Today's Words . . . As They Spill

The Road Leads to Spring

2012-02-10T23:14:00.000-06:00

I cannot get over the number of robins that are hanging out in our neighborhood. The first one I saw made me do a double-take and make sure it was indeed January. It was indeed January. Flocks have descended since which makes me wonder what they know about how soon spring will arrive for good here. It's felt like spring most of the winter. Forsythia bushes are blooming.

Photo by costi

Now here it is practically mid-February and we are facing our first "winter storm" of the season. It started out about a week ago with admittedly gleeful reports of a potentially significant storm with accumulating snow. Now it's been reduced to a mixed bag of whatever depending on how the cold from the north mixes with the warmth from the south. In other words, typical Oklahoma weather shenanigans that keeps every weatherman in the state humble.

My daugher-in-law and I attended an early spring garden lecture by the County Extension office at our local library yesterday. I learned some really cool stuff. Like all that time I spent with my grandfather gleefully jumping on onion tops so that they would bend over and the energy would go to making a bulb was all for naught. Turns out bulb size is determined by length of daylight. I'm sure glad he didn't know that.

I will be planting next week. Provided that the mixed bag of weather does not turn into a blizzard. Well, even if it does, it can't snow on indoor flats! Well... Perhaps I shouldn't be tempting a challenge....

Any way you look at it, we are about on the downhill slide of February right into March and spring (storms, wind, the thorns that come with the rose). No mixed bag can stop that, and I am ready!

Photo by glanham99

Tinker Time

2012-01-31T22:02:00.000-06:00

I so want to go out and mess with the garden. Stir up some dirt. Plot and plan for the upcoming months. It's warm (69) and sunny, but my goodness gracious it is also

Photo by cpriest

a bit windy.

My ears don't like wind. Ever since I can remember, they tend to complain after I've been out in it awhile. I'd put a hat on, but it might end up in Texas later today.

Things are supposed to calm down a little this afternoon. Hope it's before the sun goes down.

I have my whole house to my whole self for the whole afternoon and evening, and I just don't know where to start in all the lovely quietness...

Pink and Blue

2012-01-27T20:36:00.001-06:00

Photo by Sundstrom

I woke this morning to a beautiful sunrise. The clouds were gentle, very pink. Made me smile. Pink followed me from the east side of the house clear to the west--the entire sky was blushing.

To the South.

Photo by lonniehb

At the back door I turned my head and looked north. There was what the day truly had in store. An approaching cold front.

Sigh.

It did manage to hold off till this evening when I was home, so that blue wasn't as ominous as I thought. But tonight the wind is banging at the windows like a beast.

Robins are all over the place. The flower bulbs across the street and at my mother-in-law's are up about three inches. And we still have February to go.

Spent

2012-01-24T23:18:00.000-06:00

I think that's the word I'm looking for. It's how I feel. Spent, used up, washed out, and tired.

Photo by superburg

I know it's winter. Lack of vitamin D. Days not going quite as planned. It's not permanent. Thank goodness.

Photo by MariuszD17

I'm already looking forward to planting and walking and maybe even writing. And tonight it's raining. The ground is gulping it in great greedy gasps, sucking and hoarding because when will it happen again? It's been too long since water puddled in the streets and streamed along the curb.

My bare-earth vegetable beds are getting the first real water they've had since we cut down my tomato plant and finally let the freezing temperatures do what freezing temperatures will do to tomatoes and basil. I still have a few carrots and beets out there. I wonder what they'll look like tomorrow. Oh, and a parsley plant and a bok choy plant that refuse to die.

I want to be like them when I grow up. Perhaps I'll feel more like it could happen after I've had some water and some sleep myself.

I Do Have Little Stones

2012-01-05T23:47:00.000-06:00

Photo by Kovik

I have a round container about four inches in diameter, maybe an inch and a half tall--bottom and lid. It is crocheted from average white crochet thread and--if done by hand as it looks it was--done with a small gauge needle, mostly with a double crochet stitch. The center of the lid looks like a snowflake. Thanks to heavy, heavy starch, it has been shaped into a stiff two-part container. It takes two hands to open it--one to hold the bottom and the other to coax the lid away from the base.

Inside I keep a set of 10 smooth white stones and a pink button button. They are souvenirs from the 2002 Oklahoma Writers Federation conference. Each of the stones has a little motivational message scripted in fine black marker, that is almost brown with fading. The button was intended to be a reminder to put "butt on" chair and write, if that was really what you wanted to do.

The stones talk to each other in a light high voice when I move the container. They sound different if the base is resting on a surface--more resonant--as opposed to being rattled in the air. It's easy to hear them clearly because of the open crochet mesh work.

I love the sound of them. But they would do me more good if I would take them out and skip them in the river of my creativity.

"Ask and Receive"     "Affirm"
"Baby Steps"
"Visualize"    "Progress not Perfection"

Photo by Sundstrom

"Show Up" "Take Action"

Photo by Sundstrom

"What Comes Next? "Write On"

"I Am Enough"

Photo by wstarr

Restless

2012-01-05T00:07:00.003-06:00

Alison Krauss does a song with that title, and I can so relate to a couple lines in the lyrics tonight:

"There's a restless feeling in my bones and...it just won't go away."

Photo by Fiene

I don't know what it is. Am I picking up on someone else's unease? Is there something I should be doing? I am so horribly tired, but just tried to sleep and my mind is zinging from one crazy thought to another, reminding me somewhat of how my thoughts play when I have a fever. No. That's not it. Thankfully I've managed to stay healthy so far this winter. I think I just want to do what I want to do without wondering if what I want to do is going to meet with approval. Isn't that insane? I'm a grown woman for goodness sake.

Tonight's little stone: restlessness. I understand the leg thing. The twitch, the itch, the hankering for something that you can't quite put a name to. The tingle in the toes and the fingers, the pacing of the mind, the jittery jangle of nerves that's so far from peace as to almost be the opposite but not maliciously so. It's that odd sort of stress that runs the border between a tickle and a pain.

So, hello. There you are restlessness. Can you calm down now and let me ease into dreams. No nightmares, okay? I think I need some music.

My Little Stones...

2012-01-03T22:23:00.000-06:00

Photo by chidsey

...are plink, plunking down to the bottom of a deep well instead of playing in the river.

I'm not being very good at paying attention and being observant. Not that I am not trying. Right now the morning sun loves to play with the glass on my window sill and if I sit in my chair, read my Bible, sip my coffee and then just watch till the sun rises high enough off the horizon, I'll spot rainbow circles all over the wall and ceiling in front of of me. It is a cheerful way to start the morning. I'll be glad when the sun is coming up earlier, however. I can't always wait till the rainbows come out to play.

Photo by unn

But oh, my goodness, I am enjoying Catherine the Great: Portrait of a Woman by Robert Massie at night. I'd forgotten all about him as an author. Shame on me. I learned much of what I know about Russian history from his book Peter the Great: His Life and World and Edward Rutherfurd's Russka: The Novel of Russia. I may end up re-reading both when I finally finish reading about Catherine.

I have seriously been cheating myself out of reading time over several years. I think it's because I spend too much time on the computer and because when dh is sitting here in the living room watching TV in the evenings he wants to do it "together." I can't seem to convince him that you can't watch TV and really still be together but then I guess you can't read a book together. Unless you each have a copy. Unless your spouse likes to read.

Enough of the silliness. I have a lot to be grateful for: being able to observe, even if it's not perfect, for being able to read, for having a loving family. It can't be perfect. Not now, anyway. :)

Here We Go Again

2012-01-01T16:29:00.000-06:00

Another year down, forever to go. :)

I have not even thought about what I might try to do different, or new, or better this year. So I've decided it's going to be The Year of the Chill-Out. Outside of a few goals I set monthly and consider essential, I think I'll avoid quotas and numbers and "should-do" ideas in favor of creating quality days.

I want to walk because I've forgotten how much I used to love it. I want to read, because I made that a goal in December, and my goodness, I've missed it! And I find my own creative juices bubbling. I think perhaps that has been the missing "nutrient" in my creative diet.

Photo by Thornsa

I tried painting with acrylics last night for the first time in my life. I've done pencil and charcoal sketches and I used to play with pastels a lot when I was younger. But paint always intimidated me. I think perhaps it shouldn't. May that be the first of my ventures into unexplored territories. Less fear, more courage.

I didn't take nearly the pictures I took in previous years and I'd like to change that as well.

In the interests of keeping things moving forward, I plan to continue with the reassess and regroup practice at the beginning of every month.

So there you have it. Blog one, day one, year 2012. Who knows how many more will follow?

Everybody Salsa!

2011-11-21T11:57:00.001-06:00

Yeah, I felt like dancing when Homemade Salsa Day was finished. It took the best part of the day to finish everything. I knew it would.

I managed to pull together five different batches of roasted salsas:

Santa Fe: Santa Fe peppers & red onion
Poblano: Poblano peppers & white onion
All Red: Combination of red chilis: fresno, jalapeno, cayenne & red onion
Jalepeno: Green jalepeno peppers & yellow onion
Habanero: 2 small Hab peppers, one orange, one green & white onion

For each batch, peppers and onion were roasted along with a generous portion of garden fresh tomatoes and garlic cloves, all drizzled with a little bit of olive oil . I separate the cloves from the head because they roast faster that way.

