Four-Hundred Little Things

This is my four-hundredth post. I started this blog in 2005, wrote a lot, and then in 2010, stopped writing for three years. Crazy to think I didn’t write for three years, but in hindsight, it was time I wanted to be quiet. I wrote other things instead.

As opposed to the last few days, today I am blissful in my quiet day. I went for a ride, cleaned the kitchen, and will soon wrap gifts. The house is filled with sounds and sights of the holiday, and as my Christmas letter said, all is right with our world.

I’ve decided to finish writing the East Aurora series next. The books are complicated. There are crimes and fugitives, death and sadness. There is also love and joy, and the most wonderful memories a girl can have. The books are not easy to write, there is too much of my childhood in them, sans crimes and fugitives, but the locations . . . East Aurora and Canada Lake . . . are wonderful to visit in my memory, but also bring me to tears because I miss it so much.

I went back to Canada Lake for my fortieth birthday. It was too different. The stuff my memories were made of was no longer there, mainly our camp, my grandparents, and the friends I made each summer out on the lake. I’m not sure I want to go back. If I did, it would have to be with lots and lots of people . . . Susan (Slade) Spanitz keeps saying we should have a Slade family reunion at the lake. That would work. We would create new memories.

And East Aurora . . . the last time I went back I visited cemeteries, and spent a lot of time crying over the people who I longed to see, but were no longer alive. That was tough.

On the other hand, I love these books, and the characters in them. Some are loosely based on real people, or started out that way. And then as the story evolved, so did those characters. None look like the inspiration anymore, but they still remind me of people I love enough to base a character on them.

I may have time to work on them this afternoon, but if not, I will fill my time over the course of the next few weeks writing them. I’m looking forward to it more than I can say.

Here’s to four-hundred posts, contentment and peace . . . a great way to celebrate the end of my fiftieth year.