August was Once my Favorite Month

When I was a kid, August was a long, long month. Full of time to do whatever I wanted which meant lots of reading and writing. (Yes, I was writing back then.)

We always went on vacation in August too. Usually to Bass Lake where we tent camped--two tents, one for mom and dad and one for me and my sis--swam and went water skiing. I also managed to have a couple of summer romances after I became a teen.

August is my birthday month which also mean a celebration of some sort. My mom was good at planning theme birthday parties, often a lunch with appropriate food and decorations. Only my close friends and female cousins were invited.

Now that I am much, much older August is still full of reading and writing--with an emphasis on the writing. This month it's writing posts for the blogs I'll be on while blog touring in October. Hubby and I don't take long vacations--instead it's a few days here and there, and quite often around some book selling event or a conference.

And that brings me to my birthday. It's a biggie--so big that I can't believe I've actually lived so long. My daughters asked me what I wanted to do--go someplace or what? I considered a trip. Hubby doesn't like to fly anymore and driving in big cities is too darn scary.

My decision, a small get-together at youngest daughter's home (hers is the biggest and in the middle for us and the eldest daughter). She and her hubby are cooking dinner, my favorites. What we'll do I'm not sure, but I suspect it'll be a lot of gabbing. I'm hoping our son will come too--though he sees us all the time--because I'd like to have all my kids together for my birthday.

Change is inevitable--and it seems to happen more often when we get older. Some of it is good, some is harder to accept.

Fortunately, as a writer, my characters continue to do all the things that I can't or don't want to do anymore. My own life might not be so active anymore but the one in my imagination that spills out over the page is still filled with adventure, peril, thrills and chills.

Marilyn aka F.M. Meredith

a partial shot of my table at the Nipomo Library this past Saturday