Melting

For the first time in weeks, the daytime temperature here in Seymour reached 40 degrees.  By the end of the day, yesterday's snow had melted off the sidewalks and the driveway was almost clear. I pulled the car out on the drive to defrost with the hope that the brakes would warm up and become workable again. No luck so far, but Sunday and Monday's sun might do the trick.

The streets and sidewalks were still slippery so once again I didn't go out walking and stayed home. Breaking a leg before spring doesn't appeal. These days between snow storms are the most dangerous. It's either walk on sidewalks and risk a fall or walk in the streets dodging traffic. With the brakes out, I am stuck here.

With a lack of exercise Seasonal Affective Disorder has gotten worse.  I sleep eight or nine hours a night and take two hour naps most afternoons.  The full doses of Vitamin D-3 and St. John's wort, a light board and lots of dark chocolate aren't working any more. I can't concentrate enough to get any work done. I am not answering e-mails or letters because my missives sound too, too depressing. I don't even talk to Gary or Chris in his family all that much.

Yet, I know that I am coming to the end of this. March is a few days away, the spring equinox only 25 days. A year ago, there were snowdrops blooming on March 11. We were even out in a canoe on the Wolf River in mid-March last year.

So I watch DVDs, read books, let my wander, and sleep a lot.  It all will be over in a week or so.

Chain Mail

Before there was e-mail, there was chain mail.  Those were letters you sent to ten people you knew, telling them that they had to send it to ten people they knew.  Sometimes the people were supposed pray.  Sometimes they were supposed to tell ten people they loved them.

Sometimes it was a recipe exchange.  Write down ten recipes and send them to ten people.  Or ask everyone to send children's books and on and on and on.

Other than time and postage, those weren't especially harmful except that they said if you didn't comply you would have bad luck. I never participated, and nothing bad happened.

There were those that asked the recipient to ask ten people to send $10 two senders before the letter they got.  It was a scheme. Chain letters were made a federal offense with penalties through the post office.

Now we have social media and we get the same thing.  We get e-mails telling us to pass on such stuff or something bad will happen to us within a month. We are ordered to post on Facebook to say we love our sisters, mothers, fathers, or whatever.  Some days half  the posts I get are like that.  Mornings seem to consist of delete, delete, delete, because, sorry, I delete all the e-mails and hide the messages from Facebook. I haven't the time. If I want to tell someone I love them, I tell them. I do not send messages out to cyberspace.

It's ridiculous waste of time.  I wish people would cut it out.







  

Frozen Brakes

This morning I got on my hands and knees and took a look under the Mercury Sable.  It was as I thought, the slush had frozen and coated the bottom of the car.  During the winter, ice chunks form behind the front wheels. Usually, it only takes a kick to knock these chunks off, but they are frozen solid to the car tonight. 

Sandy at Sissy's reported that the same thing happened to her yesterday.  

So instead of taking the car to the mechanics to look at the brakes, I am letting the old girl rest in the garage. Over the next week there will be days of higher temperatures and soon there will be the thumps of falling ice. 

How do I know this?  Because at my age, everything that could go wrong, has. This may be the fourth or fifth time I've had iced brakes.  I recognize catastrophes and I know I can deal with them.  No expensive mechanics for me.

I can't take the car out anyhow.  Another winter storm is headed our way, the same one that has been pummeling the Midwest for two days. Because I'll be holed up, I've taken up my mixing bowls. Tonight I started with double Dutch chocolate cake.  Tomorrow it will be banana bread and a pound cake.  I'll freeze the baked goods up in small packages and throw them in the big freezer.  

After that, I'll go out and shovel to wear off all those calories.  

The Brakes Go

Even with a window sill full of spring flowers, winter drags me down. 

The morning started well with a Skype session with Wade to discuss our joint venture at Black Coffee Fiction. We agreed to sell our books at Sissy's in Seymour during March in April.  I don't have any good bookings where I could sell the books until May.  It was so good to talk to Wade.  I hadn't seen him since before the tour began in January.  We agreed to Skype every Wednesday.  

So the day began well.  In the afternoon, I decided to drive to the Oneidas' buffalo farm on Coopers Road to look for the rough legged hawks Dan told me about two days ago. The roads were still slushy from yesterday's snow so I proceeded with caution as I drove down the road.  Good thing because when I spotted a big bird on a tree, I hit the brakes and nothing happened.  I came to a gradual stop.  

First things first, I got the binoculars and checked the hawk. Just then he flew off, showing me all his markings.  It was indeed a rough legged hawk. As he disappeared, I saw another and another and another, four in all.  Dan was so right. 

My plan was to go on to the area west of Freedom where I had seen snowy owls before, but the brakes changed that plan.  I tested the brakes and found out they still worked a bit.  If I took it slow, I would be all right.  

And so I was,  I manged to get the car back to the garage.  Now I have to wait because that brake failure could easily be the result of the icy slush I was driving through.  It's happened to me before.  I won't take it to the mechanics until I know for sure and it will take a thaw to find out. That might take another week. 

I hate February.  

