I check the stats from time to time. To date 2,109 people have tapped into this blog site. That does not mean they follow my blogs religiously. That does not mean they found what they were looking for. But these stats are what encouraged me to take my blogs and expand them till they became chapters, till they grew into a small little book that you can tuck in your bag and read a whole chapter or two while waiting in the doctor’s office. Does this mean that 2,109 people will buy my book? I am not naive but I sure hope so. So my book is at the publishers…I will get an actual book to proof in two weeks or so and then I will have a date when it will be out on Amazon and Kindle. Thank you to all 2,109 people whoever your are, wherever you are, for encouraging me to go on this journey.
My toe still hurts but now I can see my floor and my furniture. My daughter helped me clean up the mess before she left with the grandkids. I am sorting out the piles of laundries and I have five days worth of mail to open and sort and shred and address. No one called “Grandma,” so we slept in. No one needs their diaper changed this morning (and hopefully we are twenty years away from that scenario for ourselves). No one is fighting over what tv program to watch. No one is asking for Cheerios and then for blueberries and toast and French toast and jam. No one is jumping up on the counter seats telling me they want to do art. No one is whining (except my husband and I can’t hear him). It is too quiet.
Wait. My daughter just called: Can the kids sleepover next weekend for three nights and four days? YES!!!!! OF COURSE!!! Does anyone have extra coupons to Michael’s? I am making a list of even more ambitious art projects to do.
My daughter decided to work extra this summer and she asked if she could come over with her kids so that we can watch them this whole week till mid afternoon. She wanted to make extra income and she did not want to spend her earnings on a babysitter. We were THRILLED! They get up in the morning and after breakfast, they jump up on the counter seats to do art. Then we take them to a playground that has water features or to the library or we put on the sprinklers in the backyard. The kids are engaged and love to do projects. The second we turn away, because we are trying to straighten up the mess, or do the dishes, or run the laundry, or just have a cup of coffee, the two year old is biting her brother or her brother is giving his sister a nuggie. She pinches him and he kicks her. She scratches him and he punches her. She takes whatever he is playing with and screams: “Mine, mine, mine.”
We have a small house so it is “cozy, cozy.” But we cannot see the floors because all the kid stuff is out. I managed to break a toe when I banged into my own trunk which I forgot was in a new spot so that the kids would have more room to play. I do not remember the last time I showered and I cannot remember if I took my blood pressure med today.
The second they leave, I will miss them. And the second my daughter calls to ask me if they can sleep over, I will say “YES” so loudly, you will probably hear me.
There is just something about grandkids…
We have a 40 year old man child who, fortunately, for all of us, does not live with us or near us. He is an “artiste,” a musician with an “artiste” attitude. He has two children, is divorced, and lives with his mother. He makes fun of the 40 year olds who look “old.” He would rather work without benefits of any sort and travel all over to play gigs at all hours of the day and night. He thinks money is not important. However, art is. He does not want to compromise his soul but evidently, he does not mind compromising his future, his children’s future, and his mother’s money. What is it about starving artists that both attracts and repels us? And can’t you have an artist without an attitude?
I left NYC years ago to raise my daughter in the suburbs. I thought a backyard and some more space would be better than the chaotic rush- rush of the city. My adult daughter has settled in the city, chose to live in a 2 bedroom coop with two kids – a boy and a girl, and is sending my grandson to one of the most crowded public school in NYC. There are over 1,100 students in the elementary school. She has managed to find a community of friends, near a playground and park, and is staying put. And all these years, I held out in the suburbs hoping she would settle near us but secretly longing to be back in the city myself. I want to be able to walk to a Starbucks, hop a train, and go to Broadway. And yet, here I am, stuck in the burbs because I cannot afford the city. My daughter is stuck in the city because she cannot afford a decent home in the suburbs. Can anyone explain this?
In my book, RAGING AGAINST AGING, I wrote about the artist Bonnard who was caught touching up his own painting in the Louvre. He was escorted out by security guards, his paints and brushes in hand. I cannot believe that I am still finding mistakes – fewer and less glaring – but mistakes, nonetheless. I had my piece edited by the author Sherry Suib Cohen, by two friends, my brother-in-law, and twice by my daughter. I myself have edited my 140 page book at least 12 times. A close friend, who was a professional book editor her entire life, edited it yet again and made 1,055 comments. I accepted 98% of her suggestions. And yet, I am still finding mistakes. I left out a space after a period. I forgot to add the “s” for a plural. I used the past perfect instead of the simple past.
I don’t remember finding obvious mistakes in any of the books I read as a child. And I read MANY, MANY books. But just two weeks ago, CNN had a headline that read”WEEK Earnings…”
So, exactly when will my book be ready for publication?
Source: I turned my blog into a book!