What is Productive?

I'm at a loss. I would categorize my last two days as productive in that I haven't wasted a lot of time, I've focused on projects and got some work done.

And yet, I feel like I'm standing still. 

Let me give you an example. I received an e-mail from a friend about a non-profit in GSO that needs a writer. I sent the contact an e-mail, outlining my qualifications. I received an e-mail back today, stating she was considering a number of candidates and asked me to send in my resume, a sample of my writing, and a "before" and "after" of a piece I'd edited. I spent the next hour to hour and a half updating my resume, digging out before and after pieces, and putting together a cover letter and package for this woman.  

So, yes, something was accomplished. I got a package ready to send out. But in the greater scheme of things, I feel like nothing got done. I'm no further on projects that have deadlines, I have no way of knowing if taking this two hours will even pay off and I'll get the job, and I've still got a mile long list of things to do.

Another example. A funny cat story popped to mind today so I sat down for 45 minutes and wrote it out. I haven't  written a cat story in a while and it was fun and maybe someday I'll use it for publication or in a new book. Writing is never a waste of time and by writing it I accomplished something, but again, nothing that is on my list.  I don't want to say "Oh, I can't write anything not on the list" and quelch the creative spirit but ---yaaaaa!!!! I have so much to do!

I'm doing a really good job of sticking to the writing schedule I set out for myself and things still aren't snapping together as quickly as I would like.  I'm a pretty good time estimator too, so I'm not sure what the problem is. I suspect it's that I'm allowing myself to be pulled in too many directions with no focus on where I want my writing to take me.  But that's a blog for another day. 

Jake's First Boo-Boo

It happens to all kids. My sister called last night to tell me Jake, my 2 1/2 year old nephew, had sustained his first major injury, requiring several staples to the back of his head.

How it happened is a little fuzzy. My sister was just getting out of the shower when she heard a loud "Smack!" She said it sounded like if you took your hand and hit the wall as hard as you could with an open palm. Not a "crack" but a "smack."

She heard Grant saying "Jake?" and Jake crying, so she wrapped a towel around herself and went out to the hallway at the top of the stairs, where Jake was laying. Somehow he'd gotten his feet twisted around Grant and had fallen backwards into the corner of the wall.

They picked him up and that's when they saw the blood just gushing out of the back of his head. Nicole ran for a towel and then called their next door neighbor, who's a nurse. Per Nicole, she said, "I babbled something about Jake and blood and she said she'd be right there."

So Nicole's throwing on underwear and a robe and trying to stay with Jake and Grant. Grant is holding Jake and shaking, he's so nervous. Nicole thought Jake was the one shaking, having seizure and Grant said, "No, that's me."

Jake wasn't even crying when the neigbor arrived a minute later. She looked at it and said, "Yeah. That needs stiches," so they put him in the car and off they went.

Nicole was so proud of Jake. He barely cried and was very brave as the staples were put in. Immediately after it was over he sat up and said, "I see boo-boo?" amazing the nurse and doctor. So the nurse got a mirror and tried to show it to him.

Here's the best part. So they're gathering their things, preparing to leave and a police officer enters the room. He's very friendly and chit-chats, then says, "So what happened here?"

Nicole and Grant go through the whole falling down thing and the officer is looking more and more confused. Finally he says, "So this isn't a dog bite?"

Nicole and Grant exchange a glance and say, "Nooo..."

"Oh." The officer stands up. "I'm here to see some people about a dog bit. I've got the wrong room. I'm glad everything is okay here, thought. You folks have a nice day." And he walks across the hall into another exam room.

Nicole said it never occurred to her the officer wasn't there to see them. She just assumed any injury involving a child was probably investigated.  

I think the whole experience was worse for Grant and Nicole than it was for Jake. That's probably typical too.  But everyone is relieve he's fine, and Jake is very proud of his new stiches. As for Nicole, as she said, "Now I know how to take blood out of a carpet."

So don't mess with her.

Goddess Market Meltdown

Today was the Goddess Market in Greensboro, and fellow author and friend Pam King Cable and I took our books, our author pens and our party decorations to Wayneck Medical Center. It had stormed during the night but the sun was out in blazing force as we manned our booth from 1-5.

With "Goddess Market" being the theme, the vendors were all asked to come in their best Goddess Attire. Since I have a humor book on cats (Lessons In Stalking) and Pam has a book of literary fiction on Southern Women (Southern Fried Women), we came ready with a Southern Woman/Cat theme. On our table were signs. On Pam's side the sign read, All Southern Women Are Goddesses. The sign on  my side of the table read, Call Yourself A Goddess, Cats Still Know They Rule.

As you can see, we had fun with masks. I switched to cat ears early on over the mask because it was sweltering hot. Pam resorted to pouring bottled water down her neck and we both lost a few pounds to sweat. All of which would have been worth it if we'd sold any books.

