If you don’t have time, you need to make time for fun now and again. This was my week for making fun time.
What could be more fun that a day with girls–sisters and daughters–and the happiest baby in the world?
It’s our tradition to do a shopping spree at Saks in Tyson’s every year for Kat’s birthday. The team we work with there aren’t just the best, but have become family over the years. We start off in an area they’ve closed off for us and transformed into a garden–with a harpist!
Oh, the peonies! So fragrant, and fat as soccer balls.
Griffin likes the music, and also the selection of handsome baby clothes to pick from. Nana shows his some options. Yeah, that’s okay, hmm not bad. But when she holds up a little man suit, this is met with enthusiasm. Obviously, every handsome boy must have a little man suit.
We have delicious shortbread cookies–butterflies, dragon flies, blue birds–and an incredible cookie birdhouse made by Lily from the Graff department. She’s an baking artist. Some of these I have to take home for Kayla as my girl is extremely fond of Lily’s creations.
Then it’s time to get serious about wardrobe for girls.
Griffin hangs with us, hangs out with the team, has a walk-about and even takes a nap. When we break for lunch the teams presents us with an amazing gift. They will have a dogwood tree (which happens to have been Kat’s mother’s favorite) planted wherever Kat wants, and have included a really lovely plaque. It’s so touching, so thoughtful.
Kat and Jason will find a spot in their lovely yard where they’ll be able to watch it grow and bloom.
We have a simply wonderful day, and are now outfitted for all our summer adventures.
Because fun days should be expanded whenever possible, we learned years ago to stay overnight. After a post-shopping room service dinner, we have to say bye to Mary and Sarah–both have obligations in the morning. But Laura, Kat, Griffin and I get comfortable.
Griffin isn’t interested in sleep because this is too much fun. Laura can make noises by rubbing her fingers over the sofa, and there’s nothing funnier than that. Still, eventually it’s night-night for all.
I wake as usual about five-fifteen. But I wake to the sound of a baby laughing. About the best wake-up call ever. I join Kat and Griffin and a glorious sunrise for amusement with hands and sofa noises.
Mama’s tired, and Nana’s up, so Kat can catch more sleep while I get more play time. The boy doesn’t last long before he starts the eye-rubbing, head scratching that says: I need a nap. While he naps, I get my workout in–a good deal for all.
All good things must end, so we pack up–it’s quite a load–and head out. Happy Almost Birthday, Kat!
Back to work for me, but a slightly shorter day of it Friday as my older babies are coming to dinner. A good time to catch up on what’s what at the end of the school year. The two oldest will be joining the work force this summer around vacations–a very nice balance, imo.
We’ll be having fun with Logan shortly as it’s his turn for a summer trip, and it’s coming right up. Details to come.
Saturday, it’s work out, get in some quick gardening because we’re spending the afternoon in Baltimore at an O’s game. Kayla’s going with us. Logan declined as he considers baseball boring.
I love the boy, but this is heresy!
It’s a perfect day–low 80s, low humidity, sunny, and there’s nothing prettier than a baseball field. And no field is prettier than Camdon Yards.
We’re a happy group, guests of my broker and his team. Kayla and I settle in to watch them finish prepping the infield as the stands fill up.
And here comes Griffin for his first ballgame. Unlike Logan, he doesn’t seem to find it boring. He also samples his first crab cake, and like a good Maryland boy, enjoys it.
A pretty little blonde girl flirts with Griffin who flirts right back.
We have a fine time despite watching the O’s lose. They just fell apart after the fifth. But I’ve had time with my oldest and youngest grandbabies, hang out with Jason–who loves baseball–and Kat–who simply doesn’t understand it–on a perfect June day.
Today, I get my workout in, and focus on finishing some gardening. Then it’s deal with my seriously disordered house.
Because tomorrow, solid work time starts again. And that’s fun, too.
That’s what June feels like so far, and that’s the best in my world.
A solid work week for me is a treat, so the weekend really is the carrot at the end of another carrot. Right now, I’m back in Eve and Roarke world, and that’s always fun. So I spent the week catching up with old pals and murdering people.
