Riding the track at Daytona

It's almost that time again!

Yes, I can almost feel the stands trembling, hear the engines roar (tho the COT just doesn't sound the same, sigh), smell the exhaust fumes. Daytona's Bud Pole Shootout is this Saturday, and starts the new year of NASCAR racing. I'm psyched. Even though Ward Burton doesn't have a ride, I'm ready to roll. We're not going this year - other obligations have intervened - but at least we did FanFest in January with the testing as a bonus. I'll be pulling for all the underdogs - Ken Schrader in BAM's car, David Reutimann (go David!), and for Boris Said to get the pole. He deserves it, after losing it last July to a thunderstorm that forced qualifying to wash out with him sitting on the pole. Being outside the owner's points meant he had to go home after a lightning fast qualifying run earlier in the day. Bummer, she said.

So, I finally figured out this digital camera. Can't seem to make the video I did while running the Daytona track work except on my computer, so it's not going to show up. Believe me when I tell you, the track is bumpy like crazy around turns one and two. A real rollercoaster. At a measly 120 mph in a standard Impala SS (very cool car), my stomach hit the roof of my mouth. Add about 70 mph more, and I'll bet it's downright scary for those of us with common sense and no death wish. The guys out there driving those speeds probably think it's a ton of fun. And that's why they earn the big bucks.

I'll post pictures of the track and fanfest - you might be able to pick out Robbie Gordon, Jimmie Johnson, Casey Mears, Carl Edwards, David Reutimann, and Greg Biffle. It was night, so lighting was minimalist. I have another batch of pictures with Jeff Gordon, Juan Montoya, Reed Sorenson, and Jacques Villeneuve, which I'll try to post later.

On a writing note, 22 pages yesterday! Yes!!

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir

Oh my oh my - just by chance, I stumbled upon The Ghost and Mrs. Muir on TCM the other Sunday, just before the Super Bowl. I was in the throes of pulling together a big bowl of homemade potato salad, needed more sour cream, the grocery store was a nightmare, and feeling generally tired of the whole Big Game Party scene, when I saw that the movie was starting. Grabbing my hubby, who only remembered the TV series (which I never saw), I plunked him down beside me to watch. I've never forgotten seeing the flick on TV when I was about 13, I guess - it was instant adoration. Gene Tierney was lovely, Rex Harrison sexy, and a ghost story to boot - what else could a girl want? That was all I remembered, and watching it again lo these many years later, I had to laugh. Looking back while enjoying the movie all over again, I know what caught my fancy all those years ago - the notion that one could write a book, walk into a publisher's office, and leave three hours later with a contract and advance large enough to buy a house overlooking the sea. Plus, it was an impossible love story. If only I'd known when I was 13 what I know now, LOL, about publishing and writing. However, this time around I noticed the witty dialogue, how it defined the characters so clearly, and how much I miss that sort of art in newer movies. Next thing you know, I'll be sounding like an old fogey! Oh, and the lighting - just perfection. If you get a chance, watch it.

On a literary note, Leigh Wyndfield has a book launching today. SECRET OBSESSION is marvelous - I read it in draft mode and was sucked into the very original romance to such an extent, I remember it vividly a year later. Set on an island off the Outer Banks of North Carolina, it has a setting and characters you don't see in romances today, especially the sexier ones. This one has just the right amount of hot for those of you who like your romances that way. I highly recommend it.

The Moon of Lost Objects Found

I have no idea what to title this post. I've been up to my eyeballs in edits (Lord help me), alternately turning up the thermostat, then turning it down, practically running through my morning (now afternoon because I mistakenly believe it's warmer outside) walk (it's still cold out there!), working on tax stuff (not really, but I know where the box is with the receipts, LOL), and finding lost objects. I'm not kidding - came home from Florida, and couldn't find a darned thing, including my house keys and my fav bedroom slippers. Now, however, they're all accounted for, including a pendant for a necklace I misplaced years ago. I'd assumed it had been vacuumed up long before this. I guess I can name January "The Moon of Lost Objects Found." Been reading the books I have to judge for the RITA award. Interesting batch. Watching Gordon Ramsey bully restaurateurs into being better businessmen, and realizing that we artistic types don't like the business side of what we produce. Well, I do, but I think I'm probably the exception. My daughter the foodie turned me on to Ramsey, who I initially thought was a foul-mouthed bully, but I'm beginning to see the method in his madness. Personally, I'd do him bodily harm if he talked to me "that" way, but he has a knack for exposing the lazy, the arrogantly foolish, and the poseurs for what they are.

Ah, I now know what to title this short entry! I keep telling myself, the daffodils are coming, the daffodils are coming. . . .

Daytona Testing and Sun

We're back - some of us are more sunburned than others, but the good news is, we soaked up rays and watched the COT testing at Daytona until we were about to OD. Fanfest was a hoot - Gordon (both Robbie and Jeff) kidding around on a stage, Jimmie Johnson complaining he spent too much time on the couch stuffing his face over the break, and David Reutimann wishing plaintively he were in the top 35 and had the guaranteed car problems and that was all. Mark Martin looking like a munchkin with a big grin. It was all good.

Confession time: I goofed off. Read some of my TBR pile, including a stack of Sue Grafton I've been saving. It felt like eating Schwan's ice cream non-stop - but boy howdy, was it fun to do nothing but read someone else's work. I think I managed to turn off my inner-editor at least part of the time, LOL.

Will post some pictures once I figure out how to upload them from the camera I received this Christmas. My children were tired of being the officially designated Nascar photographers, so they insisted I learn to do digital. I guess it's time...

Farewell, O Christmas Tree, Hello, Daytona!

The Frasier fir dribbled needles, although with an amazing paucity, as it exited the house today. Lights are down, boxes of ornaments packed with a semblance of care, and the pine roping thrown into the go-to-the-dump pile. Christmas is officially over!

Which leads into the next great adventure, Daytona. We're heading down thataway for Sprint Cup testing and Fanfest, which we've never attended before. The truth is, these white legs need a beach in the world's worst way, and if I can get them into some rays and see Nascar at the same time, it's all good.

All this post-Christmas cleaning has me tackling closets with a fierce determination to weed and toss. My youngest daughter says it's manuscript-avoidance, and she's probably right. A clean closet provides instant gratification, whereas the manuscript-that-never-ends ....well, doesn't. I may have to kill off all the characters to find some closure!

Here's wishing everyone a great and peaceful New Year. I'm reading Barbara Kingsolver's ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE and feeling an environmental shake-down coming up, along with the clean-closet mania. Oh, and the new bio of Sam Ervin. Good books both. Happy reading in 2008!

December is almost over?

AARGH! How did that happen? I look up, and it's almost Christmas. Sheesh, give a girl a break!

The munchkins are home and the old Scrabble board is getting a good workout. They've become cutthroat players. Gone are the days when I let them win - now I'm fighting for my life, LOL! All the gifts are wrapped and mailed, the tree gets decorated tonight (a live Fraser, of course), and a red velvet cake is in the oven. Life is good.

Now if I could just find time to finish some proof-reading. I declare, I just don't have the patience for proofing. Even reading backwards doesn't help. Each time I look at a page I've finished, there's another typo. Heaven help me. Does Santa deliver proofreading gift certificates?

Gave myself a gift and read Barbara Kingsolver's ANIMAL DREAMS. I may have read it a long time ago, I've forgotten, but what a wonderful book. Her PRODIGAL SUMMER ranks up there as one of my favorites on the Keeper Shelf, and ANIMAL DREAMS belongs with it.

Only sixty-someodd days until Daytona and racin' starts again. Hanging on by my fingernails.