Eleanor Tatum

Yes, we should count our blessings.

OK: 1. We can afford to stay home.  2. We do not need to wear a mask because we do not go anywhere.  3. Currently, we can afford Mr. Amazon, although, at $10.00 for 8oz of sugar, not much longer.  4. Miss UPS feeds us. She is wonderful, bringing the powdered eggs and milk.   Oh, and the canned herring.  5. Our home is big enough for us to run screaming into another room for escape.  6. I can count to six.  7. My creation station appears industrious; ergo I can reach my thesaurus and research vocabulary to defend my craziness.

Oh! News from my writing world … I have hired an editor. This is both exciting and fearful. I am exhibiting my wares, making them open to criticism, in fact I am paying someone to do just that. I did send Lillian’s Choice to my valuable Critters, 5 readers who let me know what they think. I’m studying their learned comments and making the appropriate changes. Wow! I missed a lot of commas. My critters don’t charge me, but they do like me, which means they’ll be nice to me. So, I hired someone to be mean, because kindness doesn’t sell books.

Enough!

2.

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Growing up in southeastern Massachusetts the words June Bug brought terrifying visions of large hard-shelled dark creepies. Having an older brother didn’t help. He would aim for the back of my neck.

Growing old in southeastern North Carolina the words June Bug (at least this year) mean isolation, quarantine, “corn teen” and prayers for a vaccine. It means Amazon deliveries and weekly post office visits. It means powdered eggs, cheese, milk, and butter. Yuck.

Yes, count your blessings, swampy lady!

No, I will not list those here. There are quite a few. One arrived today. I am an author, searching for an agent. A friendly famous historical mystery author, Deanna Raybourn, wrote to offer encouragement. I became quite excited. Perhaps I will find an agent!

Another blessing worth mentioning is my oldest great niece. Yes, I’m old enough to have one. She turned 26 last Friday and she lives in my beloved UK. Hopefully, she will have a future that allows her to succeed in any field, although, I am rather fond of her current occupation. She’s a baker. A really good baker. She doesn’t burn things. Then there’s my ducks. My beloved readers know I live in a swamp and we co-exist with many species. Mr. and Mrs. Mallard and all their little Mallards cross the road and make my heart skip a beat if there’s a truck coming. In the south, that’s all we drive. Trucks. White ones. Our trucks have automatic alligator  alerts, too.

Those Yankee June Bugs would destroy these trucks. They’re quite hard-shelled.

Enough!

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