For Saturday, I have an agenda, and it works! Get my workout in. Check that off. BW and I apparently had a mind meld as on Friday I thought: Wouldn’t it be nice to have bbq ribs over the weekend–and he comes home with a pack of ribs thinking same.
So I wrap those babies in foil on Saturday, stick them in the oven awhile. During the awhile I plug a few plants into the pots where Parker–before we added red pepper flakes to the soil–decided to dig them out.
Check ribs, have time to weed and deadhead the beds. This is kind of a zen activity for me. It’s quiet, relaxing, pleasant.
Ribs out, make up sauce/marinade, cover the ribs with it, and into the fridge.
Back outside to see about using this old trellis on a big–BIG–rose bush. One of BW’s cousins gave us the bush for a wedding present, so it’s 34 years old, taller than me, and blooms like crazy.
Turns out this isn’t a one-person job, so BW gets his sledge, makes holes for the trellis, and we get it up. It’ll do better next year when it’s not so full, and I can more easily thread it through–but those long arching branches are now off the ground.
He’s put this wonderful old gate–tall and really heavy–in our shady hosta area. I love it so much I ordered a smaller Tree Of Life Gate to go in another deep shade area where I can get nothing to thrive.
We haul the new gate–to be used as decor–down the lane to the stubborn spot. I hold, he and his sledge do the work, and there we have it. Nice.
I decide, when I’m done outside and back in the house, I’ll look for some lawn art on line. We can make that space prettier.
Since I’m out, I throw the ball for the dogs. The dogs watch me throw the ball, obviously think: YOU fetch. It makes me realize that in the last year or two of Pancho’s life we stopped throwing balls. He loved chasing and fetching more than anything in the world, so we had to stop when he really couldn’t run.
I’m going to work on this with these guys as the vet tells us Parker’s gained 9 pounds. Dog needs to work out!
Meanwhile, the pavers are coming along. It’s not going to be quick, but it’ll be worth it.
Today, after the workout, a few inside chores–maybe some ball-throwing–I get to pack for our girl overnight/Kat birthday spree. The best kind of interrupted work week!
Then BW will throw those ribs on the grill, and we’ll feast.
For me, that’s a solid, uninterrupted writing week followed by a pretty weekend in the garden. All my stars aligned, and it feels like it’s been awhile since they have. That makes it all the sweeter.
Since it somehow decided to be June, and June’s pretty busy, I’ll take the pretty perfect last week of May for that solid work week.
It’s a pleasure–mine anyway–to work steadily along, then shut down for a workout. Through this week, I work out with the sound of stone saws outside my little gym. Progress there, too! Every day I saw more of our wall going up–so pretty! It’s satisfying to take a walk around, see that progress, see new blooms–after a full day.
Then to start June off in the garden? It doesn’t get better.
In my continuing war against deer, I bought a couple of big garden spinners. Fun, colorful. I was perhaps overly proud to put one together solo. Mechanics isn’t my strength. I did need BW assistance with the second–one with a solar light–mostly because it had more parts and needed three hands to manage it easily.
Whether these will spin and chase off deer is debatable. But I like them anyway. So far spraying repellent’s doing the job (knock on every available piece of wood). And I do plant a lot of deer resistance varieties.
I have a whole flow of astilbes in a shady spot at a distance convenient for deer to sneak up. I saw one nibbled on yesterday, and imagine some deer taking a bite, then going PTUI! Serves her right.
BW spent most of his first day of June on his little Cat cleaning up the area behind his shop. This is an area I mostly avoid in order to keep BW alive. I will say he made some serious inroads.
We found a better spot for our tomatoes and peppers–already have tomatoes on the vine!–and he had the idea of using an old wagon as a stand. Cute.
I weeded, dead-headed, swept, pruned, rearranged and had a very fine time.
Today, post-workout, I’ll see what else I can play with before we have a family dinner. No Jason, Kat, Griffin this time as they’re out of town for a wedding. Griffin had his first plane ride–and seemed to enjoy it.
