The New Year started perfectly for me. I had tended friends and
family, had house in order for winter, and was ready for writing. I wrote 9000
words furiously and had a strong beginning on a huge project, but life
intervened. The next weeks were measured by dying, death, and divorce (just another
type of death). Devastating days with heartbreak and exhaustion stopped all writing
and reading. The only thing I managed to achieve other than support for others
was a little family research here and there. Even that activity seemed circular
and left me frustrated or disillusioned in what I learned.
While the distress is far from over, some events settled
enough for a day away. The sun actually appeared and snow began to melt.
Although it was an effort to move the Ruby Slipper another mile, I wanted to
attend the Ozark Writer’s League meeting in Branson. So DH and I shoved
ourselves out before dawn for one more day on the road. This time to Branson. My interest was in a
critique group that was to occur in the afternoon. I was so brain dead (and so
darned cold in the auditorium) that the speakers were lost to me. We ate a
wonderful lunch with the most fabulous iced tea and returned for the afternoon meetings. The critique met but
was shortened. However, it was a wonderful experience for me.
We left shortly after the critique group and headed home.
The sun was still high and bright in the sky so we stopped in Ozark to take in
a flea market. There is one special flea market there that I just love, better
than most because it feels like a museum, a warm blanket of memories nicely
displayed. I wandered among the housewares of a far earlier time and marveled
at the stories they could tell. I saw mementoes from my childhood that conjured
up memories of easier years. A hand wrapped around a Howdy Doody glass
transported me again to the year I was five!
I found a few tokens to tote home. One was a wicker bowl
cover for picnics or outside eating. What fun since it reminded me to hope for
the deck lunches that surely can’t be too far away now. I found a cowboy handbag that was so clean
and fresh yet so cheap…just for fun. Then I might have made a mistake by buying
four plates. They are pretty but nothing like me at all! The colors are pretty
but I have nothing coral here. How will I work these in to all my blue and
whites? What shades go with these colors?
What was I thinking?
5 comments:
I'm sorry you had such a rough start to the year, but glad you have managed to find good in there, too. And you'll find a spot for those plates---your creativity will take care of it!
Hi Claudia,
Sorry your year got off to a rocky start, but happy that you did some writing.
Reading about the Howdy Doody glass brought back memories.
The tea cozy your friend made is lovely.
Hope you get some warm weather. It's supposed to warm up around here, and our weather is about 12 hours later than yours.
Those plates are certainly unique. I think they go just fine with blue! Adds a splash of color like sunshine. One day will go to that event. Glad you got out. Howdy Doody...you took me back.
So sorry life has been taxing for you, dear Bookie. Death is always sad and divorce, always devastating. So very sorry.
The plates are wonderful---unique----artistic. I'm sure you can work them into your tablescapes. Nobody anywhere will have anything like them. Plus, they look springy!
Thanks so much for your sweet visits and comments on my blog. I appreciate you soooo much. Susan
Oh, Claudia, my heart ached for you. Divorce is also a kind of divorce and a true heartbreaker. I married young, in college, and 4 mos. before our daughter was born, my husband left with one of my best friends. It was a long, painful time, for me and for my family, so my sympathies are strong.
Years ago I attended Ozark Writers Inc. conference in Eureka Springs. Two years in a row, actually, and while I attended all the activities and lectures, Jim had a wonderful time hiking and riding the train.
I'm glad you had an outing and bought some fun, colorful things. Now we'll hope for warmer weather and happier days.
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