Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Snickerdoodles and hands

I’m so in the zone working on TREES I can’t make myself write anything else so please let me get away with a few rambling thoughts for this week. They say reading helps your writing. Good advice, it really does work.

If you’ve sent me an email in the days since Friday and I haven’t responded, I apologize. I’m having email issues and am trying to troubleshoot with Earthlink. Please resend to

A sweet review of Why I Love You just found on the Barnes and Noble website: “This was the best gift I have ever given to my husband. It gave me ideas to say what I needed to say, so on each page I added a sentence or two in my own words to let him know what he really means to me. He had tears streaming down his face when I read the book to him - both times!!!”

Thank gosh the cheerleading competitions are over! Jill and Linley are not nearly as happy as I am, but then again, it’s a girl thing from beginning to end.

If you haven’t already, go to see the movie Atonement. Great story, great cinematography, great example of a non-linear plot. Besides, I’m a sucker for love stories.

HarperCollins has added Daddy’s Little Girl to their website. It even includes a countdown clock to the release date (May 6th). Here’s the link (click the book title to see the clock):

Speaking of countdowns, Meagan will be eighteen, an adult, emancipated, set free (or is that me) in 56 days. I think I’m getting an ulcer, or is that what it feels like to be heartsick when your baby is no longer your kid? I jest, really; I know she is ready to leave the nest, and I’m slowly-slowly getting there.

While grocery shopping over the weekend I saw a young girl harassing her dad in the candy and cookie aisle. She wanted something, he didn’t. Tears were moments from falling when I interjected and asked him, “Is she a daddy’s girl?” She answered before he could. “Yes!” she shouted through frown turned to a smile. And she got the snickerdoodles.

This morning I studied my hands as my fingertips moved slowly across the keyboard, waiting to warm up and become limber again. Dry, wrinkled and cracked, a ragged cuticle and the knuckles red and rough. Years digging in the dirt, bending gold and silver, sculpting clay, wrapped around a wrench or hammer, wiping baby bottoms, shelling peas, scrubbing potatoes and peeling rutabagas, clipping on necklaces, pulling out splinters and putting on Band-Aids, rubbing tired eyes, clasped in prayer at night, touching my wife’s beautiful face. I should take better care of them.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog. Now go out and hug somebody!

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