Cynthia Harrison's Blog, page 3

A Place in the World

Our grandchildren, all three of them, came to visit! We have two sons and our younger has one child (a boy) and our oldest has a boy and a girl. The cousins don’t live anywhere close to the same state so it’s a thrill for them to see each other. The boys instantly click like best friends no matter how much time has gone by (Covid!) since they saw each other last, maybe because they are only about a year apart. “Our” little girl is the youngest and she is very sweet. Her favorite color is pink and she asks me to read to her and sit by her as she paints pictures and likes to keep her hands clean. She’s brave, too, and follows the boys in their adventures. They all put on wetsuits and snorkels and swam with manatees the other day.

It was a lovely time. If we all had lived in Michigan, Al and I never would have moved to Florida. As it is, we’ll visit them and they’ll visit us. As it is, I have found my place in the world. Just lucky it clicked for Al too. And the kids come here to Florida where most of their grandparents are snowbirds. We all like to travel. Everyone is excited for the new house…they have seen pictures. They missed seeing the real thing by less than a month. Still waiting on the deal to close. I’ll say more then.

I have been so happy. As I’ve said before, it’s always felt like home when I’m in Florida. I thought of it longingly all my years in Michigan. But my children were born and raised in the north and for that matter so was I, thus I didn’t dwell on what I couldn’t have. Palm trees! Sunsets! Flowers full of vibrant color and large as dinner plates! Then, as I got older, it started to seem that maybe after all I would have that dream of my heart. But I could never entirely believe it. It seemed like too much. Yet…the kids had moved far away. Al was cautiously game. We found ourselves making a plan and taking steps. Slowwww steps.

I think I can stop asking him if he’s really sure he wants to live here…because we already are. We found our place in the world. Yes, we had to wait until Al retired…but it is never too late to do what your heart has always longed for.

Am I a Binge Eater?

Things on the new house are in process. It seems like a really long project, changing your life. Meanwhile, anxiety is a frequent visitor, even with the medications I take for the clinical aspects of it: phobia, panic, insomnia, migraine, IBS. I have been to the doctor three times since we got here a few months ago and I’m feeling more or less balanced. Food has been a problem because it soothes anxiety. Especially fast food and junk food are a problem. So my last visit to the doctor was with their dietician. She was going to set me up with an individualized Mediterranean diet that does not, except in very moderate portions, include sugar, dairy, red meat, alcohol, or wheat. No citrus, caffeine, crucirferious or raw veggies. It’s difficult. I just want someone to tell me what to eat and how much and then that’s all I’ll eat.

Things I know I can eat are oats, eggs, nuts, almond milk, almond yogurt, rice, quinoa, chicken, roasted vegetable, peanut butter and jelly plus some fruits. I do eat just these things for a while until I break down and have a donut. Or several. So I decided to call in the troops. I wanted to know why I eat so much when I fall off the healthy eating train. Is this binging or normal? I’m not changing my diet to lose weight, but to settle my tummy issues. I’ve read several books and articles and have many cookbooks too. Am I spoiled to think I need more variety? Or am I a binge eater? Maybe both? I had a feeling part of my problem would require a different kind of doctor, like a therapist of some sort. But I started with the diet doctor.

She came in and said “You’re obese but you are not morbidly obese.” Then she tried to soften the blow “after menopause it’s almost impossible to lose five pounds.” So I’m five pounds from NOT being obese? Before I could ask her, we went through food groups together, the things I can’t eat. Everything she said, I already knew. I was already trying to do. She did say it was fine to have “just a little” of everything. She was talking so fast I was again unable to ask a deeper question: What is “just a little?” I know I do eat more than just a little. I can’t stop once I start on a bag of chips. I could easy eat ten cookies. I really love sweets. Candy bars. For sure plural.

My life was like that for a long time, the stereotypical yo-yo dieter. Then gradually over maybe ten years, the next day I started to feel ill in ways I am not going to describe as I did that before. I know now if I eat bad shit in copious amounts I feel bad. It’s just been getting worse as the years go by. Not my eating but my gut biome. Some days I’m so bloated I cannot zip my jeans. Other days they feel too loose. I didn’t get a chance to tell the doctor that I can gain or lose five pounds in a day or two. The other binge type thing is if I start, I continue for days. Or I used too. Symptoms have gotten so bad I don’t get off the couch the next day. On the positive side, I’ve got some new prescription medication that helps. I really don’t drink much wine these days because wine and Prevalite do not mix well. Also wine causes insomnia. If I do have a little wine and then I’m just a little tired the next day.

