Best of September 2019

30 Monday Sep 2019

Posted by in A Precarious Magic, Best of

≈ 6 Comments

The light at sunrise here is so beautiful. The moment when the sun crests the hill of trees, directly across the river from the van window, and the true light reaches the water is a moment. Not the slow change from night to day, not the slow lightening of the sky, but a specific two minute period where suddenly the van is golden and the leaves of the trees are outlined in color, a translucent bright green instead of the usual mass. The color of the light is different than at any other time. It’s not that it’s brighter, I don’t think — and actually the shadows are very long, so no, it’s not brighter, it’s a contrast between darkness and brightness, but it’s a glow. And the fog usually has its ghost tendrils dancing on the water, but they are still in shadow, so the trees and lawn are bright and green and golden, but just beyond them is misty shadowed gloom. Yeah, it’s cool as anything, and truly beautiful. 

Autumn tree with river beyond
Not sunrise. You can tell because the river is not shadowed and scattered with wisps of fogs. But none of my sunrise pictures capture how pretty it is . This one at least gets the light on the leaves almost right. Almost.

And for 30 days in a row, I’ve gotten to see it. Well, more or less, some mornings were overcast. But how do I pick the best out of all those days when they were really all very much alike? Much time spent sitting at the computer, but not at all in a bad way. I spent much of July sitting at the computer, pretty much annoyed and hating everything I was doing. This was all sitting at the computer mostly loving what I was doing. (Until the last two days which have been really terrible, frustrating, annoying writing days. More about that in a minute or two.) Some walks with the dog, although not usually very long walks. A little bit of kayaking. The occasional trip into town for groceries, propane, tank dumping, and once, a delightful meal with a friend of a friend. Some good food, although living without a kitchen sink became annoying enough that I basically moved back to van-life cooking. Quinoa bowls and sous vide protein for the win. But always a beautiful view, almost always lovely weather. Even the rainy days were nice because they were cozy in the van. 

There were some days that stick out. I had my worst ever dump station experience, a true disaster, sewage everywhere. Ugh. That was not the best day.  I binged on reading for a few days, accompanied by warm baths, and those were nice. That baked cod with goat cheese I made was delicious, and I had gluten-free chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream as dessert with it and that was all very satisfying, even though the cake was so-so.  

But honestly, I think the best day(s) were the ones when the writing was going well. There was a day when I — realized something? Made a discovery? Had an inspiration? Well, lightning struck. I had an idea. A good idea, that once I had it seemed so damn obvious that I couldn’t believe I wasn’t heading toward that idea all along. And I’m sorry to be so convoluted in my talking about it, but I don’t want to get too spoiler-y. It’s not a twist, exactly, but it’ll be more fun if you’re as surprised by it as I was. Anyway, conveniently enough — or in one of life’s lovely coincidences — that was also the weekend when I saw the shooting star. So I’m picking the weekend of September 21-22 as my best days of the month of September 2019. 

And moving on — I only have a few more days here and I really, really want to finish writing this book before my life becomes disrupting. But the last couple of days were major writing struggle. I wound up cutting out a section/plan because it was just too ambitious. Yesterday I wrote in circles for hours — literally, hundreds of words going nowhere — and finally gave up and went and took a bath. Having a bathtub available is so lovely. I’m going to miss it. But the time spent staring into space while immersed in warm water made me realize that I needed to let go of one of the ending scenes that I’d been planning all along. I was trying to get the characters there during my writing in circles, and it just wasn’t happening. So I’m hoping for better things for today’s words — at least I can see where I shouldn’t be going now — but I’m feeling anxious and stressed about whether I can actually finish this. I have to remind myself that endings are always a challenge, always hard for me, but I so, so, so don’t want this to turn into another Grace. Word by word, right? One at a time, that’s all it takes. In terms of actual word count goals, I’ve hit them — if it was just a numbers game, I could call the story done. Alas, readers rather like conclusions (as do I), so somehow I have to get there. Time to get started on that! 

Bad Coffee

26 Thursday Sep 2019

Posted by in A Precarious Magic, Randomness, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

I bought cheap coffee at the grocery store last week. 

This is not an effective cost-cutting measure. 

