Good bye Summer

With rain and strong winds, the leaves whirl down from the trees.  The furnace is on, the air conditioners taken out two weeks ago.  Our Halloween decorations are up.

Being stuck inside got wearing, so in spite of the rain Gary and I went for a walk to the supermarket to get some supplies. We wore lined rain jackets, stocking caps, and gloves.  It was cold. On the way back, I mentioned there was a garage sale so we went there, too.  It was inside the garage so at least it was warm. Gary found a honing strap from the 1920's, a stove lighter from the 1970's, and a bird book he hadn't seen before.  I found a coin purse. And that was likely the last rummage sale of the year.

But the thing that smacks of winter is the taco soup simmering on the stove. I made it with the tomatoes that were ripening on the kitchen windowsill.  I picked them before the first frost. There are still some onions to harvest, but tomorrow that will be done and the vegetable garden cleared.  We'll be eating our produce until the new year but then it will be back to store bought.

Spring seems so far away.

Because I was feeling down, I took a long nap.  When I got up Gary had done two things.  He bought me ice cream, always a cure for whatever ails anyone.  And he changed the opening screen of this computer with a photo of me sitting on a lawn chair on a sunny beach on the edge of Lake Superior, followed by a slide show of summer scenes.

Spring still seems far away, but I know it will come.

Getting the Word Out

Wade and I are still working on the paperback version of Black Coffee Fiction.  

Wade does the computer and design work.  He's the expert on working his way through the complexities of  getting our words out there.  He designed our blog ( http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com ), our e-book at Amazon.com (click icon to the right) and now a paperback. 

Today, Wade sent me an attachment with the final step toward the paperback:  the cover.  On Wednesday of next week we meet to check over everything we've agreed on and place our order with Amazon.  In a couple of weeks we'll have a copy to proof, then we place our final order.  We should have our books in hand by the first week in November.  

That's good timing because on Wednesday, November 14, we will have our first book signing at Sissy's Treats and Treasures, a coffee shop/boutique here in Seymour.  

Now that Wade has done his job, it's time for me to do mine:  the publicity.  

First step: at Sissy's we will have a joint signing with Susan, whose newspaper columns are collected in a book and Colette, who wrote and illustrated a children's book.  Susan will write up the event in her column and Colette will design a poster. 

Today, I sent e-mails to local newspapers and radio stations asking for our event to be included in community calendars. Tomorrow, I'll do the same for television stations and any Internet blog I can think of.

Next to come: longer press releases that go to newspapers and media news organizations.  We'll use social media to the max. Each of us has been involved in critique groups.  We'll expect them to support us. We will notify our friends and relatives and ask them to join us. 

We'll be doing another book signing in Appleton soon after at the Copper Rock North, the coffee shop where we began our odyssey.  We expect to do others, too. 

Our goal continues to be the same:  to send our words out to the world.  

*****

We are not done with our Black Coffee Fiction blog either.  This month, we're writing ghost and Halloween stories, starting with Bettyann Moore who is introducing another one of her characters, an Appalachian moonshiner called Potter. Check him out at http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

 

Nose Business

Today I finally went to see an ear, nose and throat specialist.  

Dr. McAvoy had a medical student with him so not only did he look up my nose, but so did she.  This bothered me not at all.  I seem not to have the modesty gene.  When Chris was in the process of being born 38 years ago,  a dozen student nurses came to watch and each one had a chance to measure how many centimeters I had dilated. Any women reading this will know what that means, but I figured these young women had to learn somehow, so it might as well be me.  

The next day, the girls came to my room with a present for my baby to show their appreciation.  I think they were also impressed that I had managed to expel an eleven pound baby.

So having a student look up my nose was no problem.  I told her she was selecting the right specialty.  Looking up a nose is nothing compared to what a proctologist has to look at. 

Dr. McAvoy said my problem was pyogenic granulomas which are small, reddish bumps that bleed easily due to an abnormally high number of blood vessels. 

Later, Gary looked it up and found out that pregnant women are often prone to pyogenic granulomas. 

"Is there something you aren't telling me?" he asked. He has always told people that we will get married when I get pregnant.  At 68, I am fairly certain he is safe.   

The solution to my nose problem was cauterization of the area followed by application of an antibiotic salve. The salve will go on for a couple of weeks, but then I will be able to do everything I've avoided.  

I haven't been able to go to the aquatic center because a bad nose bleed could lead to the pool being closed for cleaning.  Lifting weights has been out.  I couldn't even go on a walk without taking precautions. Each time I've left the house, I've been careful to my cell phone, plenty of tissues, and a nose clip the ER provided.  

With my nose problem solved, I can once again plan tours. I will re-schedule my Illinois trip to late April 2013. I am thinking about a summer tour, perhaps a repeat of what I did this past summer. There are still places I want to visit in Ontario and friends to visit in Minnesota.  

