Mois : octobre 2022

It was 4:30 am.

My favourite time of the day.

All alone with the words and a nice, warm mug of tea.

However, this morning…

Little kiddo peeps out of bed, promising to fall back asleep if mama lies down just a tiny bit.

Yeah…………………………………………………………… well………………………………………………….

The second I tippy toes out of the bedroom, we had a nocturn situation.

Which turned into a debate, punctuated by some tears.

See, in the kiddo’s bedroom – illuminated by five nightlights, FYI – there are some real monsters in the shadows. And weird noises. And something behind the mirror door of the closet.

Kiddo was scared body and soul, no matter the number of nightlights or courageous plush toys around, no matter how many we checked the problematic areas, no matter how close mama’s writing nook is from the bedroom.

So.

« Contre mauvaise fortune, bon coeur« , as we say in my little up-North francophone bubble.

By the time I quit trying to reassure my wonderful kiddo, it was nearly time to prep for the day job.

We went downstairs, and I started making lunch while my kiddo started talking about… Halloween of course.

A little tiny bell went « ding-ding » in my brain.

Against the Halloween monsters and spooky things kids at school have been talking about for days now, no mama’s will is strong enough.

Kiddo had a wonderful day. And a wonderful evening, treat-or-tricking in the neighbourhood, then eating much more than « just two candies, papa and mama said ».

And I had a great evening as well, eating some chocolates (not my kiddo’s, promise) while writing, at long last.

Tricky to stick to the big writing plan. But as long as we have fun, fellow writers.

Take care of yourselves, and may all the good words flow your way!

Around here, in Quebec province, Canada, October brings beautiful colours and cold weather.

Ergo fuzzy blankets and soft sweaters and wonderful leaves smell and lovely goose quacking and hot chocolate on the weekend – with five tiny marshmallows if you’re my kiddo.

Today, sun and wind brought the thermometer up to… 25 degree Celsius.
The usual?
About 8 to 10 degrees Celsius.

There’s a reason why weather plays a major role in any story, hee hee.

It impacts everything and everyone, of course, and in infinite ways too.

Right now, at almost 8pm, it’s 21 degrees out there. Even during the summer, nights rarely are this warm.

For me, the girl who wishes, every single year, it would snow on her birthday, this weather is nothing less than sad bad luck.

Close to a nightmare, really, if I let my thoughts wander about my kiddo’s future.
Forget snow. Will there even be drinkable water available?

But.

Since, no matter what, I still believe in human beings – otherwise, why write stories ?

Give it one or two other deadly pandemics, top with a good ten years of drought and wildfires and floods, plus a few devasting hurricanes, sprinkled with worldwide energy shortage and stupid-to-the-very-core wars.

And then. Maybe. Humans will stop destroying themselves for the sake of being able to buy cheap stuff that will be thrown in the garbage sooner than it should.

Maybe.

Until then, I will keep wishing for a bit of snow at the end of October in Quebec province, Canada.

Be kind to yourself, dear fellow writer, and happy writing.

In the past few weeks, it’s been a challenge to even find the energy to turn on the laptop in the evening.

A challenge to take the time to read the great work of my fellow writers-bloggers-book-reviewers.

To find enough words, and then find the strength to write them down into a coherent and hopefully funny blog post had become… hard.

Luckily, I’ve got old tips and tricks, plus a new one: poetry.

I’m no poet. The rare attempts at writing poetry I made over the years are proof enough.

However, I love reading the words of poets.

Poets of the past. Poets of the now.

In the words of poets, I find peace, beauty and dreams.
I find lights through rather grey retail work days.

And I find the motivation to keep writing.

To Poets of the world, eternal thanks!