I should do the math — I saved probably a total of $6, which earned me deep crankiness three mornings in a row and, if I keep drinking it, will earn me deep crankiness probably another 40 or 50 mornings in a row. Mornings shouldn’t begin with the thought, “This is bad coffee,” followed by, “This really tastes terrible,” followed by, “What is wrong with this, was there soap in my water?” Followed by a slew of other thoughts, all of them same ilk, all leading to a general sense of deep dissatisfaction as I head into my day. 

So my $6 saved is a very, very expensive $6 earned. Coffee = small pleasure = worth investing a few extra pennies in. Although the coffee shop $5 latte has definitely became a rare treat in my life, because that’s too expensive. An extra fifteen cents a cup, definitely worth it. An extra $4 a cup, definitely not. Except during gingerbread latte season, which is coming up soon, yay!

In actual news, I’m still house-sitting in Maine, still loving it, still doing absolutely nothing except writing and reading and taking Z for the occasional walk. I think, “Freeport, fish store, lobsters, botanical gardens, hiking trails, kayaking…” on a regular basis and then I think “maybe tomorrow,” and turn my attention back to my computer. “Maybe when Fen is done,” is probably the real answer. I do have to try to get to the grocery store today, though, because my food supply is down to rice, quinoa, salad greens and sauerkraut. Oh, and some leftover lemon-garlic mussels over rice noodles, which I will probably have for lunch. And an apple. I always have an emergency apple available. 

I did go kayaking one morning this week. It was so beautiful that I couldn’t resist. This is how beautiful it is: that’s the view from the end of the driveway. The entry point to the water is right by that white chair. 

river view with autumn trees

I’m surprised I’m not in that kayak every single day, but I try to hit my word count first and then it’s low tide and muddy and then it’s going on toward evening. So it goes — three kayak outings in three weeks is still a lot more than my usual average. 

Speaking of word count, though, I should get back to those words. But here’s a snippet, spoiler-free… 

What could she do with a little, a very little, pure magic? 

She opened her fingers again and gazed at it. A key to a door? A tiny bird, like the invitation she’d received in Syl Var, that they could use to send a message to Kaio and Gaelith? Healing energy to repair the damage if Luke burned himself? 

No, none of those. 

“Be a knife,” she said to the magic, picturing a blade of energy, like a miniature light saber. The blue rose from her palm, uncoiling, and shaped itself into a thin straight line, much more stiletto than saber, perfectly balanced on her palm. It quivered and she held very still. 

The blade she’d imagined was a lethal wire of light. She would much prefer not to lose any fingers to it. 

Top Secret

23 Monday Sep 2019

Posted by in A Precarious Magic, Self-publishing, Travel

≈ 4 Comments

(Not really.)

But I spent far too long working on a sensible way to share a preview of A Precarious Magic, the long-awaited sequel to A Lonely Magic this afternoon. It was probably not a good use of my time.

That said, I’d already hit my word count for the day, so I could have been playing some silly iPad game. (My latest is Homescapes.) What I truly should have been doing was kayaking, but the tide was very low so I would have needed to wade out through quite a bit of mud to get the kayak into the water and that did not seem very appealing.

So, yeah, anyway: Chapter One of A Precarious Magic

I hope you enjoy it and it makes you want to read more! It hasn’t actually been edited yet — well, except by me — so if you spot any mistakes, feel free to let me know. Don’t feel obligated, though. I will probably catch them in one of my innumerable editing passes, starting in October. Or maybe November.

You will note that there is absolutely no description on the link. I’m going to guess that writing the book blurb on this one will take me days of hair-pulling misery. Book descriptions are hard to write and this one — well, I’ll figure it out when I get there. Fortunately, I’m not there yet so that’s a problem for another day.

In the meantime, I’m having a delightful time with the actual writing. I said to a neighbor here back at the beginning of September that the end game is always like finishing a jigsaw puzzle when you have room for twenty pieces but there are fifty pieces left. Well, my fifty pieces are all slotting themselves into place quite nicely. I would honestly think I’d planned it instead of just discovering it as I wrote.

