What I'm Doing Instead of Writing My Novel

I've had a great big dose of self-realization lately about how undisciplined I have become. Remember that I took the NaNiWriMo challenge, to write 50,000 words of my novel during the month of November? Well, it's not going so well. Here's what I've been up to instead of writing.

Jigsaw Puzzle: Scott and I bought a great puzzle at the gift shop at Mammoth Cave during our October RV adventure. It shows a collage of post cards from many of the country's national parks. Here is the poster that came with the puzzle.

Even though it was a 1000 pieces, we thought, "This shouldn't be too bad; look at all the words and small images. They will be easy." So we started off on a quiet Sunday morning. Scott put the pieces on the spare poker table, which made a really good puzzle venue. You could lean on the padded railing and contemplate without having stray pieces stick to your arm and fall on the floor and get chewed up by the dog. We quickly put the border together, congratulating each other on our prowess.

Then came the word pieces, like "Hot Springs," some of which really were easy to find. 

Lucy sat nearby, fascinated by all the activity.
 

  
Seven hours later it looked like this. Not as much progress as we had hoped for almost a whole day. 

  
Little did we know that we had done the easiest part. The middle of the puzzle was a killer, which we worked on for at least three more days over the next two weeks. Those big letters that said, "America's National Parks?" Those were the worst and had to be assembled using puzzle shape alone, which is not my forte. I'm better at color. Scottie saved the day and got them done. Ta dah!

Another RV Adventure: Around the second week of November, we discovered the moon would be full and the temperature cool after a cold front had blown in, so, like all normal people, we headed for the beach. Seriously, Scott and I love to go to the beach in the fall and decided, since we still had Maureen's RV, to drive down to Mustang Island for a couple of days. There were a few people at the campground, but the beach was almost deserted. As promised, the moon was full. Here it is, just beginning to rise in the east ...

 ... while behind me, the sun is setting in the west. 

 I spotted these tracks and found the little guy not far away.

  
He did not cooperate by staying still for his photo. After many attempts, this is the least blurred one I got.

  
We spent most of the next day walking on the beach and reading. I went in the water for a little while, but it was too cold for Scott. The dogs would have nothing to do with it either.

We kept them tethered at the campsite, but they still had a good time. Lucy may be sitting on a pillow outside, but she's still on guard duty!

Grandparent's Day: Last week my girl's school sponsored Grandparent's Day and a Thanksgiving lunch. Her grandparents were not able to come until lunch time, so she asked me to come spend the morning at her school and attend the music program as well as the lunch. I jumped at the chance and had a wonderful day.

Did I wish I were home, writing that novel? Not for a minute. It will get done someday, when there aren't any more days like this one. I've learned to grab those moments of joy and hold on as long as I can, for they are few and fleeting. 

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you, and thanks for stopping by.

Songs of the South

Fellow intrepid travelers, I have just returned from a twelve-day RV adventure through the deep south. Thanks to Maureen, Scott, Ruffles, Lucy and I were able to borrow Pal, her RV, and head off to find fall color and cooler weather. 

Our first stop was not a camping night, but a visit with my friend Leah in Baton Rouge. Another friend, Linda, joined us for dinner and we had a delightful time. During our conversation, Linda and I again talked about how we share the characteristic of having a soundtrack constantly running through our minds. I roll through life accompanied by the music that has brought me there and it was certainly true during this trip.

As we left Baton Rouge the next morning, my brain tuned in "Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight."

Just an ordinary story 'bout the way things go,

Round and around nobody knows,

But the highway goes on forever.

As we turned north on I-55 and headed through Mississippi, every road sign pointed to Jackson and so did I.

We got married in a fever

Hotter than a pepper sprout.

We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson

Ever since the fire went out.

Just outside of Jackson, we picked up the Natchez Trace Parkway. This is a beautiful, historic road that winds over 444 miles through Tennessee, Alabama and Mississippi, from the Mississippi River at Nachez to Nashville. The parkway is part of the National Park system, so it is beautifully maintained, with numerous pull-outs, parks, historical markers and rest stations along the way. It a perfect ride for an RV because the speed limit is lower (50mph) and no commercial vehicles are allowed. There is no development on the parkway either, which means you don't have gas stations, restaurants or anything else for that matter. You have to exit for the individual towns along the way if you have needs. 

