I'm sitting on my front porch with my knees propped up on the wicker chair across from me working on my computer. The birds screech and warble. The breeze flicks through the trees, moving the branches.
I see trees and weeds growing in the clover that I should get up and cut, but I don't move from this spot.
A bird swoops across, letting the wind lift him from below before he settles in a tree. Then the wooden wind chimes clank a few times. The sun shines hot, but this place on the porch is shaded.
I have papers I could grade, but I'm taking the day off. I can get to those tomorrow. Today, I plan to work on revising my novel. I've revised (again) the first 50 pages. Today I will finish 50 more. Grace is reading it, looking for typos or missing information. When she finished the second 25-page section, she handed it back and said, "Do you have more? I really want to keep reading."
She may have only said that to make me feel better, but I hope she actually enjoys it, and like a book you don't want to put down, wants to read on.
So think of me on this Memorial Day Sunday, sitting on the porch, feeling the breeze sweep across and reading through my novel with the title revised (actually changed back to the first title) The Summer of France.
Hopefully, it will be coming soon to a bookstore near you. You'll be the first to know.
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