Greetings

Merry Christmas

The trick is not to be boring and trite…
Yet, clichés are because they apply
--to you and me and the butcher, the baker,
the candlestick maker…you see what I mean.

With or without a literal fireside, may you be warm;
with or without heaps of parcels, tinsel, and ribbons,
may you feel the beauty and know the bounty
of the impulse of generosity and the comforts of love.

2010

What If...?

Day one of a pre-Christmas show of antiques, crafts, stitchery, jewelry, edibles, cards & bridge tallies, photos and art--and books.
Having just returned from setting up a table, I'm feeling a bit the way one does while waiting for a tooth extraction.

Because I can't afford to have a raft of books I've bought sitting around, I refused to buy more than the half dozen in my possession at the moment. IF people are interested enough, I can get them in less than two weeks if they're willing to wait and pay for mailing. Why would anybody shopping for the kind of things other vendors are offering be interested in POD books, and maybe even less in a homemade poetry chapbook?

Friends who visited for a couple of days sent a thank you bouquet that arrived yesterday complete with handsome vase. Thank goodness! I was going to make the best of the remaining mums and some colorful leaves from my yard! After probably a total of 30+ years working in retail, this doesn't strike me as a situation designed for this old lady.

Besides, when I signed up, I didn't realize it would be two 6-hour days. I have to get someone to take care of my poor dog, or cover my table while I go home to do it, and I'll certainly be mighty hungry before I get dinner!

Wish me luck! Either novel will cost $18 including shipping; $9 for the chapbook, also including mailing. I'll post some photos if I get any worth showing.

What if I don't sell a single one?

Still Learning

Lesson for today:

There certainly isn't anything like a new location to give a new slant. We were expecting to be here in Connecticut by today, but not (as it turned out we were) by yesterday. The storm warnings impressed even my intrepid daughter, so we rescheduled everything and took off a day early from North Carolina. Since the route goes via I-77 and I-81, we're mighty glad we did! So here I sit in a busy household where my son-in-law is baking cookies like three of Santa's elves rolled into one, for his annual office party, a real wood fire makes the ambience everything an illustrator could invent. Yet, it could be any winter day, too far from what I now look on as "home," rather than almost the eve of the most-celebrated holiday of the year in the western hemisphere.

The fact that we have snow due in an hour or so, that the decorations are lavish, pretty, traditional, and that I'm in the bosom of my family seems as though I should be not only grateful (which I certainly am), but also "in the mood," which I'm afraid I'm not. Immediately after that remark, we all think of the conventional wisdom of looking for the important things and not seeking satisfaction from the wrong sources. That advice is still perfectly valid, and still does little to reconcile me with my place (I mean where I am in a physical sense). One more time, I am reminded of how inescapable one's geographical location is in one's emotional and spiritual status.

An effort of will is sometimes less than sufficient to the job.