Once the veggies were roasted I pulsed the peppers, onion and garlic in the food processor and put the mixture in my glass batter bowl, so I'd have plenty of room to stir later and then have a handy-dandy spout to help me pour the salsa into containers.. To the pepper mix, I added salt and cider vinegar to taste and about 1/3 c chopped cilantro. Next the tomatoes went into the food processor bowl and were pulsed. My family likes chunky salsa, so it doesn't take much to get the tomatoes to their liking.

Add the tomatoes to the pepper mixture, stir it up, and adjust seasonings to taste.

Sometimes I like spicy and sometimes I don't. The combos are listed above go in order from mildest to hottest. As they were finished. Sometimes these salsas have a tendency to heat up over time.

I also have to mention that my roasted salsa education comes from the cookbook Salsas That Cook by Rick Bayless. So far I have only used the book to learn the basics and then sort of branched out on my own from there. However, I have to say that in browsing some of the other recipes that focus more on using the salsas, there's a lot more deliciousness to be learned from the book than I have to date.

Here's next week's project:

I haven't decided to try to attempt another salsa day or perhaps do a simple tomato sauce instead.

There's probably another couple buckets worth of tomatoes and peppers still on the plants. I intend to have everything harvested by Friday. I'm tired of covering and uncovering the plants.

Savvy Tenant - Finding Home Sweet Apartment, Part I

2011-11-13T10:51:00.001-06:00

No post on this blog, including this one, will ever provide professional legal advice.

There are as many ways to look for a place to rent as there are people who rent places. Sometimes, however, finding the right place can feel like an overwhelming job. Here are a few hints that might help you narrow down the field.

1. Make a list of what is necessary, important, and desirable:

By Fanginhoon

Necessary being non-negotiable (a maximum that you can pay for rent might be an example),

Important being things you prefer not to live with or without but if you absolutely had to, you could (perhaps a gas stove instead of an electric one), and

Desirable being things that would be a definite plus but not necessarily a deal-breaker when leasing a place (enough room to set up a permanent scrap booking center).

2. Detail the information you want to know:

I found it helpful to have a spreadsheet ready so I could go down my checklist and take accurate notes. Fields could include:

Where you found the ad: (newspaper, online, bulletin board--so you can find it again if necessary. And sometimes managers will ask how your found them so they know where their advertising dollars work best.),

Address

Phone number

Amount of the rent

Lease term (month-to-month, six months, one year?)

Deposit

Application fee (is there one and how much?),

Utilities (included or not, and if not, is a monthly average available?*)

Yard work (am I responsible for any and if so, what?),

Central heat & air?

What type of flooring (hardwood? Tile? Carpet?)

Appliances included

Laundry facilities

Pet information

When the place is available and

For future use: appointment time, directions, and phone number if it's not the same as the listing number so that you can call if you need to cancel the appointment.

Some of these items may not matter to you; simply leave them out. There might be things you would ask that I didn't include. The key is to give this some thought so you don't waste time looking at places only to find that you wouldn't move in anyway.

You might want to make a printable table and a spreadsheet. The computer spreadsheet makes the manipulation of the information you gather easy. A printed table you can take with you if you decide to look for places by cruising neighborhoods, looking for For Rent signs. With cell phones in just about every pocket, it's easy to call from your car, parked in front of a property that looks appealing.

Photo by vierdrie

3. Start your search:

Newspapers

CraigsList and other online ads

Pamphlets found in local grocery and department store lobbies

Driving neighborhoods

Inquiring at offices of apartment complexes

If you're military, there's an Automated Housing Referral Network you can use.

Word of mouth. Where do your friends rent? Would they recommend the place/landlord?

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*In our area if you call the utility companies and give them an address, they will give you a monthly average bill. If the landlord doesn't have utility information try calling the companies directly for the information.

Remember: If you have questions of law, consult a lawyer, not a writer's blog.

Moonbeams

2011-11-12T23:26:00.001-06:00

from 11/11/11. Thanks Penny, for the head's up on 1 Year 1000 Challenges.

Couldn't find my camera :( so I had to use hubby's. It was still set on Daylight Savings time, so I was 59 minutes early hitting 11/11/11 11:11 instead of a minute late. I fixed the setting and I did get out and take another couple at the real 11/11/11 11:11 Central Standard Time, but the shots were boring in comparison:

I guess Venus probably doesn't think that's true. :)

Goal for Tomorrow

2011-11-02T22:21:00.004-05:00

Yep.

Be young again.

Just kidding.

Smile in the sunshine.

I can do that.

Today Feels Like

2011-11-01T23:47:00.002-05:00

I have totally lost every bit of my ability to write.

Photo by lampelina

Why are so many people nodding?

Why am I always the last to know?

Hello November!

2011-10-31T23:46:00.000-05:00

You are a few moments away, and I am so looking forward to you.

Photo by nkzs

Not sure what I'll be doing here over the next month. It is a lovely warm-up place and the thought occurred to me that since I badly need to work on setting and description (for those times when it's important to tell to show); this might be a good place to practice. I need to dig out Word Painting again (by Rebecca McClanahan). That book still comes to mind as one of the best for tips on handling description. It was one of the first writing books I got along with Writing Down the Bones.

Anyway, I may be trying some exercises here and I plan to keep up with the Savvy Tenant posts as long as there are a few reading them. I will be putting NaNo updates on a different blog: Cousins and Other Creatures so that those who aren't interested in NaNo don't have to wade through word counts and whining and the after effects of overdoses of chocolate.

Savvy Tenant - Knowledge is Power

2011-10-30T12:29:00.000-05:00

No post on this blog, including this one, will ever provide professional legal advice.

As a tenant, you can and should protect your rights and your money. To work from a position of power you must be well informed. The time to educate yourself is before you start looking for a place to rent. It is far better to avoid situations that become caustic and costly than it is to begin your education when you find yourself in the middle of a messy, expensive confrontation that could have been avoided.

Photo by ywel

Knowledge is power.

What is a landlord’s job? It is to provide you with a safe place to live that has running water, heat and power. He must promptly attend to problems that would render a dwelling dangerous or uninhabitable. He is responsible for knowing his responsibilities, and his rights, as a landlord.

He is not responsible for educating you as to your rights and responsibilities as a tenant.

Your job as a tenant is to read, learn and comply with the laws governing your tenancy. This doesn't mean simply reading your lease because there are rules and regulations that each state establishes that govern the landlord-tenant relationship and it is probable that some of these may not be included in your lease document.

So must you spend an afternoon at the courthouse and wading through volumes of legalese? Thankfully, no.

Each state has put together a set of laws governing the relationship between the landlord and the tenant. In Oklahoma the document is called Oklahoma Non-Residential/Residential Landlord and Tenant Acts. I refer to the document as the TLA, even though I'm sure it probably has other names in other states.

Sometimes cities will also have rules and regulations that govern landlords and tenants. It would be wise it check into those as well.

Where do you find a copy of the TLA?

I found my first TLA booklet for free at my local library.

Now that the cost of everything has gone up, such booklets may not be in print. However, if you prefer a print approach to reading, try calling your local City Hall and see if someone there can provide you with the most current edition of the TLA for your state. If they don’t have one, ask if they know know where you can obtain a copy.

Many such documents can be found online. Just be careful that you download the most recent edition. When I looked for the one for my state online, the most current digital edition I found was updated in 2006. City Hall provided me with a copy updated in 2010.

Photo by dynamix

There are online sites that discuss the TLA for the various states across the US. My favorite is RentLaw.com

There are laws in this state document that cannot be changed by a landlord's lease. An example from the Oklahoma TLA would be:

113.1 Denial or termination of tenancy because of guide, signal or service dog. A landlord shall not deny or terminate a tenancy to a blind, deaf, or physically handicapped person because of the guide, signal, or service dog of such person unless such dogs are specifically prohibited in the rental agreement entered into prior to Nov. 1, 1985.

And if the lease does not comply with the TLA in one area, often the entire document is rendered null and void.

However, there are places in the TLA that will say something to the effect that thus-and-such a law is in effect "if not stipulated otherwise in the lease," which means the landlord does have flexibility in that portion and the TLA steps in to regulate such items only when they are not specifically addressed in the lease. An example, again in Oklahoma, would be:

110. Term of tenancy

Unless the rental agreement fixes a definite term in writing, the tenancy is week-to-week in the case of a roomer or boarder who pays weekly, and in all other cases month-to-month. [Italics mine.]

Our lease indicates that our lease term is always one year, and never month-to-month.

Too many tenants make assumptions. Don't be one of them. Don't assume, for example, that you automatically get your deposit back the day you return the keys. Most states allow time for the landlord to inspect and make repairs so that s/he can itemize deductions, if any, from your deposit. In Oklahoma, a tenant must make written request for the deposit which provides a forwarding address and this request must be made within six months of the termination of the lease. Otherwise the deposit legally becomes the property of the landlord.

