I’m seeing a pattern in my life.  Last month I was in Phoenix to shoot the book trailer for NEW MOON.  (The editing’s almost finished!  Yaaah!)  We worked hard for three days.  Then I decided I could take a little time off and go to Tucson.  And what happened?  The weather turned cold and rainy.  So we toured the fabulous Desert Museum with coats and umbrellas.

This weekend, I was doing a romance panel discussion at the Bay to Ocean Conference in Easton, Maryland, with Mary Jo Putney and Candice Porch.  I explained that we used to say that a romance was the development of a relationship between a man and a woman.  Now it could be a woman and a lizard man from the planet Alpha Lasagna.

The conference was on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.  And one thing I wanted to do while I was over there was go to the Blackwater Refuge which was originally designed as a stop along the Atlantic flyway for migrating ducks and geese.  Now it’s also a sanctuary for bald eagles, ospreys, foxes, and Delmarva squirrels.  While I was at the visitors’ center, I learned that “bald” used to mean white-headed, not “hairless.”   I also got to see a webcam pointed at an eagle’s nest, where the male and female traded places while we were watching.

Unfortunately, the best part of the trip to the refuge was inside the visitors’ center.  Outside, it was snowing like mad.  We bought a CD with a guided tour.  But we gave up on seeing much through the blinding snowstorm.  (Well, we did miraculously see an eagle in a dead tree.)  But the drive was a nail-biting experience since most of the road was on levees build up between brackish and fresh water.  With my suspense writer’s imagination, I kept picturing us skidding into the river and drowning.  

After we left the refuge, we had a fun two and a half hour ride home through the snow, sleet, and hail.  The best part was the Bay Bridge, a seven mile long span, much of it high up in the air.  It’s bad enough under normal conditions.  It’s a real treat when you’re inching along in blizzard conditions.  
 
So, once again, I worked first, anticipating my reward.  And once again the worst day of the week was the day I picked to play hooky.   (Okay, I have to be honest.  We sneaked out of the conference for two hours on Saturday afternoon and went down to the discount shopping  mall–where I had a fun time spending money at a Chico’s outlet.)

But we did make it home without skidding off the road or plowing into any other cars.  And I was smart enough to stop at my local gourmet take-out shop, where we bought prepared food for the next few days.  So I won’t have to do any cooking while we’re snowed in.

Next time, I’ll be tempted to play first and work later.  Only I know I’m too tied to the work ethic to let myself do it.