Blogging Along

Cripes, I haven't posted to this blog in a long time. I've been on Twitter (Judyinboston) and my other two blogs. Life's bits and pieces: cleaning, cooking, gardening, and oh yes, writing. Washing, ironing, shopping, stuff. I gave a speech at my Toastmaster's Club about my adventures on a big corporate re-engineering committee in the mid-90's. Ah, the memories. I was associated with the "old legacy system." Might as well have been the dung heap.

Announcement: could be the economy is looking up. We trekked to the Wrentham (Discount) Mall on Sunday for chocolate and moisturizer, and there was a huge crowd. Big line to get into the mall. Parking lot crammed. Lots of people with shopping bags. The stores looked busy, as opposed to Nordstrom's a week earlier and the mattress store on Saturday. Big sale and the store was empty.

So we did our bit, spending the tax refund and the dribs and drabs of money which have come ouf way. I bought a used Apple. A backup drive for said Apple. A keyboard and a mouse. Remember a song from college:

My father makes book on the corner
My mother sells second hand gin
My sister makes love for a dollar
My god, how the money rolls in.

In this case, it rolled out. So . . . .

I'm appearing at the hair dresser's this week for the first time in six months. Long, two-toned hair. The occasion is Edgar's Week next week in NYC. I even have something to wear because I didn't go last year and can therefore wear what I would have worn last year, had I went. Yanno.

Cringing at the idea of the agents and editors cocktail party. How many years? May flog Significant Other's memoir. How would that be? On the other hand, I haven't pushed Festival Madness at this event. F.M. hasn't set the world on fire. In fact, no one has asked for the full ms. And I was so sure. Idea for rewrite, but it will be a lot of work. New beginning. We all need new beginnings. Apropos sucking it up and all that humiliating stuff, there was an interesting post on "when do you know when to quit?" today. I guess you don't. Because around the corner may lurk the agent or editor who believes in you. http://www.murderati.com/blog/2009/4/19/how-do-you-know-when-to-quit.html

Today is Patriot's Day in Boston and a holiday. They ran the Marathon today. We used to live in Wellesley and walk down to the center of town to cheer the runner's on. Wellesley College woman always scream their lungs out. The Red Sox won big time.

I have to confess a total addiction to In Treatment. What a great show. HBO rocks. Worth every dime. And The Number 1 Ladies Detective Agency is growing on me every week. It's so nice so see a show about Africa with people going about normal everyday lives, eating out, with schools and homes and occupations. This is a new glimpse into the Dark Continent with no war, rebellion, refugee camps, 13 year old soldiers--well, you know. No Somali pirates.

My robot fish story with the Somali pirates is soooo topical. Now, will it be published?

The kitchen counter is full of seedlings. They are so cute! We have daffodils and forsythia blooming, finally. (not in the kitchen!) Itsy-bitsy leaves on bushes. Very heartening. Something blooming in the slough. Haven't seen the ducks lately.

I'm reading a hilarious book by David Lodge, Therapy. Kind of oppostite In Treatment.

So it goes. A friend sent some fab tango music and we've been listening to that. Rented Frieda from Netflix and liked it.

That's all.

Grapeshot