Our house, and the valley (a large ranch, filled with grazing cattle) and beyond, to the north, the pine-covered wilderness of the southern Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The Labs, the heeler, and I arrived on Tuesday night--an eleven-hour drive, but the dogs are good travelers and traveling companions--to join Bill and the cat, who came out last week. So the whole pack is reunited, to the heeler's relief. When someone (a person, an animal) is temporarily absent, he feels the urgent need to find him and herd him home.
I've spent the rest of the week writing, happily working on the memoir I began when I was last here, in December and January. I'm ready to start the final chapter, but not quite ready, actually--still have some thinking to do. I was uneasy about the way the book seemed to fall into two separate pieces (there are two settings, Meadow Knoll and Lebh Shomea), but the voice is the same in both parts and I've added some story "connectors" that help to bridge the gap. The pieces seem to hold together fairly well--but maybe that's just because I've been living with it for a while. I'll leave it as it is and let the editor (Theresa May) tell me what she thinks. (She's not shy about giving her opinion!) The book will also appear in the Southwest Writers Collection, I understand.
Nice news, very nice news. Bleeding Hearts was named as one of the two finalists in the "contemporary fiction" category of the 2007 Willa Literary Awards. These awards are given yearly by Women Writing the West. China and I are thrilled (she says to tell you that she's never thought of herself as a "literary" figure, but if WWW thinks so, it must be true). The other finalist in the category, Susan Cummins Miller, is one of the contributors to What Wildness is This. And Pat Mora, a finalist in the poetry competition, is also a contributor. Congratulations, Susan and Pat! And to the Willa committee, many thanks for this recognition.
I'm leading a small memoir workshop for some local women on Monday. Once that's done, the rest of the time here (maybe through the first week of September) is mine, to spend writing and reading and playing. I've got a quilt project to start, so today I think I'll get out the sewing machine and set up the quilting table. And I've brought books, books, lots of good books, even some fiction (which I seem to be reading less of, these days) to get me into the mood for the next China.
Reading note. A poem by Rumi, in my own reworking:
Your mysteries will never get any clearer
if you keep asking the same questions.
You won't find the answers
as long as you insist on looking
in far, strange places.
Be patient, my dear friend.
When your eyes and your heart
have at last,
at long last learned to be quiet,
perhaps you will find
that your mysteries
have solved
themselves.