Right now, I’m looking forward to a summer filled with work, fun, flowers. It’s time to hit the gym so I can get started on that.
I think it’s pretty safe to say this year hasn’t followed the traditional path so far. As you’ve seen over the years, routine – in her work days, workouts, spa trips and vacations – is sacred to Nora.
As the calendar turned to 2019 both of us assumed the posts during the winter would follow the years prior, from Nora’s whole house clear out, to the adventures of being Home Alone while BW was away, then a smooth glide into Spa Girls, Derby, then summer.
But February happened, #copypastecris sat front and center in Nora’s head, and the winter slipped away. Nora wasn’t in the place to share regular happy updates of hearth, home and grandkids. I didn’t think humorous or cranky bits quite suited the mood here. So we — meaning I — let things slide.
Now I’m working at the beach office where I find my balance. Nora’s hit a run of relatively peaceful work days which brings her balance. And so I thought it was time to bring this space back to life with far more regular check ins.
Let’s start with the current book news.
Golden In Death is the 50th book in the series and to celebrate, Entertainment Weekly had the exclusive cover reveal.
Then St. Martins Press created this book trailer which features pulsating music and the cover on a stack of the In Deaths that came before.
Honestly I can’t wait to read it.
Here’s the cover in all it’s glory:
“But, Laura!” I can hear you all say, “What’s it about????
Everyone is mum on that right now, including that crafty JD. All she’ll say is it’s about murder (duh) with a mysterious motive―and a terrifying weapon. Now I really can’t wait to read it.
You’ll find all the US pre-order links here. Nora’s other publishers will have links up well ahead of time. Promise.
That’s all I have up my sleeve at the moment. There will be a few St. Martin’s Press Golden promotions I’ll share as we head into the fall. Plus, there’s something in the works with Little Brown UK. So stay tuned.
Add to that, we have Under Currents in July, Vendetta in Death in September and the run up to The Rise of The Magicks in December. Not to mention the girls + Griffin trip to Greenbrier in July and Nora’s family vacation in Ireland in August. The rest of the year will pick up the pace quite nicely.
Now to take care of the dust bunnies in the media library.
I’ve had the good, the best and the ugly recently.
The ugly I spent knocked out with a really nasty bout of vertigo. As anyone who’s dealt with it knows, vertigo sucks hard.
But that’s done now.
The next, the best, I had a weekend of baking, gardening, family dinner, and Griffin! Our boy is full of fun, which probably comes from being–honestly–the happiest baby I’ve ever seen. Life’s a perpetual picnic for Griffin. He plays peek-a-boo, but likes being the one doing the peek-a-booing by holding a napkin up to his face then dramatically yanking it away.
It’s great having time with all the grands. There’s Kayla who was prepping for races–and took First in the 3200 in Regionals–and Third in States! You go, Legs!
And Logan who’s now the second tallest man around here. He has to bend over to hug me! Next month I get him for five days when we take him to Montana. Really can’t wait to see how he likes his first trip west.
And Colt who can have a conversation about pretty much anything because, as he says, he read it in a book. He’s like Sam from Game of Thrones. The kid’s in third grade and can talk about the universe.
I had a girl day here between weekends, just a lovely day with girl pals. Salad, pizza and champagne. And a special guest appearance by Griffin. The boy’s happy to go to any lady who wants a baby fix. And now he’s got his first tooth, so we have to watch how much he gnaws on pizza.
Girl pals are the best pals. You need to take time to embrace and enjoy them.
This weekend–so far–the rain’s waited to pour until evening, giving me nice weather to weed and fluff and enjoy the garden. Things are popping, and blooming and spreading. I’ve got lots of pots, and a bunch of them waiting until the lower patio and wall project’s finished.
We had the–ugly to me–fence taken down at the end of the parking area, and are replacing it with a stone wall to match our other garden walls. It’s going to be great! But meanwhile, it’s a mess. But we’ve reached the point where I can actually see how good it’ll look when it’s finally done.
Today, after my workout I’ve got some indoor chores to deal with. Then I may do some side dressing with compost in the garden.
