Yes, be surprised-very surprised. It is still the month of July and I am posting again.
I could bemoan the fact that I find it difficult to find time to write, but that wouldn't be all together true. I do have time. Now.
Sort of. I am waiting to hear back from the literary agency that I queried last week. I am not patient. I am rather fearful.
I am also up to my neck in mess. I cannot say that I am a hoarder, I just am a pack rat. I am currently (well not at the moment) cleaning my basement. I had tackled two of the three rooms about six weeks ago. I began the third and final room on Monday. I now know why I left this room for last. It was/is by far the worst. I think I knew that there were things in that room that I didn't want to look at. I had a huge meltdown at one point yesterday. I opened a shoe box that had been on one of the shelves for almost ten years. When I opened it, and saw that is was a box of socks, and saw a certain pair I instantly fell apart. They belonged to my daughter, Liz.
She has been gone for over twelve years, and you would think that I would be further along than falling to pieces. It didn't last long, but it certainly came from the very depths of my being. I sobbed so loud and so hard it hurt.
I am glad that I know it is okay to have those kind of moments, otherwise I would have been scared. I was ambushed by grief, more by the shock of seeing something like the socks that Liz loved and had worn only a day or two before she died. Those cow spot socks that she loved and giggled every time she wore them. Our dog Buzz was a puppy at the time, not even a year old and he LOVED to chew socks. Liz got pretty mad when she saw that he had chewed holes in her favorite socks. Yet, she still wore them. Whew.
I have three huge boxes that I have to go through today. I am NOT looking forward to going through them, but I am looking forward to having a cleaned up basement. I MUST tackle this giant.
I will come up for air...