I said goodbye to our oldest little old lady baby. Natasha Heather v. Katrina Heidelberg Vom Kleinen Zwinger (Galbiati).
Tasha came to us with an open heart filled with love, kindness, and elegance. Her nurturing disposition brought such a sense of balance to our home and now she's gone. We were greatly privileged to have her share her life with ours.
It'll be a long while before I stop feeling the life squeezing out of my heart.
I said goodbye...but not forever.
Natasha Galbiati
b. August 21, 1995 crossed over August 21, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Interruptions In Writing
Ever wished you could write at anytime, anywhere, without interruptions?
During the process of writing my first novel, I worked full time outside the home in an office, worked with two German shepherds on call for Search missions, kept up with my family, and wrote in what spare time I could find...complaining non-stop that I never had enough time to write.
Now, I am home full time, our two dogs have retired from service, and I no longer can complain about not having time to write...So why isn't my muse dancing on my eyelashes sprinkling me with writer's dust? She's busy searching out dust bunnies under my desk, looking for issues on the internet she can stick her two cents into, and listening to idle gossip while sipping coffee with the neighbors. She's become unorganized, unruly, and cranky because she isn't doing what she should be doing--keeping my thoughts flowing on paper (er-uh, on the screen).
Last night we had a little discussion and although I have no doubt that she's back to skipping on my eyelashes, she still enjoys fluttering off and playing with the dogs, the neighbors, friends, and chatting up a storm promoting my books.
This morning the phone has rang three times, I promised a friend of mine I would travel with her this afternoon to a small town near Houston to pick out some fresh veggies from the Farmer's Market and the clothes in the dryer won't fold themselves or hang themselves up, and I really need to make a quick dash to the store for some milk, eggs, butter, and chocolate syrup, and then the filters in the a/c vent needs changing, and, and, and, and...
And maybe the problem isn't with my muse at all--
And so my day begins.
Grinning from ear to ear,
Cherri
During the process of writing my first novel, I worked full time outside the home in an office, worked with two German shepherds on call for Search missions, kept up with my family, and wrote in what spare time I could find...complaining non-stop that I never had enough time to write.
Now, I am home full time, our two dogs have retired from service, and I no longer can complain about not having time to write...So why isn't my muse dancing on my eyelashes sprinkling me with writer's dust? She's busy searching out dust bunnies under my desk, looking for issues on the internet she can stick her two cents into, and listening to idle gossip while sipping coffee with the neighbors. She's become unorganized, unruly, and cranky because she isn't doing what she should be doing--keeping my thoughts flowing on paper (er-uh, on the screen).
Last night we had a little discussion and although I have no doubt that she's back to skipping on my eyelashes, she still enjoys fluttering off and playing with the dogs, the neighbors, friends, and chatting up a storm promoting my books.
This morning the phone has rang three times, I promised a friend of mine I would travel with her this afternoon to a small town near Houston to pick out some fresh veggies from the Farmer's Market and the clothes in the dryer won't fold themselves or hang themselves up, and I really need to make a quick dash to the store for some milk, eggs, butter, and chocolate syrup, and then the filters in the a/c vent needs changing, and, and, and, and...
And maybe the problem isn't with my muse at all--
And so my day begins.
Grinning from ear to ear,
Cherri
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