Tomorrow it’s back to work, and I’m hoping for a good, solid week of that before June pops out at me.
The summer, as it always seems to be, is packed. So a nice, quiet, solid work week, a good, gardening weekend is just the perfect prelude to the busy summer to come.
Enjoy your holiday weekend doing what makes you happy.
Laura and I send our gratitude to all who served, for all who fell so that we can live free.
Note from Laura: I didn’t share the Girl Time fun, as I opted to work at the beach for three weeks. I mean, I seriously love my girl pals, but I really adore my view at the beach.
The first Saturday in May always manages to sneak up on me. I mostly avoided that this year by taking the Sunday before to figure out all the clothes, shoes, bags for three fun-filled days in Louisville.
This must become habit as I avoided all the last-minute insanity and could just plunk everything in a suitcase Wednesday night.
This year we took good pals JoAnne and Larry with us, got on the plane Thursday morning–hit some weather which is NOT fun–had to circle awhile. Then ah, terra firma, how I missed you.
Our three days of Derby are packed so it’s hit the ground running. But first time for some lunch, a nice time to catch up with the excellent Brian and Sara. We’ll miss Kathy this year, but Sara–hair magician–will look out for us.
It’s cloudy, and rain’s threatening, but hey, we’re in Louisville, and it’s Derby. We’re not going to let that dampen our spirits.
Off to the hotel, unload, unpack. Whew. Let’s definitely have a drink.
Tonight is Club Night in two parts. The first, the Frazier Museum, the second at a speakeasy type club with a Steampunk theme. Let’s get this party started!
It’s always great to start seeing members of our Derby family again. Happy faces, familiar faces, welcoming hugs. The museum’s a big, airy, wonderful space for an event. A terrific place to wander or sit with a glass of champagne, catch up with Derby pals. Plenty of food if you’re hungry, and energy already bubbling like that champagne.
It’s great to see Tonya and Tammy again–these sisters, these clever, busy women organize, spearhead and guide this complex, complicated and simply fabulous event every year. We’re so grateful to be a part of it.
From the museum, it’s off to the club. Time to don our steampunk hats! This is a brick-walled, atmospheric place, and it’s packed. How we managed to find an empty table, I don’t know. There’s a steampunky mask laying on it, I assume someone left behind. I see a mask, I put it on!
More happy faces, more greetings–some impressive costumes–and just an easy good time that’s topped off with a warm cookie and ice cream at the end. Yum.
Time for bed to rest up for our very full Friday.
Jo and I are very good girls and get a little workout done in the morning. A little cardio, a little core, a little yoga. We’ve now earned all our fun and frivolity.
Sara picks us up and ten, and we wish our men good luck at the track. I give BW my pick for the Oaks before we part ways. I’ve yet to hit, in all these years, in the Fillies For The Lilies, but this may be the year. (Spoiler Alert: It’s not.)
We’re off to City Nails for mani-pedis. I love this place, another happy place, so friendly and fun. They’ve done some remodeling–new paint, new chairs, new blingy lights. It looks great. And oh boy, does it feel good to have my feet soaked and rubbed and scrubbed while we watch the races on the flat screen.
Jo asks if they do dipping, and they do. I have no idea what this is–I don’t get into a salon very often. I’m told I should try it for my mani, and okay, I’m game.
The process is freaking fascinating to me. My nails are a complete mess–keyboarding and gardening will do that. But my hands are taken in hand and transformed. Evened up, clipped, smoothed out, then covered with some sort of bonding agent that looks like clear polish. I’m getting a French, and the tips of my fingers are carefully dipped into this white powder, one at a time, then the whole nail’s dipped into a pale pink powder. A couple layers of this, and I’m amazed as I can already see the results.
Nails are buffed and smoothed, and suddenly they’re perfect. The kind of nails a woman might have if she didn’t spend hours hammering at a keyboard, then her weekends digging in dirt and pulling weeds.
I have lady hands!!
We say goodbye to the wonders of City Nails and celebrate our pretty digits at La Vin for lunch.
