While I do love driving... I also like being in my house, parked in front of my PC. Uncle Mike's funeral was touching, full of family, while outside the rain pounded. Two months of dry weather ended as my family said a fond farewell in a soggy service bringing nearly all of us together. The reception afterwards at my aunt's was warm, chatty, C.J. and Bea chasing after each other while T1 & T2 toddled and wrestled with each other, and with C.J. Then the talk was of Thea's wedding; life rolls right along. When Bob and I left, our hearts aglow, we stepped into wet and wind, so glad to have braved the weather.
(Another long-ish post, but it is the weekend; noveling chatter included.)
This morning it's calm; he's thinking of taking a walk. I'm gonna sit right here and blog, then edit. I drove home last night while he napped. By the time he woke we were more than halfway to Silicon Valley, and while he asked if I wanted to change drivers, stepping into that storm seemed unfriendly. Seemed downright miserable, and I kept my eyes on the road, spray everywhere, but few cars at that time of night, even here in the Bay Area. We arrived safe and sound and I hit the hay, not waking all night.
Not sure how I'll be feeling later; I am not as young as I used to be. But I have no big plans other than some moments here at my computer, maybe a run to the store. Pondering tomorrow's big football game, oh I so hope my Niners can win! Considerations to all my family, some of whom I hadn't seen in ages; my mom's sisters don't get together often, so that was a treat. Then back to the work; I have novels to revise!
Novels to edit, now that's an endless task. I'll work on that while Bob's off to the mountain. Authorhood is never far away, not when I'm back in my domain. On Thursday Apple announced their new iBooks Author program, aimed first at textbooks, but also to indies, but beware; if you create a book with the new Apple software to sell on iBooks, you can only SELL it via iBooks. You can give it away for free on other sites, but only Apple gets the distributor's slice of the cut, 30%. I'd not take that deal; being indie is about being independent. And if Apple decides to exclude Smashwords from iBooks, well, I won't be too sad; trying to find free ebooks on iBooks is like trying to pay attention to the road in dark, spray-covered conditions, dismal and confusing. Apple might publish books from Smashwords more quickly than any other online retailer, but trying to locate those books is worse than a needle in a haystack! (But here's a link to my Apple offerings, huge thanks to Smashwords author Russell Phillips for creating the tool for that very link!)
Lately my life has been full of road trips, medical tidbits, wedding hoo haa. I'm looking forward to a quieter, at-home sort of week, maybe a few in a row. The Thorn And The Rose is doing well, need to get cracking on the final revisions for the next in that series, Memories Of Home. The Alvin's Farm saga is six novels in total; really it's two trilogies, but you'll be hard pressed to read the last three without having digested the first three. I've been inundated in 1970s Alvin, Jenny and Sam and am itching to get to 2004, where the last three books begins. I've been inundated in life as well, from last fall when Bob's surgery moved into high gear, now with Uncle Mike's passing. And really, it's not going to stop, Thea and Brian's wedding revving its engine. Unlike other occupations, a writer lurches from novel to novel amid the laundry, footie, hummingbirds and road trips. Tied so closely; I told Bob that standing under the tent while Uncle Mike was being set into the earth was certainly going in a book someday. Mike loved country music, and as his casket was set onto the rollers, we sang "Home On The Range". I sat with my sister Lynn, her husband James, along with C.J. and one of the twins (I couldn't tell which as they had coats on, their bright bows hidden; T1 had pink, T2 was in yellow.) as the rest of our clan stood in a whipping, dripping wind, saying goodbye to a man who loved to dance, had his opinions, adored hats. One of my cousins made a photo slide show; Mike favored sailor caps if a cowboy hat wasn't handy. His smile was infections, and oh how he loved music, a man after my own heart! He kicked up his heels at Patrick's wedding, the last time I saw him. That was 2005, and I know in a few months, at Thea's party (I am referring to the reception as a party, easier to wrap my head around, thank you!) I'll look around, recalling Uncle Mike on the floor. He preferred country tunes, but would dance to anything.
And every time I hear "Home On The Range", I'll think to yesterday's sloshy, blowy precipitation. C.J., Bea and the twins won't know Mike, but in our tales of his exuberant love, he will live forever. Sounds like a good reason to write a book, no?
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