God help me, I’ve joined the ranks with Bree, Susan, Lanette and Gabrielle. I’m a desperate housewife. I’m also a writer, but hey, those (fictitious) women have other things to occupy them too. The trouble is, see, my neighborhood isn’t as interactive as Wisteria Lane. Not anywhere near it and I live at the back of a cul-de-sac bordered on the backside by woods.
Day after day I sit at my computer and talk to my two cats and the dog while DH works in town. Oh, I feed the pets, cook and clean up and do laundry–even occasionally vacuum, dust and swish out the bathrooms. When prodded, I’ll even venture into the great outdoors for a little yardwork, pulling weeds, planting, that sort of thing.
My big outing during the month is a GRW meeting. We talk writing – go figure – speaking of our characters like they’re flesh and blood people. Weekly I have an in-person critique meeting. You got it – more writing talk. I occasionally get out for other reasons, the usual trek to the post office, vet, doctor, grocery store and book store, but I’m usually on a mission and hurry back to work on whatever character is nudging me that day.
But I hadn’t realized how isolated I’d become at times or how narrow my scope of conversation had become until (in a recent conversation with my kids) my daughter started laughing, saying she could tell when I was lonesome because my conversations centered on what the pets had done in detail that day. How cute the cats look curled up in their napping places or how many times Beau caught the ball. Blech! Somebody help me! I need new material. There has to be more to my life.
Oh! I’ve got it. I recently posted a picture of DH and I on the Gallery page of my website. Check it out, along with my darling pets and the kids.
I gotta get out more.
CAROL BURNSIDE / ANNIE RAYBURN 