I mean, sure, it's been busy around here. I've been working on PEPPERMINT TWISTED, the third book in the candy shop mystery series, and when the work is going well (which, thankfully, it is) the days seem to fly by.
Because the book is set around Paradise's Arts Festival, I decided to spend a day at a local arts festival over Labor Day weekend. I had a lot of fun, but I wish I'd had a whole lot more money with me since I found way too many things I wanted to bring home with me. I did buy one picture for myself and one for my oldest daughter, who went with me, but I managed to refrain from buying everything that caught my eye.
After the Arts Festival, we stopped by an antique store. I haven't done a lot of antiquing in my life, but I think it's something I could acquire a taste for all too easily. I guess I also lost track of time because I had another critique weekend with my critique partners, I gave a speech to a local writing group, and it was my birthday last week. I turned 38. Again.
If you don't believe me, ask my kids. The birthday cake they made me even said so. And no, I'm not going to tell you how many times I've turned 38 already. That's not the point. The point is . . . well, there is no point, I guess. Or if there was one, I've forgotten it. Maybe that's what happens when you turn 38 too many times.
When I was younger, my mother warned me that time moved faster when you were an adult, and she's right. It seems like this Blink-And-Two-Weeks-Are-Gone thing is happening to me more often than it used to. Remember when it used to take a decade or two for your birthday to roll around every year? Remember when you wanted your birthday to roll around? When you wished years away as you ached to be old enough to drive, to vote, to drink, to move out? And then, all of a sudden, without any warning at all, you can't put on the brakes hard enough to stop the year from passing. I mean, it's already September 14th. Another minute and a half, and October will be here.
And speaking of time . . . it's already 10:30 and I haven't written a word so far this morning. Since I told my editor I'd try very hard to get PEPPERMINT TWISTED to her by October 15th, I'd better stop blogging and get to work. I've only got about 5 minutes before my deadline.