When I was pregnant with my second child I wanted to get a stroller that was one of those side by side deals. My sister told me it was a bad idea because some of them were too wide for certain doors and spaces. I listened to what she told me and bought the back and front type. I had wanted to buy the one that had the front seat for the baby with the standing area for the toddler. My sister told me it was a bad idea because what if the toddler was too tired to stand and wanted to sit, what do you do then? So I listened and bought the “regular” back and front type. This was over twenty years ago and to this day when I see either of the other carriages, I wish I had bought it instead of my “regular” back and front one that was always to heavy, too bulky, and the two kids fought over who got the front!
She stood on the sidewalk, valise on her left, Perry, her cocker spaniel on her right. The rain had just begun to come down at a steady rate, just fast enough to soak her and Perry before they were able to make it to the doorway of their building. The valise would be soaked through, ruining the day’s work but planning had not always been her strong suit. She should have used the plastic sleeves to encase the work, but had not. Instead, here she stands, next to a stranger, dry under his own umbrella, while she waits for the signal that it is safe to walk.
As I walk along, I hear the crack of the dry branches under foot. With the soft light of dawn, I see a mist that licks just the tips of each blade of grass along the inner curve of the path. This single miracle brings the feeling of imminent peace on an otherwise rocky walkway. No, I do not mince my words when I talk of my journey, walking with the rhythm of the breeze, till I find my love again.
Back when my kids were little and I worked nights, I spent at least one day a week making pies. I made pies for a small coffee shop. They would buy my pies, which people raved about.
When I first started making the pies I realized I needed my own crust. I didn’t realize that crusts are unique and that people who love pie know the difference between a Pilsbury pie crust and homemade. So I went about making my crusts. I tried just about every kind out there. Some with water and oil, some with shortening, some just butter, some with vanilla extract…you name it and I tried it. Why did I try so many? To be honest, because I wanted to find one that tasted really good but was really easy to make.
Anyhow, I made pies every week for quite a few months. One day one of my pies didn’t set up. I can’t remember if it was chocolate cream pie or something like that. The owner of the shop was furious! Well, I can’t tell if it doesn’t set until it is cut into! It looked good. At the time I was selling pies for about $5 each, which was a big rip off! Anyhow, the owner complained to his wife who then told me that he was mad. I think I made pies once more for them and then stopped. It wasn’t worth all my time and effort.
My favorite of all to eat and to make is a blueberry pie with a buttery topping that melts in your mouth!
In my dream there is an email in my inbox. The email is from one of the literary agents I have sent a query letter to. I look at the email with some suspicion. Am I prepared for another rejection? If I get my hopes up and it is another rejection it is that much farther I fall. If I maintain a negative attitude and wait until tomorrow to open this email am I holding off my success?
Oh, it is killing me to sit with my finger hovering over the enter key, knowing my cursor is already on the email to open it. Slowly, I press the enter key. The email loads. It starts out the same, “thank you for your interest in our agency”, but instead of “we are sorry” the emails says “we would like to talk to you further about representing you and your picture book!” OMG! Am I really reading this! It is official! My first offer for representation.
Then suddenly my eyes flutter open. Just a dream. I think I need to go back to sleep.