Sorry for the prolonged absence--I know there's been some nail-biting and wringing of hands as all of my reader(s) have wondered...where is she? Has she run out of things to say? (Not possible.) Has she had a mental breakdown? (Possible, but unconfirmed.) Has she had a case of writers' block, which, while not particularly bothersome to others, is frustrating to her because she finds writing to be therapeutic, especially at such a busy time of year and with a lot of things on her mind? (Um. What? Ooo! Cookie!)
The truth is I've been very busy with some foreign investors. I can't divulge a lot of details because it's all very confidential, but a member of a certain royal family has contacted me and we're about to embark on a financial journey together that will change my life!
Wish me luck!
In truth (because I know you were all asking/worrying/wishin'/hopin'/waitin') writing always seems like one extra task to me, on an already crippling pile of tasks, both mental and physical. In terribly busy and/or stressful times, I always table any writing because it seems like just one more thing on my to-do list, an item that doesn't have to get done, because no-one's demanding it of me; there's no deadline hanging over my nearly exploding head. When, in reality, it's one of the few things that keeps me sane. Instead of being at the end of my to-do list, right after 'clip dog's toenails' and 'hobble small tunneling woodland animals' it should be at the top, just after 'breathe' and 'drink gallon of coffee.'
So amidst the chaos of little league games and school winding down, making summer plans, organizing parties and group gifts and going to weddings (yippee! by the way) I will write. I'll be writing seen and unseen, blog and private-like, but I will be writing.
Because I know you've all lost sleep about this, and I can't pile guilt on top of everything I have to do. Those moles aren't going to hobble themselves.