I was surprised to see cotton fields along the Parkway, especially with cotton still unharvested. I thought it was picked earlier than October. You know what song is coming, except I couldn't help but sing it the way we did when we were little.

Oh when those cotton bolls get rotten

You got a lot of rotten cotton

In those old cotton fields back home. 

 

  

We camped at Tombigbee State Park in Tupelo, Mississippi one night and, being in Tupelo, Elvis was "always on my mind." The predominant song wasn't one of his though, it was the Alannah Myles tribute, "Black Velvet" that I sang all night, thinking of that sweet boy. 

Black velvet and that little boy smile.

Black velvet and that slow southern style.

A new religion that will bring you to your knees.

Black velvet if you please.

The Natchez Trace Parkway ends in Nashville, where it merges into Tennessee highway 100. Right there, where it merges, sits the Loveless Cafe. It used to be a cafe and Motor Court, but now it's just a cafe, and what a cafe. Those of you who watch Food Network have no doubt seen the Loveless on there several times. Diners, Drive-in and Dives filmed an episode and Bobby Flay challenged their "Biscuit Lady" to a Throw Down. 

The food is simple, down-home food cooked perfectly. We ate there twice, on the way up and again on the way back down. Both times I thought of the singer Patty Loveless. I don't have a clue about whether she is related to the Cafe owners, but I love her voice. 

If my heart had windows

You'd see a heart full of love just for you. 

The next leg of the trip took us up into Kentucky, where we really began to see some fall color. We visited Mammoth Cave and did the Historical Cave Tour and then headed east to the mountains and Cumberland Falls State Park. What a beautiful park. Kentucky has it designated a Resort Park for good reason. There are cabins, a main lodge (built by the DuPonts,) swimming pools, riding trails for horses and hiking trails for humans. I bet is wonderful spot for a family summer vacation. But in the fall it is quieter and the color is spectacular. Take a look.

The whole time we were in Kentucky I was either singing "Coal Miner's Daughter"

Well I was born a coal miner's daughter.

In a cabin on a hill called Butcher Holler.

or "Kentucky Rain."

Kentucky rain keeps pouring down

And up ahead's another town that I'll go walking through

With the rain in my shoes

Searching for you

In the cold Kentucky ra a a a a a ain

In the cold Kentucky rain.

It also rained several times while we were there, something my soul needed, but it didn't help get that rain song out of my head. 

Our last day in Kentucky was spent on the Bluegrass Parkway, which takes you through the "horse country" near Lexington and along the Historic Distillery Trail. We stopped at the Four Roses Distillery and bought some bourbon for the poker guys, but Jim Beam was just down the road. Every time I saw the sign I thought of Hank Williams, Jr. This was before I knew about his recent, stupid remarks about the President. But, even if I had known, I probably would still have sung - 

Lordy I have loved some ladies

And I have loved Jim Beam

And they both tried to kill me in 1973.

When my doctor asked me

"Son, how'd you get in this condition?"

I said, "Hey sawbones, I'm just carrying on 

An old family tradition.

 By this time we are getting tired of being on the road and are ready to be home in our own bed. The problem was that we were still a long way from there. We spent the last few days driving on interstates, later into the night that we had been to make up some time. Here my mind scanned through all the trucker songs I knew, particularly Eddie Rabbit's "Driving My Life Away" and Kathy Mattea's "Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses." Here are some shots from the road.

Sunset, near Oxford, MS

Some of that Kentucky rain

Fall color on the interstate

Along the Bluegrass Parkway

Our last tourist stop was in Vicksburg, MS where we visited the Civil War Battleground and National Cemetery. I wasn't singing "Dixie," "Yankee Doodle" or anything else here. I guess the death and tragedy took up all the bandwidth and there was no room for song.

It was a good trip and we had a wonderful time. Sometime later I'll discuss the pros and cons of RV travel, but for now I'm just happy to be home. Thanks for stopping by.

