Friday, October 2, 2015

Rain is Wet

Autumn has arrived. The leaves have been subtly shifting colors for a few weeks now. Every day on the ride home from work I pass a field bordered by woods and this evening the colors were more noticeable. It was raining. Colors seem to pop in the bleak grayness of a rainstorm.

Kelly and I ran down to the pharmacy tonight. First we had to go to the Halloween House up the street from us- these people go all out! First it was just the candy corn lights along the front of the house, then a little cemetery in the front yard. Now- there entire front lawn is full of homemade gravestones and each gravestone has its own spotlight! There is a full size grim reaper figure standing on the front porch) ah- reminds me of Talon! There are orange candles in all the windows upstairs and down, plus jack 'lanterns and other Halloween lights. It's quite dazzling! Maybe I can get a picture on a night when it's not raining.

On the way home we were coming up the mountain and there in front of us was what at first looked like a branch across the road. Turned out it was the red fox caught in mid-slink, tail out straight behind him. He was a long lean fella. I love how weasel like he looked when he turned, nearly bending himself in half before bolting off into some pine trees. He was gorgeous.

Copies of Auspicious Beginnings arrived before dinner tonight. It is still a wonder to me to hold something I've created in my hands. Ordered the proof copy of Talon: An Intimate Familiarity. I do not dare take that to work for fear of getting paper cuts as it is torn out of my hand.

Had a very nice message from my long time best friend who lives in New Hampshire. We were college roommates and have remained friends all these years. Her daughter won the name a Christmas book contest, suggesting the name for book two. I sent Katie her three Christmas volumes, then sent Carol a set of Christmas books plus several additional books I thought she might enjoy. She was happy and excited to receive her package.

Slowly, my friends are beginning to get the picture- I have been writing for over 40 years- in all that time, I have grown as a writer in leaps and bounds. I have been told my books are difficult to put down once begun- that must mean something, right?

Rain is wet. These are not tears on my face but raindrops. That's what I tell myself, but the small voice deep inside my head whispers it's own opinion, suggesting that tonight they are my mother's tears falling from Heaven as the 15th anniversary of her passing will be this Sunday. I have been missing her. Perhaps she is missing me? I wonder what she would think of her middle child now if she was still alive, sitting in her chair, holding one of my books, drawn into the story, turning the pages one after the other, unable to put it down...would she be crying tears of pride and happiness?
I can only hope that she would be.

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