Bryn Athyn Cathedral - My novel is ALMOST published BUT - Short Story Flubs at Willow Writers' Group

I discovered "Lippy Kids" by the Brit band Elbow. Listen to it here.

I'm also a member of the band, but I was late for the photo shoot.

Worked on my new short story "Leaving Alma" about an old man, Nelson O'Reilly, who decides to leave his wife Alma.

Everywhere I've ever been in the Philadelphia area comes into play in my stories. In this one, there's a Dunkin' Donuts in the Fox Chase section of Philadelphia. When I used to go there, old friends used to meet and chat at a table. I go there when I drive my friend Rosemary to her hairdresser.

Yesterday in the blistering heat Scott and I went on a bike ride at the spectacular Lorimer Park in Abington Township. 



Oh look! Here I am with Bart Dougherty on one of our Sunday Hikes. See the huge boulders?

Scott's on vaca from SEPTA for a week. He loves to just relax and do nothing. Doesn't have to catch the 8:19 pm train, one in a series of links that takes him to 69th Street, where he works. 

As Scott and I rode our bikes, in our helmets - what I needed were knee pads, just in case - along the blacktop, we marveled that we were riding on former train tracks.

"Weren't you hot?" asked Ada and my sister Donna.

We went before noon and we created a breeze as we rode along.

Today Scott and I visited the beautiful Bryn Athyn Cathedral.

 Whatever the above plant is.... I want it!

 Is this new? I never noticed it before.

 A simple rock where birds can stop.

 Look at those lovely fluffy clouds.

 Scott and I climbed up the steep hill, the same hill that Sarah and Dan used to roll down or run down.

 I wore a stifling-hot cap and will never do so again. Took a selfie showing my proboscis sniffing a delicious-smelling rose.

And the light said GO, but not before I took a shot of the college campus across the street and the library off to the right with the azure-blue roof.

*

I finished my novel four years ago and have had hundreds of rejections, so when the Back Rose Press said they would publish me, I was ecstatic!

Fortunately my daughter Sarah apprised me of the unusual contract. You must pay for your books to be published. That's called a Vanity Press or self-publishing your book.

When I wrote that to the editor Reagan someone, a man, he wrote me back saying they are not a vanity press, but in language where he seemed to be yelling at me.

But it's all forgotten now, b/c there are so many other things to think about.

  Who knows what this is? It's a fallen robin's egg sitting in my garden with a dead fetus inside. People are picketing outside: Murderer! Murderer!

I swear I'm not responsible. It was simply there one morning. I can't wait to show it to


my grandson Max AND


big sister Grace.

*

You can check nearly anything out of the library except for unusual items like the 1927 silent movie Napoleon. 



Finally after waiting an entire year, I picked up Season Two of Homeland.

Be prepared, says sister Donna, to be disappointed.

We shall see.

Will watch it at Scott's but I never go over until it's dark outside. See me now? Sitting on my red couch by the open screen door, being inside and outside too.