Prevalite does not help me to process unhealthy (for me) foods. I was hoping it would. Finally at the end of the long lecture from the diet doc, I asked no questions, like am I am binge eater. Yes, I think I binge. Or binged. I haven’t overeaten since I saw the doctor. I did order a book on Diet and CBT (Cognitive Behavior Therapy, which is really the best type of therapy for changing any ingrained character trait). I’ve practiced CBT with my favorite therapist in Michigan for other issues not related to food. Being human sure is messy. But the other part is at 66 I know how to find help and I never stop trying to heal myself.

These days, most everything is right. Hope to have exciting house news soon, but as Al keeps telling me, it’s not a done deal until the deal is done.

Story Hunting

We’ve been house hunting since we came to Florida. Wow, prices have sky-rocketed. But you probably knew that. It didn’t help us out as St Pete seems to be a new favorite of millionaires. So we ventured south even though my dad says “the further south you go, the more the prices rise.” I don’t know. Sarasota was a little less pricey and the homes were a bit newer. Not new enough. Al wants something built in this century. We’d been looking a couple months when we hit the jackpot. Everything (almost) on our long wish list. Right price. Ditto square footage.

Also, the neighborhood comes with a story. I just finished Vanderbilt by Anderson Cooper and when I looked up the area online I found that the first rich Vanderbilt, first American millionaire in fact, had left a vast fortune to his heirs. His two sons bought a piece of land in Florida and fixed it up as a cattle ranch. They were the last Vanderbilts to add to the fortune of their father without squandering it all. I’m not sure what happened to the cattle ranch but it’s now a lovely little town laid out like Detroit (a wheel) and when someone digs for a new home, you can still smell the cow dung.

I’ve been worrying about Jane. When I move from St Pete, what does Jane do? I have sprung a wealth of ideas from that one question and none of them have to do with changing my website or Jane’s address. This is the first time in a long time my mind is forming book 3 before book 2 is done. This is a good sign. I’m relieved. It’s good to see the shadows of new work down the road. I may even have found a new writing room in which to get it done.

I’ll keep you posted!

State of Mind

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My favorite way to avoid reality is reading. I’ve been doing more of it than ever since Covid came into our lives. Some days, most days, it’s the only thing I do. I should be writing my novel, but I’m…not. Ten pages a month is not a cheery output for me. My head is too cluttered right now and I wonder if it’s my age (66) or the move from the northern part of the country to the southern. During Covid. Which makes a difference.

I miss my friends. It’s hard to make new ones during a pandemic with your head stuck in a book. We had a lot to do when we first got here. Despite the crazy rising costs of houses, our plan was always to move to a house and we are stubbornly sticking to it. Also we are keeping our little St. Pete condo as an investment property because housing costs are not going down any time soon but the stock market just might crash. Another reason to buy a house. We finally got the okay for a pre-approved mortgage, our final piece of business, and called a realtor here in St. Pete. He says he has lots to show us in our $ range with our specific wants/needs.

Then this morning Al showed me a place on the Florida map north of us with newer, nicer houses for half the cost of those we’ve seen in St Pete. (Just to give you an idea, in St. Pete, a condo in a new development with the type of floor plan we want is a million dollars.) We had planned to move about an hour south if we didn’t find something affordable in St. Pete. This is an hour north. On a golf course. Not as close to the beaches, but still on the Gulf side of the state. I said okay, we can go an hour north or an hour south.

There are several reasons to go south instead of north. We have many Michigan friends who winter an hour south of us. We even have a few friends who live year round thereabouts. Then there are our boys. They have more family dotted south of us all the way to Naples, so when they come visit it is convenient. One positive thing about moving north is that it’s cooler in summer. The heat in St Pete did not please Al, and he has yet to golf. He only started walking a few weeks ago. Also, the golf courses seem plentiful in those northern ‘burbs.

