This morning when I woke up, I thought about a run. My general rule is that if the temperature is above 20 degrees, I’m willing to run in it solo. I’ll run in lower temperatures, but only with friends. A quick peek at weather.com showed the temperature was 23 degrees. I was excited for a nice brisk run. And then something made me look back and I saw that 23 was the high for the day. I had to click on the “right now” for the moment’s temperature. Which was 3 degrees. With a wind chill of -9 degree. Hello basement elliptical trainer!
I hate coming home from Miami Beach.
Miami Beach is such bliss. We spa’d it. We ate it. We drank it. We visited tourist sites. We visited friends. We had ice cream.
But it’s not real life and as much as I always say I’d like to move back, I know that the fun we have comes only from being there once a year. Plus, as much as I complain about the cold, I have become fond of the change of seasons.
And coming back has its upsides. Right before we left, I sent my new novel to my agent and she responded telling me, “It’s not there yet.” I was blue about it for a bit, but then I gave myself the distance of the break and I have a whole bunch of new ideas I’m really excited to try. I’ve also been on a huge family history kick (but that’s a post or twelve for another time), and I met some relatives while home who showed me old pics and I discovered some relatives I didn’t even know I had, and it’s all providing fabulous inspiration for my novel, which takes place in 1935. With my bounty of information, it’s time to dig back into the novel!
So I’ll just make more tea, wrap on another scarf, and get back to business. 2013. It’s going to be the year of the novel!