I’m going camping tomorrow. I’m packing the puppies and a boy and we’re driving two hours away to eleven acres of green complete with tiny electricity-less shack.
My book has been talking a lot to my brain lately. I recently reformed a few chapters and finally started to compile an ending. I’m looking forward to having the last week of June off to string more pieces together with shades of description and a new face here or there.
Yesterday I learned that in addition to the roof I ordinarily spend time on, I can actually access a second rooftop area that’s 44 stories up. I stood up there staring across Manhattan rooftops last night with the same feeling of, “Holy shit, I can’t believe I actually got myself set up here” feeling that doesn’t leave.
Still, my feet are itchy for something. Something that likely falls into the realm of holiday, book finishing, new plan scripting.
Blah blah blah… for now, all I am interested in is making smores tomorrow. I was quite surprised about my Australian family’s lack of awareness regarding smores – particularly when they have such spectacular barbecues.
I’m looking forward to standing beside a fire and infusing my body with smoky strips. I’ll probably eat a burnt veggie sausage off of a charred tree branch. Peanut and Franky will so happy. And I bet I see stars too. New York City has nearly everything I need, but lacks my one and only non-begotiable requirement aside from puppies…
Stars are critical.