Summer is coming!

Today has been a good day to write. While I can't usually wait for a "good day" to write, some days it's hard to put my butt in the chair and do it. Days like Sunday and Monday. Both were 70 and sunny. Today it's rainy and hard to come up with excuses to "dance around the fire" as it were.

May is an incredibly busy month. It seems like everything comes to an end. Summer is twelve weekends jam-packed with an extravaganza of fair and festival attendance, family and friend reunions, and other sundry obligations and activities that keep us running most of the months of June, July and August. We don't have to live by the mantra "weather permitting" as the sun actually packs some heat and the breezes grow soft and balmy.

This summer I have an activity that I'm cooking up with one of the city council members to combine our Best Buddy group and the Master Gardeners in an effort to grow flowers and herbs along the riverfront. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm a big believer in therapeutic horticulture so can't wait to see what kind of benefits are reaped for the kids, along with the herbs. I'm sure it'll be amazing ... with the added benefit of slowing me down in the summer months.

I'll post an invite for the ribbon cutting of the raised beds. I hope you can join us! Take care and leave a few weekends open this summer. I may need you all to water plants for me! lol.
Much love and joy,
Karen

Eaglets

It's another day and I'm torn. I need to work on my therapy book but my fiction books are the most fun. Seems like I face this decision daily. To say nothing of marketing the book that is already out there ... and researching ... and editing ... and ....watching the eaglets hatch in Decorah. Yeah, I know I derailed a bit there. My family is from Decorah so it carried a little more meaning for me I guess, than the average person.

I watched the first eaglet hatch and was struck by the mother's constant gathering, positioning and moving around the eggs and chick. She fed the first little dude some meat that I assume was regurgitated, although my view was blocked a little. I wondered it this was her first batch of eggs. Do all new mothers feel the same way? Nervous, overattentive, continually adjusting our responses to the baby's cries? I watched the mother eagle and it seemed almost as though there was a tangible intensity emitted from her. The movements were broody and tense.

You never know when you'll need those kinds of details when you're writing. All experiences feed into the stories you write in some way. A writer friend of mine, when bad things happen in her life, is fond of saying, "It's all material." Yes ... and no. Some of our experiences serve to change our view, others feed into our bank of sensory awareness, still others we merely enjoy or get through.

Today I'll check on my eagles. Brood a bit over my book babies and finally settle in to feed one.
See you next time.
For goodness sake ... write somethin', will ya?
Much love and joy,
Karen