It's a holiday weekend and it is very quiet here at our house. A little further down the road in St. Michaels proper it is a beehive of tourist activity. The joggers are out and people are strolling the picturesque streets enjoying the sights of the town with its Victorian and 18th. century houses. The main street is humming with vehicles carrying late arrivals or people on their way to their boats. The waterways are busy.
But with A Circle of Dreams due out shortly the work of the self publisher never stops. We are humming along on proofing the book to get it out on Tuesday.
Not far away is Rt. 50 which is the main route to the Atlantic shore. That means really heavy traffic with people going and coming to the beaches. They are having a glorious weekend with highs in the mid 70s. That is, after they get there.
My twisted little brain is thinking we should bedevil them on Monday as they return. We could take lawn chairs and sit by the highway smiling, waving and showing a sign which says "We live here." But maybe that would not be a good idea. Maybe we don't want them to know about our oasis of peace and quiet community.
We used to live in a quiet valley in Northern Maryland. Nothing EVER happened there but also there was not anything to do. When I moved to Maryland many years ago Baltimore was that old town you passed if you were driving from New York to DC. My first wife wanted horses and we could live in the country but be downtown in 45 minutes. Gradually it all changed as Baltimore and DC grew together. The population of Baltimore proper shrank but the population of the area exploded. We came to have California traffic.
So, we decided to cross the Bay Bridge and live on the Eastern Shore. Crossing the bridge is an experience we call "the mystical passage" because we leave the intensity of the national capital area behind and enter a county of just 35,000 folks. I probably shouldn't even be writing about this because we should keep our rural yet sophisticated gentility a secret. It's only an hour and a quarter to DC which some people think is commuting distance.
We can write in peace but have access to wonderful restaurants and even great music at the Avalon Theater in Easton. I guess I'll just stay away from Route 50 this weekend and enjoy a final read of the adventures of Jamie and her family as they make their way through A Circle of Dreams. And then it is on to the third book, Joup!
People ask how I am enjoying my retirement. Is that what this is? I think we need some new words for our continually changing careers.
But with A Circle of Dreams due out shortly the work of the self publisher never stops. We are humming along on proofing the book to get it out on Tuesday.
Not far away is Rt. 50 which is the main route to the Atlantic shore. That means really heavy traffic with people going and coming to the beaches. They are having a glorious weekend with highs in the mid 70s. That is, after they get there.
My twisted little brain is thinking we should bedevil them on Monday as they return. We could take lawn chairs and sit by the highway smiling, waving and showing a sign which says "We live here." But maybe that would not be a good idea. Maybe we don't want them to know about our oasis of peace and quiet community.
We used to live in a quiet valley in Northern Maryland. Nothing EVER happened there but also there was not anything to do. When I moved to Maryland many years ago Baltimore was that old town you passed if you were driving from New York to DC. My first wife wanted horses and we could live in the country but be downtown in 45 minutes. Gradually it all changed as Baltimore and DC grew together. The population of Baltimore proper shrank but the population of the area exploded. We came to have California traffic.
So, we decided to cross the Bay Bridge and live on the Eastern Shore. Crossing the bridge is an experience we call "the mystical passage" because we leave the intensity of the national capital area behind and enter a county of just 35,000 folks. I probably shouldn't even be writing about this because we should keep our rural yet sophisticated gentility a secret. It's only an hour and a quarter to DC which some people think is commuting distance.
We can write in peace but have access to wonderful restaurants and even great music at the Avalon Theater in Easton. I guess I'll just stay away from Route 50 this weekend and enjoy a final read of the adventures of Jamie and her family as they make their way through A Circle of Dreams. And then it is on to the third book, Joup!
People ask how I am enjoying my retirement. Is that what this is? I think we need some new words for our continually changing careers.
posted by Roger | 9:48 AM
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