by jphilo | Nov 9, 2015 | Daily Life
This house almost always has 1 writer in the house. But for about 2 1/2 weeks, while our daughter and her family were here while the Man of Steel and Woman of Aluminum recovered, the writer population around here swelled to 3.
A Philo Phamily writers’ colony right here on the pharm.
As the days went by, the kitchen island sprouted notebooks and pens, the living room resounded with keyboard tapping, the voice of a young author reading her manuscript to the Man of Steel as he recuperated and the Man of Steel laughing at all the right places emanated from sick bay, the excited voices of mother and daughter discussing plot points for new novels tumbled over one another, and young parents sat together talking about how to better develop characters for an audio play.
Think of it as Little Women for the new millennium.
With fewer girls, more mature women, and a couple handsome men. Also a baby whose presence pulled the house’s inhabitants down from the rarefied air of art for art’s sake to fold diapers, change diapers, and play peek-a-boo. And the handsome man who’s a non-writer begging the authors to finish their next manuscripts because he can hardly wait to hear what happens next.
Heady stuff, as you can imagine.
Yesterday, the 2 young writers took their baby home to a neighboring state. Today, the Man of Steel is recovered and back to work. The 1 remaining writer was sad to see them go and good-bye. But as is the way of writers, she was not sad to say hello to an empty house. Because she knows the words inside her head require external silence and time to labor alone if they are ever to come alive on paper. If they are ever to be read by another author and revised. So their timing is perfect enough to make the Man of Steel’s laughter ring out–music to a writer’s ears–when he reads the next manuscript and begs for a new one.
Yes, there’s a writer in this lonely house. And she feels right at home.
by jphilo | Oct 26, 2015 | Daily Life
Scoff and toss.
For years, the Man of Steel and I did just that every time we found AARP envelopes in our mailbox. We smiled smugly at one another and said, “AARP? Us? We’re way too young for that. Not to mention that we take good care of ouselves!”
Then last week knocked the smug stuffing out of us.
The first blow landed when I got my new, lighter splint last Tuesday and was told I can’t drive for four more weeks. At least. And that I have to operate one-handed for that length of time, too. The second blow came the same day when the on-again, off-again pain under the Man of Steel’s right arm went full blown on-again and laid him out flat. As in flat-on-the-floor-on-his-back-flat-and-sort-of-comfortable, or in-excruciating-pain-in-any-other-position flat.
Between the two of us we had less than one good body.
Suddenly, we were prisoners in our own home. Reduced to begging asking people for rides to the store and doctor’s office. Wondering when to call our kids to beg ask them to drop everything to help us. Not wanting to shift from being the ones who serve others to being served by others.
That was the final blow. The blow to our pride.
Admitting that now–for at least a while–we have to surrender our independence and be dependent on others. Knowing for the first time in my adult life where Blanche DuBoius was coming from when she said, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Because going from independent to dependent is a whole new reality.
A reality we hope to shed soon. Very soon.
Once we do, once we’re back on our feet, we will respond differently when to those AARP mailings. The smugness, the pride in our race to outrun aging will fade. We will no longer scoff at those reminders that will one day lose the race. We promise.
No more scoff. Just toss.
by jphilo | Sep 28, 2015 | Daily Life
For the first time since who knows when, I spent several days at home.
Alone.
All by myself.
No Man of Steel, who went to Minnesota for a long weekend motorcycling with his brother-in-law and doing Papoo stuff with the grandkids. No speaking engagements, because the one scheduled for Saturday was cancelled. No kids, because they were here over Labor Day weekend. No pets, because we gave up pet ownership several years ago after gaining a reputation in the neighborhood as the black hole of pets.
Just me.
The Woman of Aluminum.
Alone at home.
Quite a switch at our house, since I’m the one who’s usually out and about while the Man of Steel sticks around to keep the home fires burning. This is a situation that can be extrapolated to reveal much about the true differences between men and women. Here are 4 examples that come to mind.
- When home alone for a weekend, the Man of Steel eats meals that require no cooking beyond the microwave and no dishes. Only paper towels. He purchases bagged salad or potato chips to take to the church potluck on Sunday. When the wife gets home, the dishwasher holds exactly the same number of dirty dishes as when she left.
- When home alone for a weekend, the Woman of Aluminum eats BLTs for supper every night because it would be a shame to let the last, gorgeous tomatoes of the summer go to waste. She makes chocolate chip oatmeal cookies to take to the church potluck on Sunday and since the oven is hot, finally bakes that apple pie she’s been meaning to deliver to the new neighbors who moved in a year ago. She loses track of how many times she runs the dishwasher.