Louisville, I have to say, has great food, fun restaurants, cheerful service. Since I stopped touring I don’t get out and about in the world much, and Derby reminds me why this area was always one of my favorite stops when I did tour. People are just nice here.
I say the same about shopping at Rodes. Always a fun time with fun people. And I really luck out as the weather’s not looking good for Derby day and Beth has this fabulous (reversible!) topper that will scoff at the rain. As always, they have men’s shoes (size 14!) for me to choose from for BW’s traditional Father’s Day gift. I’ll add his shoes have been a big hit at Derby so far.
At the end, Beth temps me with several gorgeous scarves. I shouldn’t buy more scarves, but . . . I’ll do a purge through what I have. Plus one will go so well with my new topper.
Thanks, ladies, and see you next year.
Sara zips us back to the hotel. It’s gala night, and we need hair!
The guys aren’t back yet, so we extend our just girls time with hair and makeup. As Cathy at City Nails transformed my nails, Sara transforms my hair. A little fun and glamour.
Our men return with reports they did okay at the track–and more they had a great time. The rain’s held off, or mostly. We even saw some peeks of sun now and then. But now it’s time to suit up for Unbridled Eve. Gowns and tuxes and sparkles for the gala, a great time that benefits a great cause in Blessings In A Backpack.
Our pals Isabel and Steven join us for an interlude in our suite before we all head down. It’s so good to see them! More Happy Derby time. And we all look pretty terrific.
Brian’s waiting to escort us down to the Red Carpet, the big ballroom, the silent auction (I’ve already picked my goals there!)
Everyone looks gorgeous in a gorgeous space. The flowers, the lights, the sparkles! At the end of the Red Carpet, my pals have a glass of champagne waiting for me. That’s why they’re my pals! I have to do a walk-through the silent auction area, and note there are a couple other things that might deserve a few bids from me. Good cause, after all.
Sara and her Mike join us at our table, as do the fabulous Mike Mills (R.E.M.) and his fiancee Jasmine. We’re a very happy group, and I’m pretty excited that Mike’s going to perform later. In all the years we’ve come, I’ve never heard him perform. An extra treat for this R.E.M. fan.
Tonya and Tammy–those amazing York sisters–put on a hell of an event. The entertainment is awesome. I love hearing John Elefante singing some of my Kansas favorites just as I love reconnecting with him and his lovely wife Michelle.
Meanwhile, I’m bidding on my phone–eyes on the prize.
Then Mike takes the stage, straps on a guitar, and wow. Just wow. I love he does Don’t Go Back To Rockville–that’s where my pal JoAnne grew up, and I grew up basically next-door in Silver Spring. It’s amazing to hear him do I Am Superman, a song I’ve sung along to countless times.
It makes me think just how blessed I am to be here.
I even win three of my bids. Woo!
Before we leave we boogie to Skip Martin from Kool And The Gang. Yeah, Celebrate!
Tumble into bed. Sleep like a rock.
Another workout for the good girls in the morning before we start duding up for the Big Day. It’s going to rain, we’ll just have to deal with that. Plus, I have my new topper and scarf!
We look damn good.
Brian’s waiting, and it’s off to the track. We like to get there early because BET! HORSES! THE DOWNS!
It’s a little drizzly, but not bad, and nothing, really nothing, can spoil my first look at that gorgeous track, that rich brown oval, the white spires, the green, green grass of the infield.
Champagne on ice, hugs to our servers Amy and Kim–and let’s get those bets in. I bet on the third race. It will be the first of only two times through the days I don’t cash a ticket.
I am hot! I have a streak going as more people come in, as we meet and greet and exchange tactics, take pictures, eat, drink, bet.
So many pretty outfits, so many pretty hats!
Yes, it rains off and on, but it’s Derby Day and the energy is high and happy.
I stick with my strategy (don’t mess with a streak) of just betting across the board. No fancy stuff. I always bet the gray if one’s in the field, otherwise I go by names that strike me. Or an Irish horse if one’s running. For whatever reason, it’s working for me. My pal Jo is a complicated better. Trifectas, exactas, supers, boxes. I have a hard time figuring out how to do any of that anyway.