"So why doesn't it say that in the lease?" is a frequent question I get regarding this aspect of refunding the security deposit.

Because it's already been said in the TLA, and it is not the job of the landlord to itemize every provision of the TLA in the lease.

Knowledge is power. And money. Be a savvy tenant. Know the TLA for your state before you rent.
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Remember: If you have questions of law, consult a lawyer, not a writer's blog.

The Sun is Setting

2011-10-29T21:47:00.002-05:00

on October. It's been a good month. Thanks to all the writers over at NaBloWriMo for the collective energy and the opportunity to find some really nice blogs.

Write on everyone!

Eating Healthy - Why Is It So Difficult

2011-10-28T20:44:00.001-05:00

Photo by hotblack

Who would have dreamed that something as simple as food could become so complicated?

Recently we welcomed the arrival of Sunflower Farmers Market and Whole Foods to our area. But even with the choices that these establishments open up to the community, shopping becomes more and more and more complicated because we simply can't believe everything we're told. Just because it's fresh, or organic, or natural doesn't necessarily mean my body needs it. Never can I assume that because my body might need it, the person next to me should have it too. There are questionable choices to be made at Sunflower and Whole Foods both.

Photo by alex27

Not to mention that what is considered "unhealthy" today could very well be considered "healthy" tomorrow. Think of the bad rap eggs got just a short time ago. If a person reads on how those studies were conducted that "proved" eggs raised cholesterol--my goodness. Now that whole idea has been scrapped, provided you aren't eating a dozen of them in a day. Coffee and chocolate. Potatoes. I bought into a lot of what I read back then. I don't so much anymore.

Then there is the element that wants to lay the blame for health epidemics at the feet of fast food corporations and who want to pass judgement on the people who eat there. Even if all the McDonalds, and Arby's, and Burger Kings were eliminated from the planet, if no human ever again ate meat, or if we never ever cooked another fruit or veggie, all the ills of mankind would not be solved and we'd still have a plethora of problems staring us in the face and growing larger as we tried to figure out a solution.

So you know what? I'm not going to worry much about what my neighbor eats, or if an obese person happens to be in line at the donut shop, or if children eat too much candy next week. I am going to try to continue to

educate myself
make wise choices
slow down and pay attention to what my body is telling me
offer others an opportunity to learn what I've learned
respect that others have the right to make decisions for themselves and their children, even if I disagree with those choices

This quote sums up my philosophy when it comes to what is healthier to put in my mouth:

"As for butter versus margarine, I trust cows more than chemists." - Joan Gussow

Low Key NaNo

2011-10-27T11:30:00.000-05:00

Normally by this time in October I've planned and cooked a freezer menu for November, stocked up on candles and munchies good and bad, outlined a story or two or three, practiced by blogging through October for NaBloWriMo, reorganized my desk and my recliner area, read some motivational information, and generally cleared away as much of the day-to-day stuff as I could so that I could write, write, write.

I decided not to do most of that this year. I have blogged; that's good practice and something I am beginning to enjoy again. I have also read some great pre-NaNo blog posts by people who seem to know what they are doing, and I have loosely outlined two different ideas that are currently waving both hands and hollering, "Pick me! Pick me!"

Otherwise I have decided that I am not going to do anything that I normally wouldn't do in any other month. Why?

I would so love November to become a habit instead of an extravaganza when it comes to showing up and accomplishing something when it comes to writing.

For that to be accomplished I can't do anything in November that I wouldn't be willing to do every month (or most months) of the year.

It's sort of like making a lifestyle change as opposed to going on a diet.

I discovered, thanks to 750words.com, that when I know what it is I want to write about, I can pump out 750 words in 15 to 20 minutes. At that rate, 1,667 words can be done in under an hour. Even if it winds up being three 20-minute sessions, surely I can carve an hour out of most days to spend writing. I just need to know when I sit down to write what it is I am aiming to accomplish.

The other thing I want to do is work out a measurable way to revise/edit and to market. After which I'll need to figure out how to rotate them with creation to have a process that works.

I have to start somewhere, and so I am starting by welcoming NaNo with open arms and all the excitement that curls my toes and makes me eager to dive in to something new, and at the same time trying to establish a habit that lasts once NaNo is finished. I've had this goal before and not been at all successful, so I'm hoping that's because I turned the month into something that was not sustainable.

Holy Jalapeno Habaneros, Batman

2011-10-26T17:50:00.002-05:00

It's salsa time! (No, I don't put eggplant in my salsa. They sneaked in when I wasn't looking.)

Isn't it pretty?

This is today's harvest. I have another photo, showing how deep the container is, but for some reason it keeps wanting to rotate the wrong way when I upload it, so maybe later, when I'm not brain dead, I can figure out what I'm doing wrong. Anyway, We're sneaking up on having lots and lots and lots of vine-ripe tomatoes, provided we don't get a solid freeze. We may need to do another cover-up tomorrow night.

Anyway, this is the tomato-producing monster we affectionately refer to as Cousin It. The purple in the center are basil flowers that I can't reach over the tomato plant to clip off. The honeybees LOVE that I have let them go, and I find myself wondering what kind of honey that would be.... Anyway, back to It, when the 100-degree days finally came to an end, this plant was yellow with all the blooms and promptly took over the entire pyramid, which was okay, because little else survived. This is a heat-resistant plant called "Solar Flair". There is a stubborn Beefsteak tomato in the center that I might end up with six tomatoes from.

Then there are the peppers. I can't get over the peppers. The blooms are almost all gone now which means "the end is near" but I still have lots and lots of little ones that may get another couple weeks to put on some size. We'll see.

I have pictures of the whole kit and kaboodle as seen from my kitchen door, but it too keeps wanting to rotate the wrong way when I upload it.

I've done this before! I know how to do it! Why must everything be so stubborn?

Hope the salsa goes together better.

Dead Man's Curve

2011-10-25T22:55:00.002-05:00

First let me throw out a disclaimer. I don't do the Halloween thing, so this story has nothing to do with the approach of the day. :) Just sayin'.

I'm telling the story because it deserves a swan song. It probably deserves a better telling than I can give it here, and my dh loves to tell it, and so embellishes it deliciously and accurately--or perhaps a bit exaggeratedly? He's entitled; it happened to him. I have never been good at writing humor. Unless I'm feeling nutty.

Anyway, this story has been told many times when myself, or my husband or either of my sons has been driving someone for the first time east on Highway 33 between Guthrie and Highway 107 North or Perkins or beyond. Progress in all its infinite wisdom is building a new Highway 33, and the curve where this incident occurred isn't even paved anymore; they were pounding away and hauling off large chunks of asphalt last time I drove by the stretch on the newly opened highway. The area is well on it's way to becoming pasture again. Or maybe the westbound side of Hwy 33, I don't know. But the story isn't going to be the same if we have to point north and say--"I think this happened almost over there somewhere close by....."

Back shortly after we were married, my husband and two buddies were trimming homes in Edmond and making the drive every day between Perkins and I-35 South which headed off to their destination. The three of them were crammed into the front of a compact pick-up truck and as you can imagine, the drive to and from work were fraught with bad jokes and...well...other things. Like a succulent orange becoming Orange Julius sprayed all over the windshield when someone said something funny at just the right time. Or the wrong time, depending on how you looked at it.

So one early morning they making their normal drive just as the sun has come up. I guess that day my hubby called the window seat because he was watching out passenger window when they tooled past this place on Hwy 33 where, if one wasn't paying attention at night or in the fog or under the influence, it would be easy to miss that the highway curved to the left, and one would wind up on a country dirt road to nowhere instead of on the way to I-35.

"Hey, hold on! There was a body in the ditch back there," my husband announced to his fellow travelers, just as they pass the intersection of the highway and the dirt road.

Of course the others didn't believe him. Really. A body?

"I am not kidding. There was a body in the ditch back there."

About this time it was probably occurring to the driver that this was a man who can spot a wrench on the highway while he was traveling 70 mph and probably tell you what brand it was before he pulled off and backed up to go get it. So the driver began to slow down. There was no place to turn around and the highway was deserted as it often was that time of day, so the driver proceeded to back up to that Y in the road, and well...

It sure looked like there was a body in the ditch. Thin man, bearded, very, very still.

Of course to be sure, the other two grown men had to get a closer look and no one must have been ready yet to get out of the vehicle to check things out. So you have, if you can imagine, three grown men all scrunched over toward the passenger window staring at this body and wondering what they should do next (being that this was before the age of cell phones).

That body bolted upright, scraggly beard and all, and yelled at them, "What're you lookin' at?"

Wish I could have been there to hear them scream. And watch them scramble for fast forward and out of there.

I sure am going to miss storytelling at Dead Man's Curve.

Monday, Monday

2011-10-24T15:54:00.002-05:00

ARG!

I spent a whole day at home, a whole day cleaning and I'm trying not to get discouraged over the fact that I could do this all day every day for a week and still have something left to sort/toss/give away/put away/clean/wash/dry/package/dust/mop/sweep/shred or....flush.

