the World of Webmistress Ming

I woke this morning to a quote from A.A. Milne's book, "The House at Pooh Corner":

Now it happened that Kanga had felt rather motherly that morning, and Wanting to Count Things--like Roo's vests, and how many pieces of soap there were left, and the two clean spots in Tigger's feeder; so she had sent them out with a packet of watercress sandwiches for Roo and a packet of extract-of-malt sandwiches for Tigger, to have a nice long morning in the Forest not getting into mischief.

Ming's made it into the new century: I'm now active on both Twitter and Facebook.

Twitter was for business. Facebook is on account of family.

In brief, rumblings from the relatives in Reno (in the direction of my grandchildren, no less) mean that I need to be "out" out there.

So find me on Twitter and on Facebook as username cynthiaewer

Despite the very low signal-to-noise ratio of this means of communication, I want them all to know that I Am Watching.

Such a long, strange winter it's been.

Holiday-season travel, I've decided, is like everything else that happens that time of year: far more disruptive and involved than if you'd simply nipped off on a cruise in March or September.

Between getting ready to go (while cramming all holiday chores and most holiday celebrations into the same timeframe) and coming back (to add "take down decorations" to the laundry mountain and the work catch-up), it's more akin to moving than it is to vacation.

I came so, so close to ditching this blog. Just opening the database and letting the bytes blow off into the wind.

It wasn't so much a reasoned decision, as simple inertia. Having blog entries become the center of a distressing conflict with a friend took the heart right out of me; Q4 madness multiplied by a holiday-season vacation blew poor Ming's Blog off the front burner.

Friday morning at dawn, I will roar out of town on a 2700-mile, two-week solo driving trip, so what is Ming doing today?

Packing. And I am NOT packing light.

The trip will include a stay at a St. George, Utah, health spa (and temps are in the 101-degree range there all week), visits with relatives in Arizona, a side trip (maybe) to meet with a prospective literary agent (about whom I have great, GREAT vibes), another family visit in San Jose, and a final stint (yes, please) in my beloved Mt. Shasta retreat center.

I plan to enjoy myself.

Today, I am thankful.

Eyes are "stable". Whatever was growing in the blind spot a year ago looks like testing variation. I still have to be followed, but with no new change, we can stick with the original diagnosis: just a quirk of anatomy.

I can't say I feel reborn--both eyes still feel as if they were sanded. Funny, too, that I'll have to have a passport photo taken today, and with all the swelling, it will match what I look like post-air travel quite nicely.

It's going to be a vulnerable week, and the day is Thursday.

Simply put, my ears have already checked out. On Thursday, I find out whether my eyes have decided to follow them.

It's a diagnostic mystery. Three years ago, I had a single, unexplained episode of visual blurring. My eyes were poked, prodded, dilated, lasered and examined ... and the process found an area of blindness that was symmetrical to both eyes in my peripheral vision.

Such a month, and all of it a whirl.

Work nonstop, then switch gears to play Mom-cum-Nana for a 10-day visit with my son, daughter-in-law and grandsons.

Dive from that overextended state into a week of solitude ("Ahhhhh") as husband takes a week in Vegas to play poker.

Come up for air--and husband--only to find that my dysfunctional publisher DOES TOO want a new book from me.

In record time, as in 190,000 words in six months.

It's been like pulling teeth to find the time, but it's done (enough for government work):

My new studio is finally out of the "packing crate" stage.

Today at 4:45 p.m., I made a late-afternoon run to the hardware store for the last piece of the installation puzzle. Between the "Simply Shabby Chic" balloon shades and the newly-installed window air conditioner, I realized that what I'd created was ...

A Hot-Flash Haven.

Yes, despite our central air conditioning, there is a just-installed-today window unit pumping COLD air into a room that is surprisingly "girly".

This afternoon, I had a heavenly privilege: I was present when two of our community's "talented" youth were given a stage to strut their stuff to support the local opera.

It was the oh-so-familiar pitch to people like me. Prestige address, gourmet snacks, pretty view, talented youth ... and the whole gestalt is there to prompt me to "support our local opera society."

Never fear. I did my bit for the local opera company. Before I left, they had my name and phone number, and my promise to build them a cutting-edge web site;