Vets Day

Nov. 11, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

Happy Veterans Day to me. What’s my present?

 

I’m trying to submerge myself into another novel idea now. It’s so slow-going. Thin occur to me that I hadn’t thought of before and I want to start but then I know something else will occur if I wait a little.

 

I looked up ODD MAN OUT. I’ll have to see it. It had rave reviews.

 

Take care.

 

Love,

M

 

Sleeping

Nov. 10, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

Got an emergency call from a client this a.m. about a water line they need monitored. Easy work.

 

I didn’t want to get up this morning. But past a certain time I can’t sleep. Gosh, when I was a college student I could sleep a whole day away!

 

You said in your last letter there was something that had you angry you were going to tell me Sunday but you must’ve forgotten it. I guess you weren’t that angry.

 

Take care.

Love,

 

M

 

 

Fall

Nov. 9, 2015 (Monday)

 

Dear Hildie:

 

I’m so glad I got to see you yesterday. You’re looking quite good for an old gal.

 

It’s suddenly turned fallish, but it’s so dreary—more like winter, with the gray skies. I like cold weather but not betwixt and between weather, because I can’t ever seem to adjust my internal thermostat to become comfortable. How can the holidays be on us again?

 

I’ve finished my latest scan. Enough for now. That’s all I need to preserve for posterity, such as it is (!!!). Now on to some original writing, but I have to wrap my head around the new project, which means psychological submersion.  If I stay down too long, remind me!

 

Thanks for the Thanksgiving card, which was a new one to me. Also, thanks for the nuts—Are you saying something there?

 

Take care,

 

Love,

 

M

Sea weed?

Nov. 5, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

Seaweed is a nasty-tasting stuff. If one has to eat that to live, one might as well cash in one’s chips now! But to each his own.

 

Poor Pierre hurt himself and was whimpering a lot yesterday, though his appetite was good. I think he hurt his ribs jump down (or up). But he seems better now.

 

Almost done with a 572-page scanning marathon! Gawd, that’s tedious.

 

I’m feeling better now, and glad you’ll have the pleasure of seeing me Sunday!

 

Take care,

Love,

M

 

 

Writing and housekeeping

Nov. 5, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

It was good talking with you. We maybe can catch up some Sunday.

 

What’s wrong with going to the Haunted House? What are you, a kill-joy? (Yes).

 

I’ve finished the rewrite of the novel Summer didn’t like and have put it away for a little while to come back to and read anew. Now I’m scanning several lengthy manuscripts from years ago. At the time I thought they were great. Now, though, I see how much I’ve learned over the years, mainly about eliminating excess verbiage. I really resent having to do the “housekeeping” pat of writing—scanning in old manuscripts, etc. I’d much rather be writing. But that’s like the archaeologist who only likes to dig—you have to do the nasty bits, too, I guess.

 

Take care.

Love,

M

Steven King

Nov. 4, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

I caught an NPR interview yesterday with Steven King. What an humble, nice person. I’ve always gotten that sense from him. He puts on no airs at all, just does his thing, and is very modest about it. But that’s what I call a real professional.  And I appreciated his comments about Harper Lee’s latest story—He rightly says that the way she portrays Atticus is not as a racist but as a Southern moderate of his time. And King is from Maine! Kudos for his knowledge of the South!

 

Well, on to another scan. Take care.

Love,

M

 

 

Blah

Nov. 3, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

I have another long ms. to scan. One of those I wrote some years ago, based on my experiences in Yucatan.

 

Oh, boy—I thought Halloween was over but now the radio is playing Bach’s fugue—the one the Phantom of the Opera plays!

 

Nothing much happening. Take care.

Love,

 

M

 

Dropping all around

Nov. 2, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

Well, another Halloween in the bag and a very successful one. But I have forebodings it may be the last, probably because people around me seem to be dropping like flies.

 

They say it will rain again next weekend. That barely gives it enough time to dry out. A big limb fell down over my cemetery display—Well, it added verisimilitude, anyway.

 

Take care.

Love,

M