Savvy Tenant - The Lease

2011-10-23T23:52:00.000-05:00

No post on this blog, including this one, will ever provide professional legal advice.

I can't tell you how many times I've said, "It's in your lease" only to get the response, "Can I get a copy of that? I have no idea where mine is."

Photo by gun4hire

And I want to say, "What did you think we were doing? Did you really think that we had you initial four pages of documentation and sign your name twice, just to witness your penmanship? And then we thought, Oh yes! With penmanship like that this person is worthy of a key! and when you were handed that key the contract you signed vanished into thin air?"

No, folks. It goes in our file cabinet along with the application and the report we got from our tenant screening agent. We know that lease inside and out. And we quote from it freely when we send reminders to disconnect hoses before a freeze or to give notice that the yard needs attention.

It needs to go in a file cabinet at your place too. And you need to get it out from time to time. You need to know it well. In fact you should:

Read the lease carefully before you turn in an application.

Having been on both sides of this issue, I would not begin the process of renting an apartment, house or duplex, not even a room, without having first seen the lease.

More importantly,

Never ever put down a deposit without reading the lease first.

I would not allow myself to "fall in love" with the perfect apartment, only to have to walk away from it because the landlord requires that I wax and buff the kitchen floor on a monthly basis. Okay, that is an exaggeration, but it's not so far off base. Don't consider the apartment that will not allow your dearly beloved pet lizard that you've raised from the egg. Or if pets are allowed, then is there an extra deposit and is it refundable? Read the lease and you'll know the answers to the question.

Icon by Billy Alexander

You won't remember to ask--or maybe you won't know to ask--all the relevant questions when you're looking for a place to live. So you were wise and inquired about pets. What about maintenance? What maintenance issues are your responsibility and which ones are the landlord's? What about snow and ice removal if that is an issue in your area? Yard care: do you do it? What does it include? Our leases assign yard responsibilities that include trimming trees and bushes. Too many tenants move in and decide that it's too much, but then it's too late. The time to think seriously about those issues and whether or not they are your cup of tea has vanished once that lease is signed.

If any portion of the lease is not acceptable to you, the time to endeavor to negotiate is before you pay the money it costs to get your application processed. That money is non-refundable. So when you find a place you think might just be the ticket, ask the landlord for a rental application and a copy of the lease.

Be on guard when a landlord says, "We've had lots of interest in this place. It may not be available tomorrow." You may have an urge to plunk down the deposit in exchange for him taking it off the market and holding it for you.

Resist that urge!

Photo by Moriel

What if there is something in the lease that you dislike so badly it makes you change your mind? What if you forgot to mention that you have a pure-bred Pekingese that's worth more than your car and the lease says no pets, non-negotiable. If your application goes through and the landlord says you can move in and you can't part with Poopsie, you have just thrown several hundred dollars up in the air. Or into the landlord's bank account.

Here's why: the deposit tendered with an application removes the listing from the market. The landlord is no longer showing it to potential renters, believing that all you are waiting for is the the tenant screen to come back clear so that you can move in. Unless you are turned down based on the tenant screen you must move in*, or pay the landlord for losing potential renters with the deposit you put down.

Photo by Leonardini

No place is worth several hundred dollars if you can't even cross the threshold.

So be wise. Read the lease early on. Make your future decisions based on your reaction to the lease.

Oh, and if a landlord balks at giving you a copy to read: run!

Actually there is something that you should probably read even before you get a copy of a lease. You should probably read it before you even start looking to rent a place. What is it? We'll talk about it in the next Savvy Tenant post.

-----------------------------------------
*This is true in the state of Oklahoma. Laws may vary from state to state, but this item seems to be one that carries over into most places. Remember: if you have questions of law, consult a lawyer, not a writer's blog.

Yesterday

2011-10-23T18:20:00.004-05:00

was insane.

Today I recuperate.

Photo by Nossirom

Photo by iprole

Photo by pear83

Photo by Starfish75

Break in a Busy Day

2011-10-21T16:27:00.003-05:00

Wow. I hit the ground running and haven't quit. I am so ready for a nap.

My son and daughter-in-law have a house guest for the weekend. Because my two boys, their dad and their grandpa were scheduled for a golf game, my daughter-in-law and I went to pick up Janice at the airport. I blogged some about Janice back in 2004, when my son first met her. They have been good friends ever since. Both were severely disappointed when she couldn't make it to his wedding, but here we are two years later, and she's finally come to visit for the weekend.

Photo by salsachica

Janice flew in from Lafayette and her flight was late. So I dropped my dear DIL at the terminal because she had to get clearance to go to the gate for Janice. I hung around in the cell-phone waiting area in their Prius (love their car!) and read Steven Pressfield's Do The Work--sorely needed--until she finally arrived. We got her and her luggage situated and then went to eat Thai food. Yum! It took a little bit to get through the menu and help Janice understand what was available, but with time and patience we all had a lovely meal.

If you didn't click back to the 2004 blog, it might help knowing that Janice is deaf and inching up on 70 years old, I believe.

We came back to my house where I cut some basil for my daughter-in-law to have on hand for her girl's-only pizza party this evening to welcome Janice to Oklahoma. She's making the crust and then we get to put together our own pizza with whatever topping we like (as long as we bring our own cheese) and then bake them. She and Janice will spend the rest of the afternoon making pizza dough and chopping vegetables. Anyway, we wandered through my little veggie maze out there, pulled a carrot, picked some tomatoes, cut a few peppers and got the basil cut--lots of touching and smelling and comparing.

Oh and in case I forgot to mention it, Janice is blind, also.

Whenever I think "I can't" I try to make myself remember Janice. Janice can. She hates to sit still, hates to be uninvolved, and loves to learn. I watched her feel how her napkin was folded around the silverware at the Thai place, trying to memorize how to do it herself. She is truly looking forward to the afternoon and the rest of the weekend, meeting Abe's friends and generally enjoying her trip to Oklahoma. From Lafayette. By way of The Valley and Houston. Amazing.

Photo by helena

They went their way and I brought in four of the mini-bell peppers I cut, and thought I'd try one. Well, I've been warned about cross-pollination with the plants being so close together. I kid you not, I bit into a small habanero that looked like a mini-bell. I have never been in such pain in my life. I was so thankful for having read the article on how you need something with fat in it--like milk--to bind with the oil to remove it. I have never before gargled with milk until today. Thankfully it worked. I was here alone so no one got to see my lovely performance. I'm sure it made something laugh.

So now I'm tired and I think I will take a nap before I head out for the pizza party.

Great. A mouse trap just snapped.

Don't Teach Them to Hate It

2011-10-20T20:20:00.000-05:00

“We only do well the things we like doing.”― Colette

"Colette" is another name for common sense, don't you think?

That little quote underlines why it is so important to avoid teaching children to hate reading. Yet it happens year after year after year, and most often to boys because they are not developmentally ready to read when the public school system is ready to teach it. It's like expecting a three-month old to walk and do it well. It's not time. It won't happen. And there could be damage resulting from the effort.

Photo by SteveTaint

I am just a little crazy about this subject because of my personal experience with my two boys.

My firstborn loved letters when he was a toddler. I was completely floored when, at 21 months of age, he began telling me the letters on a Texaco sign; we were stopped at the intersection waiting for a light to change and he had found something to do with himself. At that point I bought some magnetic letters for the fridge and reading was another short couple years around the corner.

Math however, was a totally different issue. I pushed him with the math because he was so good at the reading. HUGE mistake. I should have backed off and let him take his time because he came to dread anything having to do with math. We went round and round about the math he avoided.

One summer he decided to save Kool-Aid points for a walkie-talkie set. I watched--again amazed--as he flipped through empty packets and added up the points in his head. Accurately. He wasn't afraid of Kool-Aid packets the way he was math drills.

Photo by thethegnome54

His brother was drawn to numbers and math, but not words and reading. Thankfully, I'd learned a bit from teaching his brother, and I also had the privilege of reading Better Late Than Early by Dr. Raymond and Dorothy Moore.

It is not an easy thing to be patient when everyone else is worried about progress or lack thereof. I imagine it would have been ten times worse had we not had the opportunity to home school both the boys. But I stuck to my guns and kept telling people to be patient. We had a literature-rich world. We read aloud on a regular basis. We spent long afternoons in the library where he could choose a stack of titles that engaged his interests. He loved books, of course those with pictures. He didn't view reading as a chore or as something he was "bad" at. He wasn't put in a "slow" group or made to feel embarrassed when his ability to read aloud was still shaky.

When he was 9, he discovered the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson and overnight he became an enthusiastic reader.

Today he is sailing through his first semester at college. With good reason, the theory of "once behind, always behind" doesn't hold water with me.

I absolutely shudder to think where we'd be today had he been in public school and not had the luxury of learning to read in the way that was best for him and when he was ready.

Giving a child this time and space is really not a luxury; it is a necessity!

Photo by jwarletta

Reading is so important, so fundamental, such a foundation for the rest of learning that if there was anything I could pass on to other parents it would be this:

Don't let anyone teach your kid to hate reading.

