Well, it’s finally summer the way we expect summer to be in the mid-south. Nuts. The living is definitely not easy. My horse children are standing in the barn in front of the fan and giving me the skunk eye when I walk in to feed or water them. Obviously the heat is all my fault. And this morning my friend Beverly and I intend to drive Zoe. She will not be happy, but we have to do it early or we won’t be able to do it at all.
We have had a relatively mild summer so far, which probably means that it will be over a hundred in October. And seventy on Christmas. Don’t talk to me about climate change! Tell it to Antarctica.
In the meantime, those of us who can hunker down in the air conditioning and try to avoid doing much else. I did get my story into Belle Books for the new Mossy Creek book on Christmas in Mossy Creek. Since it’s been a while since the last one came out, I’ve forgotten everybody’s names, though I do remember that the Garden Club drinks lethal Mimosas at their meetings.
Forgetting characters’ names is apparently endemic among writers. It’s like being in a play. It closes on Saturday night and by Monday morning the actors can’t remember their lines. I asked one of my friends one day what she was reading, and she told me a book about so-and-so and so-and-so. I asked her who wrote it. She replied, “You did, fool!” So remembering the names of the Mossy Creek Garden Club ladies is way beyond my pay grade. That is why God, in His infinite wisdom, gave us copyeditors, may they be blessed.
Now I’m going to be writing the next book about those wonderful people, animal rehabilitators. I turned in the first in the series a week ago, and the Mossy Creek story on Thursday.
Maybe it’s a good thing it’s hot and getting more miserable every day. I have no desire to go running around in the out-of-doors collecting sunspots and getting dehydrated.
Oh, and by the way, despite what Hoagie Carmichael says in his song, there is no oleander in Memphis. Pity, because it’s a lovely poison. I’d like to use in a mystery some day, but I’d have to have it harvested in California.