The bathroom has actually gone from disaster to nearly finished with the plummer having plumbed and the painter having painted and my handy husband having been handier than usual what with installing the beadboard walls and the floor.  So staggering downstairs at midnight to pee will soon be a thing of the past. 

I wish I could say the same about my book which has had to take a backseat to the uproar mostly because I've had to continue subbing in order to acquire some funds for the bathroom project.  Of course the best thing to be said about it is that the adventures of my little heroine continue to percolate in the dark miasma of my cluttered brain and that is nothing short of a miracle.  I say that because if you are 69 years old you may often find that you've lost your thought in the time it takes to cross the room in five seconds or less.  Dang, what was it I was going to say?  (And I've actually lost the thought from one sentence to the next!)  See what I mean!  YEESH!

Chessie(my little heroine)says YEESH a lot because her mom does and she wants to be just like mom(I did, didn't you? Unless you wanted to be just like dad!) Chessie is short for Francesca because that's what I wanted to be named instead of Eleisa.  Nobody could pronounce Eleisa, I was Alaysa, Alieza(with a long "i") and mostly Aleesha(where is the "h" in Eleisa, I'd like to know?)so I picked a name out of a hat and called myself Francesca, which I soon found out was pronounced Fransessca, so I was right back where I started. 

Chessie's story came from an earlier picture book which I had written with my third grade of some years back.  We brainstormed a Halloween tale about a plucky troop of trick-or-treaters who found themselves on the porch of a nasty looking witch.  She invited them in for a cauldron of treats and they had to grab one and run.  The littlest, a ghost who was brave enough to go back and ask for a green lollipop instead of a yellow one(and who got both a green one and a yellow one for her trouble)turned out to be Chessie, a child who attributes her bravery to the fact that she was wearing a ghost costume.

Come to think of it I could use that ghost costume right now.  Here comes my husband, "...a blog? You have a BLOG, you don't even like to go to coffee in the mornings and chit-chat and you have a BLOG!"  Well, that took the wind out of my sails, remind me to write only in the am when he's gone for coffee and I have my hour or so of peace and quiet at home alone, so much for my thoughts of the day!