Even God took a day of rest from His work, so in this writer's life today, I tried to stay away from the computer. I bought Easter dresses for my girls, helped them practice their ballet steps and read a good bit of Horton Hears a Whoo.
While out shopping, some marketing wizards stacked at least 100 stuffed Hortons right, smack in the front of the store, in front of my 3 and 4 year olds. So now, Horton, is a part of our family, already showing his preference for fine literature (and shameless promotion).
You may notice that he sits on a vintage Hitchcock chair, circa 1920's, painted by my grandmother. I love this chair. I run my hands over the stenciling she painted, wondering if our hands are, or were, similar. And I often wonder what she would think about her granddaughter being inspired to write a novel about ancestors she never knew. Don't we all wonder about our ancestors, known and unknown?
Until next time...