Where I've been

Where does time go?

Well, if I had the answer to that, wouldn't I be the go-to wise woman of my dreams. But it's been a few days since blogging (I'm over the meerket snit) and I owe you an explanation. Or at least, I feel the need to explain.

Pumpkin Patch. Two simple words that rule my life the end of each September and first of October. Over a dozen years ago, the Library Board of our public library, of which I am nearly the oldest (purely in terms of service, mind you) member decided to raise money the best way we knew how: craft items, baked goods, and painted pumpkins. We save ideas year round, then in August, our chairwoman and craft guru Carole rounds us up, puts us in her garage with a sander, paint cans, and a saw (which she uses), and we get started.

This year, our simple we-need-money projects included Mr. and Mrs. Santas made from old fence board, turkeys of stumps and old fence board, little decorative trees (no fence board) that jangle with all the bells we've attached, clay Santa ornaments, and over 100 hand-painted and frou-froued out of their gourds pumpkins. Plus personal projects. Mine include mosaic crosses from old pottery and mah-jongg bracelets. Baked goods will fill three library tables and a used book sale will take over the meeting room. I am somehow in charge of it. Why? Because I write books.

Which of course I haven't been doing a lot of lately. I haven't typed but 200 words on the current WIP in two weeks. Life has interrupted. I'll get back on course once the pumpkins have new homes and the baked goods (I'll bake tomorrow and Friday after the books are set up) are gone. Three tables of pies and cakes will reduce to one in less than an hour. It's phenomenal and gratifying.

My blog and my writing will wait but Pumpkin Patch waits only for October and it is here.