Two weeks ago on Tuesday, my husband, our daughter, son-in-law, and I crawled in the car and drove up to the Blue Ridge Parkway. (The picture is the view from our lodge room.) We were headed for several days of hiking, touring, eating spectacular lodge food. It was going to be a spectacular time of refreshment and refueling. The order of the day were walks around the lake, hiking up and down the mountain slopes, possibly to the Top of the Peak, revisiting old cabins and farms built in the 1800’s, and laughing and sharing with our kids. I was looking forward to every shared moment, and to a few days away from writing to “empty out” and “refuel up” so that I could continue writing on my current novel, From Grace Abounds Grace.
What actually transpired bore no resemblance to my built-up dream of that time.
We arrived at the lodge Tuesday afternoon. We had barely arrived when our son-in-law began one of his coughing fits (comes with his health condition). It was so severe that the man in the room adjacent to our kids asked to be removed to another room in another lodge building.
If the above weren’t enough, right after dinner Tuesday evening, our son-in-law went back to their room, crawled into bed, and never ate again or got up until we left on Thursday. He was sooo sick. Of course, that took all the joy out of the vacation for our daughter, who sort of gave of up and laid down, doing nothing more than watching tv and staying close to her husband.
Daniel and I tried to carry on by taking a couple of walks, but the little fun vacation had lost its zest. No sooner had we driven home when our daughter claimed the same symptoms as her husband and into bed she crawled for a couple of days.
By Friday night, my poor husband was sick as a dog, also crawling into bed, and I followed him the next day. We were in bed for a week. My Honey couldn’t do anything, nor could I. Writing was the furthest thing from my mind. I couldn’t eat, my sleeping was fitful, and we both generally felt wretch. In the week in bed, I lost 5.5 pounds and my husband lost almost 7 pounds. Poor, poor us!
The good news is that we’re finally both up and regaining our vim and vigor. I was thrilled to death with the weight loss, but my husband felt like he’s dropped too low, so he’s trying to gain back most of his loss.
Today I feel like I can return to writing after what seems like eons of time. This novel was supposed to be finished months ago, and I’m still plugging away at it slowly, and not too surely. (I have never had a novel take months and months to complete like this one!)
As I continue to write, I want to stop long enough to thank all my sweet readers who have written me such sweet notes and reviews on Joyful, Joyful. Especially to my faithful readers in Nigeria. You have no idea how you encourage my heart, my sweet sisters in Christ. Thank you for your notes. Even though you have been purchasing my novels, I want to thank you in a special way. If you will email me at sheilaholmesauthor@gmail.com let me know where you wrote your last rating and review of ANY of my novels, I’ll gladly gift you the next in the series. And, when you’ve rated and reviewed that one, let me know and I’ll again gift you your next choice. (This offer is good through May 31st, 2017.)
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