from the garage.  Then time with my kids, and while it's a life of quiet to have reigned for months, I am so ready for their youthful voices.  And Jay's eternal hoo-haa that follows no matter where she lives.  I write that with a smile.  This time, the drama will only last as long as she lays her head under our roof.

Then it's all hers, the only turmoil to remain set away in my computer tower.  More angst than hummingbirds can cause, I'll tell you!

what querying means to me...

Something good.  Positive, a way forward.  I'm not ignoring the occasionally soul-wrenching (but equally strengthening) rejection side.  No querying occurs without that, but having steeled myself with more than a few nays, I've learned something else.  This morning it came to me, I think it was this morning.  Maybe late last night, when I was inundated with Murray Gold and the BBC National Orchestra of Wales; whenever it was in the last twelve-eighteen hours, I realized the upside of querying.

That is being aware enough (even if it's slightly misguided) not only to what one wants from a writing career.  But instead reaching the level of self confidence in that the act of querying doesn't make one run for the hills or puke on the floor.  Or not even the actually querying itself, but the idea of such.  And if querying commences, wonderful!  Another writer steps from the closet, brushing aside cobwebs.  And doubt. And all the niggling bits that nip heels as words turn to paragraphs, to chapters, to novels.  Deciding to query, even if all that is met are a plethora of no thanks, taking a pass, keep trying, a writer owns self-belief, the cojones to set it out there, the will and stamina and purpose.  The idea that what has been written needs to be seen, needs to be digested, needs a champion.

And that takes huge guts, HUGE!  It takes a mindset of looking over a section of text and thinking to oneself, Hot damn!  This is pretty darn terrific.  Yeah, that's it.  In order to feel so compelled to suffer rejection, we have to be sure enough of our craft, our output, our heart and soul to lay it on the line.  Now I remember why I had this idea; this morning, during gentle edits, no Dr. Who tunes in listening range, I read over a chapter and thought, my goodness.  I really like this.  I smiled, and it hit me then.  That's why I've queried.  because at least in my own mind (and a few others in agreement), the work has reached a point where offering a tale is acceptable.  Maybe even necessary. 

Now, maybe it's not necessary, that's in the eye of the reader.  But if nothing else, I've come to that point, where the notion of seeking representation isn't some pie in the sky effort.  Who knows what will come of it, but at the end of the day my heart lies in these stories, time and energy and tunes (of course music!), tea and hummingbirds, a husband and kids and mostly faith.  It's that faith I carry, my faith, a great hope.  Awareness too, self realization (perhaps unrealistic, but I don't think so) of my worth as a writer.  To just sit quietly on these manuscripts isn't necessary anymore.

nothing more inspiring...

I'm listening to the latest Dr. Who soundtrack, the Eleventh Doctor and Amy Pond and Rory Williams, etc, etc. 

All I can say is that for me, who uses music in the writing like taking in oxygen I'm just sitting in awe.

As soon as I get a moment, I think going on my Christmas list is Series 5 for the iTouch.  But first you have to pry me away from these songs. 

All I can say is good luck!!

thinking ahead and behind

As December struggles to assert itself here in California, the end of the year invariably clings, as Christmas lights adorn houses, shops spill with anything to do with the holidays.  New Year's Eve plans are already set for Bob and myself, going to San Francisco this year instead of Capitola.  We'll still see the sunset over the water, at Ocean Beach, but first a burger at Darla's will be eaten.  It might just be me and the husband, as Thea is attending a wedding at her campus location, catching a train back north that noontime.  Who knows what Jay will do; she won't until about ten minutes before it happens.  Bud's plans are up the air, but this is the way of things, kids out of the house, just me and the spouse, wandering around holding hands.

It's a strange holiday season here on the West Coast.  I spent the morning with some gentle edits, working on a project near to done, but ever in need of tweaking.  It's the sequel to an unqueried project, so it's not going anywhere for a while, but sits in fairly good shape, perfect for first thing work, as the fog of sleep dissipates.  Then I started the next big job, after getting the caffeine ingested and the brain kick-started.  I read through about four chapters, this novel written in three parts, the first being first person narrative.  But I think I put too much of the plot in that portion, so I worked until I reached the chapter that needs to be winnowed, don't wish to give it all away too soon!  It was a handy place to stop, in that I had a few errands, needing more yarn for some Christmas scarves.  Then I picked up some beef mince, and came home and ate a bagel.  I'll work on that main project again tomorrow, leave for another day what can certainly wait.

I'll have to ask my sister Lynn what this is; she knows all about plants!