My head knows I’ll get the house I want north of here and a happy husband. My heart says “stay put or go south.” Logic says Al is usually right about big moves and we’ll be content to live out our days a bit north, where there are nights when it actually freezes in winter. Freezing temps, or even a slight chance of them, make the news as it doesn’t happen every year. Most days I keep my mind occupied with Regency, England in 1815. I wouldn’t want to live then, but if it’s just in my head, I can pretend they have toilets and running water.

Joy of Zero Income

We are living the story. Freedom from work! Work we sometimes despised. We put in the time, collected our checks, waited until the day retirement arrived so we could focus on work we really loved. For me that’s writing, although it pays way below the cost of living, and dream vacations to Greece cost so much.

We can move to where the weather suits us. If we can afford a house. That’s what all the saving was for when we worked those soul crushing jobs. Al and I did better at saving than most, but when we thought about it, we realized we’d have a hard time buying a home in this crazy market unless we paid cash. Because we’re retired. No income. Well, very little income. This adds all sorts of complications.

We could dip into our savings, but higher income means higher tax bracket. Thus more taxes. Taking money out of 401K also means paying even more taxes as 401Ks (unless they are Roth) are not taxed until you take them out of the market. We thought that was great when we were saving.

Social Security is giving seniors a COLA raise for the first time in forever, but Medicare is raising costs equal to that and they take it right out of your check. If you’re not collecting SS yet, you still have to write Medicare a check.

Last week consisted of crunching numbers with our banker, who is lovely and kind. It was soooo boring. She and Al loved talking finance strategies, me not so much. Now we just have to figure out what we want to do. Which taxes to pay when or if there’s a way people who are not rich can avoid them. (There isn’t.) I learned a lot about money and what it can and cannot do for you in retirement, but I still don’t understand how it is legal for billionaires to have billions of ways to avoid paying taxes. While we in the middle have exactly zero legal means unless we spend zero.

Money is a strange thing. Now this crypto-currency is weirder yet, although I do like the IDEA of minting a trillion dollar coin to pay off our country’s debt. Or is it debt ceiling? Or are we just calling off that whole thing? Sure I’ve learned a lot, but I have way more to figure out. Lucky for me, Al’s hobby is finance. And he’s really good at it.

The Storyteller

I am reading Dave Grohl’s autobiography and it is good. I asked myself in my journal this morning why I would read it. I’m not a Foo Fighters fan. But he was in another band before that…My very first connection to writing came through song lyrics, that’s why I read songwriter’s stories. And while I was getting on in rock years by the time Nirvana came along, I still found new bands, mostly by watching endless MTV. I’d moved on from writing poetry (and song lyrics) by this time but I never forget those early dreams, the first word stories that captivated me. Also, STORYTELLER. What a great title for a rock star to claim.

I finished up my Jane pages for the week and sent them to the critique group. I have no idea how this chapter fits into the scheme of things but I’ll figure it out. I got a new phone and it doesn’t save my photos to JPG anymore but HEIC. Word Press does not upload HEIC yet. I messed around with that for awhile but of course could not convert it so then just used an old picture. Julia is a lot bigger now! The pic I took today was of our living room in the little condo. I wanted to show the two rocking chairs side by side facing the television. I only just realized we are literally in our rocking chairs much of the time. Not necessarily watching TV.

We finally checked off the last of our to-do list before we hire a real estate agent. This is not a good time to buy a house. You might know this. Houses are in short supply and they are super expensive. But the thing is they are not getting cheaper anytime soon. And interest rates are low, so that’s good. We have been here a few months and I really believed I could stay a year if I needed to…but it’s hard. No washer, dryer, dishwasher. Second floor. Small space. I’m a spoiled brat but I’m old and I have been saving my entire adult life for this perfect Florida retirement in my dream ranch house and damn it, we’re going to do it. Also I always believe I can do things that in reality are much more difficult. Like living with my husband in a 1200 sq ft condo with no garage for a year. No! It’s too hard!

Every day something goes wrong. My dad lost his wallet so I ferried him around replacing all his paperwork instead of doing my own. I was glad to be here to help him, even though a car dealer told us it’s legal to drive without a license in Florida. The DMV said it ain’t so. Dad’s squared away now and I’m living on faith. I cannot imagine why WP does not accept HEIC. Soon, maybe. Like everything else in my life right now.

