Happy Mother’s Day!
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My son (minus the heavy beard that he came home with, you might recall, over spring break, now with a much lighter, nicely trimmed one) is home from college now. He arrived with five “mystery bags” that he plopped down casually outside the laundry room.
I didn’t say anything, but neither did he. Now, he is the baby, the third out of three, and he has two older sisters. So the child knows how to deal with women, especially a house full of them who make it their moral duty not to allow him to, God forbid, turn into a man who can’t pull his own weight. But, also because he is the baby, he is absolutely charming, and he can sweet talk his mother out of nearly anything. Almost. So, to be honest, I wasn’t quite sure how this particular issue was going to turn out.
His sisters are still at college, plus I stubbed my toe on one of the bags, so I knew I had to, ahem, raise the topic of exactly which of us was going to tackle this…er, situation. I posted the pic of the laundry bags on my Facebook page this week, and the reaction from people who saw it was loud and clear: WAKE HIM UP, HAUL HIS SKINNY ARSE OUT OF BED, AND GET HIM TO DO HIS OWN LAUNDRY! And don’t let the bottle of detergent hit him in the head on the way into the laundry room.
He thinks I see this…
This unanimous reaction was a relief! Because I’ve (well, actually my husband and I, lest anyone forget I’m half the team here) tried really hard to raise my son as I did my daughters–to fend for himself, to be independent, to expect anyone, male or female, EVER to pick up after him. And not every parent does this, apparently, because after we hauled all his stuff out of his dorm room this week, he told me his RA said that some moms were cleaning their son’s dorm rooms for them before the mandatory final inspection.
My son then emitted a tiny snort (on seeing my *eyeroll*, methinks). “I didn’t think you’d go for that,” he said. “That’s why I already Cloroxed my shelves and defrosted my mini-fridge.”
Sometimes that boy just warms the cockles of my heart. This is the same child, mind you, that cleaned his entire room before he left for college last fall EXCEPT for one (damp) towel which he purposely left as a gift to me in the middle of his bedroom floor (for sentimental reasons, because every blessed day of his teenage life I nagged him to hang it up in the bathroom, for gosh sakes!) (But probably with slightly saucier language that I won’t repeat here.)
But back to those giant bags of laundry…turns out I had quite a surprise. When I finally confronted him, he said, “Why, Mother, I washed it all before I came home. I just didn’t have anywhere to put it so I bought a box of garbage bags.”
I was completely floored. Thrilled, really. (But I did remind him that did NOT count as a Mother’s Day present.)
And lest you think I’m really too good of a mother, guess what happened this morning? Well…let’s just say the wet towel’s back on his bedroom floor.
That’s okay. I’ll pick my battles. Because the war zone is pretty peaceful right now. And sometimes, for just a little while in this marathon, you have to bask a little when you do things right.
…but I really see this.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms, aunts, caretakers, sisters, pet owners, and any woman who takes care of anyone or anything! You’re all awesome!
Author Fun!
The Medina County Public Library hosted an author event today. The awesome Donna MacMeans (historical romance author and RWA board member) gave a plotting lecture and among the 38 writers from all different genres, I was happy to join up with some of my amazing NEORWA (Northeast Ohio Romance Writers of America) sisters. A great day!
NEORWA sisters: Me, Wendy Larken, AE Jones, IreAnne Chambers, Chloe Flowers
Historical Romance author Becky Lowers poses by the many books of her Cotillion Ball series.
Me! The backdrop is the beautiful Medina Library.
Historical Romance Author Donna MacMeans
Historical Romance Author Marin McGinnis
Event Today!
I’m doing a local author event today…pics later!
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Loss of an Artistic Genius
It’s hard not to think with great sadness about the loss of musical genius Prince this week.
Not long ago he dominated the music world with Michael Jackson and Madonna. He was a prolific creator, at one point told he had too much product to offer. He was rumored at one time to write a song a day, and is known to have a Vault of songs tucked away somewhere that no one has ever heard (yet). He also sang, wrote, produced, and played a litany of instruments, often recording his music one instrument at a time.
He was an original. Carson Daly said on the Today Show that in the 90’s, everyone imitated him, tried to be like him, tried to capture that magic sauce. Freedom was important to him, to be able to create anything he wanted to, and he stood up for that.
He was a musician, and he knew who he was. Original, flamboyant, prolific, joyful, confident. A show master.
Being a writer gives me a small inkling of understanding into the creative process. I don’t understand much about the creation of art, just that it is at times stressful, competitive, and difficult. To be a person who embraces all of that and so clearly knows who he is is a feat few of us master in a lifetime. To unlock that freedom within yourself and not be affected by outside pressures and become a full expression of who you are is…miraculous.
Rest in peace.
Along the Towpath
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I don’t know if you’ve had a childhood like mine–where there were two ways to get around, and your mom or dad driving you around wasn’t one of them! Our friends were the kids on our street (period) and if you couldn’t walk it or bike it to wherever you had to go, you stayed home. This is of course very different from today when we drive our kids EVERYWHERE.
The fabulous bike path tin the Cuyahoga Valley Metroparks.
Yes, it was a simpler time, yada yada. But I think the best thing I got from those years of getting around on our own (besides a love of independence and maybe even a sense of exploration) was a love of walking and of riding my bicycle. Sometimes I’m sad when I think my kids never got to experience going anywhere alone. (But the world is a different place now, isn’t it? More fears and worries, yes?)
I live in northern Ohio. We are a strong people here. According to the internet, Cleveland ranks as the 5th cloudiest city in the U.S., tallying in with a grand total of 55% of all days with heavy cloud cover (Thank you, Lake Erie!). Between the clouds and the long winters, we pride ourselves on a certain amount of mental and physical toughness.
One of the old locks (from the 1800’s) of the Ohio and Erie Canal.
So when the weather finally turns nice (around now, April) we Northeastern Ohioans come out in droves, I mean absolute droves, to our beautiful Metroparks along the old Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath trail. The leaves aren’t quite out yet, but these parks are stunningly beautiful whatever the weather. And the bike trails are phenomenal!
In these pics, you can see the glassy Cuyahoga river, fields that will be loaded with corn in a few months, and a quaint town along one of the bike paths. And most importantly, ice cream in my bike helmet at a half-way point. (Hey, it’s fuel for the journey!)
After weeks of buckling down to get a book done, it is a great joy to get out there in the beautiful spring!
Corn!…In a few months 🙂
The clear-glass surface of the Cuyahoga River.
Have a great week!