Ready for a change
I’ve tried to blog several times today. Each time, it just sort of fizzled out. I even went over to Romancing the Blog to see if any of the discussions there would spark the ol’ brain to life, but nope. Whatever I had to say, I said there.
I think it’s partly the weather/time of year. By this point in the summer (and here in Albuquerque, fall really doesn’t get going until mid-October, so I’ve got six weeks left, blech), I’m bored with my summer clothes, bored with staying inside because I don’t do heat/sun (hot flashes/fair skin, ’nuff said), bored with salads and “light” summer fare. I want to cook pot roasts, stews, TURKEY. I want to burrow underneath my down comforter like a little hamster; I want to get back into my sweaters and jeans and boots. I want to look out at my brown yard and not feel guilty about it.
I want to go for walks again, breathing in the scent of ripening leaves and fireplace smoke. I want my hot coffee (decaffeinated though it might be) in the mornings and my hot chocolate (Swiss Miss sugar-free) at night. I’m ready for that hectic three months of perpetual anticipation as Halloween gives way to Thanksgiving (TURKEY! Macy’s Parade!) gives way to Christmas (TURKEY! COOKIES! THE TREE!). For three months, I’m both the Mom Who Makes it All Happen and a child again, although since my youngest will be eleven, the magic is fading. A little. To compensate, the older kids now actually eat something besides rolls and black olives at holiday meals (although sweet potatoes still haven’t made the list, save for the marshmallow topping). And take food home, even. I’ll take appreciation in lieu of magic, I s’pose. 
Of course, by the time Jan. 1 rolls around, I’m sick of the holidays and the cooking and the shedding tree and the Making It All Happen. And my winter clothes. But right now, at the end of August when it’s too hot to go for a walk, baking cookies and stringing lights and wrapping up in sweaters with a cup of hot chocolate sounds pretty damn good.
Reading: CARPE DEMON by Julie Kenner. Having read and enjoyed Julie’s THE SPY WHO LOVED ME not too long ago, I happened to mention this one to our oldest when we were visiting him in Kansas a couple months ago. A huge Buffy fan, the kid (some kid — nearly 26, former Marine) immediately went to Walden’s and bought a copy, which he brought to me when he came home (and read while stranded in Minneap0lis — twice — going to and from Albuquerque to New York). I traded him my copy of UNDEAD AND UNWED by Mary Janice Davidson. Funny romantic suspense or paranormal, I can do.
#3 returned from his Grand Tour yesterday. Something tells me he won’t be doing that again anytime soon. Guess riding in a van for ten hours to play for six people didn’t really do it for him.
Hmm. Sounds like my booksignings.