Three’s Company

Al, me and Dad

My dad is only 18 years older than I am and we are the only two of our family who live in Florida. Dad just got home from an extended visit to my mom and brothers in Michigan; Al and I are glad to have him back. It seems natural that I start to think, when I notice he’s not moving so fast these days, “this is me in 18 years.” I’ve always been interested to see how it feels to become older. It is mostly full of surprises, both good and not so great. Dad’s still got his health and his mind is sharp. He drives a cool sports car, lives in a condo a few blocks away that’s a step up from ours. We all love the weather here. My dad’s mother was born here and so was her mother, Mama Q, who lived in Leesburg her whole life. She died at 99, but not before she’d met my sons, her great-great grandsons.

It’s official now: Al and I are Florida residents. We recently received our new driver’s licenses and registered to vote. Dad has been a Florida resident for many years. He’s still married to Mom, they love each other, but they prefer things as they are. She loves the cold; he doesn’t. They are in their 80s but still visit back and forth. I got a text from my brother yesterday Don’t worry about Ma, we’ll take care of her. I knew that. And he knows I’ll help Dad if he needs me. In a way, we all grew up together.

Remember the “sandwich generation”? Caught between their children and their aging parents? Trying to raise kids and take care of Mom and Dad? I could never relate to that. It’s only lately my folks have been slowing down (a little bit) and my boys are both married with little ones of their own. My boys don’t need my help and my folks don’t either. But there is another guy I turn to all the time now that he’s retired…Al.

Since Al retired not quite two years ago, I notice I have become more dependent on him. Not life or death, just open the pickle jar. Watch the finances. Handle the real estate. Even sometimes…wash the dishes. Al is easy to lean on, but I probably do too much of it. He doesn’t complain.

Al and Dad usually golf together but they have not started yet. It’s a bit warm for Al still and Dad’s hip has been bothering him. We did take Dad to his favorite place for a waterside lunch on the Intracoastal after picking him up at the airport. It was getting cold in Michigan. 60 degrees some days! We knew he’d appreciate the heat and the band. It reminds him of better times, when his friends were all alive and they’d party the afternoons away.

I got a tiny sun blush. We all ate local-catch fish. My sandwich-free life may seem odd, our family might look strange, but we are a family and we’re all doing good.

Two Anniversaries

36 years!

September is a very happy month for me. Both my boys were born in September. I married Al in September. And I started my blog in September 2002. It seems like time flew, but if I stop and think about all the memories, well, I’ve lived a wonderful life so far. My boys turned into amazing men, dads themselves now. My husband has mellowed…he loved a party back in the day. Well, he still does, but he doesn’t stay up until 2 a.m. and then get up at 5 a.m. for work anymore. He never stopped loving people and action and still wants to be the last to leave any party. Not that we’ve had many opportunities to party since Covid came along. Al is used to being much busier, even in retirement. Golf, gym, long walks, tickets to concerts and sports events…all that stopped with the virus. He has been to a few baseball games and now that the heat is not so intense he’s back to walking. And I’m back to blogging and my book. Also yoga but it is so much better in a class.

I have been thinking about when to end the blog and next year, at 20 years, sounds like a good stopping point. I’ll keep my website and continue to post, but maybe do a “best of” or maybe a quarterly newsletter — I’ve got a year to figure it out. As much as I’ve adored this blog, I’ve dropped every pearl of wisdom I’ve learned along the way, probably twice. Stats say I’ve published 2,715 posts! Maybe after I read through the many years of blog posts and choose the “best of” I’ll have another non-fiction book. I always wanted to do that, too. A writer’s memoir. I love reading them, and they say to write the book you want to read.

Right now I really want to read Jane 2. Working title: Death on the Bayou. It feels so good to be writing daily again. Yes, even on my wedding anniversary.

Reading Friends’ Work

Detroit Firefighter Frank English

When you’re a writer, especially a published writer, you will be asked questions like “How do I get published?” or “Will you read my manuscript?” all the time. If you don’t know the person well, it’s best to say “no” because down the line (I’ve heard this story often, although it has never happened to me) someone may try to sue you because you stole their idea. But if you have a good friend, and you are like me, of course you’ll say yes. Well, if you’re not really busy at a crucial editing stage of your own book.

