Our dear friends have arrived and the last few days have been a mishmash of talking, meals, and driving around on scooters to look at houses. There are kids who are happy to see each other. They run in and out of the house, climb into and out of the white flower tree. I did find two boys sitting on the roof of the studio/kitchen the other day. My own boy seemed shocked when I said he wasn’t supposed to be up there. I’m pretty sure his shock was due to his talent for acting, but I also know that these boys who have lived in India for so long see nothing wrong with sitting on rooftops. I have drawn a line at our slightly slanted, shingled rooftop (and even I question myself). For now, no sitting on the roof, at the very least because it will make our neighbors nervous.
I haven’t felt much prouder than I did when I drove Brendan and Leaf around in the chariot to peek at a few houses. Precious cargo. They found a house quickly and move in today. My heart is happy.
The fields around our town are greener and greener now that beans have been planted and the rice is going in. Yesterday I rode my bicycle out to a favorite coffee shop and sat writing, surrounded by green, my plant-loving heart full and inspired.
Some of you dear readers have remarked that I sound happier. I think I can’t really express how much the lack of ability to go back for a visit was weighing on me, how it invaded my dreams and made me feel so heavy, so trapped. We have our tickets (thank you again, so much!) and are planning our itinerary and that weight has lifted. I feel light and free.
I’ve been painting and writing, always wishing I had more time for both but happy with what I have. Two days ago I started the rough draft for a new book, an upper middle grade fantasy book, which is such a different genre from what I’ve written so far, but one of my favorites. They say to write what you love, and I read kids’ fantasy excitedly--I am just as much a Narnia or Harry Potter nerd as I might have been at twelve. It’s fun to start writing a new book. As for my last edit of my finished novel (which is called Sing Like Water), I think I’ll take a little retreat soon and hole up in a room somewhere. I can attack it, pace a little, eat some chocolate, work on it more, and get it done in a couple of days, rather than stretching it out over four more months in my spare moments. (Shudder.) I still haven’t decided how I’ll publish it, whether I’ll try for traditional publishing or do it myself again. We’ll see.
Happy belated Canada Day, by the way, and Happy Independence Day to my American friends and family.