Sanna's Bag

“I never seem to have what I need when I need it. I’m going to make a belt-bag that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, and just carry everything with me.”

Monday, January 17, 2011

mixed bag

In the mundane world, I had to take a flat tire to the shop for a repair.  While there, I unlimbered my laptop and carried on with the final re-write of the fourth and final Sanna novel.  This is magic, you know - carrying several entire books and a complete mail system in a pad small enough to tuck into a lady's bag,

The re-write wound up just about the time the repair was finished.  One tire had picked up a screw AND a nail.  When did I drive through a construction zone?  With all the work going on inside my head, I frequently need to remind myself to be here now.  I drove to the tire shop on auto-pilot.  Not a good thing to do.

As for the room in my head, the kitties are exploring and adventuring all over the dark corners, and vermin are running for their lives.  The extra lights are a big help.  Under the table are crammed boxes full of food:  Jello powder that has set up brick hard over the years;  Pickled quail eggs with the brine gone opaquely murky; Australian canned mutton left over from WWII.  Food is what Mom was all about.  She believed it was her job  to feed her family and friends, and it was the job of her friends and family to eat.  No wonder I have trouble keeping weight off.  I'm good at my job.

All the old food and old rules about it goes out the window.

 The next dust-sheeted mound turns out to be a Victorian era settee with gold brocade upholstery, just like mother loved.  I wouldn't have it in my house because all those carved and fretted bits of woodwork are a bitch to keep dusted, and the brocade shows marks if you even sit on it.  The seat is piled high with more mysterious boxes, and peculiar bundles are shoved underneath.  Linda, -  Amy, you guys would love each other.  Would you be willing to come help me with this?

5 Comments:

  • At 12:13 AM , Blogger Rose Lefebvre said...

    THOSE OLD SETTEES ARE WONDERFUL!
    I WAS SUPPOSED TO INHERIT ONE, BUT THAT DID NOT COME TO BE! IT HAD PINK SATEEN CLOTH. SIGH

     
  • At 5:07 AM , Blogger KnitTech said...

    Nice timing on the re-write. How many more do you need to do?

     
  • At 6:33 AM , Blogger Heide said...

    I treasure the Sanna books. For the life of me, I can't understand why Scholastic, or some other major publisher, hasn't snatched those up. My only guess is that with the astronomical numbers of crappy manuscripts they receive that the true gems are buried.

    I admire your ability to delve into the twilighted recesses of your past. Personally, I shall keep my demons locked away... and maybe add another deadbolt. My girls need a functioning mother at this point and I doubt I'd remain ambilatory if I dredged up the ghosts haunting my attic. Isn't it funny how we go through life presenting "normal" facades while never truly escaping our pasts? I admire your courage.

     
  • At 10:57 AM , Anonymous Benita said...

    You wrote a book? Freakin' awesome cool!!! I wanna read it!!!

     
  • At 11:08 PM , Blogger Amy Lane said...

    Yeah-- the brocade couch needs to be donated to Green's Hill-- the sprites love that sort of thing, and he has an entire room for them to, uhm, frolic. And to clean. It could be magic, there, when in your room, it's frustrating and irritating, you think?

     

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