I met with my critique group on Saturday for the first time in months and joining a group is a good way to get your work read and receive feedback. This particular group are all mystery novelists, from the Michigan chapter of Sisters in Crime. We’ve been on Zoom since the start of Covid, so that means I can still get together with them to share our work even though I’m in Florida. There is a local chapter here in Florida, but you get used to your peeps. In a writing group, we all know the drill. Praise good things and point out (gently) what does not work for you. Maybe suggest changes if you have an idea of something that might work better.

I have some friends in Florida, also moved from Michigan–and since we are “couple” friends, as well as Lisa and I being close friends for 50 years!–we saw them last night for dinner and lots of talk. A year or two ago, Frank asked me to read some stories he’s written. Since he worked for the Detroit Fire Department for 35 years, and since he is a great storyteller, I said sure. I didn’t know what to expect, but I do know how to let someone down easy. Except…Frank’s book was great. His storytelling voice, the one he uses to entertain us around the dinner table, was in every word. He has a voice, essential but often elusive for a writer.

I told him it was great (he also had tons of photos). There was a natural arrangement to the book, from the first chapter when his buddy came over and said “Hey I hear they’re hiring firemen, wanna apply with me?” to the different squads he worked on through the years, and these were harrowing years when every “Devil’s Night” Detroit would burn, to his later years in upper management. Detroit no longer has a problem with Devil’s Night, in fact they call it “Angel’s Night” as citizens and officials join together to patrol the streets. Yes, Frank knows how to finish with a happy ending. Even for Detroit, which those of us who lived there know is happening, but most people from other states still think of it as “The Murder City” a play on our original name “The Motor City.”

I didn’t know if Frank would ever finish his book. He had a lot of stories to tell. I told him about Wayne State University Press, who have an interest in publishing all things Detroit. I told him his writing was smooth, tinged with humor amid the terrorizing smoke. And all told in his unique style and voice. Whew. I didn’t have to let him down easy! I was telling him the truth when I said he had a great book going and he could really write.

Fast forward to last night. Frank said, “Oh Cindy I want to show you something,” and he left the room only to re-enter with the book shown above. I started reading it again this morning. It’s a beautiful book; he found a good publisher. The photos are gorgeous. Well, not that actual fires where people die are gorgeous, but the details captured by Frank’s friend and fellow firefighter, they catch the dramatic moments so well.

Good luck to Frank as he goes into the marketing phase. And to everybody else out there, yes I am VERY busy right now finishing my second Jane in St Pete book. That’s not even a joke. Covid messed me up and then there was moving and my husband retiring and the two of sharing a tiny condo and him not golfing or going to the gym because it is too hot. My routine of years and years of being alone to write has been disrupted. So really. I need to work if I ever want to get this series rolling.

Story Bible

Finally a new desk. Early in the year I found a used desk with a large flat area I thought would be perfect for this first draft/plotting stage of Jane 2. But the desk broke in half when I tried to move it from one room into another. Broke in half like a candy bar. Then we had to go back to Michigan and sell our house and say goodbye to everyone and just this week I’m getting organized and writing again. The new desk helps. And the chair I bought with the other desk works too. It’s super comfortable.

But before I even got the desk, the first thing I did was re-read Jane in St. Pete and make a series bible. Then I read quickly through the new draft and found the scene sequence want to send to Zoom writers today. I tried to bring it up but between the iffy WiFi and the discontinued Word for Mac software, there were a few technical difficulties. I stopped working for the day. No idea what to do. But I had my bible: all the names, places, history and description I’d need for future books in series reference. I wrote that in soothing longhand.

Next morning, whew the new Mac for Word was in the app store. Sold! It came right up as did all my documents, including Jane.2. We have mercury retrograde later this month and I feel it already. Nothing snaps easily together. Especially electronics. There’s a different cable company here in St Pete from Michigan and while we’ve never had a problem before, this year, going to 5G, we do. So Al worked on that all weekend and finally called the cable guy. He could be here anytime.