It’s snowing and blowing here this morning. Should make for interesting walking/driving out there. Yesterday, it poured rain all day and then in the evening it changed to freezing rain. I don’t know what time it started to snow, only that it was doing it when I got up about 6:00 to put the alarm dog out. Every now and then, it blows so hard I can barely see across the street.
After much procrastinating and finding other tasks that needed attention… laundry, unloading & reloading the dishwasher, farting about on Facebook, I managed to write 1072 words in my manuscript. So not a totally wasted day.
Will go back to the kitchen shortly and turn the spaghetti sauce back on, preheat the oven for the garlic bread and start the water for the pasta. Yum yum! S’getti and meatballs.
I’ve got a pot of spaghetti sauce on. It was completely made by 8:30 this morning. It’s smelling really good about now and is making me hungry.
I’m back home from having my nails are done and they look fantastic. First of many loads of laundry in the wash machine.
Hoping to have at least one productive day on the writing front this weekend since I did absolutely nothing yesterday and tomorrow will be a busy day. So here’s hoping today turns out to be as productive as I’m hoping for.
Well since getting home from work and finding where I left off last night, I’ve managed to add 317 words to my manuscript. Not a lot but at least still moving in the right direction.
Off to grab a bite to eat and we’ll see what happens after that. Maybe just a bit of thought percolating.
Accomplished absolutely nothing on the writing from last night. I did print the two 250 word pieces that I wrote so my husband could read them. I answered some e-mails and that was about it.
Even though yesterday went well at work, the brain was still fried. Hopefully, tonight I’ll be feeling more relaxed and I will be able to let the good writing vibes get from my brain to my fingers to the keyboard and the hard drive on my laptop.
We’ll see what happens.
Continued with last night’s writing and came up with another 250 words related to a photo but in this case I used two. The piece I wrote needed the second one to ensure continuity… or closure… whichever you prefer.
And not on my manuscript. I decided to get the 250 word prompt for our next writers meeting done sooner than later since I’m hoping to be at a writing workshop in Brampton that weekend. Mind you, that will be entirely up to Mother Nature.
Not nearly as prolific as Saturday but then I didn’t get settled down to write until the afternoon. Still ended with 93198 words which translated into an increase of 272.
I posted a photo of my grandfather and his first wife that was taken presumably on their wedding day a few years ago. I’m reposting it along with two more from the family archives.
This photo was definitely taken in a studio setting and judging by their clothing and the way her hair is styled, it had to be a special occasion. Hence, the thought of it being a wedding photograph.
Grandpa Robertson was born in 1856 and married for the first time 20 years later. And yes, that is my grandfather, not great-grandfather or great-great-grandfather.
After looking carefully at the photo for a few minutes, close your eyes and imagine it in full colour, an oil painting of huge proportions… 3 ft by 5 ft or even bigger 4 ft by 6 ft and it’s hanging on a rich oak panelled wall. Can you visualize it in that setting?
That’s where it is in my novel. This is the Laird and Lady of Weetshill on their wedding day. Now, the heroine (Sarah) looks very much like the young woman in the portrait. The hero resembles the young man.
In my novel, the old Laird looks much more like this…
This photograph of an older Grandpa Robertson was taken some time before his death in 1930. I’m thinking maybe between 1915 (the year my grandmother-his second wife) and 1917 (the year my father and four of his nine siblings were admitted to The Orphan Homes of Scotland). By that time, he’d had a stroke with loss of memory and was unable to keep up the farm.
This is how I envision the hero’s grandfather. White-haired, balding, mustache and beard.
The old Laird in my novel also walks with a cane.
And finally this photograph from the archives…
This photo was taken on Angus’s wedding day in Scotland. My father (Robert) was serving overseas with the Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders at the time but was able to get leave to go back to Scotland for the occasion. It would have been the last time my father saw his brothers.
Now there’s no mistaking the men in this photo are related but look closely at the young man in the first photo, the old man in the second one and lastly (mostly Robert) the men in this photo. Perhaps, a natural progression of how my hero will age?