Many of my readers already know I’m a military wife and after being stationed in North Carolina for some years and staying deployed for almost as many years, my husband received orders a few months back and this summer we made the move from the east coast to the west. He’s officially working at a reserve center in downtown Portland, Oregon, but we’ve made our new temporary home in Vancouver, Washington just across the Columbia River (which boasts some pretty fine salmon fishing—hubby brought home a 20 pounder recently. Yummy!).
Somewhere between Marinetown, USA and the City of Roses, we were on the road for several days, my muses decided they hated the nomadic life and ran for the hills, or some mountains or other as we crossed several ranges on our trek. Then it was several more days before we located a house suitable and within our rent budget and finally official moving in day arrived. And much to my southern heart’s dismay, we discovered several of our most prized possessions had been literally destroyed in transit. One such item being my beloved desk. To say I was steamed is an understatement.
A desk to a writer is a very personal piece of furniture. It must be the appropriate height, the right width, have the correct amount of drawer space and an accessible to her stature keyboard tray. My desk had been perfect on all counts and it now lay in pieces in my garage awaiting review from the blessed insurance adjustor. (I made several frowny faces during this process, needless to say.)
Initially I set up shop on my husband’s manly desk only to find it was neither writer friendly nor short, squatty female friendly and my back was soon killing me. I moved to the kitchen table where I sat with a cramp in my neck for weeks on end waiting on the insurance adjustor and not doing a lick of writing because this turn of events further frightened my muses who in short order told me to kiss their tiny hinies. Two weeks ago, a miraculous thing occurred—the insurance check showed up! And guess what? I still hadn’t found a desk to suite my needs. I’d touched, sat at, and tested so many I think the sales clerks at several stores in the area were sick of seeing me (actually that’s an understatement, I’m pretty sure a few of them learned my vehicle and when they saw it pulling in their lot they hid in the back).
Tired, frustrated, and near the line of giving up, curling into a ball, and pulling my lips—I found my desk! Literally. I mean I found a near replica of the desk which had been destroyed in transit. I rejoiced! I danced! I dragged it home and my husband, much to his credit, spent an entire afternoon assembling it with me over his shoulder with the directions the entire way. God bless the man, it must be love or else he’d have called the lawyers by now.
The next day I spent the day cleaning my office. I put all my things in the right drawers, found my water sprite and set her in the exact spot that’s always been hers, I bought a new wax tart warmer and filled it with my favorite scent—autumn wreath, and my rhinoceros is now once again sitting on the top edge of my gigantic monitor (thank God! I have it back, my eyes were about ready to tell me to kiss their hind-end, too).
I sat down…the muses were still skeptical.
I tapped my fingers, pulled my hair, and called my graphics guy.
New house, new state…I needed new everything. After redesigning my website and dragging out an old manuscript to “freshen up” and start the girls out slow, I am happy to say we’ve been pounding out words since.
Please come by and check out my newly designed website HERE where you can earmark my blog and find all my current releases, the most recent of which is Steele Clips: A Compromising Position which debuted September 17 and is available at Amazon and ARe.
Thanks for sharing a part of your day with me!