Field of Dreams

This past weekend DH and I went off to Iowa ("Is this heaven? No, it's Iowa.") for a family reunion. Why Iowa? Well, it's kinda in the middle for most of the people making the journey. An hour for some, eight hours for others. I have to say, I'm glad my sister takes the time to organize these things so that we don't have to wait for funerals to get together. The great part about family reunions is you have a chance to catch up with family that you haven't seen for a while. The bad part is that sometimes even a weekend isn't long enough. There are still people you don't quite make the rounds to, some who can only stay for the day, some for only a couple of hours. But on to the activities portion of this post . . .

So what do you do in Iowa? (no offense to the natives - keep in mind that many of us come from larger metropolitan areas, like Chicago or Minneapolis, or even Madison). Well who doesn't like the movie, Field of Dreams? (That's my husband raising his hand.) For those of you who haven't seen the movie or don't like baseball, the Field of Dreams is a baseball diamond in the middle of a cornfield down an unpaved road (well, you could take the paved road). That's what my husband saw. To those of us who were touched by the movie or have {ahem} overactive imaginations, it's poignant and a place where dreams become reality and family rises above adversity. Yes, I took a picture of the cornfield (that would be my sister playing the part of a ghost). The man who owns the farm was telling us that while they were filming, they were in drought, a lot like they are this year, and they were worried that James Earl Jones wouldn't disappear into the corn (it wouldn't grow tall enough) - he's a big man, after all! If you've seen the movie, you know that they did manage to make it grow.

We also took a ride on a Mississippi riverboat, complete with two paddlewheels. When in Rome . . . and the views are beautiful. There's a Mississippi river museum, and we also rode the Fenelon Street Elevator (a gondola that transports you up a steep bluff between two streets). And we saw an eagle flying over the lock and dam on the river while we walked through Eagle Point Park.

This would also be a good place to give a shout out to Amy at the Mandolin Inn. I interviewed Amy while I was writing Living Canvas for tips on running a B&B. The Mandolin Inn is located in Dubuque and is one of the loveliest B&B's I've ever visited. Castle Valley Inn (which is the inn in the book) takes some of its features from this inn, along with The Hillcrest Inn in Burlington, Wisconsin (shout out to Gayle and Mike), which was the original inspiration. Neither of these places have a secret room, to my knowledge, so please don't go looking for . . . NO, I'm not going to spoil the ending! Suffice it to say I've taken a considerable amount of artistic license in creating Castle Valley Inn, but I would highly recommend both of these real-life inns if you're looking for a fabulous place to stay.

The Mist over the Moors

I don't suppose we think of them as moors in the United States - here comes your definition of the day: a tract of open, peaty, wasteland, often overgrown with heath, common in high latitudes and altitudes where drainage is poor; heath. That being said, I don't suppose what I'm seeing can be defined as a moor. Marsh? Bog? Meadow! Semantics, I say.

This is my what the view from the train was like riding into the big city this morning. (P.S., thanks, Kurt) There's something magical about the mist, and it has been like this frequently over the past two weeks. Some areas are very dense, others already beginning to burn off. When you look into the mist, don't you imagine all kinds of things that might suddenly walk into view? (or maybe it's just me with that overactive imagination again). The playful part of me wants to photoshop all kinds of different images, from a dragon, to a highlander, to a knight in armor, to a couple hand in hand. The zombie apocalypse! The possibilities could go on and on. Secrets, shrouded in the humidity rising above the rain-soaked land. A peaceful way to start a day, wouldn't you say?

What would you photoshop coming out of the mist?

Soundtracks

One of the things I like about summer is that more people are outside. Today, I listened to a street musician on my way into/carrying through the window of my office. He has a speaker that he pipes a symphony through, and he plays along on his trumpet. I love music. All kinds. And listening to a symphony on my way into the office sets right a rough start to the day (left the house late, almost forgot my coffee so had to go back, hit every red light on my way to the train, made the train just in time). Street musicians, now playing on a street corner near you. Only in the summer. Sometimes, the bucket boys play on the bridge (they use overturned buckets as drums).

I often write to music, depending on my concentration level. If the concentration is there, it doesn't matter what's playing in the background. If the concentration is sketchy, I stick with instrumental. If the concentration is flighty, the music must be turned off. And did I mention eclectic tastes? I like everything from Scorpions to James Taylor to Handel (and just about everything in between). Over the weekend, I was sending an email to a friend and she asked what song I was listening to. (Quick - what are you listening to right now?) Timing is everything. The answer of the day: Marlene Dietrich singing Lili Marlene (in German). Yes, some of the song choices are "out there." Quiet coincidentally contains characters with German heritage, so even though the music choice wasn't conscious, it was appropriate for the current work in progress.

Music is often a soundtrack for our lives. I saw a movie a few weeks ago (Little Black Book, in which the main character grew up listening to Carly Simon, another of my personal favorites). The story was a little off for me, but the music resonated. The character's mother was a Carly fan, passing that on to her daughter, making Carly's music the soundtrack to both of their lives. Of course, at the end of the movie, Carly made a cameo appearance.

Is there someone that could write the soundtrack to your life? Quick! What song are you listening to right now? (Or, what was the last song you listened to?)

A Day in the Life . . .

Best laid plans often go awry, or maybe distractions make it easier to procrastinate?

My son came home for the weekend. I knew he was coming, although I wasn't sure which day. So went to bed Friday night, and I guess my "Mom Radar" is rusty from not having the kids home anymore. An hour and a half after I went to bed, he came home. Quietly. While I was asleep. And I didn't hear him. I have bat ears. Or at least I used to. My kids couldn't sneak in because I wake up at every little noise. Or used to. I woke up Saturday morning and saw his bedroom door closed. Imagine that! Someone broke into my house and all they did was close his bedroom door. It was almost like one of those Folgers commercials. Except nobody was making coffee. I spent some time with him on Saturday, catching up, crossing paths while I did my chores and he ran his errands.

He had plans on Sunday, so he wasn't around much. That gave me most of the day to fix the holes in "Quiet," although instead I found myself making trailers for Living Canvas. Procrastination, you know. I have to write suspense scenes in "Quiet," actually put my characters in mortal peril, and that is still difficult to do. In spite of that, I managed to edit a major portion of the work (and that counts!).

As of Monday morning, my son has returned to his developing life. Back to college, and work until college starts. No more distractions for me (other than the everyday). Back to putting my characters in mortal danger without a net (although it's still up to me to give them a way out).

I make a lousy bad guy. The police keep getting there too quickly (I keep wanting to save my "friends" from the evils of the story). That being said, "Quiet" is darn close to done!