Joy in Solitude

These are my joys this week:

• Cinnamon. In pie. In cookies. In oatmeal. The smell alone is a joy. Beloved uses it freely and we were able to restock.
• Music. Laugh if you think of me dancing to Old Time Rock and Roll, and you won’t be far off. Daughter #2 sends music suggestions daily. Moonlight Sonata at least once a day, 1812 Overture and Rhapsody in Blue when I think of it, and romantic piano standards while working on my work in progress. I’m a Pandora fan.
• Flowers. The neighborhood has exploded.

• My door. Why? Because when the rain stops I can walk through it and check out those flowers. I can walk at the park and stay 10-20 feet from other people. It works.
• Birds. Always. Besides, lugging 10 pounds of seed out to fill the feeders counts as a work out with weights, doesn’t it?
• Coffee. Need I say more?

Last week I had a few bad writing days. I’ve discovered that if I stare at the screen for fifteen minutes and nothing gets written it is time to either a)do some research to keep my mind active, b ) work on character sheets to keep the story in my head or c) take a walk to think through plot ideas. If I do c I have to remember to write them down when i get back.

In spite of a couple of dry spots, I got Rob, the Wayward Son to the midpoint of my work in progress, the point at which he realizes he cannot simply go back to London and his precious independent life. Someone has injured his father and is attacking Lucy. He is needed. So this morning, on I go. But first, coffee.