Writing Day

The Garage is a mess. Blackberry vines thick as my thumb have pushed between fence boards. Fishing tackle is still in the truck. Piles of paper everywhere in my office. Yesterday I was in Grafton. Well, my head was there. As was my heart. The entire day was spent with Grandpa George Washington Gibson, his wives Mary and Ann, and all the kids. We had a great time.
Wasn't much time for swapping stories this time, however. The Gibsons had a lot on their "to-do list", so I tried to make a polite exit and return home. "My wife has a lot of things for me to do at home, so, the visit was nice...I have to go now." George put his arm around me and "lead" me outside. Dixie sun is warm, even at 9am. "Rod, glad to see ya, boy. 'Been meanin' to talk with you." "You've been writin' about planting crops and building houses, but you don't have a firm grasp of how tough it is here. The other day you fenced in my property in a matter of hours. It took me and my boys three days to build that rock caisson and pole fence." I thought about that. "Grandpa, If I make time pass too slowly, I'm afraid the novel will drag." "Find a happy medium, boy", George counseled. "That's why I want you to stay awhile, to try to get an idea of what it's like in real time." "OK Gramps, I need to run home real quick and clear my day....be right back." I said, with my fingers crossed.

"Merry, let's organize our day, OK?" I checked my wife's face for her mood. She worked hard all day Saturday while I was out fishing with a friend from dawn to dusk. But that's another story. Intuitively, I knew she wanted to continue today, Monday, what she had started Saturday. Sunday was a beautiful day, sunny and full of the Spirit, but it also served to give Merry her second wind to attack the "to-do list" anew on Monday. I started the conversation....felt it best to get my request out as I checked her expression, breathing rate, and body language. I've got pretty good reflexes, but still positioned myself at a safe distance. "First, I appreciate how you didn't give me a hard time when I came in from fishing, said "How was your day?", took off my shoes, and collapsed in our bed and slept for three hours. And the bed wasn't out in the street when I woke up." "Your welcome", Mary said. Her face was tightening juuuuust a bit. " I did notice you jumped right in and helped after your nap. That was very nice. In fact, if you hadn't....." I felt this was a good time to interrupt her....this time. "I just wanted to show you I wasn't being lazy, I was just exhausted." I relaxed a bit. "Let me tell you, though. Rowing that pontoon boat against the wind most of the day...that lake was a mile across and two miles long....and the....." "Aren't we trying to plan out the day here?" Her face was tightening up juuuuust a bit. "Merry, I want to spend the day in Grafton." I continued, trying not to hesitate and leave her a chance to stop me before I got it all out. "I have been doing everything on earth BUT writing lately. It's been two weeks since I spent any real time on the novel, and I'm about to go crazy. I'm actually feeling stressed and depressed from NOT writing." She has always voiced support and encouragement for this novel. I felt I had a real chance here. " I spend the day today writing and then on Tuesday, I'll work hard on what you want done." By the way, it's now Tuesday and I'm writing on this blog and not doing the promised work. I'm NOT writing though....I'm writing about writing....right? That should be OK? Besides she's still in bed. I didn't get home from Grafton last night until about 3am and she was waiting up for me. But she'll probably get up pretty soon. I'm typing as fast as I can here. She loves the effect this novel has had on me. Even this thick head has noticed some changes. She says I'm happier, and the fact that I'm excited about my ancestors and about this project is amazing and just makes her feel good.

As far as taking the day off and traveling to Grafton, she could tell I was sincere, and, above all, she trusted me that I was sincere. So, I got to spend the day in Grafton with the family. I took my laptop and research notes with me. We spent the day putting in corn, wheat, and sorghum cane. We whizzed through building a living fence of cottonwood shoots along the property's eastern border that will grow quickly to form a windbreak and a barrier unpenetrable to all the livestock except that old ox that knows no boundaries and has never seen a fence he's needed to respect. At the end of the day, Grandpa and I rested on the porch, him in his rocking chair that NO ONE else sits in, and me on the front step.

"I'm a lot older than you, Rod, but I'm...in a lot better shape than you. Do something about that, will ya? What year do you have me in today? 1863? I'll be 63 in a few days, June 11. And you're only 57? Wow. And don't forget my birthday, bub.

"As far as your writing, in order to understand any part of what I'm going through, you have to try to put yourself in my shoes. Try to feel what I felt."

"Get into the yardwork, feel the pain and multiply it by 100%."

"Get good and tired and multiply that by 100%."

"Feel the sun on your back and intesify that heat by 100%."

"Those piles in your office? They can wait."

I spent the day with Grandpa Gibson and at the end, I was exhausted. But what a satisfying day. I still smile just thinking about it. I accomplished so much. "Grandpa, that satisfaction you feel after a long, hot, dry, dusty, Dixie day? I feel that satisfaction after spending the day with you....and multiply that by 100%.