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Went to bed last night wrestling with the end of my WIP. There is a fairly dramatic scene towards the end of the book. It was throwing me off because it was SO dramatic, I couldn’t figure out how to conclude the story after it. And if I ended the book with that scene, most readers would have thrown the book against the wall and cursed my name for all eternity. Not nice.

So I went to bed grumpy.

Woke up when a wicked thunder and lightning storm rolled through around 5am. We shuffled around the house making sure the windows were all closed and I unplugged this computer because, well, just because you never know. Then I snuggled back under the covers (very grateful I didn’t have to get dressed and wait at the bus stop in the pouring rain) and thought about how to end the book.

And then I figured it out.

It has something to do with this photo of a spider I took on the drive up from Florida. This guy was almost as big as my hand. Someone had spraypainted him orange – probably out of sheer terror. He was orange and he was dead, but he was still scary… and inspirational.

We finally made it to the gym today, after an absence of many months. I think the reason it is so hard for so many people to get into a regular exercise routine (including me) is that we feel like idiots when five minutes ambling on the treadmill leaves us breathless. Assuming I don’t wind up in a body cast because of aching muscles, we’ll go again on Wednesday.

Before I can dive back into my WIP, I have to do some insurance things for my parents. Helping them through these changes is a real eye-opener. That is part of why I finally dragged my sorry butt to the gym. I also need to nail down travel plans for next month’s road trip. Two high schools which had invited me to speak had to back out because of funding problems. But now it looks like some other schools are interested, so the impact on the family budget should be minimal.

The trees are turning color up here. When you drive down the country roads to our house, you can smell the apples in the air.

The problem with taking so many days away from Livejournal entries is that I don’t know where to begin when I finally sit down to update again.

How about this? The worst thing that happened to me this weekend: I took a sip of cold coffee a minute ago and something tickled my lip. I looked in the cup. A fly was doing the backstroke in my coffee. Ack.

I have spent the last ten minutes gargling.

Best thing that happened to me this weekend? Going to the Syracuse Farmer’s Market with my dad. We bought veggies and sunflowers and fish and doughnuts for my mom.

So here are the details about Operation Elder Caravan. Continue reading “The massive catch up post”

Just a quick note – I made it back with both of my parents and my Beloved Husband who shall be called Sainted Husband for a long time because of his actions way above and beyond the requirements detailed in our marriage vows.

I have a lot of mail to catch up on. Once that is done, I’ll respond to the questions that popped up about the SPEAK movie in comments last week.

I’ll write about the Elder Caravan adventure, too, but I’ll put it behind a LJ-cut so you won’t have to read it if you don’t want. I didn’t take many pictures (too crazy for that), however there is one photo from a gas station in Florida you have got to see.

Talk to youse tomorrow!

OK, guys, hang on tight while I suddenly shift gears.

I’ll try to answer the questions many of you posted in the comments yesterday and the day before… but if I can’t get to them right away, I beg forgiveness. I leave at 6:30 tomorrow morning to fly to Florida to help my parents move back North. (Beloved Husband follows on Saturday. He’s the lucky guy who gets to drive the truck.)

I’m calling this Operation Elder Caravan.

My parents are …. well, there is no other way to say it – they’re old. Dad is 78 and in pretty good shape except for his knees don’t work so good and every once in a while he gets gout which hurts A LOT and makes simple things like standing up and walking almost impossible. He tries to keep his spirits up by repeating to himself that gout is a disease of kings (Henry VIII of England had it), but somehow that doesn’t quite take all the pain away. Mom is 74 and no one is sure why she is still alive. She has metastasized breast cancer, a damaged heart, coronary artery disease, and emphysema. If any of you need motivation to quit smoking, I would be happy to have you spend five minutes with my mom. Her last years have been very painful and depressing, and it’s due to her lifelong cigarette habit. She started smoking when she was 17, and smoked for four years after she was diagnosed with emphysema, and quit only when they put her on oxygen 24/7… and then only because they pointed out that an open flames near oxygen would blow up the trailer. (DON’T SMOKE! DON’T SMOKE!) My mom is as tough (and stubborn) as they come.

So this trip is sad in some ways. And scary – I am petrified by the thought that one or the other will have a heart attack when we’re stuck in traffic. (My rational brain knows the chances of that happening are very small, but my disaster-driven irrational brain is in charge these days.)

Some of you might be asking – why drive from Florida to NY with two ornery, sick, old people? Why not fly?

Because if you are on oxygen a) very few airlines will accommodate you and b) doctors only advise direct flights. The logistics just wouldn’t work.

Except for the part where I’m afraid they’re going to die on me, I’m looking forward to this. Heaven knows I’ve had a lot of issues with my parents. But I am who I am because of them, and I owe them both a great deal. They are the ones who taught me to laugh when things get tough, they taught me to put family and God first, and that a life of integrity is the only life worth leading. They still say and do things that make me want to roll my eyes, stomp out of a room, and slam a door like a thirteen-year-old, but I irritate them, too. It’s part of the package. Mostly, I’m grateful they have lived long enough to watch their grandchildren grow, and to give my sister and me the opportunity to take care of them.

Please remind of the above paragraph when I write an entry in this journal that is just “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! THEY’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

Parents are weird.