More champagne, and now there are cookies! And lots of what’s your pick, who did you bet? Some table hopping. We have Mike and Jasmine and Skip at our–it makes for a lot of happy.
It’s building to that time, and the rain doesn’t want to quit. It’s not the deluge we had last year, so that’s something. I’ve picked horses for my kids–and some of the grandkids sent me names they liked. To avoid the mad rush of the Derby race, I’ve placed those bets through the day, tucked the tickets away in my purse.
You can feel the pulse of the room quicken as post time approaches. Everyone crowds out on the terrace when they play My Old Kentucky home. It’s a moment, always a moment, as is the roar of thousands at the end.
The favorite was scratched Wednesday night, so the field’s pretty wide open. Another horse scratched Friday, I think it was. Watching the horses and riders circle the field is magic. The excitement builds, builds, builds as they’re loaded into the gate.
And in a fingersnap, they’re off.
Stunning, always stunning. A sensory overload of sight and sound. The ocean roar of the crowd, the thunder of hooves, the slop of the track flying, and those colorful silks in the gloomy light. I can never keep track of the horses I bet on, not in that blur of strength and beauty. I honestly never care by that point.
Seven crosses first as the crowd cheers and cheers. I realize I have some money on seven, so that’s nice.
But there’s been a foul called–two riders called foul on seven. Hold your tickets. It had to be an endless, stressful wait for the jockeys, the trainers, the owners. Eventually seven was disqualified for swerving out of his lane, nearly causing a pile up. Not intentional, it just happened.
Country House–a 65-1 long shot (and one I nearly tossed a little bet at) wins the Derby. That bumps Tacitus–number 8–into third. I had some money on him, and picked him for Jason. So we both won a bit. Next time I think: Well, I live in a country house, I should put ten across the board there, I damn well will!
We say goodbye to some of our Derby pals until next year. We always stay for the last races–bet, yes, but also traffic.
I hit on the 13th race, and nicely, thank you.
On the last race there are three grays. Well, it’s the last race, bet them all. Jo and BW decide to follow me on that one. And Jo does another bet adding #5 for I think it’s a super.
We go out to watch while the place empties out. Watch the horses–and those three pretty grays head to the gate. Hear that clang for the last time today, watch them run. And holy crap, look at those grays!
This is unexpected! All three run like the wind, and all three come in. Win, Place, Show. I end the day with a surprising and substantial win. And Jo? She hit the super as #5 came in fourth. A crescendo to our operatic day at the track.
Amazing and wonderful, start to finish.
Back to the hotel for some food, some unwinding. Bed.
Up to pack–always more going home than coming in. The sun, at last is fighting through the clouds. Mom checks–two or three times–on the suite.
Sara and Brian wait to haul us all back to the airport.
And it’s goodbye to Louisville after a whirlwind three days that put so many good memories in the bank. I hope all my Derby pals have a fantastic year.
This is a translated story from the Brazilian newspaper O Estado de S. Paulo não. ~Laura
Justice prohibits sale of Brazilian books accused of plagiarizing Nora Roberts
American bestselling author Nora Roberts won the first battle against Brazil’s Cristiane Ribeiro Allevato Serruya in a plagiarism case last week in Rio de Janeiro.
In her decision, Maria Cristina de Brito Lima, of the 6th Business Court of Rio de Janeiro, ordered the suspension of the sale of the physical books, e-books and audiobooks of Royal Love, Royal Affair, Unbroken Love, Hot Winter, Forevermore and From the Baroness’s Diary, and the inclusion on the cover and links made available on Amazon, Saraiva, Cultura, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and E-Bay websites of the words “suspended by court order”.
The judge also determined the blocking of royalties from the sale of these books in the bookstores mentioned. The amounts must be deposited in a judicial account. Failure to comply with Cristiane’s judicial decision of bookstores or publishers may result in a fine of R $ 5,000 per copy of work unduly sold.