But sitting in my kitchen windowsill were plants in need of new homes.  As it's in the mid 60's F outside today, I ate my bagel at the backyard table, reading over some of last month's writing, listening to the chirping hummingbirds that continue to battle over the feeder.  Why it's hard to equate December in this part of the country, because I can sit out and eat the bagel, carrots and dip, wearing sunglasses and a hoodie and jeans.  Is that really supposed to be the appropriate weather for this time of year?  After lunch, I repotted two batches of plants, one being baby spiders, the other flora for which I don't know the name, but I have a plethora of them.  I've repotted so many plants that I was down to using a plastic container for the spiders, the lid having disappeared.  That will be it for winter, no more plants receiving new homes until spring.  But the day is so gorgeous, feeling like spring is already here!  Is this really December, is it really?

Shells are from my last week's visit to the beach, seven baby spiders waiting to see the New Year...

And what does this have to do with writing?  Right now, not very much.  Right now it's an editing mood, also a month busy and full.  I have scarves to crochet, a house to sort, cards to pen (that will constitute the writing, let me just say), then kids to collect and embrace.  NANO seems like ages away; is it really only the sixth of the month?  And if that's so, what happened all year?

I wrote, oh yeah.  Queried too.  Thought about what being a writer means as Jay left home, as my days became full of a most lovely sort of work.  Watched babies come into the world in an early manner, then thrive.  Listened to hummingbirds whirl and wind chimes ping, and my heart beat a little more intensely.  But that's just me.  Every year, getting older, life is more focused, and it's funny, because I'm not all that different than this time a year ago.  But in so many ways I am.  This time last year I was considering querying sometime in 2010, but still wasn't sure enough of myself.  This time last year my youngest daughter lived at home.  This time last year my sister wasn't even pregnant, and now she has identical twin girls.  But it's still unseasonably warm here in California, I'm still up to my neck with things to edit, still repotting houseplants.  But the hummingbirds are new and so is the odd stillness that occurs after Bob leaves for work.  And my football team still bites the big one.

The 49ers lost to Bob's Green Bay Packers yesterday, 34-16.  If nothing else, San Francisco's dismal footie fortunes are unchanged.

But so much more is altered, the way of things.  I have no idea what 2011 will bring, but a few things will remain; the clucky plucky hummingbirds, writing, tea, sunshine.  Britain is drowning in snow and freezing temps right now.  That seems so far away from where I sit today, but then it has been coming on four years since those UK days.  Four years since I started writing and if you'd told me then that at the end of 2010 I'd be in California, a full-time writer slightly obsessed with hummingbirds, I'd not have believed you.

If you'd mentioned my lousy football team, that I'd have accepted.

post-NANO beach trip

So, NANO 2010 is done.  Last night Bob and I went for some pizza, then ice cream, celebrating that we made it through another November.  But that wasn't the only way to close the month.  I had plans for today, and once traffic had calmed and I'd faffed around here for a bit, I was in my car, on the way to Capitola.  I was going to the beach!

First, I stopped at Gayle's, as I'm wont to do.  Sat and ate a raisin-rye-nut roll with a decaf latte while reading a manuscript from earlier this year, one that I think is going to be my next in-depth editing project.  It's lit fic, sitting right now at 82K, in fairly good shape after a few previous minor edits.  I'll finish reading it by the end of the week, then dive in.  But before that I needed a day, one day to just unwind, letting November seep out, NANO and writing and feeling so consumed.  I become so completely involved in the writing that once it's done, I feel liberated.  I love writing, I really do, but...

When it ends, I'm thrilled.  For as much as I need to write, I need to finish.  A few days back, once I saw today was going to be pleasant, I decided it would be a great day for a short road trip, over Highway 17, then to the coast.  The Pacific Ocean was calling my name.

When I lived in Britain, I went to Betty's cafe A LOT.  Usually every Sunday, then sometimes mid-week, once the kids were older, busy with school and not needing my forever presence.  I treat Capitola the same, something that while we live in the Bay Area I am going to visit when I have the time.  It's petrol used and a little money spent on a coffee and a roll (Also some day-old focaccia bread that Bob and I love!) and time, time that for the last thirty days has been spent looking at a monitor, or up at the swooping hummingbirds.  This day it was me, a quick bite at Gayle's, then the ocean.

I love the ocean as much as I love writing.  I also love taking pictures of the ocean, and of clouds, but not quite as much as writing or the ocean solo.  But I took my camera and snapped away, noting the tide was low, it hasn't been that low since last spring.  I walked along the water, took pictures, admiring my surroundings.  I need that time, that proximity to something so much bigger than myself, lasting forever, existing for ages.  Something so permanent and huge, just to lose myself in the sense that no matter what I do in this life, writing or hummingbird watching, loving my husband or parenting (from afar) our kids, listening to music or crocheting or cooking or sleeping, the natural world wrestles in and out, waves never to end, sunrises and sunsets and sand that finds its way into crevices, backing away as the tide washes to the sea.

I can come here and blog about it, post snapshots online, write of what I see in books or hold those sounds in my head.  But one day it will be dust, forgotten.  Yet, that ocean, those skies, the cliffs and rocks and water, they will remain.

I'm a cog, and that's fine.  The beauty which envelopes is all I need to keep moving along.