Back in the Saddle

I’ve been here just about three years now. I guess it’s taken me a while to get settled in my old house, bought “as is” (more like “as isn’t” – at the moment, with all my renovations, I have neither a kitchen sink nor a shower. I just remember what my grandmother went through when she moved out to land on McKiernan Creek in the Depression … at least I’ve got working toilets.)

So many ideas to implement. So little energy, at my age, to implement them. But I do things bit by bit. I build my gardens – all sorts of magical herbs and flowers and even a few tomatoes. I raise my doggies – Great Pyrenees. Eleven puppies currently scamper around my back puppy room. My angora rabbits survive the summers. And I do in fact intend to spin their coats. As well as all the Pyr fur that accumulates around the place.

I love it heret. I am so settled and happy, and completely embrace hermit. My “best friends” tend to be the nice ladies at WalMart and the Foodland. After so much crazy life, living here near the river, with long walks in the woods, is exactly how I want to be.

I get back to this silly blog in any case. I am almost ready to launch a second site – greensmithcottage.com – that will showcase my pups and herbs and fiber things for sale. Even got a paypal button! (Like I am ever going to figure out how that works.)

Again, so many ideas. My Colbert County book – after trips out to the Chickasaw Nation in Oklahoma, and down to the Legacy Museum in Montgomery – well, it takes some interesting turns. As devoted as folks are here to history, there’s a lot of history they don’t know. Or at least don’t think about much. Stay tuned. And my other books start kicking me in the middle of the night as well.

At the moment, the eleven Great Pyrenees puppies take up most of my time. Mopping floors. Whipping up mush. Giving baths. Submerging myself in puppy hugs. If you’re local and want a pup, let me know! (Pyrs are the best. Mine take care of me. Lots better than the guns everyone advised me to get when I first moved into this house alone. Can’t kill yourself with a dog.)(Unless you starve them for days and then smear yourself with tuna fish, I guess.)

Back soon, my friends.