“This represents a new level of judicial demand in the literary field,” says Gustavo Martins de Almeida, Nora Roberts’ lawyer. Mainly because it involves immaterial media – e-books and audiobooks – and because Nora Roberts, a foreigner without assets in Brazil, is giving as guarantee the copyright of his books published by three publishers. “It’s interesting to see the judiciary adjusting to new technologies,” says the lawyer.
Cristiane Ribeiro Allevato Serruya has 15 days to appeal the decision.
The newspaper O Estado de S. Paulonão got in touch with the Brazilian until the closing of the story.
My life right now seems to be a series of them without much of that steady middle ground.
I really like steady middle ground.
Updated total: 41 authors and 93 of their books infringed by Serruya. She’s a blood leech sucking on the body of the writing profession.
Arranging for a truckload of salt to dispense with her has been taking up a lot of my time, energies, sanity. Hopefully, once that’s in place the frustrating and infuriating distraction of her will fade, at least a bit.
Meanwhile I had a very happy week at our annual Drunken Girls Spa–with Special Guest Star Griffin. Nora had a week with girl pals, massages, games, champagne, and food she didn’t cook. Nana had a week of baby laughs and snuggles–though she did share those with girl pals.
And Laura’s not allowed to whine about the games as she dominated in the new addition of Cards Against Humanity.
Note from Laura: this is because I’m the Queen of Empathy and Persipacity. Not the queen of building stupid words.
Though Kat ultimately thwarted Elaine in Scrabble, she couldn’t –nor could any–topple Elaine who we crowned Queen of the DGS on our last night.
Our previous Queen JoAnne had a hard fall and shared the loser earrings with Pat.
A great week for all, with beautiful days, rainy days, stormy nights–including one that blew open the (unlatched) balcony doors. Flying curtains, toppling lamps, rain blowing in, women scrambling, Auntie Em summoning.
Shortly before I left for the week my tooth implant felt weird, and my bite shifted. Now I’m chewing the hell out of my cheek. But it’s an implant, I think, what’s the deal? No time to find out as I’m leaving.
Call the dentist the morning of my first day back. The day, I’ll add, I’m supposed to haul BW to the nursery in his truck, get all my pretty plants and start digging in the dirt. And have my NEW CAR delivered.
A happy day after a happy week.
Things didn’t go as planned.
Dentist says come right in, so I get dressed and do that. Figures he can fix, takes a look. Needs an X-Ray. Uh-oh.
Don’t you hate that?
Bad news, maybe worst case scenario news. It looks like the bone graft failed, implant shifted (I wasn’t wrong there, but being right never felt so bad). I need to go to implant guy. The Hammer Of Doom: It will be like starting over.
I like to think I’m pretty tough, but I just looked up and said: Oh, Jesus.
My dentist calls implant dentist himself. Again, I’m told to come right in. These are very good guys, really good doctors. But now I have to text BW, can’t be back by noon, off to second dentist.
Arrive, am seated immediately. Implant guy is so kind, apologizing for the failure, looks at X-Ray. He doesn’t think it’s a graft failure, but a fracture of same. Somehow–and this baffles him–I’ve managed to crack the bone.
He had to numb me up, always a good time!, take off the crown, take out the implant. Yes, indeed, I cracked it.
While he’s cleaning it out (even more fun than needles plunged into the soft tissue of your mouth!) I think: Fucking Serruya. I’ve caught myself stress clenching over the past weeks. Make myself stop, but still.
I blame her for my current situation. It actually helps, a little.
So he does what he does, sews me back up. DA gives me pain med, I get Rxs and make next appointment. The process takes several months of appointments. Oh well.
Off to CVS to fill Rxs. Drop off, go outside to call BW. Notice I failed to charge phone after spa and it’s down to like 16%. BW doesn’t answer. Not the house phone, not his cell–though I try both twice.
I am not feeling tough.
He finally calls me back. I cut off his explanation as phone will die. Just meet me at the nursery at 1:30. I’m getting my plants, damn it!
Get Rxs, drive to nursery.