Like I said, it has to be much harder when you're fighting a school system that insists on a now-or-never approach. No one ever stops to think that the reason some kids can't break a fourth-grade reading level is that by then they've learned to hate reading so much that they avoid it an any cost.

I have no experience to draw from to offer advice to parents whose children are in the school system. I'm not sure how one would go about making sure a student wasn't labeled or shamed for not reading when everyone else is. A good start might be to read the book mentioned above and go in armed about why it's crucial to avoid having a child pushed into something s/he isn't ready for developmentally. It would be a tough battle, I'm sure.

Knowing what I know now, I would do whatever was necessary to remove my child from an atmosphere of frustration and failure until s/he was a confident reader, and then consider a return to the public arena if necessary.

Cover Up

2011-10-19T22:36:00.002-05:00

I spent a good chunk of the early evening covering up my plants. The tomatoes are just starting to go red, and while the peppers have slowed down some, they're still producing and I am finally, finally, finally getting plenty little lovely eggplant, and I just can't stand the thought of letting them go this soon.

That just means a week from now I get to do this all over again. And perhaps that will be more than my tarps can handle. Winter seems to be knocking at the door already. I guess it should be surprising considering we started our 100-degree summer in early June.

We actually turned the heat on this morning enough to take the chill out of the air. It will be even colder tonight without any wind. Freeze warnings have been issued for most of the state. We'll see how things fare. My dh left all the "ingredients" to cover the plants; I supposed I shall find out shortly when he gets home whether or not I did it right. If I did, then we will have snow.

I really do need to stop mentioning the "s" word in these posts. Don't want the wrong idea to circulate--that I like the stuff and want it on my doorstep.

Oh, and yes, it was an earthquake we had at 12:50 AM CDT, on October 18, 2011. Only a little 2.9 one, but you know--it's all I need.

I don't have much to offer today. So here's my favorite story of the day:

http://www.kcci.com/r/29528191/detail.html

Enjoy!

I Sabotage My Own Self

2011-10-18T23:36:00.000-05:00

I worked on a project today and thought, hey this would make a neat blog post. So I began to try to figure out how to get it from Word to here. Which proved to be more complicated that it should be, but to be fair, I used lots of text boxes and shapes and some word art. Then my internet access shut down as it does from time to time on this laptop; it's as if I turned off the wireless receiver and nothing but a reboot will get me back where I need to be. So then, being the focused and driven person I am--yeah--I immediately went back to what I was doing before the reboot.

The same way it snowed today.

No, while the computer was rebooting, I rebooted laundry as well, collected everything I needed to go grocery shopping, decided there was no time like the present to go get that chore done, and so....

Here it is, headed down the last 30 minute stretch to deadline and I'm remembering I have a blog post to write. And I have to stop and think to be sure, because it really feels like I worked on one. Which I did. Was that this morning? Or yesterday? Have I missed another day? Click....no....I'm okay if I hurry.

Starting and finishing are two different things aren't they?

Finished!

It's Monday Again

2011-10-17T17:48:00.000-05:00

Really? How did that happen.

The cool front has started blowing through my window and I am going to enjoy a bowl of roasted veggies and pasta, and then I'm headed out the door to a meeting.

I'm supposed to need a coat with the wind chill tomorrow morning when I head out for groceries.

I have wandered around in little garden "patch" and tried to imagine what the area outside my kitchen door will look like when all the plants are dead and gone, and it just makes me sad.

So I stopped doing that and started focusing on making plenty of salsa and pesto to last me through the winter.

Savvy Tenant Kick-Off

2011-10-16T18:58:00.000-05:00

What some may not know is that our family has operated a property restoration and rental business over the past 20+ years. Our philosophy has always been: offer a superior product and you get a superior tenant. We don't operate high-end luxury units, but we have very clean, comfortable and well-maintained duplexes and a house that are quite nice in comparison with other offerings in this area. They are seldom unoccupied for any longer than it takes us to do the make-ready after a tenant vacates the unit. We also live within several blocks of all of our units, so we have a vested interest in doing our part to monitor the neighborhoods and do what we can to keep them maintained and crime-free.

For the most part we have enjoyed first-class tenants, many of them long-term, which is a landlord's dream. Any business, however, is subject to the personality clashes and misunderstandings that come between imperfect people, and we have gotten downright burned so many times by tenants who want to pretend there is no such thing as a lease they have to abide by, the same as we do. I've quit offering "timely" advice; when you remind someone that they obligated themselves to a year lease two months back, now that they've signed a new lease and informed you they are moving in three weeks, they have a tendency to try to "disappear" so that they don't have to deal with the consequences of breach of contract. So we can't tell them. We just have to let them go their merry way and have them served to appear in small claims court.

I understand that people forget. Or perhaps are new to the rental game and don't really understand what's up. So from time to time, I'm going to be offering here some words of wisdom on how to be a savvy tenant.

Let's face it, there are landlords out there who don't want to do a thing except collect rent money--who cares if the place is crawling with bugs or about to fall down around your ears. There are ways to avoid such landlords. There are ways to protect the deposit money you put down. There are ways to be sure you know exactly what sort of place and/or neighborhood you're moving into. A savvy tenant knows these tips and tricks. Good tenants should. Good tenants should be able to 1) find good landlords and 2) protect their money and their sanity while they are tenants.

So stayed tuned and look for "Savvy Tenant" in the title, for posts that deal with this subject.

And in the vein of being of the most help possible, are there any questions or situations you'd like to see addressed? Keeping in mind that nothing in this blog anywhere or at any time can be considered legal advice. It's more like your Mom or your Grandma passing along a little education that they've acquired in the trenches.

Keyboard!

2011-10-15T20:05:00.001-05:00

I am here in Denton, Texas trying out my new Logitech bluetooth keyboard for my iPad.

I love traveling with my iPad. It is so much easier to carry about, especially since my case has a shoulder strap and I can carry it around like a purse. My Noteshelf app allowed me to take notes at my convention today as though I had a pen and paper.

The one drawback was typing. I'm not really fond of the onscreen keyboard on the iPad. I hit too many n's, m's, and b's for spaces and without the feel of keys beneath my fingers--well, it was alot like learning to breathe underwater with a snorkel. I was successful learning to snorkel, but I decided that perhaps a keyboard was in order if I was going to take the iPad to libraries and coffee shops and hotel rooms, especially during NaNo.

Then the keyboards were on sale last week.

I'm loving it!

Am I allowed to say that? Or is that phrase trademarked now? Let me know McDonalds and I'll rephrase if necessary. LOL!

Now I have no excuse left not to get excited about NaNo. :) As if I needed one more.

Under The Gun

2011-10-14T23:49:00.001-05:00

...but done!

My closing thought for the day is this:

Having free will doesn't mean we are free of rules or law. It simply means we are free to abide by or disregard those laws. Nor does having free will mean there are no consequences if we make bad use of our ability to choose to not to obey the law or follow the rules.

Take for instance the law of gravity. If you decide to act in blatant disregard for said law, there will be consequences neither comfortable nor pretty.

You are under the law of your physiology. If you disregard such rules as the need for nourishment or water, you are perfectly free to make that choice, but you cannot escape the consequences of that choice.

You can probably gather this is the end of a discussion. I don't want to fight. But I had more to say.

That was it.

Hah!

2011-10-13T22:00:00.000-05:00

You just thought I'd close you without writing something, didn't you Blogger. Well, you were wrong then, weren't you?

I wish I could settle on one idea for NaNo and get to planning, but I can't. I have too many choices. Which is also why I hate buffets. I have to decide what I want before I ever go look at the spread or I end up spending more time trolling the possibilities than I do enjoying a meal. Buffets aren't a good idea anyway, I know. Though I have learned how to make much smarter choices than I used to AND I'm better at exercising more restraint.

But I'm not writing about food. I'm writing about writing. Or trying to write about writing. You know, I wonder sometimes if someone just assigned me a story to write if I'd do better than trying to figure one out myself. :)

Hey, I think I just figured out my problem.

I'm LAZY!

Just do it. I hear ya, Nike.

Vitamin Issue

2011-10-12T18:16:00.000-05:00

By now I'm sure most people have been tuned into the fact that

Taking Vitamins Kills Women
[Headline By Me]

Okay, over-simplification, over-exaggeration--and perhaps, just perhaps, even in it's most benign and gentle presentation, the information presents a bogus or at least skewed conclusion.

The particular article referenced in the above link says in part:

Women who took supplements had, on average, a 2.4 percent increased risk of dying over the course of the 19-year study, compared with women who didn't take supplements, after the researchers adjusted for factors including the women's age and calorie intake.

Okay, so can we please discuss the "adjustments" made for factors other than age and calorie intake? My goodness. We're dealing with humans, who routinely make innumerable choices in the course of a day, a week, or a year--much less in 19 years, the period over which this study took place.

How it can possibly be ruled out that other behaviors these women shared might be contributing to this 2.4% increased risk of dying?

How many were smokers?
What about hereditary issues?
Good social interaction or lonely?
Optimistic or pessimistic?
Consistent adequate sleep?
Other chronic health conditions?
What prescription medications did they take over the 19-year period???