I am also loving Maine. It is crazily beautiful where I am. The night sky is so gorgeous — lots of stars to see, not hidden behind light pollution. I even saw a shooting star Saturday night, which always feels magical. The leaves are all falling now and when the wind blows, they skitter across the pavement like some musical instrument you’ve never heard of. The trees across the river that were a block of green three weeks ago are now scattered with color — still mostly green but with bursts of deep red and yellow, and on my walks, I spot other leaves in scarlet and bright orange. The air feels clean, the water tastes clean… it’s lovely here. And this weekend was toasty warm, which was nice for me — I was starting to get a little worried last week that it would get cold before I finished writing. I don’t think that’s going to happen now, but I’m definitely starting to plan my trip south.

I keep trying to take a good picture, but none of them reflect what I’m seeing. Maybe it’s just impossible to capture the light, the air, the sound of the leaves, the colors. But here’s a panorama from the door of the van.

house, river, trees, autumn colors, blue sky
Zelda enjoyed the weekend sun, too!

Dear Self, Have Fun

19 Thursday Sep 2019

Posted by in Books, Writing

≈ 11 Comments

I looked outside this morning and the fog was so dense that I couldn’t see past the middle of the driveway. I thought, “Oooh, how beautiful, I want to go for a walk,” and then I paused and thought for a minute. 

The river has fog every morning, little wisps of it that trickle along the water’s surface like ghosts. I’ve enjoyed watching it and I’ve also noticed that the colder the morning, the more fog there seems to be on the river. That’s not entirely true — there was one crisp, clear, sparkly morning that reminded me of the taste of autumn apples and it wasn’t foggy at all. But mostly, fog & chill, they go together. 

So before I opened the van door, I asked Alexa for a weather report. Ha. 36 degrees! It is time to dig out the winter coat, I suppose. Fortunately, my time in Arcata seems to have overwritten the Florida in me or maybe my upstate New York roots are finally returning — the cold hasn’t been bothering me much, although I am definitely not spending as much time sitting outside writing as I imagined I would. That’s okay, though, because the view from the van window is lovely and I’m perfectly happy to be cozy inside my van while I write. 

By about 7:30, the sun shining through had turned the fog into a mass of gold at the end of the driveway. At 8, it was dancing wisps along the river again. And now, 9:30, it’s gone, but all the colors of the day are bright and intense — blues, greens, even the oranges of the leaves in the tree out front. 

I have noticed that the cold is making me crave carbs. Yesterday I was determined to eat salads: I’ve got mixed greens, arugula, radishes, cucumber, and pea pods, all closing in on a week old or older. I hate wasting food, so it was time to eat my veggies. But lunchtime rolled around and well, a warm rice bowl with tomatoes from the garden, oregano (also from the garden), and goat cheese just seemed so much nicer. I could have thrown a few other vegetables into it but I just wasn’t in the mood. For dinner, another rice bowl with steak, cilantro, and chili garlic sauce won over green salad. I think my mistake was buying summer vegetables — food I associate with cold salads on hot days — when it just doesn’t feel like summer to me. Today, salad for lunch. Definitely. Well, maybe. 

In writing news, my word count for the month has finally hit positive numbers. Not much in the way of numbers, but positive ones. That sounds terrible, but it’s really not. When I got here, I started reading from the beginning and then revising. Basically, I just completed a first revision round, even though I haven’t written the ending yet. If this was Grace, that would have taken me six months and I’d be thinking about starting over again from scratch, but instead I can say that I like what I’ve got. I’ve got to find the ending still, but I’m going to get there, and soon, too. Although in terms of useless notes, the last phrase in my final file of notes is “sacrificial volcano virgin?” What the heck? I have no idea what I was thinking there. 

I read a useful book this week: Dear Writer, You Need to Quit, by Becca Syme. I look at a lot of writing books on Amazon, and often read the Look Inside, then either turn away or think, eh, well, maybe someday. Sometimes I add them to my wish list. Sometimes I buy them, and add them to my immense To Be Read pile. This one, I read the Look Inside, purchased the book, then read the book. That almost never happens. But I’m glad I did. The book does not actually suggest that one should quit writing, although she does suggest quitting lots of other things, including “Quit Trying to Be Like Everyone Else” and “Quit Focusing on Your Weaknesses.” Were those my two favorite chapters? Maybe. 

