Tis the Season...

Ah, dear blog I have neglected you. I think it's because I'm trying to not drink (so much), and there's a strong correlation between my drinking and my writing. So if this blog stinks we'll know why. Christmas is a really stupid time to stop boozing, by the way.

So it's two days before Christmas and my house has been an utter drop in center for people coming to get their books signed. I'm flattered, but deep down I realize that a signed copy of The Prairie Bridesmaid is the perfect last-minute-I-love-you-so-much-that-I-couldn't-get-this done-sooner gift. Besides, how the hell am I supposed to get my own husband's gift if I can't leave the house because my mom's hairdresser's sister is supposed to be popping by to get a book signed. We're approaching the point where I might be giving my husband and my two year old copies of the book - a book I'm sure they are both sick to death of. Ahh, these are, of course, nice problems to have.

Last weekend I was in Calgary for a reading and a bookclub appearance. It was fun - there was only one lady who resented my book and felt it a good idea to tell me. I had a great interview at the CBC. I love CBC; people who work there are smart.

Calgary was beautiful - giant fluffy snowflakes, mountains and temperatures above zero. It is sooooo cliche to live in Winnipeg and complain about the weather, but it is seriously fucking cold here right now. Minus 40 or something, haven't left the house in days. It is this weather that will force me to get my next book written. If I lived in Calgary I would be too busy catching snowflakes on my tongue and staring at the mountains to do anything. A condo in Mexico, however - I could definitely get writing done there.

On a completely unrelated and desperate note, I am attempting to potty train my son over the holidays. I've spent the past two days covered in pee and poo. I wish there was some sort of toilet camp you could send them to. Potty training (or if you're a politically correct helicopter parent - "toilet learning") is making the writing of this second book seem as easy as wrapping presents. On that note I should go wrap up a copy of The Prairie Bridesmaid for Rob.