I heard a story once that I always think of when these anti-vitamin or another pet peeve must-go-to-college-to-earn-more-to-be-happy stories hit the press:

Scientist is experimenting with a frog.
Scientist notes that when he claps, the frog jumps.
Scientists removes frog's hind legs.
Scientist notes that when he claps, frog stays still.
Scientist concludes: When a frog's legs are removed, the frog becomes deaf.

I love my high school English teacher's sage advice:

Believe half of what you read, and even less of what you hear.

-------

Dr. Mark Hyman's article on this subject: Why You Should Not Stop Taking Your Vitamins

Giving Up on Perfection

2011-10-12T17:52:00.001-05:00

Okay, so I missed a day. Boo hiss. Part of me wants to be very depressed and defeated, but then there's this voice that's saying:

Let go of the perfectionism
It doesn't have to be all or nothing
One is better than twenty-one (days missed)

So...

Here's a new start.

And two posts today, just to keep the count up. :)

A Favorite Photo

2011-10-10T21:23:00.002-05:00

Point Wilson Lighthouse, WA

I want to go back.

Afraid I'll Forget

2011-10-09T13:53:00.004-05:00

if I don't do this now. I have a very lazy and unstructured afternoon planned once I get my pork sirloin roast in the oven.

Well, my pepper plants are too used to drought to be able to withstand the rain. :) The peppers and the leaves--lots and lots and lots of green luscious leaves--became so heavy that I lost a good-sized branch off the plant that is producing mini-bells.

My pepper pyramid (or ziggurat; my husband insists it is not a pyramid like my large elevated bed since the sides are not slanted) has been an interesting adventure because when I planted it, I poked all the little labels from the pots into the soil near the plants and then I made a map of what I planted where, and intended to transfer the information to the garden app on my iPod like I had for the rest of the plants I'd put in the ground. Long story short, I threw away the map thinking I had done just that. Then while I was away for a few days my hubby watered the plants so thoroughly that tabs sunk into oblivion. So I got out my trusty iPod, opened up the app to remind myself of which pepper was where, and discovered I'd never transferred the information.

So now I have the great fun of guessing which plants are which. I knew I'd planted Fresno and Santa Fe peppers. Fresno peppers look a great deal like jalepenos, but during the heat of the summer they were most happy to turn the most dazzling red. Of course there are jalepeno plants--some of which I successfully started from seed. I know the top one is a giant poblano. I'm pretty sure I got an orange bell pepper and the mini bell peppers. There's a Thai dragon in there and a habenero and a "Mucho Nacho" jalepeno variety that is supposed to be good for stuffing. And I believe I had some cayenne peppers in there too. Oh, and serranos. Those are easy to recognize.

Anyway, once I discovered the broken limb, I went out and thinned peppers. In the rain. It was great! And dh put together a bamboo prop to keep the plants from bending over too far.

We will be set for peppers through the winter.

Lazy Saturday Evening

2011-10-08T20:48:00.002-05:00

It's been a long time since I've rocked back in the recliner, threw a blanket over my legs because of the cool breeze floating through the open doors and windows and listened to the rain. I managed to get all my out-of-the-house stuff done before the rain started in earnest. Spent a little time with the family watching OU play football (to put it mildly), then went to my Sign Language meeting and a dear friend dropped me off at the door just in time to pull boxes off the front porch (writing books!) before they got dowsed.

My peppers, tomatoes, basil, chives, parsley, beets and eggplant are quietly cheering. I'm sure that's what I heard.

I decided to celebrate too and took a nap.

And now I'm going to sip tea and read. A dear friend gave me some Hawaiian coffee that I'm dying to try but I'm being good and waiting till tomorrow morning so that I'm not up all night.

This is being rich. It doesn't take as much money as it does contentment and gratitude.

My Idol

2011-10-07T21:59:00.001-05:00

He never quit.

Thank you, Mr. Schultz.

Thursday Kitchen Tips

2011-10-06T23:20:00.001-05:00

Two things I've learned this week:

This first one will not appeal if you don't like oriental food and/or if you don't like cilantro. I find cilantro is something that people either really, really like or really, really hate. I personally fall into the first category. To each his own.

I learned that...

1/2 bunch of cilantro, stems & leaves

2 tablespoons oyster sauce

3 cloves of garlic

1/2 teaspoon of salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

popped into the food processor and processed until it becomes a paste makes an excellent marinade for chicken. I put it and 8 chicken legs in a bag and marinade for several hours then bake in a 400 degree F oven for about 35 - 40 minutes.

I also learned that...

my love of the India Paint variety of eggplant is reaffirmed. This variety is a perfect fit for me.

I grow the plants in containers. The lavender blooms are gorgeous. The 4" round fruit, streaked purple and white, is a perfect single-serving package. Since I'm the only one in my family that enjoys it, that fact alone has won it a permanent place in my garden. The plants didn't produce at all through the wicked heat of the summer, but with careful watering they did survive. Once it started to cool off, they went nuts. Along with my peppers and tomatoes. One way I like to prepare the eggplant:

Peal and cut the eggplant into eighths. (the smaller ones. I might cut a larger eggplant a bit smaller so that the size of the eggplant, onion and tomato is about the same)

Peel and cut a similar size onion into eighths.

Peel and cut two similar size tomatoes into eighths.

Add one or two chopped Serrano peppers (or any other pepper of choice, mild or hot)

I do one of each vegetable for myself. It's simple to add more for more people.

Mix all in a bowl with about 1 tablespoon olive oil. Put in a baking dish uncovered (or if you're doing a larger quantity, spread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. I line mine with foil and spray it with cooking spray). Sprinkle with sea salt and roast in a 400 degree F oven until the eggplant is soft when tested with a fork, I think about 30 minutes, depending on the size/quantity.

Yummy stuff. Eggplant out of the garden has a flavor I've never found in one I bought from a store.

Family Time

2011-10-05T23:47:00.002-05:00

What is your favorite way to spend time with your family?

Singing tenor.

Ten-or eleven miles away.

Just kidding.

I guess it really depends on which family.

My immediate family (hubby and two sons) isn't together all that often anymore. When the guys were little my favorite thing to do as a family was float down the Illinois River and wonder what disaster was going to befall us next. We had some pretty interesting adventures. Number one son won a small college scholarship writing an essay about surviving such a trip with his dad. It won a Field and Stream contest and was printed in the magazine. And my husband loves pointing out that my son was published in a national magazine and that I'm supposed to be the writer in the family. But that's another post entirely, right?

Now with my parents, sisters and brother--we're low key. We like to have a meal, catch up, maybe take a walk down to the pond. Or take a quiet vacation somewhere close. Tall Grass Prairie, Quartz Mountain, Keystone cabins. My folks weren't much for camping in the great wild unknown. We played a lot of Frisbee on the front lawn ate on the picnic table in the backyard and made periodic trips to grandparents' houses. Lots of fond memories there.

My hubby's family--a complete 180. There is always something going on with them. Baseball, football, badminton, basketball, bicycles, walking, swimming. Then after that, inevitably cooking, cleaning, taking pictures and last, but certainly never, ever least, playing cards, specifically pitch. My favorite thing to do: watch them have fun. After 20-odd years I have finally gotten a loose grip on pitch but I would still much rather watch them and listen to the chatter.

Boiled down to a sentence: my favorite way to spend time with my family is remembering the good times and anticipating the memories yet to be made and making the very most of the times when we are together.

Write On!

2011-10-04T21:21:00.002-05:00

Today's NaBloWriMo prompt: What advice would you give your fifteen-year-old self?

Yeah, you know, you're starting to come into your own. You're starting to understand that just because people decide to promote an idea (such as "if you wear green on Thursday you're gay) doesn't mean a thing and doesn't even mean that you have to play along. Yeah, I know, it's easier to just not wear green on Thursday and avoid all the nasty chatter it engenders, and that's okay for now. Understanding that it's all smoke and mirrors is a good start. But later, maybe, you can wear green from head to toe and a picture of your tall and gorgeous and honest-to-goodness real-life boyfriend around your neck at the same time. In your face. But you aren't ready for that yet and really, that's okay. There are enough of the in-your-face types out there already. The world doesn't really need another one. But you need to keep getting a handle on you--what you think, believe, your goals, dreams, and plans, your opinions, what's important to you. Following the crowd that doesn't care if you're in it or not is not a serious life goal and nothing really worth doing.

Ah, but the boyfriend. Ah...I know it's cool to be chosen and loved because of who you are, not because you're a daughter or a sister, but because you love the Carpenters and walks in the pasture and writing and because you both have parents who seem just a little nuts, and because you have a common spiritual basis on which to build a relationship. And your families are crazy about each other, both of them displaced Yankees in a sea of Okie madness, but enjoying the calm and easy way about life in the heart of the country composed to the coast.

He's a worthy individual. An upstanding young man. But he's an imperfect human. There are things going on in that family that scar him and he won't talk about it but it is going to affect every relationship he has. And the thing is, he's not going to talk about it with you. He can't. Not yet. Your "life together" is on such a sandy, shifting foundation, that it's not going to last. Not because you aren't giving it your all, but because he is holding back and doesn't know how to let go and be honest about the demons.

