My grandfather's sister, Marion Barber Crawford, died on Monday at the age of 91. I'm not noting this because I want sympathy; I wasn't close to her and I didn't know her well, and I don't intend to display some kind of inappropriate crocodile tears. However, she was Papa's sister and Auntie and Daddy's aunt, and I had been hoping to interview her for my upcoming project on Arkansas history, and I am sorry she is gone.
I considered going to the funeral, which will be held in Warren, Arkansas on Saturday, but it's a long drive and we're planning a trip to Arkansas in a couple of weeks for Thanksgiving, so Auntie and I thought it was best that I just send flowers, since DH wouldn't be able to go with me and I'm not quite ready, health-wise, to make a drive that long (9+ hours) on my own.
It's just as well that I don't go, since, as I said, I hardly knew Marion, and it's a really long drive, but also because my publishing business is about to cause me to pull my hair out and I probably ought to go wig shopping instead. (How's that for shallow???) Really, I don't think the stupidity of the FEMA hurricane recovery efforts have anything on what small publishers have to go through on a daily basis.
e.g., The company who used to do my covers have gone out of business. Arrgghghh, I have the artwork I want to use for my next book. I have the back cover text. I FINALLY have the ISBN. I've nearly got the typesets. Final edits to come (Sorry Gillian). But now I need someone to put the cover together in a decent-looking and acceptable format. I do NOT want to deal with some a$$hat artist who wants to charge me $10k for a 15 minute Photo Shop job. Sigh…
It's a good thing I'm an essentially happy person, or I'd never get through it all. What? You didn't know I was a happy person? I suppose you wouldn't based on the stuff I write since it mostly comes across like chronic misery. But oddly enough, I think that's how it works. It's like that hedonic treadmill thing. Big ups and big downs only affect me for a little while and then I return to my baseline, which is generally happy. And when I write about my ups and downs and annoyances, I return there faster.
In fact, I'm about to return there now. With a margarita. I have wireless and a cellphone. There's no reason in the world that I can't pull out my hair in my new backyard, which is … not half bad.