Last week as I considered putting this new story aside, I ran a word count. 76,261 words. divided by 390 words/page equals 195 pages. I ran the numbers again and made certain I was using the correct words per page for a 5.5 x 8.5 paperback – Garamond 11 font.

Darn! That changed my perspective. If I have 195 pages of garbage, surely there is something here to salvage after all. I’ve done no edits except for a few changes with dates of particular events – moving them up a few years here, shifting some to the end for the plot line.

So now here I am once again. Trying to complete a first draft to send to my editor and to discuss with a few beta readers. In the past as I wrote scene after scene the book wrote itself to a certain extent. But I want this novel to be the best I can possibly write. I want it to jump to the head of the pack – way superior to my previous three.

So I am months, perhaps another year, away from completion, but 195 pages is just too much effort to throw out for now. It may still wind up in the trash heap, but I guess it’s worth another month of hard work.

I have a title at least (Jumpers) and major and minor characters (Sarah, David, Paulie, Stephen, Maggie) and some great scenes (I think). Hopefully they will morph into chapters and then into a complete novel. Time will tell. Fingers crossed.

I haven’t done anything that was this much fun in a long time. We are bombarded daily with such negativity in the world, it was great to simply be at an event that was happy and fun. Everyone there had broad smiles and loud voices and clapping hands. We were like kids in a candy store. Every minute the view changed and it was glorious. I had seen many photos and videos of the festival but being there was unbelievable. We had gracious hosts, perfect weather and impeccable timing. I hope I can feel this happy for awhile though I may have to turn off all media in order to retain it. I’ll add a few photos though pictures simply cannot capture the experience. Some of these were taken right over our hosts’ home. The necklaces kept our three-some from being separated among the throng of 30,000. The people in zebra stripes train for three years in order to be lead crew and they take their job seriously (thank heavens – lots of flames around those balloons.)  Hope you can enjoy it some time – well worth it!

These are thumbnail size prints. If you’d like to see a larger view, please leave us a message and we can provide them. Mike’s photography can be printed in a variety of sizes.

Last night I grabbed an old paperback off my bookshelf as I had nothing to read and my tablet was dead. I couldn’t remember how old it was but the pages were thin and yellow and the print so small I could barely read it with bifocals. The Future King – E.B. White.

I fell asleep quickly and this morning when I moved it to my nightstand, I saw a half dozen pieces of paper sticking out along the top edge. I thought I’d see what scenes or words had moved me enough to mark them. As I opened to the first one, what fell out took me back to 1967.

Not the words on the page, not some wonderfully written phrasing – no – a hall pass for a student in my 9^th grade English class – my first year of teaching at Eisenhower High School in Lawton, OK.

I was slammed into a past I’d prefer to forget: 5’2” and couldn’t see the back row of kids so I used a high bar stool behind a podium and walked around a lot. January following their teacher’s death. I don’t recall having any discussions around that issue with the students, but I pray that I did. Scared rabbit saved by a veteran teacher across the hall. Newly married a year and a half living in Army base housing. A war I protested as friends and pilots flew off on missions – weekend parties to say good-bye and fears I’d never see them again.

I won’t bore you with the rest plus there are dozens of scenes in the movie of my life I’m not particularly proud of – ah, youth. Just enough sharing on my part to perhaps take you back – to an item that jogs a memory each time you pick it up – a book you open – a box filled with cards and event stubs – what has jogged your memory recently?

Here in Arizona we know that Mother Nature likes to tease us with Fall. But after three days in a row of low 70-degree mornings, my patio furniture begged me to release it from its summer covers so I gave in. I kept telling it – “We’ll have one more monsoon and you’ll be covered with inches of dust. We will see 105 again; you’re just asking for your lovely orange color to be bleached out by the heat.”

It didn’t want to listen. Or I didn’t want to listen. I want to pretend we are out of monsoon season and we will only have 90 degree temperatures until Halloween when it drops to 60. So I gave in. Spent one morning hosing it all down and yesterday morning folding the heavy canvas covers and putting them on a shelf in the garage.

Sitting outside this morning with my coffee, I felt a bit chilled and I loved it! Like the cushions that needed to see the light of day, I felt released from my self-imposed claustrophobic summer lifestyle. You know the one if you live here in the desert. Up before dawn, yard work finished by 6:00, errands completed by 11:00 at the latest, hibernating until the following sunrise.

I hope I didn’t tempt nature too much by doing this, but it does look so pretty outside without those ugly tan canvas apparitions staring at me like ghosts through opened window blinds. The lively colors now brighten both my outdoor area and my spirit and I will enjoy any cool morning we are given from now on. And, yes, I know deep down that we aren’t finished with summer – just yet, but it gives me hope.

