Rain, Thunder, and A Plan For Summer Writing

Last night we were smashed by a horrible storm. Rain, hail, and lightning came on us in a flash. Due to the weatherman's prediction that a tornado sat right up the road from us, we all moved to the basement. We heard the road that runs parallel to ours was hit with downed trees. 

We survived. My flowers and grass look better for the chaos. While I sat in the basement, I thought of how different this summer is beginning from last year when we had no rain at all. This led to thinking on the upcoming summer and our plans. I have to be honest here. I'm not a big fan of summer in Georgia. If I had it my way, I'd move away, somewhere north or south, anywhere but here. I always have big plans of gardens, exercise, and day trips outside. It doesn't take long and they go the way of migrating birds. 

The heat and humidity wins out. I retreat into reading a book under the tree just to get fresh air and barricading myself in our air conditioned home. So, last night I promised myself I'd look at this summer realistically. I won't be walking after daylight once the temps hit the nineties. Bike riding will be a joke until the sun goes down. Trips to the lake and the pool will be reward for making it through the work week. My garden will have to fend on its own. The grass will stop growing, stunted by heat, unless we have a rainy summer. And most of all the wonderful expanse of time to write will disappear. 

Now, with this realization came another aha moment. This week while typing an email to a dear friend, I realized an answer to one of my questions had been answered through my own words. I have been seeking the next step in my writing. Most of the readers are aware of my calling to write a memoir. They are also aware how I have fought it tooth and nail. Why? Because I just can't imagine what I have to say about my life that would benefit any person. Ah, but here's the catch. I do have a lot to say if I will only allow my voice to ring out; instead, of attempting to keep it in check. 

So, as the rain beat the windows and I faced the summer ahead, I saw I had to write the memoir. I would have to write the truth and talk about my spiritual side that I keep mostly to myself. In plain words, I would have to call God, God and not be politically correct. What kind of life would we lead if it were all politically correct anyway? My next question was how? When would I get the time during the summer with Daughter home? The answer: She will remind me of how far I've come in this life. In other words, the craziness will keep me grounded. This project will not be easy to complete just like seeing summer as perfect in Georgia is a myth. But I will attempt the work, and I will remain in Atlanta for the summer. Like I have a choice. And before I know it, fall will be here. And maybe, just maybe, I'll have something to show for my efforts.

Ann