Southern Bypass Comes to Life

Recently, my husband had shoulder replacement.
I'd heard the recovery would be tough, long, and would require lots of help from someone, like me. I knew I would be pretty near home and antsy for at least a month as I tended the recovering Don and his new shoulder. What would I do with all that at-home time? The answer was, "Finish your book, Southern Bypass."
 I had let it lie fallow for a year and a half with a copy on a disc and one in my computer. Its destiny was incomplete until I found a way to get it into the hard copy I'd originally planned  in the process of covering these long trails. My goal for my nursing free -time was set. But how?
About the time of the surgery, I happened to be in a group of  friends who gather regularly to discuss life and philosophy. One of the women is a life coach who has just published a book, Inspired and Prosperous. She told me about a self-publisher she had used, one that allowed lots of leeway in editing, assistance if wanted, and at the end,  a hard copy edition made available on Amazon. Create Space is the on-line company I immediately investigated.  I needed that missing piece of the puzzle and there it was, right on time. I had my publisher and way to accomplish my goal. I could get the seven copies I wanted to give my grandchildren and I had the time to do the final editing.
Having said that, I have completed the book and have it on Amazon. It has mistakes. There's a period in the middle of a sentence. There's a period beside an exclamation mark. And I'm sure a myriad more. But it's done and I worked hard to get it to this place. It's been a four year project, maybe five counting the hours I put into dusting letters and sorting documents. Was it worth it?
Yes. For me, yes. Eventually, for my grandchildren and children, maybe. My daughter has read part of it as she helped in proofing a copy and she told me she feels like she knows my grandmother, Nannie, for the first time. And likes her! Nannie would love that, and she would have loved Meriwether.   I had the same reaction as my daughter throughout the unraveling of my ancestors' lives. I got to know them and understand them. So,yes. It was a worthwhile effort if only for me. However, I sense congratulations from the women whose lives I covered in this chronicle. When I pass my great-great grandmother's  portrait,  I'm almost certain I see a slight nod of approval and a tiny wink of an eye.

Dismantling Curio Case

January 1, 2012. I haven't been active on this posting procedure for quite some time. Here I go again with a new year and new perspective. Well, not entirely new. But a re-vision of some things I've learned to accept and now find weariness as an attachment to them. For instance, the curio case of curious objects tethered to me for over 40 years. The thing is, I never wanted to be a curator of antiquities. These curios have been with me in this odd antique make-shift case for my entire adult life. Do we sometimes accept what's with us just because we blindly forget to re-visit if in fact we actually have to continue the relationship? Well, I have done just that with this parcel of curios I've packed, unpacked, packed, unpacked, etc. for way more times than I can count. And the truth is, I don't think I really like much of the stuff at all. They might be museum pieces. I don't want to host a museum in my house. I really want space and freedom from the old stuff. Here in 2012, I'm beginning by packing away the abundance of oddities. The snuff box that belong to my great-grandmother's grandfather, Hugh Dunlap. The eyeglasses, though quaint, stare at me with a longing look to be elsewhere. The broken porcelain pitcher. The lowestoft Chinese importware.The DAR brochures that belonged to my great-great grandmother. The Civil War relics. I know. Keep the old, but embrace the new. One is silver. The other gold. I don't want to throw it all away. I just want it out of my way. Out of my path so I can live more uncluttered in the present. I've been attempting the break for some time now and incrementally have succeeded. I take yet another step in breaking the bonds that, for me, hold me captive to ages past. My interest lies in the present and what each moment therein can teach me, offer me, usher me toward. In not making any specific resolutions for 2012, I have found answers already and unsolicited guidance into a new year. I look forward to the mystery of this year. So I'll pack away, carefully, the items I've cherished and protected for years. I'll save them and hope they won't be a burden to those who find them and might want to place them in another curio case. Perhaps I should rethink the destiny of these treasures before I pass on to my children and grandchildren an inheritance they might one day want to destroy or declare as a plague or menace. Maybe they'll be wiser than I and find a home outside their own home. Or maybe they'll toss these things into a futuristic dumpster and be done. I keep wishing for a voice from above to guide me in the choices I make regarding the future of these antiquities. I'm looking for the old bird who popped down from above and spoke clearly to Groucho Marks with a word of wisdom like,  "Send these to me."  For now, I'll go with the voice that said to me, "pack it in and move on". The space in my hall will be wonderfully, refreshingly empty soon.