And so pull back. Not because he's bad for you or isn't a good man underneath all the oniony layers. But because it's keeping you from learning how to stand by yourself on your own two feet. Alone. Because you have to go through some of this life that way. There will seem to be no one and nothing and if you have a strong sense of yourself, you will enjoy the solitude and the chance to grow instead of feeling empty and forgotten and needy. Heartache isn't best cured by a new love. It's best cured by understanding that anything can be a bridge across instead of a place to drown, a stepping stone rather than a stumbling block. But that is so hard to hold on to if you don't know who you are.

Don't stop writing!!! It's how you're going to figure out all that stuff. If you do it now--delve into who and what you are, spend time on and with yourself--then you won't need to spend years figuring out why you're stuck in a situation that makes you scared or depressed or desperate. You'll know what kind of people are worth taking care of because they take care of those important things inside you that make you who and what you are. And sweetheart, yes, there are things you will learn need to be changed and improved, but you come from good and sturdy stock and what you have inside in loyalty, kindness, compassion and patience--there is more there to build upon than there is that needs to be plucked out and thrown away. People need individuals like you who assume the best of them first. People live up to expectations, and you give them a beautiful opportunity to do just that. Do not think more of yourself than is necessary to think, is the admonition. But it is completely and totally necessary to think of yourself and know your value. Writing will help you do that. Don't stop.

Lastly, I know your family seems crazy and impossible, but look beyond that. There is your haven, no matter how imperfect. Yes, they started out loving you simply because you are genetically connected but they will end up loving you best because they have loved you longest. They will always be there for you and it will be the greatest privilege in your life to be there for them as well. Your crazy family is intact, complete, and in that alone is becoming more and more unique as families around you collapse and fragment. The fight that your parents won to stay together despite the difficulties and the differences is a legacy you will thank them for when your kids are part of a complete and close nuclear family. So don't be so hard on them. Look for the good qualities. They are there.

Yes, you hate a lecture and this is way too long, but revisit from time to time. You'll understand that I know what I'm talking about.

I'm Showing Up

2011-10-03T17:22:00.000-05:00

But that may be all I do.

The funny thing is I think of things to write about all day long, but when I sit down to write them they sound trite or stupid or utterly unreadable, so here I am two days into October still with nothing to say. I've forgotten 750words also. Two playgrounds on which to exercise and I just want to climb to the top of the monkey bars (do they even have them any more?), sit out of reach and watch everyone else do fantastic things.

Odd thing is what I really, really want to do is character sketches for NaNo. So why, why, why do I decide that's not blog-worthy or 750word worthy. Because I want to draw it--mindmaps, cork boards something funky and fun, but then I'm afraid I'll forget where I did them and spend untold hours searching. It happens to me because, as a friend told me recently, I am vintage. As opposed to old.

I guess because need to just get busy. Sit down and do it whether I like it or not.

And I will. Tomorrow.

Tonight

2011-10-02T21:35:00.002-05:00

Here I am in my usual recliner, listening to my husband and son discuss football, but only while a bunch of people are singing about five-dollar foot-longs and then describe cars or hock television shows. The guys will stop the conversation in mid-sentence when the nighttime shot of some large city appears on the screen just before zeroing back in on the action on the field.

Then the dominant sounds are the incessant drone of the announcers and the whispered rattle and crunch of popcorn.

Fall is here.

The evenings are deliciously cool, with soft gentle breezes that make me want to curl up in a blanket right beside an open window and let my mind wander among the stars for a bit before my body turns off, and my mind is free to wander unrestrained. Story people play on stages in the twilight in between and I wish sometimes they would bloom in dreams that I would remember, but they never have.

My plants outside the kitchen door are going nuts. The peppers are as tall as I am and one Solar Flare tomato plant has taken over the big pyramid. I have to hunt for my parsley, chives and basil amongst all the fragrant tomato leaves.

Hubby is starting a job tomorrow and I am going to revel in a schedule and in fall. I have always loved this time of year.

Hellooooo 10/1

2011-10-01T00:38:00.001-05:00

I'm supposed to be getting up in six hours which means I'm not doing so hot with my goal of getting more sleep this month.

But I want to hit the ground running because hubby finally has a job. And I have stuff I'm going to do that I can't seem to get done when he's in semi-retired mode.

Anyway, welcome to NaBloWriMo month. If you want to check it out here, then follow on Facebook from the link there.

Digital v Print Books

2011-09-20T10:01:00.001-05:00

For what it's worth: When the digital edition of a book is more expensive than the print counterpart, I WILL NOT buy digital. Period. For any reason whatsoever. Any questions? :)

Seriously, how can a digital copy be more expensive to create and distribute than an paper-and-ink book? Perhaps I need an education. It just sounds like more profit going to someone, somewhere instead of giving the consumer a break for a change. Likely the author isn't getting better royalties either, which I wouldn't mind quite so much.

However, this would not be the first time I've been wrong, so please--give me or point me to a valid explanation that justifies how a digital book could cost more to make and distribute than a print publication.

I still reserve the right to agree with said explanation. :)

2011-09-14T15:05:00.005-05:00

There is no such thing as an insignificant life. Simple day-to-day events are important because they shape who we are and then ripple. Our stories are more than just ourselves.

Wanted!

2011-08-24T22:22:00.000-05:00

Critique partners who love to read a little bit of everything: picture books, young adult (mainstream contemporary--I am NOT into the magic, paranormal, vampire, zombie stuff), short stories, women's fiction, non-fiction books, articles for children, and anything else I might find I want to try my hand at. Likewise I'd be willing to read just about everything, though I have to say I would stick with the "NOT" category above, because I just don't know how I could fairly critique genres that I avoid.

In my ideal world, I would make up a group of four and together we'd figure out a tweakable system that would suit us for keeping each other accountable and trading WIP for feedback.

Just throwing that out there to see what happens. :)

It's That Time of Year

2011-08-23T22:36:00.000-05:00

My baby started college today.

True Story

2011-08-03T23:19:00.001-05:00

My son and my husband spent hours--and I do mean hours--today on beautifying our four-wheeled means of locomotion. Actually, my car got a quick yet thorough wash and rinse so the bird stuff wouldn't eat away at the paint. My son's -- the sports car -- got a wash and wax job that left the buggy gleaming and gorgeous.

As my son drove away to check in with a friend, clouds began to gather.

When he got back about half an hour later, I got a severe weather alert text on my phone.

Yes, folks. In the middle of what was to be the hottest day yet (and ever we were hoping--just get it over and done with!), we got thunderclouds and spit on by rain. Didn't do a whole lot for the temperatures but it was a nice change from relentless afternoon glare.

I'm making them wash the cars every day as soon as we get back from Texas on Monday just to see if they can make more clouds. Could it be that a car wash is the new rain dance?

Ugg!

2011-08-02T15:22:00.003-05:00

100 degrees at 8:30 am.

Just sayin'.

I haven't dared look at the thermometer since. This is just brutal.

Hi!

2011-08-01T16:20:00.001-05:00

Okay here it is mysteriously August already.

Camp NaNoWriMo is supposed to start for me today, so I got up early and I went to 750words.com and I knocked out half the day's word count total and you know what? I did it in my sleep because I could barely tell you what I typed.

However, let me say, if you like to write and/or want to develop a daily writing habit, and you have not tried http://www.750words.com, you really should. Based on Julia Cameron's famous morning pages and the fact that an average typed page contains 250 words (manuscript pages, 12-point font, double spaced), one really super human being decided to set up this web site that lets you log on and do your daily 750 words (totally private--it is NOT a blog) and then it does all these nifty things like gives you badges and keeps a tally of all the words you've written and how long your longest streak without missing a day was, and even does a little analysis of your writing to let you track different aspects of your life and your writing. It even lets you record metadata within your 750 words so you can keep track of things you might want to track. I am explaining nothing very well here, so go check it out. As soon as dh is back to work, I will probably become a "patron" because this site has done me a world of good and I will be sad if it ever has to disappear.

So onward! I have another 800+ words to go for today, so I think I'll go see what I did (or didn't) accomplish this morning.

Time to Come Home

2011-06-05T22:13:00.000-05:00

Life has been in a pretty constant state of turmoil since Mom's cancer diagnosis. And of course the first thing I stop doing is the thing that probably would have done me the most good. But I hate whiney blogs and I felt whiney and depressed and otherwise incapable of producing anything worth reading. Still, sometimes the effort is what counts. I can always write and delete.

So I'm going to try to come back. Short, sweet, upbeat posts. Vitamins for my mental health. Hope it's not too late. :)

Trippin' on Tuesday: Don't Take It Sitting Down

2011-02-22T10:00:00.000-06:00

Question of the day:

If sitting for more than six hours a day is seriously detrimental to our health, what are we doing to our children when we lengthen school days, take away summer vacation, and build schools that don't have playgrounds.

I vote for getting kids out from behind a desk and letting learning take place in arenas where children are actively participating.