- The Man of Steel mows and trims the lawn and deposits his dusty clothes in the laundry room.
- The Woman of Aluminum bites the bullet and cleans the refrigerator for the first time in more than a year. It is gross.
- The Man of Steel goes running as often as possible on bachelor weekends and remembers to leave his sweaty running clothes in the laundry room hamper so the bedroom won’t smell like a locker room when his wife returns.
- The Woman of Aluminum walks every morning of her solitary weekend, but her clothes don’t get sweaty because she refuses to run. Because running is against her religion. She sorts the week’s laundry before the Man of Steel returns from his trip and is struck by the dearth of sweaty, dirty man clothes and the abundance of kitchen towels and dish rags in the wash.
- The Man of Steel cranks up the volume on his speakers and listens to loud music every spare moment alone. All weekend long. Over and over.
- The Woman of Aluminum binges on Glimore Girls DVDS and The Hunger Games movies. Without popcorn. But with a few of the chocolate chip cookies that won’t be missed at the church potluck.
I could go on and on. But won’t because I’m writing this blog during my weekend alone and I really, really want to complete every item on my Woman-of-Aluminum-Gone-Wild weekend agenda.
Next up?
Balancing Mom’s checkbook and paying her bills for October.
After that?
Don’t ask. Just don’t ask.
by jphilo | Sep 21, 2015 | Mystery Update
In what may be a first at Down the Gravel Road, this mystery novel update comes less than a month after the previous one. Hard to believe, isn’t it? How can a writer, especially one who’s been hacking away at this manuscript for 2 1/2 years, make enough progress in one short month to warrant another update?
All I can say is that motivation makes a difference.
In this case, the motivation was a visit from my daughter over Labor Day. The same daughter who gave the marvelous feedback mentioned in the previous update. The daughter who I hoped would have time to reread the manuscript with the revisions she suggested. While I watched her baby.
Getting my hands on him was extra motivation.
Motivation worked. The rewrite was ready for her, she got it read, offered a little more feedback and then said, “You got it. It’s done. You should send it to your agent. And let Dad read it, too.”
I sent it my agent last week.
And am waiting on pins and needles to hear what she has to say. Since she’s mother to 3 young daughters, I’m doing my best to cultivate self-restraint and resist the hourly urge to email her and ask, “Are you done yet? Whaddya think? Did you like it? Huh? Huh? Huh?”
The Man of Steel loaded a copy onto his iPad, too.
He finished it in a week. Not an easy feat for someone who doesn’t like to read very much. Because he tends to fall asleep when he reads. But this book kept him awake. He really liked it and gave some good feedback.
To celebrate, I printed out a hard copy and am proofreading all 315 pages.
And making minor changes based on the Man of Steel’s suggestions. Partly out of desire to make my manuscript the best it can be. Partly because burying myself in the novel keeps me from emailing my agent and asking,
“Are you done yet? Whatddya think? Do you like it? Huh? Huh? Huh?”
by jphilo | Jun 22, 2015 | Daily Life
Ant season has arrived, so the Man of Steel and I are employing several creative methods to get rid of our unwelcome guests.
Ant season has arrived, and quicker than I can put on sun screen and leave for the pool, the ants are marching in and setting up housekeeping. Not just in the kitchen, but in the laundry room and the bathroom, too.
The day before I left for a writing conference last week, I dealt with the squatters by committing insecticide on a massive scale. I squirted Terro ant poison on little bits of cardboard, like a chain of delicious and deadly truck stops, strategically placed on the little ant highways they had constructed on our floor.
As the package directions predicted, traffic on the ant highway increased exponentially until the ants carried the poison back to their nests and unwittingly killed off the entire colony. Which happened, the Man of Steel informed me Saturday when I arrived home, the day after I left for the conference.
While I was gone, however, a new colony of ants discovered the kitchen counter. The Man of Steel was loathe to decorate the counter with poison and tried a different tactic. Namely, he killed off the invaders and left the dead bodies scattered hither and yon on the counter all night. The modern day version of the medieval practice of beheading law breakers and displaying their severed, grisly orbs on pikes in the village square.
Creative thinking on the Man of Steel’s part, but it didn’t phase the house invaders. At all. So yesterday, Anty Em’s Truck Stop opened to rave reviews from ravenous travelers speedily carrying word of the new establishment, along with teeny-tiny doggy bags, to friends and family. As attractive as word of mouth advertising is, the truck stop is not aiming for repeat customers.
For those of you who had been thinking of stopping by for a visit, please don’t let the contents of this post stop you. Just call before you come so we can shoo Anty Em to the cellar and clean up the village square in time for your arrival. Thank you, and we appreciate your patronage.