Happy Birthday, Maureen

Today is Maureen's birthday. If you know me or have read this blog, you know that Maureen is my best friend. We have known each other since we were 24. We are older than that now and she will be older than me until October 5. I am not going to tell you everything about Maureen and why we are friends, but I will give you a random list of things that are true.

1.  We know all the same songs. This was one of the first things that bound us together. In fact, we made a challenge game of it. Someone would give us a word or subject and we would sing the first song that came into our head. It was always the same song.

2.  We each think the other is hilarious. She gets all my jokes and I get hers.

3.  Maureen has been with me through almost every major tragedy in my life and somewhere, in the midst of sorrow, exhaustion and agony, she makes me laugh. It may be the laughter heard from insane residents of a mental institutition, but it is laughter nonetheless.

4.  Maureen has a great spirit of adventure and is an intrepid traveler. She just returned from three weeks in Cambodia, where for the first two weeks she participated workshops for college students studying science using a curriculum she had helped to write. Then she set out on her own to visit Angor Wat and the other ancient temples of Cambodia. For our 50th birthday we went to Iceland, saw volcanos and geyers and walked on glaciers. Did I say we went in December? Cold and dark but a great adventure. This photo shows Maureen swimming in the Blue Lagoon, one of Iceland's most incredible natural wonders.

5.  I can't imagine my life without her; she has become my sister. Thank you, Donna, the mutual friend who introduced us because, "y'all are so much alike I know you'll be friends." She was right. 

Stonehenge, 1992

 Happy birthday, Maureen.

Travels With My Foot, Part 2

Well now I know that you readers are as twisted as I am. I got so many requests for more photos of my foot's travels that I will concede to post a few more. But this is it (famous last words.)

My foot at the Bacardi Distillery in Puerto Rico.

On the beach at Destin, FL. My foot is partial to beaches.

Both feet in the El Yonque Rainforest in Puerto Rico. It is raining.

Scott's hand, giving my foot a rum punch in Aruba.

My foot and friends in Norfolk, VA.

My foot, riding a teeny, tiny Vespa.

My foot, gazing at the Mississippi River bridge from New Orleans to Algiers, LA.

My foot, relaxing in a hammock on Little Cayman.

OK, this is not my foot, but isn't this guy cool? He is indigenous to Little Cayman and has great feet, by the way.

My hand, on a glacier in Iceland. (I may be nuts, but I'm not crazy enough to put my foot there.)

Travels With My Foot

OK, I know what you're thinking -- "I am about to be treated to a description of Annette's podiatry problems," but you're wrong. This really is about travels with my foot. Let me explain.

About six years ago Scott and I were in Cozumel with our friends Bob and Leah. On this day Leah and I were shopping, drinking margaritas and generally having a great time taking a little break from the beach and sun. We came upon a henna tatoo artist and decided to get little bitty tatoos. I have always wanted a tatoo of a Celtic knot on my ankle and the only thing that has kept me from doing it is thinking about getting old, wrinkled and saggy with that tatoo on my foot. Leah, however, is a nurse and gets very adamant about needles and sanitation, so I don't mention the word around her. But, since this is henna, no needles and only lasts a few weeks, we decide to go for it and each of us gets a little Celtic symbol on her ankle. 

Then the fun begins. Emboldened by the tatoo, my "foot" takes on a separate personality and starts demonstrating outrageous behavior that no self-respecting, un-tatooed foot would ever think of doing. My foot was caught in several compromising circumstances and photographed more than I like. Unfortunately, the photos were in predigital days and the prints are buried somewhere that I haven't been able to find for a while, else I would show you the censored version. 

But that first experience has led to a running gag where my foot gets photographed having fun wherever we go. Take a look. (Side note: My foot is partial to red toes.)

My foot and Barb's foot gambling in Biloxi.

My foot, enjoying Barq's Root Beer in the New Orleans French Market.

My foot, sailing on a catamaran in Aruba.

My foot, breaking into the mini-bar in Vegas.

My foot has lots of fun everywhere we go. I am compiling photos and will put them together one day after I finish my novel. It will be a travel log entitled, "Travels With My Foot." Bestseller, don't you think?