Posted on: February 24, 2012

Well, if you’re reading this, apparently I did!

(Goal number one: ACCOMPLISHED!) Now, round two.

Deleted round two; still can’t figure out the photo thing. *sigh* It says I have an account with Gra-whatever for my photo (the av that’s supposed to follow me everywhere?); but I go, I click; I enter; I click; I stare at it as it stares back blankly going… enter your info lady! What are ya, STOOPID!?

No you flippin’ piece of crap programme! That information is correct, and, since I am here, (I am here, aren’t I?), it REALLY IS correct.

Apparently yes. I am the only person on planet earth that cannot figure out Flickr; Picaso; or YouTube. Oh, I have accounts in all three…now…or so I’m led to believe. I even, now, thanks to Flickr and Picasso, have Yahoo accounts and Google accounts. Anyone else out there want a piece of me???

It is becoming a major headache when all I wanted to do was write a little, share a little and post a photo or two… Well, at least for now I can write… (Hopefully post?).

One of these days I will get the hang of this. (Suuuuure I will.)

Okay, enough whinning for a while… (I’m sure I’ll get back to it.)

…Let’s move over to sometihing totally off the grid…


“Rainy days are the pits!” I shouted at no one in particular, “Or, at least they are when you’ve planned a whole week-end at the beach!” I added. 

I pressed my nose against the glass, watching as the droplets formed and slid down the pane, puddling on the sill until, all at once, it would sploosh over, emptying the little dent, readying it for the next filling. 

I looked around the rented beach house. Cabin, really. Two rooms. One, a combination living/family/kitchen/dining/ sleeping room; the other, a decadently appointed bathroom. It was snug and comfortable. All the necessities and a few luxuries included; but it was the seclusion and scenery that drew artsy types to this well-known bit-of-land on the western shores of Gabriola Island. 

Set off on the jagged outcrop of a peninsula with only one driveway in, therefore, out, made it the perfect getaway for someone needing to turn off the world and recoup their senses; the owners created a little world of its own. With the ocean to the west, the forest on the other three sides; a private lap-pool; jetted hot-tub; miles of tamed, tended, walking (or biking) trails, an imported raked, white-sand beach right outside the front gate. A wonderful fresh vegetable and fruit garden, tended by the gardener, but created for guests to make full use of during their stay; all intended to lull visitors into a relaxed, peaceful state. Oh, it should be paradise! 

There is no phone or cell-phone reception, no satellite TV. There is electricity and propane back-up systems. The cabin is heated using a wood-burning fireplace. The pool, and hot tub, are heated using solar panels and helped along with mini-windmills. 

I sighed. “So much for lazin’ about gettin’ a tan this weekend! Guess I’ll just get started on that storyline.” 

As a writer, I had rented the small cabin for three weeks at the end of summer, intending both rest and fresh ideas for my next novel. This, being the first weekend, I had not wanted to think about working. The weather had other ideas. 

“You’d think with what they charge for this place, they’d create the sun!” I mocked. Tossing more wood on the fire, I dug out my lap-top, found a good place to curl up and started to type. 

Words came easily to me. Very seldom had I experienced writer’s block. That’s not to say everything I wrote was worthy of going into print. Far from it! 

Very little of the drivel I would spew out each day would actually make it into any book. But sometimes, in the writing, a little nugget or gem would jump out necessitating a complete rewrite of a sentence; chapter; or sometimes an entire book! It never fazes me. Writing is my life. 

Occasionally I have to sink to writing a piece for a magazine or journal. (I don’t consider it beneath me; quite the opposite! I am genuinely flattered when asked to add my thoughts or to write a freelance piece.) 

I enjoy the extra income, but still, I do feel it more of a challenge to write novels. Imaginary places, made-up people with fantastic qualities; unreal scenarios; SUNSHINE! I shook my fist at the huge pane of glass. 

Rain. Still rain. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I declared, setting my computer aside and stretching before standing up. “Oh. How long have I been sitting?” I complained twisting and turning, working kinks out of my spine. 

After a long soak in the ‘champagne’ bubble tub, and carrying a cup of steaming ‘Lady Grey’ tea, I resumed my curl in the oversized, stuffed-arm chair and read what I had conjured up earlier. 

“Yuck!” I groaned. “Starting over…” I began a new page. “I must admit, I do love this programme!” I sighed over the computer programme that allowed me to just click ‘new’ and the old page was saved, and I could just move on. Even in a power outage, the page was saved! No more lost work! 

A few hours later, I felt I had a few pages of ‘keep-able’ work. And it was getting chilly. “Dang! Fires out! Gotta remember that,” I grumbled.


MORE TO COME… IF YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS, LET ME KNOW… I really do enjoy the feedback…

and, now, because I reeeeeeally want to figure out those photos, I shall post and run… (Then I’m gunna come back and see if it worked…!)

*hugs* …luv khrys…


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