How Hairy Was Your Move?

Well, almost everything that could go wrong did, but not everything.  Let's start with the movers.  They said they would arrive either Wednesday or Thursday, assuring us that they almost always get there on the first of the two days they promise.  They arrived at 9:15 pm Thursday night!  Thank heavens for my awesome neighbor who gave us a couple of beds so the kids could sleep while we packed the truck all night.  Ghost Hunk stayed at the house all night and I caught a few winks at the neighbors as well.  

The walk-through took place as scheduled at 9:00 am Friday.  We still weren't done loading the truck.  And the buyers' real estate agent pitched a fit and refused to turn over the funds until we were completely out.  I was raised in real estate, and I've never seen an agent act like that!

The Moving truck that arrived was not the one we expected.  It was half the size!  So...We had to leave stuff behind.  Again, friends and neighbors came to the rescue.  However, what got left behind?  1.  My writing desk.  2.  My chair.  3.  My work table.  4. My elliptical trainer.  

Did we have gorgeous weather for travel?  Well, we left in sunshine, but halfway through Virginia, the rain came...and came...and came...all the way to Georgia.  Two days of it.  And of course, all the stuff in our car-top carriers got soaked.  So much for the waterproof claims!

One of the best things that happened with the move, however, was absolutely perfect.  Ghost Daughter and I spent Friday night with a dear writing friend.  Joyce Moyer Hostetter put us up for the night, and it was great to catch up and share our latest WIP info and life stories.  Even the dogs felt at home at the Hostetter house.  It was lovely!

And now, we are in GA with Ghost Hunk (ah...at last!) and getting ready for another wild weekend.  Yep, we have to move again.  This time into are "real" house, which will be wonderful.  The kids have held up so well and I am in awe of their strength.  

And my family is all together.  At least until Thursday when I board a plane back to PA for the SCBWI Eastern PA Pocono Mountain Retreat!  

Ah...life!

On the Move...

I don't know how I actually thought I would be blogging this month, but with the house finally sold, I've been useless the last 2 weeks. The truck is coming tomorrow and I will lose all contact with my beloved cyberworld for a few days...maybe even a week.  shudder   So hang on, dear friends.  I'll be back online ASAP.  In the meantime...it's good to be with Ghost Hunk once again. 

When Did I Quit My Day Job?

There is a literal answer to that:  When I had my daughter.  However...somewhere in the back of my brain, I've always held on to the notion that I am a teacher.  I love teaching, and it is one thing that I was destined to do.  But is it truly the only thing?  I'm also a writer and in the last few years, I have begun to evolve and find my identity as a YA writer.  Does that mean that I am no longer a teacher?

I was forced to answer that question the other day as Ghost Hunk and I were cleaning out the attic in preparation for the big move.  Like all gifted teachers (that's a joke), I am a maniacal pack-rat.  I have boxes and boxes of curriculum that I designed for gifted kids, AP classes, and academic courses.  I've held on to it all since I quit teaching high school in 2000.  Why?  Because it's me, part of who I am.  It's like all of my writing...I gave birth to it.  I nurtured it, raised it, and sent it to work when the time came.  Now it sits enshrined in its pristine file boxes from OfficeMax in the corners of my attic.  Will I ever have a use for it?  Do I really need to drag it all the way to Georgia?

So here I am again at that nagging question, "Am I a teacher anymore?" Perhaps the more appropriate question is, "Is that mountain of old curriculum necessary to validate one career or even me as a person?"  Of course the answer is "no." I will always be a teacher, even if I never set foot in the classroom again.  But even before I dragged that first yowling sophomore through the pages of LORD OF THE FLIES, I was a writer.  A writer and a passionate reader.  And that is what I remain.    

I guess I walked away from my day job back in 2000, but I quit it yesterday.  Yes, I'm letting it all go.  I really should construct a funeral pyre and send off those piles of brilliance (again, I'm joking) to their just rewards with pomp and ceremony.  But a dumpster will have to do the job for now.  (Don't want the fire marshall throwing me in jail just before the big move!)  

But I will also celebrate.  Waking the dead and celebrating life as a writer.  I am a writer.

A Quick Note and an Amen

While I'm in the midst of furious packing (and I chose that adjective carefully), I'll take a minute to direct you to Nathan Bransford's latest blog and say a hearty "AMEN".  And my next post will address some of his oh so à propos points about the writer's life.  

But for now, carry on...