Yesterday, I gathered my knee pad, gloves, and garden tools and set out to dig in the dirt. With a mind to battling weeds and plot holes, I crawled under one of the dwarf apple trees. A regiment of weeds had settled in during the winter.
Weeding is one of those chores I do on autopilot, which frees up my mind to wander where it may. Normally, it wanders into the book I’m writing and combs through plot and character tangles.
Yesterday, however, it didn’t wander that far. Across the road I heard the bleat of new lambs, the drone of a neighbour’s lawnmower, the sputter of a chainsaw. Overhead, birdsong competed with the distant clang of metal as someone worked on farm machinery.
These are sounds I hadn’t missed until I heard them again—sounds of spring and the promise of summer. It reminded me how fortunate I am to live in the countryside. I’m grateful I’m able to enjoy it.
After a few hours of weeding, I felt refreshed, recharged. I’m now ready to tackle James, a character who is causing no end of trouble in the next Gift Legacy installment.
Is anyone else hearing the sound of spring?
Now . . . back to writing!
It’s been an uncommon winter here on Denman Island. The ground froze for 6+ weeks, which is an unusual state of cold we normally count in days, not weeks. (No need to roll your eyeballs—we know we’re spoiled—we barely reach the “damn it’s cold” threshold for Canadians.)
I didn’t get outside much in November. The November 15 release of Betrayal (now Lover Betrayed) kept me busy. As always happens with a new release, I was plagued with promotion should’ve/could’ve/would’ves. Not to mention the inconvenient fact that I also have a life.
That “life” took me back to Ontario to spend a rare and snowy Christmas with my family. Despite my earlier whinging, I love a white Christmas. There’s something magical about crisp, white snow at Christmastime. And it may just be my ego, but I think Ontario went out of its way to emphasize the white this year. It brings me back to my childhood. I can count on one finger how many white Christmases I’ve experienced since moving to the coast (not that finger – gheesh!). The coast has many wonderful attributes, which I tout to no end in the Gift Legacy books, but a white Christmas isn’t one of them.
I’m now back on Denman Island
It demands my attention, and I’m beyond happy to oblige. In addition to developing my next series (the Dark Dreams novels), I’m writing the next chapter in Emelynn’s story. This is what it looks like when I’m organizing my ideas. Do you have thoughts about characters or storylines you’d like to see on one of those stickies? Now is the perfect time to tell me. Leave a comment, or contact me on any of my social media sites.
Like a lot of you, I’ve been in a whirlwind of cleaning, wrapping, cooking, baking, entertaining, and being entertained :). I’ve also been packing for a winter road trip back east to spend a rare Christmas with my family in Ontario. And also like a lot of you, rare is the morning when you wake up with a leisurely stretch and wonder how you’re going to fill your day. Especially this year. Leisure doesn’t even have a seat at the kiddie table.
Screeching Halt
But on the bright side, we’ll still have a white Christmas with my family, and we’ll still be able to visit with friends along the way. For us, it’s the people who make Christmas special, and the rest of it though nice, is simply glitter on the tree. Not critical, nor necessary, and easily done without.