Yes, you read that right. My mom called the cops on me, and I didn’t even do anything wrong. Loyal readers, you know I can’t go too long without something strange happening in my life. This is the latest.
It all started on a wet and wild day…
It was around 4:00 in the afternoon and I decided to take the kids and our puppy out for a walk. I needed the exercise, as did the dog, so I decided we’d all head out in rain gear, with umbrellas clutched firmly in hand. Having discovered a lovely stream a couple weeks ago that was about a 20-minute walk away, we headed for that. It was slow going in rainboots, but we still made good time, enough for the kids to muck about and make leaf boats when we arrived at the stream.
We couldn’t stay long, though. It was daylight saving’s now, losing us an hour’s daylight, and overcast from the rain, to boot, so I decided we’d better head home – it was starting to get dark. So we tromped and trudged along on the journey back, not thinking about much of anything but getting home. We weren’t too far from the house when my mom scared us by calling out my name. When I finally figured out that it was her and not the fairies I’d been discussing with my four-year-old, I answered back that we were coming.
She met us at the garage and told us she’d been worried because it was dark (it looks much more so on the inside looking out). I assured her that we’d been able to see the whole way home and then asked her what time it was (not too long after 5:00). We’d only been gone a little over an hour. I thought she was overreacting a bit, but, oh well. Little did I know.
So we get inside the house and the kids are stripping down and toweling off, when my oldest son says, “What’s that big truck in the driveway?” Well, it turned out to be a fire truck, lights a-flashing, along with several other trucks. I gaped. Two of my sons are in their underwear, I’m wet and trying to dry off a sopping puppy whose only goal in life is to eat the towel I’m using and my mom says, “Oh, I know what that is. But I canceled that.” Well, apparently they didn’t get the message and showed up in force to track down the missing lady and her kids who, might I remind you, had only been gone a little over an hour. Needless to say, I was feeling very embarrassed by this turn of events. Having come from a strong Norwegian background, asking for help was like asking someone to stick a pencil in your eye, God forbid you get noticed for anything, even good stuff, and looking foolish is as good as getting a death sentence. I can just imagine the conversation at the fire station now…Remember that idiot lady who took her kids for a walk in the woods in the rain and dark and nearly gave her poor mother a stroke from the worry? What a neglectful mother and daughter she was.
I eventually forgave my mother for jumping the gun…she’d made soup for our supper, along with excellent homemade crescent rolls so I told her she was off the hook, though she could still bet her booty that I was going to be blogging about her boo-boo. That’s what she gets for being a worried mother. Sigh. It’s nice to be cared about, but I hate that kind of attention. It did help that all the guys who came out were really good about it. Said they were just glad they didn’t have to go trekking through the woods. As they were leaving, Dorrie tried to go with them and I had to pick her up in her little towel and carry her back inside, mumbling about how I was going to kill my mother. Luckily they didn’t hear me or I’d really have been in trouble.
By now I have kind of recovered, and am glad we’re new to the town so I shouldn’t get teased about being lost in the woods for an hour. Just in case, though, I think I’ll wear sunglasses and a scarf for the next few weeks.
Anyhoo, I wasn’t going to blog about any of that, but it came up so I thought I’d better get it down while I was still mad.
Now…back to my regularly scheduled blog. Remember that I’m attempting to finish a novel in the month of November without going mad? Well, on November 1st I started with about 73 pages with the hope of completing the rest of the novel in 30 days. So far, I am rocking the house! Somehow I am managing to write 5+ pages a day and enjoying it. Working around kids, a puppy, storytime at the library, the election, a baby shower, and getting ready for a craft fair (I ordered 1000 bookmarks and have to trim them all because the stupid company didn’t cut them right), not to mention the whole cop trauma, I am still managing to write.
Of course, getting enough sleep is another matter.
Relaxation time has gone out the window, as well. But here’s what’s helping. Both my husband and I are taking the challenge. He’s not writing a book, but he’s making a new website and wants to finish it this month. It always helps to have a partner who is working as hard as you do. If he were sitting on the couch watching Ghost Hunters and eating Cheezits all evening while I was trying to keep my eyes from closing for a little snooze, I would be tempted to join him. Instead, he’s in here with me, working just as hard. Misery sure does love company, doesn’t it?
The strange thing is, I’m not actually miserable. While I trim bookmark after bleepin’ bookmark (and permanently cripple my back), we catch up on our day, discuss world events, wonder what to do about the puppy who keeps chewing on our computer cords, and sing along to Dido. It’s actually been kind of nice.
So far, I have written 32 pages. Of course, that’s 32 pages with lots of dialogue, which really can make a book fly by. Yeah, dialogue! I’m sure I’ll slow down as the days pass, but it’s definitely an awesome start. I’m shocked by it, actually. What also helps is knowing that the Thanksgiving holiday is coming up. I want to get most of the book written before then so I can actually enjoy the vacation. Which I do think is achievable.
But only if I don’t end up on COPS for being in the toilet too long.