thinking about my life

Not sure which bird this is, but he was aggravated when I stood near, cutting Bob's hair earlier, as if we were invading their space!  All pics from today, 8 January 2012.

Sort of an ominous title; I bring it up because I gave Bob a haircut today and the drape around his neck wasn't tight-tight.  Before his surgery the Velcro barely attached; now there is nearly a two-inch gap!!  I gave him a trim right before the operation, thinking, 'What will this be like next time?'  Today I was reminded of what happened last month, what happened a year ago; a year ago Bob's goiter was diagnosed, and I decided to go indie.

Blood orange tree and dead basil plant; so nice out this afternoon.  I can't wait for that blood orange to grow, and we'll replace the basil in spring.

Nearly a year ago; a year ago I was still querying, but the idea was present.  Indie publishing was all around me, just everywhere I went.  That goiter threw a wrench into our lives, and suddenly my life changed.  I remember the afternoon when I told my husband I was thinking about self-publishing, standing in our kitchen with winter sun pouring through the window.  I love that man; he didn't laugh, roll his eyes, shake his head.  He listened, nodded, hugged me.  That was all the response I needed.

All my spiders are still terrorizing the back patio, door open, laundry basket waiting its turn.

It was an enormous decision, made at a time when life seemed precarious, precious, uncertain.  Should big alterations be made under duress?  Well, I made it, have never looked back.  It took months to get that first novel released, but in mid-July The War On Emily Dickinson opened the door.  Six months or so later, I'm preparing another book, watching Pittsburgh and Denver in playoff football, the back door open letting in the gorgeous California January afternoon.  63 degrees F outside, absolutely stunning.  And dry, brown hills looming large; we've not had any significant rain since Thanksgiving.  Why I cut Bob's hair today, then swept leaves from the patio, even hanging towels on the line.  I can hear hummingbirds buzzing, neighborhood hounds yapping and other birds chirping.  But mostly I note the beating of my heart, well, also the tapping of my fingers.  Fingers on keys relay the fantastic sense of what happened a year ago, when Bob's neck got in the way.

I dry the towels partly in the dryer, then hang them on the line; it looks sort of tacky, but helps the electric bill!

A goiter shoved query letters to the side, pushing forward hopes, dreams, desires; my deepest desire was publishing my manuscripts.  It's happening, bizarrely enough.  It is bizarre; how quickly time passes, what can occur within twelve months.  Or one month; Bob's neck has shrunk two inches in circumference in one month!  My 49ers bit the dust this time last year; next week they'll host a playoff game as the NFC's number 2 seed.  And novels, oh my goodness!  One begat another.  And another.  And... like that book in the Bible, all those names leading to more; titles and titles waiting for their moment in the sun.

The small satsuma is nearly ready, but we're really waiting for the oranges that overhang the fence; our neighbor's tree is generous and produces better fruit than our trees!

Which shines abundantly here in Silicon Valley.  Sun, footie, novels, my husband.  As my brother loves to say, I'm livin' the dream...

The lemon tree is like my spider plants, doesn't know when to quit.

Now, where is that chocolate chip banana muffin?