Susan's Hill Country Journal

June 5. We got a new computer last weekend, more memory and faster—but an infinite world of trouble to set up. Thankfully, Bill spent his former life as a computer programmer, so this task isn’t an insurmountable challenge. But there’s more to it than just plugging the darn thing in, and he’s been busy for the past few days getting everything set up. Once he’s finished, I have to learn how to use it. I do love the new technology, but sometimes I long for the old days and my teeny-tiny Apple. It was about as powerful as an IBM typewriter, but at last it was simple.

June 8. One of the prettiest June garden flowers is the herb echinacea, which blooms when it is hot and dry—and hot and dry it is! The daily temperatures are in the 90s, and we haven’t had a significant rain since last November. Things are getting serious here. But the echinacea doesn’t seem to notice. It’s one of those herbs that I always take when I feel a cold or the flu coming on. But if I never used it medicinally, I would still grow this beautiful plant. The combination of purple petals and orange center is simply stunning.

June 11. I’ve been thinking about a new writing project, and last week I sent a brief proposal to my editor at Berkley. I always hate to say too much about a project before it gets into the concrete, yes-this-is-definitely-a-go stage. But I’m very excited about this one. It’s a series of light mysteries featuring Beatrix Potter, during the first years of her life in the little village of Sawrey, in the Lake District of England, up to the point of her marriage to William Heelis (1905-1913). It could be a wonderful project. I love the period, I admire Beatrix, and the research would be fascinating. Maybe I’d even have to go back to the Lake District!

June 14. The copy-edited manuscript of Indigo Dying arrived yesterday, so I’ve spent the weekend working on it. The book was a great deal more complex and interesting than I remembered it. Usually, when I’m finished with a manuscript, I don’t like it very much—there’s always a gap between the book I had in my head and the book I managed to get down on paper. But in this case, I don’t think the gap was all that great. And indigo is a far more interesting herb than I ever imagined, when I began working on the project. A real learning experience for me!

June 18. The Hayman fire in Colorado, which has been burning for several days, has burned to a point only six miles from my daughter’s home in Woodland Park. They are on stand-by alert for evacuation. It’s an awful situation for Robin and Jeff. Their house is on a wooded hillside and terribly vulnerable. The firefighters have been wonderful, Robin says—everyone is working like the dickens to save the town. Here, all I can do is hold my breath and read the updates on the local Colorado websites, which are much more up-to-date and specific than anything on CNN. Last night’s sunset was a stunning burnt-orange, colored by the smoke from the fire. Smoke from Colorado, blowing all the way to Texas. The world isn’t so large, after all. I’ve gone back to work on the book—A Dilly of a Death—but it’s hard to keep my mind on it.

June 20. The daylilies are blooming throughout the garden. Here is a picture of the little lavender one that has appeared outside my window. Funny thing—I don’t remember planting it. The Hayman fire is quieter today, "laid down," as the firefighters say. The humidity has been so incredibly low there: four percent! Since our humidity hovers around seventy percent most of the summer, that is very hard to imagine.

June 23. Looks like the fire danger has ended for Woodland Park. The fire is sixty percent contained. (I’ve learned a lot of new vocabulary words this past week.) Everybody’s still nervous, but the worst is past and people can start getting on with their lives. What a tragedy for those who have lost homes.

June 25. My editor wrote to say that she’s interested in the Potter project and would like to see a series precis, an outline for the first book, and a couple of sample chapters! That is definitely a piece of good news, but I don’t have time to focus on it right now. This week, in addition to work on Dilly, I have to make a trip to Austin to get publicity photos made. I haven’t done that in quite a while, and I’m not looking forward to it. It’s just another one of those things that have to be done every so often—part of the book business.

June 30. Our serious drought has just been canceled by a flood. We got over six inches of rain in the past 24 hours, and we’re seriously awash here. The creek is out of its banks, the yard is flooded, and the road is under water. And with all the storms, I’ve had to have the computer shut off, so the writing has slowed in the past day or so. I’m within 10,000 words of the end of Dilly, however, and the deadline is still a month away, so there’s no problem. I would like to get it finished, though, so I can go on to the Potter project. Meanwhile, Bill has been working on the first couple of chapters of the next Robin Paige book, which we’ll start when we get back from vacation in September. Meanwhile, about all I can do is look out of the window and marvel at the sheets of water rushing across the landscape. And grumble, too: last week, I dug, divided, and moved about three dozen tubers of my Louisiana iris, from their home near Iris Pool to various places along the creek. When the water goes down, I’ll probably see that they’re all gone, swept downstream by the flood. What a pity.