After I finished, I reread Cici. Cici is the only book of mine that is a comfort reread for me, a story where on a rainy or a sad or a sick day, I read just so I can be part of that other world for a while. She makes me laugh. She still makes me laugh, even though I’ve read her dozens of times and know every twist — actually every phrase! — inside and out. And sure, I get critical the way I do with my other books — clunky line, repetition, a little slow here, etc.,  — the editor brain never shuts off. But not in a way that ruins my enjoyment. 

Cici has sold less than 300 copies, earned considerably less than $1000. From a business point of view, it makes absolutely no sense to write more books like Cici. But Cici brings me joy. And you know, life is better when you focus on what brings you joy and not on what earns you money. Obviously, starvation, homelessness, pain & suffering are all not likely to bring me joy, so I’d like to avoid total penury. But for the moment I’m going to accept the permission to quit trying to be like everyone else (not that I ever tried very hard, tbh) and write what brings me joy. 

I’m also going to quit ignoring the past. (Another chapter I liked.) My favorite of my books = my fastest-written book. My most well-reviewed book = my second fastest-written book. When I let go and let my intuition take me places, it takes me to interesting stories. When I try to follow the rules — three-act structure, character development, instigating events, blah-blah-blah — well, I’m not going to say the stories are bad, because I don’t think any of my stories are bad, and if I did I wouldn’t have published them. But I don’t gain anything from writing painstakingly and plotting carefully. 

Does Fen change in A Precarious Magic? Does she go from one place at the beginning to another at the end? Does she have an appropriate character arc for a main character? 

Honestly, do I care? Is she fun to read and do I have fun writing about her? Yes and yes. That’s the only question I’m going to focus on today and tomorrow and for as many future days as I can remember this.

Change is hard, so I know I will forget. Which means I’ll go back to letting the undercurrents of worry — (Will people like this? Will I disappoint them? Will they criticize me?) — push me around. I don’t want to care about those things and I try not to think about them, but they are much too firmly rooted in the instincts of every Former Good Girl for me to ever truly let go of them. But I’ve added a note, QTP, Question the Premise, to my whiteboard and hopefully it will remind me to reread Dear Writer whenever those undercurrents get too strong. 

And now, back to work. I feel like I owe you a snippet for sitting through this, but I’m much too deep into spoiler territory. Would reading the first chapter be fun? Or seeing the cover, maybe? Let me know!

Home sweet home

16 Monday Sep 2019

Posted by in Food, Randomness, Vanlife

≈ 8 Comments

My driveway view

I’ve been house-sitting/driveway-camping for about two weeks now. For the first week, I barely went into the house: I did my laundry one day, I used the kitchen a couple times, I showered. I let Z wander around in the backyard and I sat in the backyard chairs and wrote, but I mostly felt like I was camping in a place with a house nearby.

But after going in and out enough times — putting the mail away, watering the plants, washing my dishes — I started to get comfortable. There’s an area off the kitchen that’s basically a fully enclosed porch with two chairs and a lovely view. I sat there and wrote a few days last week, when the temperatures outside made the van less comfortable, while Zelda napped next to me on the fantastic dog bed.

What makes it fantastic? Honestly, I have no idea. I should probably take a picture or at least find out the brand name because Zelda likes this bed so much that she has started telling me she needs to go into the house, for apparently no other reason than that she wants to nap in that dog bed instead of her own (two!) dog beds or the beds in the van. Literally, she will stand at the front door of the house, waiting patiently, until I open it so she can go inside and flop down on the bed.

But as Zelda has gotten more comfortable, so have I. Gradually last week, my whole van kitchen started moving inside. First the instant-pot, then the sous vide cooker, then my varieties of rice, then most of my fridge food. When I went grocery shopping on Friday, I acknowledged that I was cooking in a real kitchen and so I ate incredibly well this weekend. Friday, sockeye salmon with a garlic-dijon-lemon marinade over a bed of quinoa with a side of roasted asparagus. Saturday, baked cod topped with goat cheese, oregano from the garden, and lemon zest, with an asparagus risotto. Yesterday, spicy roasted chicken with mixed green salad. I eat well in the van, but it is so, so nice to have a real kitchen with running water and a vent fan. This kitchen, in particular, has an island that is the best working space I’ve ever had to play with in a kitchen. It makes me want to bake pies and cookies, because it would be so easy to roll out dough on it.

