Yesterday morning while having coffee with my husband our conversation rounded the corner to the last time it snowed in Tucson at our house. Currently we are experiencing a ‘cold snap’ and much snow sits prettily on the Catalina and Rincon mountain ranges. Why wouldn’t snow conversation float over the steaming cups of coffee? At that very moment, I noticed one of our cats sitting on the screen porch, her back to me. Her dark silhouette alluded she was keenly aware of something I could not see. I finally leveled my eyes in one spot and noticed something like ash in the air. Rising from my chair and moving closer, it was snow flurries! We all stepped outside.
If you are following our blog, you will see that our book has been accepted and included in the upcoming Festival of Books! This is a great pleasure and privilege. Attending this event will create numerous lists for presentation, coordination, what to wear and what jewelry to match. I say that because Jackie loves her jewelry of all sorts and chooses all in great taste. When we traveled to Steamboat Springs to a writing conference, in June 2003 (story can be read in Chapter 3), her biggest piece of luggage was her jewelry case. Her laptop was second. I relentlessly ribbed her of this treasure chest. While on breaks in the afternoons to work on stories, I would stand up to stretch and find myself aimlessly staring at this collection jumbled into her case and think she must have packed in a flurry.
Flurries come in many shapes, sizes, movement, and thought. Mine now is of course the Festival, Jackie’s arrival, and plans for the three of us to buzz about and present ourselves to a very large audience. I am anal enough that I want my compartments to be in order, and ready to fly as planned. But if a flurry comes along, I will step out and enjoy…stayed tuned.