Life is what you make it. That used to be my favorite platitude and it meant nothing--now, as I approach my dotage, it has a horrible ring of truth. Why horrible? Because it means I have to quit blaming and start doing/acting.
Oh, boy, the woman is in a philosophical mood. Not really, just face-to-face with what only I can change. If I'm in the pits it's up to me to climb out. Now that's bad news. Blame was always so useful, together with duvet diving (pulling the covers over my head and trying to sleep my way out of "not being happy.")
No more. If I duvet dive in future it has to be because a) I'm tired or b)I'm cold. Otherwise it's chin up and get the hell on with it, Cameron.
Today has been good for me. Being with my friends at Seattle Mystery Bookshop has to help--they don't care what color sneakers I turn up in or if my socks are inside out. But it helped that I found my lines to live by. Not a platitude but true, meaningful lines: Happiness is not the destination, it's the journey.
I'll leave all my mates on the journey with that thought--and the news that I'm just finishing COLD, Introducing Alex Duggins, my reluctant but budding sleuth in a new (and I hope enduring) mystery series set in Folly-on-Weir in the English Cotswold Hills--with the occasional sidetrip to London or other places of fascination.
Loving and leaving you for now--but happy:)