Unfortunately, I had one little disaster, yesterday. Well, or maybe two. The sink started first spraying water from the base of the faucet and then spewing water from the base of the faucet. Now when I turn it on, the water pours out from the base without going up into the spigot at all. Ack! I promptly texted my hosts’ son, asking for guidance, so am waiting to hear from him. Meanwhile, I can’t, of course, use the sink. That would be fine — is fine — except that the water situation was so distracting that I forgot about the chicken liver I was in the midst of sautéing until the smoke detector two rooms away started blaring at me. Double ack! Talk about oblivious — the whole kitchen was smoky and I was so focused on the water I hadn’t even noticed. So I currently have no water from the sink and a pan in serious need of some intensive scrubbing. As my mom would say, if that’s the worst that happens…

Good intentions

13 Friday Sep 2019

Posted by in Books, Personal, Vanlife

≈ 4 Comments

On Monday, I meant to write a blog post. But I decided it needed a picture to go with it, so I got my camera out. Playing with my camera was so fully distracting that I never got around to the writing.

On Tuesday, I meant to write a blog post. But I’m using Freedom, an app to block my internet access, and I forgot to enable web exceptions, which meant I didn’t have access to my own website. Oops.

On Wednesday, I meant to write a blog post. But I started reading Debra Dunbar’s Imp series, quite casually — you know, just a quick hour of reading before I started my day — and I … just didn’t stop. Ten books in the series, and I kept going until I was finished.

On Thursday, I meant to write a blog post, but I was still busy reading books with demons and angels in them.

Today is Friday. I cleaned the van, washed and refilled my water jugs, dumped the tanks, refilled the propane, did my grocery shopping for the week, picked up the mail, and now I am finally writing a blog post. Mostly just so I can resist the temptation to keep binge-reading, though. My two days of reading have put me well behind on what I am supposed to be doing, aka writing a book. Speaking of which… I believe it’s time to get back to that. I’m still hoping to finish writing by the end of the month, but my daily word count goal is growing by the day. Despite all that I have already achieved today, I’d really like today to be a day that makes my word count lower instead of higher, which means it’s time to focus on Fen.

A Lonely Magic

05 Thursday Sep 2019

Posted by in A Lonely Magic, Self-publishing

≈ 11 Comments

I think that I am finally done with my revision of A Lonely Magic. Well, or almost done. Before I post it, I’d love to have a few careful readers take a look and make sure I haven’t introduced a bunch of typos. Or really, any typos at all. If you’re interested, reply in the comments or send me an email.

This wasn’t supposed to be a major revision — it was going to be little tweaks, here and there, with one big but still minor change. But of course once you’re in the file… well, I just kept playing. It’s still much the same book. If I had a document comparison tool, it would be interesting to look at the first published version side by side with this version to see how many words I really did change — not many, I suspect, given how much time I put into it. But I made it slightly more YA-friendly. Still with plenty of swear words, though.

The big change was eliminating Theresa, the bookstore owner. She was originally important because Fen’s journey was going to take her back to her starting place. Maybe Fen’s journey still will take her back to her starting place eventually, but I suspect that by the time she gets there, Theresa will have been long since forgotten. Eliminating her also tightened the beginning & made Fen more active — she’s not pushed into accepting Kaio’s help, she chooses to go with him in order to stay alive.

Along with the revision, I have a new cover. When I hired the designer, I sent her a PDF showing all the previous covers, including the ones that I never wound up using. There were nine of them. Nine! That didn’t include minor variations — that was nine totally different covers. Along the way, I worked with six different cover designers (if I can count myself as one of those designers, which I am going to.) So this cover is the tenth cover and the seventh designer. I’m hoping those will be lucky numbers.

Book cover for A Lonely Magic with a girl surrounded by waves, and a blue phoenix pattern behind the title. Very blue.
I call this the princess Fen cover.

Revising A Lonely Magic is the kind of quixotic act that a traditional publisher would never go for — sales of the book just don’t justify it. So is writing a sequel, actually. I haven’t done the math recently, but between the professional editor I hired, all those covers, and the marketing I did when I released the first version… well, I’m pretty sure I broke even. But a new cover and many days spent revising were impractical at best. That’s okay, I love the new cover. And I love the revision, too. Let me know if you want an early look at it.

