With Sky getting sick, though, with certain people--who are close to me--not being supportive of my writing . . . things have gotten tough. I won't give up even if I do need to slow down.
Being a mother of four is busy, and as you all know, my kids need to come first. Plus, doing all of this career stuff, well, it's like trying to be Wonder Woman--and I learned while skydiving, I suck at flying. So, I'm going to take off my cape. According to many, capes can be quite dangerous anyway.
I'll just be posting every Wednesday for the next while. Fishducky has generously offered to post every Monday and Friday while I'm slowing down.
So, back to the Hippie . . .
The doctors still don't know exactly what's going on with her. We really do appreciate your prayers. Melynda called yesterday and said her family was praying--in French! The Hippie thought that was awesome. (Remember when she was thrilled with Altoids since they're made in Great Britain.) And later she even told me, "Someday I'll go to France because the people there already like me."
We were at the hospital for a while again yesterday. She's had so many blood tests. We finally got bored in the waiting room and so I pulled out an advance copy of my next book The Best of EC Writes, and started reading it to the Hippie. For you to see how funny this was, I need to show you the front and back cover:
Yes, the following picture is of me on the toilet again.
Read that story HERE
Well, I read a very silly chapter to the Hippie. It was about how I bought a planter barrel. I grabbed it at the entrance and when some old man yelled, thinking I stole it, instead of politely telling him I'd paid, I started running. Still . . . I don't know why I ran, but it WAS hilarious. Anyway, some of the people in the waiting room looked at me as I read. A couple of them snickered quietly. That's when I noticed a fancy woman staring at the cover of my book.
"You know," she whispered to the girl next to her. "The cover looks like the woman who's reading the book."
I knew they looked at me and then the cover. Then the young girl said, "Oh my gosh! Is that YOU . . . on a toilet?"
"Shhh." her mother said. "Of course that isn't her . . . on a toilet. No one reads a book with their own picture on the cover."
I cleared my throat. "Actually, it is. I'm checking it for typos. It's the final proof copy."
"Are you kidding, can I look?" she asked.
"Sure," I said. And by this point, the Hippie seemed a bit amused. I hoped the whole situation took her mind from the pain.
The lady opened the book, read for a long time, went from red to pale. She laughed so hard at one point, wiped the tears from her eyes and gave it back. "I have to buy that."
"What story did you read?" I asked, clutching to her words. It must have been the best story in the whole book!
"Oh, just about the time you got The Clap."
Then MY face went red. Of all the stupid stories--why had she read that one!
"I'm gonna be laughing about your book all day."
"Mama," the Hippie said later, "what's The Clap?"
"I just found out last year. Trust me, you do not want to know! Like Uncle Shane said, no one ever told me about The Clap's true meaning. They said the less I knew about it, the less chance I'd have of getting it."
The Hippie just looked confused.
"Never mind, I'll tell you when you're older."
"Not that again. Mama, people are praying for me in French! Can't you tell me grown-up things now?"
"No, Honey. Not until people are praying for you in Italian."
If you'd like to find out what I thought The Clap was, please go HERE
I'll be back next Wednesday.