Just spent a few hours with my son after his latest adventure. His photography always amazes me so I wanted to share just a few from last week. I’ll post some additional favorites throughout the week. Way to go, Mike. Gotta love my two artistic children.

 

sunshine through the falls above.

 

So glad I was able to enjoy the beauty of the Gorge and Multnomah Falls last month in Oregon.  It was rather sad notifying my friends in Paris and Brussels of the wild fires threatening the Lodge and the Columbia River area. We were fortunate to be able to make the trip when we did. I am anxious to see photos once they get it contained.

All summer as I traveled I was surprised at the unusual hot temperatures all across the west coast and even in Minnesota and now to see the devastation in TX and potential damage to FL is shocking. At times I wonder if God is just really thoroughly disgusted with us on so many levels and giving us some strong warnings to treat the planet and our fellow humans the way we were supposed to.

The final straw for me this week was the possibility of seeing thousands of young people threatened with deportation. I was asked why schools didn’t require birth certificates and proper documentation when enrolling students. My answer was probably too simplistic: “because they are children and they need an education.”

The next question was why they don’t just become citizens. I have, on this very blog, provided web sites that clearly explain there is no path to citizenship. If these young people have to leave the U.S. for ten years and then reapply, what will happen to them between now and then? Where will they go?

It seems that politicians and even many of us fail to see past the end of our noses. It’s so easy to say deport them. Deport them to which country? Deport them just past the Mexico border? Deport them to families that for most do not exist? What are they to do if they arrive in Columbia or Mexico or Puerto Rico and speak only English? My only hope is that those in charge will begin to actually think beyond popular phrases like “build a wall”, “round them up”, “take back our country.” Clichés that help no one.

I know I have many friends who disagree. I am simply speaking from my experience and my heart. After all, it is my blog.   🙂  Food for thought…

Web sites:

Eagle Creek fire rages in Columbia gorge, threatens Multnomah Falls Lodge

http://ijpr.org/post/eagle-creek-fire-prompts-closure-i-84-gorge-evacuations#stream/0

US immigration: DACA and Dreamers explained

http://www.cnn.com/2017/09/04/politics/daca-dreamers-immigration-program/index.html

Running a freebie for the holiday if you know anyone who would enjoy The House on 4th Street or We’ll Find a Way.  Timing’s Everything is only 2.99 all the time.

August 26^th – and we head into September.

Labor Day used to mean that school started the next day. Leaves would begin to turn. You might go shopping for winter clothes – definitely new Oxfords (shoes for you under 50) and one new outfit for school. Dad would consider when to seed the garden or replace the window screens to winterize. The dreaded July and August heat of an Oklahoma summer without air conditioning was finally over. Wheat was cut and you could see for miles. Winter crops were planted and would sprout after our first frost.

But I live in Arizona now and school started between two and six weeks ago. It’s 105 degrees – 80 when you get up – and we look forward to October 31^st when temps typically plummet.

Fall clothes appeared with Nordstrom’s anniversary sale and Walmart’s back to school ads but trying on a sweater or wool coat is near impossible after you’ve just stepped in from burning asphalt. So we Arizonans continue in shorts and T’s and sleeveless dresses for two more months and ‘X’ off the days on the calendar toward November.

With climate change it’s just a bit different this year. I was recently in OR and MN and headed to OK soon, and they are having warmer temps and expecting a delayed fall. I’m having a hard time sympathizing with them I’m afraid.

For now I admire my new spruce green sweater and hounds tooth wool blazer each time I go to the closet for a clean short-sleeve top and tell myself – 8 more weeks … maybe 9 … hopefully not 10.

P.S. School is in session. Kids and teachers need our help. Ask if you can pay for one child’s lunch this year, donate some books to the library, or volunteer in a classroom. The highlight of my week is walking into the third grade class where I help with reading and I hear, “Ms. W … can I be first?”

So tiny you fit on a shelf

When I first brought you home.

Those big black eyes looked up at me

And you could do no wrong.

We’ve lived through a lot together

Three houses and three jobs,

An off and on relationship,

A move to the country.

You licked tears from my eyes and cheeks.

You snuggled close at night.

You came running when I entered

No matter where I’d been.

You loved water from the faucet

And chased your laser light.

You put up with bows round your neck

And friends who hated cats.

I cursed you at midnight.

I held you when you hurt.

I ignored you too often

And forgot to brush you.

I’ll miss your bowls and litter box,

And your green mouse pointer,

Your toys scattered around the house

Cushions covered in towels.

But mostly I’ll miss your friendship

And your unconditional love.

To Hermione, named after a Harry Potter character, who found me at the exact right moment and left us way too soon.