How to Cook…

03 Tuesday Sep 2019

Posted by in Books, Food, Recipes

≈ 3 Comments

Immediate one-click purchase for me today: How to Cook Without a Book

This is the updated version of a cookbook that I’ve given to half a dozen people over the years. The original was so important to me and so formative that it was one of the five books that I kept physical copies of when I got rid of all my belongings. (Two of the others were the edition of Winnie-the-Pooh that my parents gave to me for my fifth birthday and The White Dragon, by Anne McCaffrey, with a note inside congratulating me on having read 100 books in 6th grade. Just so you understand how steep the competition was to be in that tiny category.)

The Kindle edition is on sale today, September 3, 2019, and honestly, if you’ve ever thought that you wanted to be a better cook, this is a cookbook that can get you there. Not without doing the work, of course. I know that at least a couple copies that I gave away sat on bookshelves, unopened, and it won’t teach you a thing if you’re not actually going to read it and try out the recipes.

But one of the copies that I sent out into the world found its way to a college student who now writes a cooking blog. That thought always pleases me, because the only thing better than learning to cook is encouraging someone else to learn to cook. There’s a bumper sticker on the wall by the door at the house where I’m driveway camping/house-sitting that says, “Heal the world, Cook dinner tonight.” And now I’m doubting myself, but feeling too lazy to run inside to see whether I got it exactly right. I got the concept right, thought, even if the words aren’t exact.

Anyway, cookbook. Highly, highly recommended.

Best of August 2019

01 Sunday Sep 2019

Posted by in Best of

≈ 2 Comments

August was a lovely month. I started in Pennsylvania, zoomed through Vermont & New Hampshire, enjoyed a brief stay in Maine, lingered in Massachusetts, then started over again: back to PA, then MA, now Maine. Camping was lots of driveways — both old friends and new — but also a state park, an Army Corps of Engineers park, and a national forest, all of which were lovely. If I had to pick a favorite of the campgrounds, it would be the ACoE park, Winhall Brook, in the Green Mountain National Forest of Vermont. Such a beautiful place. I’d love to go back there someday and stay for a while. Oh, and a KOA, where I finally got to take advantage of all the amenities — the swimming pool, the trampoline, even the tetherball. And the camp store for ice cream and candy. Summer fun at its best!

August also included much, much good food. Most of it seafood, but I would be hard-pressed to decide which of the many fish I ate was most delicious. This week included a lobster pad thai and some incredible sea scallops, but the cod Barbara cooked in Rockport also leaps to mind. I think of cod as a “sure, fine, it’s okay” sorta fish, but Barbara turned it into a “wow, delicious” fish — flaky and smooth and flavorful. On the other hand, the sea scallops Deb cooked last night were probably the best sea scallops I’ve ever had and I already like scallops a lot. Decisions, decisions. I’m not going to make one, just going to be grateful as I appreciate the memory of all my delicious meals!

August also included lots of people. I’m not going to make any effort at all to pick a favorite visit, but when I someday reread this post, I think the things I’d most like to remember are looking at family pictures and reading my grandmother’s scrapbook with my aunt & niece; mini-golf & ice cream with my niece and nephew; and yesterday’s kayaking on the river with Deb and Zelda. Zelda was a reasonably good kayaking companion — she only jumped in the water once, we didn’t overturn the kayak, and there was more tail-wagging than whimpering. Actually, there was no whimpering at all, which is a good sign for my September plans of kayaking regularly. Of course, now that I’m thinking back, I’m remembering lots of other random fun moments, too, but that’s what happens when you have a lovely, busy, sociable summer month.

Looking through my photos of the month made me realize that it really took me far too long to figure out that I had dog spit on my camera lens. They’re all blurry and diffused. But here’s one of the prettiest sunrise I saw, taken on the one night I spent at the garden house. It doesn’t do the sky justice, but it was a gorgeous morning.

a sunrise over a green field

Wow, and I just remembered that August also included a quick visit with R and M! And a visit with Pam and her daughter at a highway rest stop in New Hampshire. Sitting around a huge campfire at the Travato meetup. Zelda playing with her toys again. Oscar, stealing my phone. Video games with my nephew. Early morning walks in Rockport. Yeah, it was a good month.

