#1 NYT bestselling author Linda Lael Miller
Lake Doings

All danger of having my hair declared a national forest, or even a park, is past. I had the haircut and the color job, and all is well in LindaWorld. I didn’t reach my writing quota, but I did write a very good scene. Since I left the hero, Wyatt Yarbro, about to ride an unridable horse, I am eager to get back to the book.

Sadie and Bernice are napping on their office dog beds. Since the sun is out, I’ll be able to take them for a walk later. They LOVE that. Last night, a dozen or so young boys (8-12) had a party down on the beach, complete with a hot dog roast over a bonfire and some game involving throwing frisbee-like items. Sadie watched from the front windows, barking and barking–I think she was trying to wangle an invitation! From a Beagle’s perspective, few things are more attractive than hot dogs and boys throwing things. Sadie is so sociable that I felt a little sorry for her.

Yesterday, it was the hair. Today, it’s the carpet cleaning people. (Blame the Yorkie.) My dear friends, Althea, Annie and Cindy are coming for a weekend visit, and I want the place to be presentable. We plan to laugh, cry, shop and drink a lot of cosmos.

More tomorrow.

There’s Something About the Lake….

That makes me introspective. Since I tend to live in my head too much anyway, this is not necessarily good news. Today, as I was writing in my journal, next to the fireplace, I got to thinking about attitudes. How they’re behind even the smallest action.

For instance, I need a haircut (my hair is in immediate danger of being declared a National Forest), and I have an appointment to have it cut and colored this afternoon. It’s rainy out. I don’t like leaving the dogs, since the lake house is still new to them. I’m a little under the weather, literally and in the Freudian sense. I’m dreading that drive into town! I’d rather stay home, write in my Uncle Harry chair, play with the dogs, and a thousand other cozy, soup-bubbling-on-the-stove kinds of things. Does it do me any good at all to dread the appointment? Not a bit.

Attitudes are essentially choices, at the beginning, and their ramifications are far reaching, though often very subtle, leading to either a positive experience or a negative one, or that vast mediocre space in between. So I’m choosing another attitude. I’m going to focus on how much better I’ll feel, not needing a whip and a chair to control a bad case of helmet-head. I’ll be grateful for Lisa, my hairdresser, who wades in with her scissors every six weeks or so. And won’t it be nice to come home again, and be joyfully greeted by my beloved puppers?

OK, I’m good with the haircut.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Cattle drives rarely went more than ten or twelve miles a day, as the cattle had to be given time to rest and graze. A drive from Texas to Montana could take up to five months.

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