Three odds and ends
The week started off with a bang. Or I should say, a pang.
Lane and I had so much fun at the Jackson County Expo Vaccination Center the first time, we decided to make another pass-through. This trip, instead of five lanes of waiting biceps, one lane held about three cars ahead of us.
I feel a little guilty writing this after confessing my wienie-leaning tendencies regarding shots the last time. My stomach was on high alert as I’d heard stories about the second shot sending people to their sickbeds.
I haven’t been sick in years, and making myself sick on purpose is something I try to avoid, but I knew I needed to see this challenge to the end. Small price to pay. Stiff upper. Ice bag at the ready.
The shot-giver knew what he was about. Contrary to shot one, I barely felt a thing, no blood sacrifice, and no bruising occurred. As time wore on I felt a slight twinge in my arm and planned to whine heavily about it later, only the soreness didn’t happen. I didn’t sleep well though because I kept expecting to wake up feeling sick. Except I didn’t.
OK, the next day would be the one-two punch I steeled myself for. Nothing. I mean, after all the stress hormones I wasted, I couldn’t even tell I’d been vaccinated. I felt my forehead and raced to Google to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with me. The CDC said I’m OK (how little they know) and protected. I’m done and feeling elated about it. We celebrated on the sprawling deck at Kriselle Cellars overlooking the inspiring hills and vales, with its delicious chicken curry salad and wine. Ah, the roller-coaster life.
Next day, my little visitor, a no-name (on purpose) kitty, showed up for grub. He is a beautiful, semi-feral tabby with whom I fell in love the first time I saw him blinking back at me from the deck. Then I noticed his neck. He had a terrible bite wound. How I would love to help the little guy if he would only trust me. Only trust — easier said.
Some opt for living with wounds. When he appears, he comes to my call and stops 3 feet away. Yesterday, I left the back door ajar and, to my utter astonishment, he ventured inside. But when I came around the corner, he high-tailed it out again, the little heart breaker. So this is my new pet project, so to speak. I’m afraid to attempt a nab, for fear of having a buzz saw at my arm. Advice appreciated.
The last odd end is regarding my forthcoming novel, Stone Revival. Set in the Lake District of England, it follows a trio of women (Gloria Stone with daughters, Claire and Sydney) trying to survive after the loss of Gloria’s husband and Claire’s and Sydney’s father following WWII. Each chapter is written in one of their voices.
It’s a serious subject, but all fine stories contain a goodly supply of humor if you’re British, or pretend to be. Stone Revival is no exception. Visit my Facebook page to view the cover and remain abreast (as opposed to becoming a leg or wing, for instance) of future signings and street corner appearances.
I’m thrilled with the cover, thanks to graphic designer, Ted Killian. I’ve sent the manuscript off to the formatter, so I, and most importantly, you should be able to order print or eBook copies from Amazon and other favorite booksellers before long. I’ll host a drawing for free books on my FB page later, so follow me for a chance to win. OK, I’m about to be ill from the shameless self-promo. Is there a vaccine for that?
This week’s forecast calls for ungodly hot temperatures to strike our valley. Stay as cool as you are, everyone. Now that life is nicely unfolding again, let’s enjoy one another with a fresh outlook and deeper appreciation for the gift of life.
Peggy Dover is a freelance writer/author. Reach her at email@example.com.