As someone who loves to write and read ghost stories because of the metaphors they provide about what we can see and not see, about what we can know and not know, and about what is haunting us, I love Halloween. This year Rosie and I dressed up as a prisoner arrested for "disorderly conduct" and the friendly, unarmed police officer who is keeping the streets safe from her thievery--mostly of popcorn and covers.

Now that we are into November, I know many of you are keeping the party going by participating in National Novel Writing Month. I take my (police) hat off to anyone attempting to write 50,000 words in a month. How do you do it? I've heard the key to success is "Don't look back." 

Seems like good advice for those of us trying to get a lot of writing done, and those of us walking up creaking, chilling stairs...

 

Like everything else, Halloween was a little different during our global pandemic, and I was impressed by how inventive and creative people were in finding new ways to celebrate and distribute treats. Some things never change, however. See Rosie the pug, above, my beloved best friend, who hated wearing a costume just as much as she always does. She was an astronaut in her rocket just long enough to seem very skeptical about a life in space with a flimsy spacesuit and no treats, while I snapped a few pictures, and then she was back to unencumbered freedom again--until I will put a Christmas hat on her, that is.

Halloween over, I awoke the next morning with a marvelous feeling: It was Sunday, November 1! I love it when new months fall on Sundays or Mondays, don't you? The entire month seems like it is filled with possibility!

I have so many plans to accomplish: so much teaching and editing this month. I also hope to enjoy some walking in brisk air before it snows, and to read and watch scary books and movies in whatever free time I have! What are your hopes and dreams for a new month that begins on a Sunday?

I've been back from Europe for a couple of weeks now. I was there for two months, and had a fantastic time, living and teaching in Scotland and traveling to Dublin, London, and Prague on the weekends. Being home has been a mix of happiness (I'm home! With my family! And pug! And friends!) and sadness (I miss Scotland and my friends there, too).

But I am so glad that I was home when my beloved dog Rosie got sick. I took her to the emergency veterinarian in Madison and learned that she had bladder stones; the next day she had surgery from our veterinarian here in Baraboo. They removed two very large (walnut size) bladder stones and about 20 small ones. Poor Rosie! But they took very good care of her and now she is resting at home, on the mend.

The experience reminded me how much I love Rosie, how much we humans love our pets. Rosie is sweet, happy, funny, and kind--and she doesn't speak in words. For someone who works with words all day--my own, my college students', other writers', professional writers'--having a companion who communicates in wagging tails and big eyes is a beautiful, comforting balm.

I miss Scotland, I miss Europe. But I am very glad to be home.

I've been back from Europe for a couple of weeks now. I was there for two months, and had a fantastic time, living and teaching in Scotland and traveling to Dublin, London, and Prague on the weekends. (And having very few headaches!--I think due to lack of screen time, though I'd like to think it was the fresh Scottish air...)  Being home has been a mix of happiness (I'm home! With my family! And pug! And friends!) and sadness (I miss Scotland and my friends there, too).

But I am so glad that I was home when my beloved dog Rosie got sick. I took her to the emergency veterinarian in Madison and learned that she had bladder stones; the next day she had surgery from our veterinarian here in Baraboo. They removed two very large (walnut size) bladder stones and about 20 small ones. Poor Rosie! But they took very good care of her and now she is resting at home, on the mend.

The experience reminded me how much I love Rosie, how much we humans love our pets. Rosie is sweet, happy, funny, and kind--and she doesn't speak in words. For someone who works with words all day--my own, my college students', other writers', professional writers'--having a companion who communicates in wagging tails and big eyes is a beautiful, comforting balm.

I miss Scotland, I miss Europe. But I am very glad to be home.