Another 180 degrees

Over night, the lovely weather disappeared and was replaced by another snow storm that was supposed to be rain.  No walking today but the shoveling was exercise enough.

Once the driveway was cleared with the help of the neighbors, I could get the car out.  I had to go vote.  At 2:00 pm I was the 67th voter.  Not a big turnout because it was a primary for a Wisconsin supreme court justice.  In fact, the primary was important because just like the United States Supreme Court, our state court has a 4-5 split with conservatives in charge.  This election could change.  My vote is important. But even if it weren't, I would still be at city hall to hand in that ballot.  I've only missed five votes in my life.  It is a duty, a right, a privilege.  I can never understand why people don't vote even on a snow day.

That done, I went to the library to pick up a collection of Eudora Welty short stories. I try to read several short stories a week for inspiration.  I just finished two books by Junot Diaz.  Fascinating stories about life in the Dominican Republic and the slums of New York City, but not my style. Next comes Welty.

Back home, my mail carrier was coming down the street. Patti bought Black Coffee Fiction. She reported she liked all the stories, but particularly "The Sandbar".  I've been hearing that from some readers, but others think it's terrible. I like that.  A story that doesn't bother anyone is probably not worth writing.

Once home, I took inventory of my little indoor garden. The herbs and tomato seedlings have sprouted. In a week, I'll have to thin them out.  On the bay window ledge in the living room, the tulips are beginning to bloom, joining the daffodils.

When I look out at the winter snow, I see spring, too.  Twenty-eight more days to go.

Turnaround

The weather channel told us here in Northwest Wisconsin that we could expect sleet by afternoon. It seemed I would spend another day inside but I woke up to Rascal Cat and sunshine.  

I checked the hourly forecast and it looked like I would stay dry at least until eleven and the thermometer stood at 35 degrees, so out the door I went at 9:45.  I walked downtown and stopped at Sissy's to talk to Francine and Sandy.  When we had our book signing on Saturday, Francine told me we could sell our books at their tea shop.  It would cost us $4 a month for a four foot wide shelf, plus they would take twenty percent on each sale.  We would have to rent the shelf for two months.  

I talked to Susan, Colette, and Wade.  Each of us would pay $2 for the shelf.  We wouldn't make as big a profit on the books, but it would have the books out there until we have another opportunity for a book signing, a stint at the Seymour's farmers market or in my case, a workshop and a tour in Canada.  If we don't sell any of the books at Sissy's, our loss would only be $2 each but I feel we'll do well there. I feel better having the books out there, rather than storing them in my closet until summer. 

I shopped for groceries at Don's Quality Market. I follow sales carefully.  Today I saved forty percent on my purchases. I brought them home, put them away and out the door I went again.  There still was no rain. I found some cat food for Rascal at the Dollar General on Highway 54.  When I got home, miracle of miracles, he liked it and he has been very fussy lately. 

Out the door I went again.  The weather channel is forecasting cold for the rest of the week so this was my big chance to get some exercise.  I went to the library, but my friend Dan was standing outside his house next door to to report on birds.  There are rough legged hawks out on Coopers Road, he told me.  We thought I might find snowy owls in either Hofa Park or the Freedom area.  It will be cold for the next of the week, but I will take a drive with my camera and binoculars to see what I can find. 

I returned a book at the library and finally arrived at home, footsore and happy. I finally had a good day of exercise, transacted some business, and found out where the birds are. 

Marketing

When we decided to self-publish our books, Wade and I undertook to do the editing, designing and marketing that would be done by the big publishing houses.  We selected the stories from our blog and edited them.  Wade did most of the designing and now I am doing most of the marketing.

I should point out that when a publishing house printed my children's book, Jason Goes to Show-and-Tell,   in 1992, very little marketing was done except for putting it in a catalog.  I arranged my own book signing and wrote my own press releases, so I was ready for the task of marketing this one.

I don't intend to spend entire days at this.  No, I want to write and so dedicate only ten percent of my time on promoting my writing.  It is the same with my storytelling work.

So I set aside an hour each morning to spread the word. I use social media, posting on Twitter and Facebook.  I search for literary websites.  I notify big publishers about what we have done. I set up book signings.  I will be teaching workshops.  

Every morning, I send e-mails to libraries around the United States to tell them about our books and suggest their book clubs look at the blogs and books. I've covered ten states so far. I volunteer to Skype during their club meetings, though so far, no one has taken me up on that.

I am not very technologically  literate so everything I work on takes me a long time now that Wade is not here to take care of things.  So when I decided to add the cover of my romance novel to this blog with a link that can take the readers who are potential buyers directly to Amazon.com I wasn't sure I could handle that.  Wade did the Black Coffee Fiction link.

I'm on my own now, so this morning I decided to spend my hour working on the link for Yesterday's Secrets, Tomorrow's Promises.  I went to the Amazon.com marketing website and figured on my usual methods of making lots of mistakes and swearing a blue streak. Certainly the instructions for the e-book had driven me to near insanity for almost a week.

This time the instructions pulled me right through in a mere fifteen minutes and the result is to the right of this posting.

I like to think I am getting better at this.