Friday, February 17, 2012

reports of my death are premature ...

Oops ... been gone long enough that you might suppose me planted underground ... but I'm not. Nor have I been bitten by a Zombie, although I admit to being addicted to episodes of The Walking Dead. Excuse: I have been busy with life since last summer as well as royally bummed out well into last fall. When I left you last I was pretty pissed off at missing our summer vacation and sweltering in the Florida heat.

As it happened, there were sixteen issues with our RV that had to be repaired and it was in the shop for nearly eleven weeks in 2011. Now, color me naive, but when you buy something new you sorta expect things to actually work. Good news was, everything except the towing charges for the ninety mile trip to Tampa for initial repairs were free under warranty. Bad news was, since everything was under warranty there were only certain places certified to work on the problems and everything took an inordinate amount of time to be certified by the various manufacturers and repair people and parts had to be returned and shipped and reshipped when the wrong ones were sent ... well, you get the idea. We suspect our coach was assembled by random passerby's recruited as day laborers rather than actual craftsmen. But, seriously, a motor home is like a house on wheels during an earthquake. Things shake, rattle, and roll and have to be made really well. We finally had all the repairs done (except the cruise control which still doesn't work and never has) by the end of September.

No fall leaf tour for us, but we did spend a perfect Thanksgiving in St Augustine and a perfect week after Christmas in Savannah. We indulged our literary bent while in Savannah by touring the Flannery O'Conner house and the Mercer Williams house of Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil fame. We also toured the spooky Sorrell Weed house, reputedly one of the most haunted in America. Silly me went into the cellar back rooms which are the spookiest places of all according to the ghost tour operators ... alone ... just me and the floating orbs. I said, "Show me whatcha got" but they didn't. Color me skeptical, although I ain't afraid of no haints anyhow. They missed a chance to have me write their stories.

Speaking of writing, my novel, The Adventures of Mungo Tim, did come out (FINALLY) the week before Christmas and is currently available on Amazon as a Kindle book and in print from The misery of writing and producing this 435 page book would fill up several blogs. Probably will, but not today. I am 245 pages into my next novel, Charlie's Dog, at present.

Speaking of dogs, January and February have been tough. Two of our three dogs suddenly decided to become as friendly as Republicans and Democrats and began bloody fights. I have paid for four weeks of training for both at a dog behavior center since I am weary of emergency vet visits for torn up legs and necks. Have watched many many episodes of The Dog Whisperer and purchased the Illusion collars (which really do work by the way). Still working the rehab program and when the pooches are home they are either crated or locked in separate areas of the house which is pretty awful and sadly seems to be 'The New Normal'. Hoping for a better eventual outcome. It seems its always something to ruin my mellow. If it isn't sluggish publishers and impossible to work with artists and RV breakdowns its nice dogs turning into canine gladiators...ah well, could be worse.

My hand wounds heeled, the fingernails are growing back and the Zombie Apocalypse hasn't happened yet. I'll try to be a better blogger, boys and girls. Live long and prosper.

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