No Water, No Books, $ Unwelcome Surprises
Greetings from paradise, or at least the nearest thing to paradise an Iowa girl can enjoy when the October she left behind is colder, wetter and windier than any in recent memory. At this writing, this Iowa girl is sitting on the front patio of an absolutely stunning mountaintop home, looking past palm trees to the mountains on the far side of a the sunny valley.
I know, I know. All this gushing is making you want to strangle me. So let me assure you that all is not perfect in paradise. The two cases of books the publisher shipped last week so they’d be here in plenty of time for tomorrow’s book signing have yet to arrive. I’m not biting my nails over it, but please send up your prayers that they will arrive in time. About 60 parents of special needs kids will attend tomorrow’s tea, and it would be lovely to have the book available to them.
Also, when I woke in the lovely guest cottage this morning, the one I’m not going to gush about since I’m a really sensitive person and know an accurate description would renew your henchman’s mentality, the water didn’t work. So Gloria, my hostess, drove me to her daughter’s house at the bottom of the mountain, where I showered and got ready for the day.
All was well in this bathroom, which I would describe as my dream bathroom except that I don’t want you to haul out the rope again, until the scorpion appeared. Having watched plenty of cowboy movies as a kid, I knew better than to tangle with scorpions, and moved to the other sink.
So you see, paradise is nice, but not perfect. In fact the lack of perfection is making me appreciate Iowa – where I have books on hand for when the orders start pouring in, running water, and mice instead of scorpions. In fact, if you would leave me here long enough – say until April when Iowa warms up again – I’ll be closing my eyes clicking my heels together like Dorothy, and murmuring, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.” Unless, of course, I trade my ruby slippers for sandals and my gingham dress for a swimming suit and become a beach bum.
Just kidding. Just kidding! And would you put away the rope? You’re making me nervous!
