House of Wood and Word
Hiya sweet people,
This picture makes me happy for many reasons, not the least of which is that it was taken at my writing critique group meeting this past weekend. Such good soul food. This sweet pup is not mine, but isn't she great? Her name's Petra. *melt*
February has been busy, but all is well. Children have recovered from winter illnesses, our house renovation is well underway, and spring is preparing to spring. I've finished revising my new middle grade science fiction, TOUGH, and will be working to research and send out queries soon. In the meantime, RAIN MUST FALL is in the hands of a few folks and I have lots of fingers and toes crossed there. Poems and short stories are out and about as well, and I'm happy to say that a teeny (but mighty!) poem of mine will be published at the Yellow Chair Review in a week or so. So you see, busy. Which reminds me--
we often visit our local beach and wetlands in the winter. Even on sunny days, all is quiet. Lately, our beaver family has been very busy working on various projects around their pond.
I'm sure some locals despair at how destructive these beavers can be. They've felled dozens, maybe a hundred trees in this area. But I can't help finding their muddy, grubby, work beautiful.
Their structures are both intricate and alive. Every time we visit, there are new shapes and areas where they've reworked something. It feels like revision is simply a way of life for these industrious creatures.
We sometimes see them at dusk in the fall or spring, when they come out for a snack of horsetail or birch bark. They're entirely disinterested in our presence and go about their business with diligent focus and energy. Can't blame them. We don't offer much help.
We're working on our property too, or, more accurately, the good people we hired are working on it. Our house is over a hundred years old, so this is the sort of thing they find beneath the plaster:
Solid wood lathe. A bit more orderly than the beavers' work, but still a home of wood.
And here she is, hoisted in the air so that the basement and foundation can be altered for new space and stability.
This is all to say, I'm busy and working. Change is underway. I'm grateful for it all. Hoping this post finds you and yours well and, as always, thank you *so* much for stopping by. Means the world.
February has been busy, but all is well. Children have recovered from winter illnesses, our house renovation is well underway, and spring is preparing to spring. I've finished revising my new middle grade science fiction, TOUGH, and will be working to research and send out queries soon. In the meantime, RAIN MUST FALL is in the hands of a few folks and I have lots of fingers and toes crossed there. Poems and short stories are out and about as well, and I'm happy to say that a teeny (but mighty!) poem of mine will be published at the Yellow Chair Review in a week or so. So you see, busy. Which reminds me--
we often visit our local beach and wetlands in the winter. Even on sunny days, all is quiet. Lately, our beaver family has been very busy working on various projects around their pond.
I'm sure some locals despair at how destructive these beavers can be. They've felled dozens, maybe a hundred trees in this area. But I can't help finding their muddy, grubby, work beautiful.
Their structures are both intricate and alive. Every time we visit, there are new shapes and areas where they've reworked something. It feels like revision is simply a way of life for these industrious creatures.
We sometimes see them at dusk in the fall or spring, when they come out for a snack of horsetail or birch bark. They're entirely disinterested in our presence and go about their business with diligent focus and energy. Can't blame them. We don't offer much help.
We're working on our property too, or, more accurately, the good people we hired are working on it. Our house is over a hundred years old, so this is the sort of thing they find beneath the plaster:
Solid wood lathe. A bit more orderly than the beavers' work, but still a home of wood.
And here she is, hoisted in the air so that the basement and foundation can be altered for new space and stability.
This is all to say, I'm busy and working. Change is underway. I'm grateful for it all. Hoping this post finds you and yours well and, as always, thank you *so* much for stopping by. Means the world.
Comments