Ahhhh. A happy, happy hour. A true up in a down day. The scents, the colors, the textures. Mine, all mine! The hell with everything else, this is my little paradise. I fill four huge carts. We fill the bed of the truck.
Sadly, I don’t have it in me to dig in the dirt. Just don’t have that next gear. But I can lay all those flats and pots out on my garden walls.
And take more meds.
Car guy’s running late, which is just as well. We put the delivery off until the next day.
My plan for Friday: Work in the morning, plant in the afternoon. I knew it was supposed to rain, but still.
Pours. So work the day.
However, many, many Serruya interruptions. No wonder I cracked a bone graft. Still, a decent chunk of work, and it’s good to be back into the story.
And here comes my fabulous new G-Wagon. I’m so glad to have this model again (and loaded this time!!) They reconfigured the interior so it’s comfortable for my Tall Guy. The old model just didn’t have the leg room.
It looks like a big, deep, dark green tank. But an elegant one. I am a General behind the wheel of this baby. And it’ll do what I tell it. I just have to say: Put on left seat warmer, and it will warm my butt. I don’t have to push a button for that now. I can tell it who to call, what temperature I want, what music I want.
It takes Barry The Car Guy an hour to go over all its beautiful tricks with me. So many wonderful tricks! I am in love with my new car. A very happy up.
Of course by the time all that’s done, my swollen jaw is throbbing. A sad down. Hit those meds, get the ice bag.
We’re celebrating Easter and Logan’s 15th (!!) birthday today. He requested pulled pork. So after ice bag, I make the rub, rub the pork.
Definitely time to lie down.
Today, I put the pork on, boil a couple dozen eggs for kids to Cool Whip dye, make the sides, make the bbq sauce and pull that pork. BW will pick up Logan’s fave chocolate chip cookie cake.
I hope to dig just a bit. Even one bed, one pot would be enough until tomorrow.
Because a big up will be having four grandkids–including Griffin for his first–here for Easter.
I’ve got an achy swollen jaw, more frustrations and interruptions ahead with our serial plagiarist, but….
I have a beautiful family I’ll enjoy the hell out of today. I have plants waiting for me to find just the right spot for them to fill.
This is a very long slog on many fronts. There are days since all this started it feels as if we’re battling Hydra. Slash at one head, more pop up.
But we’re slashing away, and we’re moving forward.
Writers wouldn’t be able to move forward on any of this without readers.
A reader first discovered the copied passages in Serruya’s book and notified Courtney Milan of the infringement. We wouldn’t know the stunning extent of this one woman’s thievery without that first reader. And all the other readers who’ve since dug in, looked for other copying. Generated lists, kept track, gave support, shared outrage.
You can’t fight if you don’t know. And it’s damn hard to keep fighting without support.
It was a reader who first discovered copied passages in Janet Dailey’s Notorious and notified me. I might never have known my work had been stolen.
It’s almost always a reader.
Readers have beat the drum against the scammers on the Kindle platform, helping to alert writers. Now both readers and writers–traditionally published, indie, hybrid–who are honest and hard-working are digging deep into this morass to uncover the muck.
For writers this slog is a matter of protecting their work, their livelihoods, and the honorable profession of storytelling. For readers? It’s a labor of love, and it’s about the books they love. It’s about a moral center.
There are writers much more tech savvy than I am (that’s not a hard one!) who are spending precious time helping to expose these cheats and liars and con artists who think of books only as assets, only as a way to make money. They scam their way to every dollar.
There’s no way any of this could be done without the readers who took the time, made the effort–continue to take the time, make the effort–to help. The readers who made noise because this is just wrong. Because they care about books and the people who work to write them.
I’m so grateful to the readers who sounded the alarm, to the writers who are diving deep, to all helping to expose this ugly, ugly underbelly that contaminates what we–writers and readers–love and respect.
Readers and writers are connected–strongly, even personally–through the art of storytelling. Those who corrupt that art won’t win.
When we win this, every writer who takes pen to paper, sits at a keyboard facing a blank screen, struggles to create worlds with words will have readers to thank for the victory.
I’m so grateful. I know there are scores like me who are grateful.