Sunday, January 21, 2007

The Editor's Coming, The Editor's Coming!

Everybody LOOK BUSY!!
Tuesday morning The Editor, Gwen Steege, is coming by to see where I am at. This feels a bit like when I was 16 and the social worker came by to see if I was ok on my own or needed to be placed in a foster home. Only it won't be me that goes, it'll be my book. Into Foster Care. And I will miss the way, I did snake out of the whole foster care system thing. I think it was my maturity and level-headedness that won her over. That and a dearth of real cases with kids in real trouble.

Before I cry over the editorial visit, let me catch you up to speed on what we've been about here lately.

First, I made dried fruit and fruit leather in my new food dehydrator last weekend. I love fruit leather. I love dried things. We're expanding the garden here significantly on the food side, so there will be lots of things to dehydrate. I began with a simple 4 trays of sliced apples, pears and banana and two mixed fruit leathers. Very yummy. I added some of the fruit to my next project - home made granola with gluten free oats. I want to thank whoever decided to tackle the gluten free oat issue. I missed oats. I love oatmeal, granola, etc. Being able to have some oats again is like nirvana. I wish this was smell-o-vision, because frankly the granola is excellent. And I even managed to remember to write the recipe down. Mostly, sort of.

Now back to the editor issue. I decided I should probably at least look like I am working, right? I mean, after all, it's important to put on a good show (you can ask my family how much of this is show. They seem a little frightened of me right now, but you can ask and be safe) This is where I spend my time now, here and in my knitting chair working up more samples. I have all but one pattern designed. I farmed out a few more this week and weekend to sample knitters. Note my Stitch mug of herbal tea - no coffee for me, unless it's decaf. We're not friends. And my water bottle, 750 ml, so I remember to stay hydrated during the Big Push for the Summit. Then there's the cat, white and glaring in the sun, all 15 years of her. This is the same cat that yesterday had a fit when I had a fit...I was upset a tad, just a small girlish tantrum about Girl's stuff on the sofa. And the floor. And the walls. And get the idea? There was swearing, as Mr. Wonderful stood silently by saying nothing, just providing essential silent support at a moment when I realy needed it. Or maybe he was just scared. I am not sure. The cat? She turned her back on me, sat at Mr. Wonderful's feet staring up at him, and every time I swore she'd "rooooowwwllll" loudly. "Daddy! That woman is YELLING! Make her STOP!" Hannah was adopted from a broken home a few years ago. Any sort of tension in our home causes her to freak out. I spent Saturday afternoon feeling a small bit of guilt about the poor cat. And hanging out with some sample knitters (Mary Alice, Kristen, Katy) at a lovely lunch at Fitzwilly's in Northampton. (Who's idea was it to walk, again??? MINE! I take full responsibility!) I am somewhere in the neighborhood of 4500 words, have not converted the patterns into .docs yet, and have not finished the technique section. I think there's enough material. This was a concern for me early on. I am over it. I am now more afraid that I will have too many words and have to cut things out. Uggh.
Will The Editor smile upon me? Or will she head back across the mountain scratching her head and retaining my advance? Will I die from anxiety about this whole book writing thing, or will I remain as bizarrely primarily calm as I have thus far? In fact, I am a little freaked out that I am not more freaked out...but hey, it's just meant to be! Tune in later this week for more stimulating news!
One last picture. Kioshi and I a zillion years ago, when the Civic was shiny and we lived in Northfield, and my hair was so thick it took 3 days to dry, and my favorite thing was hiking with the Yosh-Monster, who stole lunch from my backpack when she could, and had a strong penchant for Ben and Jerry's Doonsberry Sorbet.

No comments: