I don't know if it's a universally accepted truth or not, but I find that the more I read, the more productive my writing becomes. Since inhaling the two Patricia Sprinkle mysteries last week, I've experienced a burst of creativity and just finished chapter 39 tonight. I know I've said 'just five more chapters' several times, but this time, I really don't think five chapters will cut it. In any case, I am at the point where I'm wrapping things up. And lucky for me, the final chapters are already written (poorly) and will not need to be made from scratch.
So what else have I been doing lately?
First, it's consignment sale season. I've been spending more time than I have getting things together for two different sales. I'm packing up and moving out maternity clothes, clothes that are the wrong season for John, and Sam's old crib bedding. It doesn't sound like much of an ordeal until you stop to consider that each sale has its own "tagging system" which should be fairly straightforward, but isn't. Cut this corner off if you want to sell the item at half price the last day, write D here if you want the item donated after the sale, this corner if for your consignor number... One wants you to use actual price tags with bar coded stickers. This requires typing up an online inventory on their website. The other one wants 3x5 notecards safety pinned to the item... Maddening. And then there will be the primative right of shopping for consigned items with the other consignors. That in itself is a contact sport. But it's the price you pay to save money.
It's also end of season clearance time. If you hit the sales just right, you can find incredible bargains before things start getting picked over. We have a Goody's outlet in town who has crazy low prices on a good day, but over the weekend, everything was 50% off the clearance price. I bought a ton for rompers for the boys for less than 2 bucks a piece. Kmart has been having great sales too lately and I've picked up some adorable stuff for next winter for next to nothing.
On Sunday, I went to a Southern Living At Home party... like Tupperware but insanely expensive decorative items for the home. I didn't get anything, but I wanted to. They had a lot of black iron stuff that would have looked great in the house.
All of us here at home have a nasty lingering cold. I hate January in South Carolina. We never get good being sick weather. It'll be 15 degrees in the morning, 50 by the afternoon. The meterologists tease us with warnings of bad weather and we end up with freezing rain. To be sick with a cold in the winter, one needs snow, or a good ice storm. You need the kind of weather that makes you feel like drinking tea and hunkering down. The sky needs to be dark with clouds, so you feel like dozing all day. Not this crazy SC nonsense of spring-like weather by lunch time. It isn't even fair.
This weekend I have my bi-weekly meeting with my novel writer's critique group. I am so happy that I found this group. They are so funny, so helpful, so talented. It kickstarts my writing whenever I run out of steam.
Tom is about 2/3 of the way finished grouting the tile in the entry way. It is stunningly gorgeous. It never ceases to amaze me the things that that man can do.