Nothing can stop me now.   

Black and White Kitties

I have a black and white kitty.  Gary sometimes calls him a Holstein cat. 

Not long after he arrived, he took charge of the house. During the day, he demands certain food. If he is served something he doesn't like he sniffs and walks off in a huff. Every morning he comes to me for his bit of hair ball medicine, which he needs daily for digestion as he ages. He requires his door persons to open and shut the doors so he can sit on the deck and keep track of the goings of Mittens, Koala and other cats that wonder through his domain.  He snarls at them, fluffs up his fur, but he is far too old to do more than have a hissy fit.  

At night, he must accompany me upstairs for his evening ritual.  He sits on my chest and stairs into my eyes as I scratch his ears. He must stay there for at least ten minutes as I try to read, moving the book around so it does not disturb him.  If the book bumps him, he head butts it out of my hands.  A guy has rights. 

My friend Susan has cats, too, three of them in her house and more outside.  She and Bob have a farm.  Horrible as it is, people drop their unwanted pets off in the country and some find their way to Sunnybook farm.  But three cats inside is enough.  When a female cat arrived, she had three black and white kittens in the barn then abandoned them. They follow Bob around because he feeds them, but he is worried about the little guys with all the farm machinery around.  How often before they are run over?  When the big combine is rolling, he locks them on the porch. 

Gary parks his camper out there on the farm and he, too, is careful not to run down a kitten.  As he was putting away camping gear this morning he caught a glimpse of a black and white kitty out of the corner of his eye.  

He turned and caught this photo with his phone:

It was a young skunk, still a kit, frolicking and playing around the farm machinery.  

He sent the photo to Bob:  I came out to get more stuff from trailer and saw a fourth black & white kitty that Bob must have overlooked. I was going to put it on the porch with the others but it eluded me. Maybe Bob can round it up.

I'll settle for Rascal. 

Being Babied

Gary came home and set about babying me.  He's been doing all the housework, keeping the cat at bay, letting me sleep. He took me to Dons Quality Market to get more provisions though we already had enough food to last through winter's blizzards and cold. Then he sorted all the canned goods. He hooked up a space heater in my office so my feet will stay warm.

He set up an extra phone in the kitchen.  He swabbed out the toilet.  He changed the sheets on my bed. He did the dishes. The house is cleaner than it's been since last Christmas.

He bought me ice cream and dark chocolate.  Every hour on the hour, he comes by and pats my head.

One more time and I bite his hand.  

Feeling More Secure

Gary was planning on packing up his campsite and coming home tomorrow, so I was surprised to see him today.  He said I seemed a little fragile and he thought he better hurry home.

He was right.  I usually work in my fuzzy bathrobe until almost noon. That's how I write and I point out to people that come to the door that the minute I put on jeans and a sweatshirt, I'm done working for the day.

But since I kept thinking I could be back in the emergency room at any time, I dressed up as soon as I woke up, looking for old clothes that I could throw out if they got too covered in blood. That is not exactly a good thought to start a day with but so far I've thrown out two shirts since the nosebleeds started.  

On Saturday, the doctor told me not to blow my nose and not to sneeze.  That is crazy.  The only way to ward off a sneeze is to blow your nose.   So all day long, I kept gently wiping my nose.  Even being careful, by 9:45 there was a big KERCHEW!!! I dabbed at my nose and was so relieved not to see any red on the tissue.

Now that Gary is here I feel more secure, knowing that if something happens, he will be there to apply ice, help me find a nose clip, provide me with tissue, and if need be, run me to the ER.

Getting old is much easier when you have someone to share such experiences.

Day Off

After the past two days, I needed a day off.

I can't go far until the bleeding problem is solved, so I only went downtown to buy a couple of minute steaks to build up my blood again.

Then I sat down for a good bit of depression.  There is no point in being upbeat, the tour is gone, the lovely Illinois autumn will not be mine.  I won't get to visit old friends.  I've prided myself as being reliable but first thing in the morning, I have to call every venue and tell them the bad news.  I don't like thinking about that.

Tomorrow I'll pull myself together and get on with things. I'll call the doctor and figure out what the problem is.  I'll take care of rearranging my money situation.  Since I'm not going south on Tuesday, I'll use that time to work on press releases and book signings for the new books.  I'll think about next summer's tour and go back to work on the novel.   The hours I would have spent driving will be turned toward literature.

Meanwhile, I sit with Rascal and listen him to him purr and read old mysteries.  I eat chocolate and drink herbal tea.  I keep tissues and the nose clip the ER provided close at hand to be on the safe side.

Yes, I will recover and even turn the time to profit, but today I have every right to feel sorry for myself.