In The Thick of IT

 I just read back  an entry in which I was reflecting on the relaxing days of July and then went on to read about the challenge of facing August. Right on schedule I would say but in a mess never the less. This purging is hard. It is laborious, time consuming and fraught with emotional snares. I expected this but like some other challenges we expect, while in the thick of it, it feels overwhelming. I am trying my best to keep the end game in mind. I visualize my smaller space every day and attempt to take each task separately trying hard not to let the magnitude of it weigh me down. I spent a whole day just culling pictures , birthday, sympathy, retirement cards, my kids report cards, etc. At the same time I've emptied kitchen cupboards filling the kitchen table with excess glasses, mugs and dishes. I am packing boxes and shoving them in corners out of the way. The chaos and disarray is a mix of us moving out and Caleb and Jenna moving in. It is a transition and those are not easy. Last night as I was running out of steam I got caught up on what might seem like a simple decision to some, but a loaded one to me. Two papier mache rodents. Two dusty, crumbling well worn fixtures which have been a part of my office décor since giving up my classroom and becoming a full time author. A book project from many years ago brought proudly to school by an artistic little girl . She and her mom had crafted  a rat and a shrew(if I remember correctly) to depict characters from the book Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH . I could not just toss them in the garbage bag without some thought, some ceremony, some tears and reflection. They are still sitting waiting for my final declaration and I will let them go but not without some struggle. I am thankful that each glass, mug, and slip of paper does not hold as much emotion or require such attention. I must remind myself I am doing OK . I am moving forward. The transition will happen. In sharing this struggle last night I received lots of great advice. I will take it but in the end this process is mine to get through. So what if I get hung up a bit  in letting go of two faded rodents with missing eyes and brittle parts.

Double Digits Of August

 Twelve years ago yesterday I got a call from the president of the Writer's Federation of Nova Scotia to inform me of the results of my efforts  entering the  Young Adult category of  what was then called the Atlantic Writing Competition. I remember the date distinctly because minutes before answering the phone I had realized it was now the double digits of August and for the second time in thirty one years I wasn't concerning myself with the waning of summer days as I got myself geared up to go back to the classroom. I was retired and now a full time author ready to start my third book when the teachers went back in a couple of weeks. Upon reflecting on the date I also thought of what I'd been told when entering the Atlantic Writing Competition nine months ago. Winners would be announced in mid August. As I filled waterers and feeders for the chickens I thought of how I would be hearing about the results soon. I had spent a lot of my swimming time in July filling up on positive self talk and convincing myself that the book I'd taken a year off to write three years before would place somewhere in the top. I believed in the power of the book I'd written and the truth of the story it told. What joyous news to hear The Year Mrs. Montague Cried had won first place and the added comment that it had been a unanimous decision by the judges. I hadn't been wrong about the impact of Taylor's account of her year in grade Four with her teacher who was dealing with the profound grief of loosing her oldest son. My eyes tear up as I recall that year and all the years that have followed. And here I am  twelve years later waiting for copies of the tenth anniversary edition to be printed and for the story to be sent back out into the world. Through the open window I hear noises of an excavator beginning a driveway and the ground preparation for our new home. I spent the morning  tackling  another room of the house we built and raised our four children in which now belongs to Caleb and Jenna. I anticipate a writing retreat in Scotland and a much needed trip with my husband and many dear friends. Challenges, new beginnings, new adventures, change , growth and connection. This August is different than the one before and different than next  August will be but it holds promise and excitement and for this I am so grateful. I welcome the gifts the double digits of August bring.

My inventory of  my other eleven books as I wait for my first one to be re-released.

When August Comes

 It is an absolutely gorgeous morning. July has passed and I am truly grateful for each day it held and all the gifts it offered. Part of me wishes a finger could be snapped to bring everything in to place instantly but that is not the reality of any of this. This huge change is a process of acceptance and adaptation. July provided sunshine , lots of lake swims, head and heart preparation and time to absorb the blessings this home has given us over the years. I returned from a year in the city and have loved every day of being back  by stepping back and just taking in the beauty of each day. I have sat on the front veranda every morning and the back veranda later in the day soaking up the sights and sounds. The green hills, blue sky, cows, pigs, chickens , our beloved Disco, birdsong, and conversation. What a contrast from my solitary summer in the city last year. I had envisioned a more productive July filled with purging and disposing of years of living in this house but instead found myself just relaxing and reflecting. I know all the practical stuff will get done but I needed July to be exactly what it turned out to be. So now on to August. As a teacher August always meant getting ready to go back to school. Even though technically you were still on summer holidays your head was thinking school and there were things to attend to to make that transition. That is how this first day of August feels to me. We hope to ramp up the work of preparing the ground so that in October our new home can be delivered. The sale of the house is almost over the finish line and soon tackling the huge job of removing our belongings will happen. Caleb and Jenna will slowly make this house their home and we will move up the road. Patience, faith, determination, stamina, generosity, acceptance, courage, humor, communication and perseverance  are required as we face the days and weeks ahead. I look behind and see how far we have come and have confidence we can keep moving forward. Life comes in stages and increments and each brings challenges, doubts  and confusion. But beyond that each brings such joys and blessings. I am ready for August!