Wells State Park, MA

30 Friday Aug 2019

Posted by in Campground

≈ 2 Comments

I left for Maine on Wednesday and I made it as far as the Target/CostCo parking lot. I needed gas. And snacks. And toothpaste. And lunch. And by the time I was done with all those useful things, the sky was gray, rain looming, and I had a sinus headache and wanted a nap. So I drove to the garden house and took a nap. I enjoy rain so much more sitting in Serenity than driving Serenity. By the time the rain stopped and my headache eased off, I had no inclination to start driving, so I spent the night in the garden house driveway.

On Thursday, I really drove to Maine. Well, no, I didn’t. I really drove, but I mostly drove to Connecticut. And around Connecticut. And more around Connecticut. Note to self: never take Serenity to Connecticut.

I guess the problem is not “to” Connecticut as much as it is “through” Connecticut. Route 15, aka the Merit Parkway, has bridges that are too low to take Serenity under. Vehicles over 8′ are not allowed on it. But nothing I could do would convince either of my GPS systems — Apple maps on my phone or the GPS in the van — to let me avoid it. I wound up wandering surface streets in random towns and trying not to be obsessive about how much time I was wasting. Ironically, every time I’ve driven this direction before, I headed north to Albany and then across MA because even people driving cars think CT is a nightmare. The only reason I didn’t yesterday was because Apple Maps was convinced that CT was faster and I decided I was perfectly competent to deal with traffic, even NYC traffic. Traffic, yes. Low bridges, no.

I didn’t stop at all until after 1PM, and by the time I’d finished eating my lunch, traffic had added another hour to my journey. Five more hours to my destination in Maine, meaning an arrival at 7PM, not including stops for dinner, gas, and walking the dog. And further delays as rush hour traffic really got underway. I decided against. Or rather I decided I would let fate decide. If the state park right next to the highway was full, I’d keep going. If it wasn’t, I’d stop for the night. Such a good decision!

Wells State Park was not universally loved on the camping apps: narrow roads, sloped spaces, no hook-ups or amenities. But it is gorgeous. The host gave me a site “overlooking the water”, which is an apt description — I’m high on a hill with a steep slope down to the water, so there’s no playing in the water. But the site faces east and the sun is shining on my laptop as I write this, and I’m surrounded by trees and the smells of nature. Also, plenty of traffic noise, but distant enough that I can pretend it’s the sound of the ocean. (That is what happens when you aim for a state park right off the highway!)

This morning there was an orange note on the van. I was puzzled by how it had appeared sometime in the night, but I think I was asleep by about 8 with the front curtains drawn, so it was no surprise that I hadn’t noticed someone putting it there. Anyway, the note warned me that the town was closing activities between the hours of 6PM to 8AM because of the risk of EEE caused by mosquitoes, and warning me to use insect repellent, cover up, etc. I was reading this at 7AM, comfortably within the time of mosquito bite danger, so of course, I walked Zelda feeling absolutely paranoid about bugs and itching like crazy. But it was so pretty with the fog rising off the water as the sun shone on it that I still took dozens of pictures.

blurry scenery shot of water with fog rising on it
Wells State Park

None of them turned out very well, unfortunately. I had a brief moment of wondering, “What’s happened to my phone camera? Did I mess up the settings somehow?” And then I remembered that my favorite game with Oscar, the Best Brother Ever’s puppy, was letting him steal my phone out of my pocket and then run away with it. He was so cute and determined as he tried to drag it away. I’m willing to bet that my camera lens has a bunch of dog saliva on it. Time to clean it. (Also, Dad, I am planning to stick it in the mail today – I haven’t forgotten, I just needed the gps for one more trip first!)

If I was staying a few more days, the first order of business would be to drag my ever-so-rarely used inflatable kayak out from under my bed and start inflating. It’s a beautiful day for kayaking and this is a perfect place for it. But Apple maps is steadily adding time to my route to Maine and on the Friday before Labor Day weekend, I think it’s only going to get worse. So I’m going to pack up and get on the road. But I would happily stay in this campground again, mosquitoes and road noise and all.