Maybe a quick post. Maybe not.
MTM's collarbone surgery is at 2:30pm today. It's scheduled to take 2 1/2 hours. We both appreciate thoughts and prayers (especially since MTM won't be able to eat all day. People are prone to become grouchy when they can't eat...........though bad nurses are always grouchy.)
Feeling overwhelmed makes me grouchy.
And I should be thankful.
Only I won't be.
Because writing demands isolation. Solitude. Aloneness. To hear the voices.
For the next week, I will be immersed. On Edisto . Comparing earth to water to say. Walking. But not responding to comments. Or reading blogs.
I don't know how to elaborate. Because anything I type comes off as bitchy. And I am not a bitch.
"This is JUST LIKE the Blair Witch Project!"
It happens. When a boy is three.
Or making words. It's the same thing these days.
Our No Family Holidays With Family policy is breaking new ground this Thanksgiving. I need to take a trip for book research. To smell the scents. And haunt the haunted places. And tease out sounds from almost 200 years ago. Or millennia ago.
I'll take what I can get.