If you don’t hold your breath.
Good morning from dreary Vermont. Just south of us, say Boston for example, it is sunny and warm. What makes Lamoille County to sun averse? But let’s turn away from weather and talk computer viruses. I haven’t been able to blog since my Mac got one, actually two. Tim patiently coaxed them out and deleted them, and now I’m free to write again. I’m sorry for the delay.
No news on the book front. I’m burying my head in the ocean sand and ignoring the whole situation until I’m forced to come up for air and a reality check. It’s April after all, and Quill Point is due for release in July. Breath holding. It’s not the best thing to do for your health. At the same time, I’ve had years of practice.
Today I’m going to tune up the Taylor, learn a few songs, and dig around in my box of Dad’s music. Actually, I’m going to transfer his music from its cardboard box to a storage tub, so the contents will stay dry if we get spring rain creeping into the garage. When I visited my Mom last week, my sister and I started singing–she took the alto. Even though our voices have changed, we still harmonize so well. My sisters and I, we’ve been singing together for fifty years. It’s as natural as breathing to us, well, if you don’t hold your breath.
Don’t you all think it’s time for flowers? Check back next week for another segment of Finding Home.