Don't get me wrong, we sold a few. But not enough to cover the vendor cost plus the cost of our supplies not to mention our time. Festivals are always a crap shoot. Sometimes you can sell a bunch of books, other times it's like a wake.

We had lots of people stop by. Lots of laughing and exclaiming at the cuteness of our covers, the cleverness of our books, and most would tell us a story about their cats before placing our books back down on the table and saying, "Well, you girls have a good day."

I told Pam one thing I've noticed about my cat humor book is that people who come to my table and say they own cats rarely buy the book for themselves. My best sales are to non-cat owning people who have cat lovers for friends. They know their friends are cat freaks, just like me, and will love anything with a cat on it.  THAT's my market.

Now I just have to figure out how to reach them.

England Diaries - Conclusion

I think it's about time to wrap this travel blog up and start writing again about the important things in life. Namely, my cats.

So. It's Tuesday, May 23rd and we've spent close to 7 hours hiking that day but it's still only 5 pm. We go back to the hotel to shower and decide to see a movie. The Da Vinci Code has just come out and is playing at the small little theatre in Keswick. The doors opened at twenty till 8 for the 8 o'clock showing and you paid at the snack counter for both your tickets and your snacks to the same kindly man who owned the place. On his advice, we shelled out the extra money for the balcony tickets. We also bought a large popcorn but--alas--English popcorn is sweet, not buttered. Less need for napkins, though.

The theatre was packed.  Some seats were reserved in advance and had 8 1/2 x 11 sheets of paper taped to them, marking them as such. The owner closed down the snack area and turned on the projector. After 15 minutes of straight commercials, no previews, the lights came back on. This was so everyone had a chance to buy ice-cream from the girl who had magically appeared in the balcony with a full tray of ice-cream. I'm telling you, it was like chow in the water.

So everyone is fed and the 8pm movie finally starts at 8:22. (Good movie, btw. Go see it).

The next day, Blair is sick. (This is the day I popped in on the blog to say hello to you all). He skipped breakfast and stayed in bed until 10:30 checkout. He rallied though, and pulled through it. We grabbed the train back to London  and just missed getting inside our hotel with all our luggage before the rain started.

The next day, Thursday, was our last in London. We went to Hamleys Toys where the staff is encouraged to play with as many toys as possible and which is MUCH fun.  Blair wanted to visit the Sherlock Holmes museum which explains the accompanying photo.  I was frankly sick of touring at this point and was being a big poop and refused to get in the picture and be Watson. Shame on me.

We hit Harrods, looking for gifts for people and as so often happens when it finally comes down to buy things, found absolutely nothing  we wanted.

Here's where the benevolence of the Universe comes into play. I was tired and grumpy and wanted to go back to the hotel and nap. We went to our room--and by this time it was 2 o'clock--and room service hadn't come yet. I was already not happy with the accommodations as they'd placed us in a corridor with construction going on. I called the front desk and they sent someone immediately to come clean. Not wanting to be in the way, we left.

Blair wanted to ride a double decker bus and coaxed me along, which I'm glad he did. We sat in the front row up top and it was fun. We got off at a stop and noticed a large crowd of people around The Theatre Royal Haymarket, advertising the Noel Coward play "Hayfever," starring Dame Judi Dench and Peter Bowles.  The play started in 30 minutes. "Want to go?" said Blair.

I love Judi Dench. "Yes," I answered. But when we went to buy tickets, only first row side balcony seats were left. "They're pretty bad," said the ticket seller. We bought them anyway and are so glad we did.  All it took was leaning forward on the rail for the entire play for us to have a PERFECT view of the play. Dench was right in front of us for several scenes.  We immensely enjoyed the play and it was just the icing on the cake for our trip.

We went back to the hotel and I was done. I was ready to pack and go home. Blair had seen a steakhouse he wanted to eat in near the theatre, so we picked up some groceries for me for dinner in the hotel room, and he walked back out to the theatre district for dinner.

Friday morning we left in pouring rain to walk to the Underground. We were hauling the luggage and so couldn't carry umbrellas, so we just had the hoods of our jackets pulled over us and got thoroughly drenched.  I'm an early airport arrival person and thank God I am--the lines were huge both to drop off luggage and for security.  We had left almost 2 hours early and only had 35 minutes to wait before we boarded our flight.

Once back state side, our flight from New Jersey to GSO was cancelled and we had a 4-hour delay. I was almost numb by that time and both of us felt sick by the time we got to GSO, just because we'd been up almost 22 hours at that point. SO happy to be home.

And thus ends the adventures of Dena and Blair in the UK. Thank you for your patience in sticking with me through this. One thing we did decide is that a 2-week trip is too long for us. Future trips will only be 8-9 days. 

And what was the first thing I did when I walked in my front door? That's a no-brainer.  Kissed and cuddled the girls, of course.

Ah yes, all is now back to normal.