Easy? No. It will take a lot of re-thinking the standard approach to school.

Is it possible? Only if we dream it can be so.

I was fortunate to be able to teach my children at home, and they know that learning takes place everywhere and anywhere and should only stop when your brain does. I wish every child knew that.

There are times that listening to a lecture constitutes learning, and passing the test the next week is proof. There are also times when painting a tool shed with Dad constitutes learning (how much paint to buy, who has the best price, what kind will withstand the weather best and why) and having a newly painted shed is proof that lasts beyond the moment.

Let's aim not for the education of our children, but that their love of learning be rooted deeply where it will stay with them throughout their lives, not just until the formal schooling is finished.

Full Moon Friday

2011-02-18T22:55:00.001-06:00

If I don't put this in writing, I will wonder if I dreamed it.

At noon today, I heard a brief report on the local news about a security guard getting stabbed at our local Target store, the one where my son works. I was so happy that he was house sitting at his brother's and getting his algebra finished. See--algebra can be a protection! I wonder if I can get him to swallow that one.

However, he did go to work at 5:00 this evening. I felt uneasy watching him go but told myself I was being silly.

Maybe not.

He just got home about an hour ago and is still on the phone talking with his friends about just how crazy his night was.

First off, the security guard was stabbed by a shoplifter. The video on the evening news report showed three people leaving the store with boxes, the guard in plain clothes running after them. He managed to get them to drop the electronic equipment they were trying to get away with and was headed back into the store when one of the thieves--a girl--came back with a knife and attacked him in the small area between the outer exit doors and the inner ones.

The three then jumped in a car and took off, but were followed by a police officer who happened to be in the parking lot. They used a maneuver to disable the car and the thieves took off one foot. One of them, a girl, was arrested and charged, and the other two--another female and a male--are still at large.

Wait a second, I'm going to go make sure my doors are locked.

The saga continues. According to ds, stories like this apparently alert other shoplifters that this particular store is probably short on security. Management brought in additional security from other stores anticipating just that scenario. There were three other shoplifting attempts, yielding two arrests--mothers with babies in strollers, believe it or not.

On top of that--with everyone in the store on edge--they had a bus load of about 15 girls, 10-15 years old, come in on a scavenger hunt. Who scavenger hunts at Target???? At one point these girls were dancing arm in arm down the aisle between electronics and the toy section.

Another guy went into a diabetic shock but before he passed out he went eerily and very scary crazy on them.

Then they had girls who were trying on hot pink sports bras and walking through the store wearing them on the outside of their clothing. The girls were with their mothers.

The good news: the security guard is going to be fine. He even came back to the store later--the incident happened at around 9:30 this morning. He was stabbed once in each shoulder, however, which is probably going to take him out of the Target employee ping pong competition going on in that store, and he was in top place.

Oh, then totally unrelated but entirely weird, my sister's husband went to have his gall bladder taken out today and it was embedded in his liver. They had to cut the liver to get it out, he lost a lot of blood, and so he and my sister instead of being in and out of the hospital in a few hours are staying overnight. My sister said she begged for some of the morphine they were giving him, but was denied. She's blaming it on budget cuts. LOL!

The moon is full. Don't try telling me tonight that there is no connection between that and lunacy! Pun intended.

Practicing Living in a Strange New World

2011-02-16T23:58:00.002-06:00

We all know those defining moments. The kind that open, then push a saga. Or the epiphany that wraps up a quest. We readers crave them in the stories we read. Expert writers string pearls of them together, and we finger them with our minds as we turn page after page.

The moments consist of such ordinary things. Like a girl's night out designed for many things: opportunity to vent, heart-to-heart conversation and a push toward that necessary topic, that "thing" in the back of our minds that concerns each and every one of us. This is our opportunity to face it with the strength of numbers. We've pushed to the back burner several times, attempted one-on-one conversations that sputtered and died. But finally fear sits there on the table along with the shrimp and the linguine and we look at it hard for a moment, but over dessert we allow it to melt into the satisfaction of achieving forward motion. Resolution.

Normalcy ends there. In just a few short days our world is transformed, filled with mile-long words, gut-churning dread, and that voice that accuses us: This is what you wanted!!

The future lies, however, not in cowering, but in the embrace of the good that still exists despite the jolting lurch into the unfamiliar. There are still days warm with the promise of spring. birds taking joyful baths in bathtub temperature water. Good food. Close family. All these things are still the same, and will remain the same, even as our personal worlds turn cold or threatening or sad. The trick is not to lose the balance. Not to be so sucked into the microcosm of me/us that we forget to look outward, far and wide, to take in all the wonder that continues to unfold all around us.

The time to practice living is now. Because life is now. And where there is life, there is love. And love believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, and it never fails because it never stops. It lifts us up above the fear and the dread and the unimaginable, and carries us through just like it has those who came before us, and will carry those who follow when their familiar tumbles into a moment that opens up a strange new world.

What is the Title?

2011-02-13T22:49:00.000-06:00

Here's the list

sunshine
lemon
mustard
saffron
ivory
cream
harvest-moon
dun
amber
citron
canary
gold
buff
sand
antique lace
honey
jonquil
sunflower
manila
No. 2 pencil

And the post title should be.........?

Hello Friday!

2011-02-11T22:27:00.000-06:00

Where did you come from? I went to bed last night and it was Tuesday. Wasn't it? I guess not.

What a beautiful day it turned out to be. 40+ felt almost balmy. I was able to go to An Affair of the Heart and leave the coat in the car. Woot! I hope we had our last snow storm for the winter.

Yesterday morning we set all kinds of records for low temperatures, but the winner was in Nowata where it hit an all-time record low for Oklahoma of -31 degrees (F).

By next Wednesday, the predicted high is 75 degrees.

Do the math! That's over 100 degrees difference in temperature in the space of about a week.

I can't write an interesting post to save my life.

Pondering Rambles

2011-02-10T22:31:00.000-06:00

I've probably wondered this before, and maybe even "out loud" here. It's a question I've been mulling over today.

Everywhere around me I see cycles. My own, being female, water cycles, seasonal cycles, day and night. Cycles and patterns.

Some aren't as easy to see. It takes a greater degree of concentration and study to recognize them, like say fractals and galaxy clusters.

What I'm wondering about is my creativity cycle. Is there one?

This is a problem for me because I am one to let things unfold. I believe that a lot of life is like fruit: it will ripen in it's time and if you do anything to hurry it along, then you might not end up with what you wanted. I can wait out just about anything, and while it drives the drivers crazy--heh, heh--I find my pace a lot less harried. I like it that way.

So when I hit periods like this when I really, really just don't seem to be able to write much of anything worthwhile, what should I do? Press through, force it? Or enjoy the rest.

Play the pauses.

There is something to be said about rest. White space. Emptiness. They have a place in most types of art. So when I'm struggling with the writing like I am now, do I play the pause? Do I have the confidence in my creativity to allow it a period of rest so it can come to life with renewed vigor? Or will it stay in better shape if I make it stay active, put it through its paces, no matter what?

I do know myself well enough to understand that winter is not a good time of year for me. I miss the sun. I miss being outside. I do not tolerate the cold well. I have to put forth effort to do the most mundane things, or I'd be a hibernating hermit from December through February. When I focus on being positive, the winter months are not nearly as dark and cold as they would otherwise be.

So there is something to be said for not just sitting on your hands and wishing things were better.

I am showing up everyday for morning writing. Most of the time I fill three 8 1/2 x 11 inch pieces of college ruled paper with everything from practice to purging. Some mornings I have to turn it into a timed drill just so I can get out the door early. But I think there's only been three or four mornings that I've missed since the beginning of 2011.

That is going to be what keeps me primed for when the juices really begin flowing again. Last year I stayed in dormancy clear up till November. I don't want that to happen again.

So while it doesn't feel like I'm being as productive as I would like to be, maybe I should just let the pattern play out until I find a new and more satisfying groove.

I sure would love to NaNo in November, rest in December, revise January through April, begin the submission process and then start preparations for November again so that I have a framework to hang a story on. But it's never happened, not even when I have the draft printed out the first week in December.

So perhaps it might be a better use of my time to pause. Practice. And start revision work in the spring and let it take me through to the fall around September, when I can start on the next NaNo prospect.

Or maybe I should quit boring you to tears and take myself off to bed. Yeah.

I Think I've Peaked....

2011-02-08T23:54:00.000-06:00

I just spent the last hour or so reading old blog posts. From (gulp) seven years ago!

First I am so glad to have them, and it may help me blog more just to record the events of my life as they happen. Not the huge things that are easy to remember but the little things that sometimes I wonder if I remember them accurately, or my mind is exaggerating to make a good story. My blog is proof that one day I did take seven hours out of my day--on the spur of the moment--to go shopping with my older son. I remember that day, and I remember it was a long one, but I didn't remember that it was seven hours and I didn't remember everything we did that day. Then I read the post. What a gift.

Second I'm a little sad that I seem to have been writing so much better and much more prolifically back then. The prompts I was using were ones I'd make up for my writing group when we had a regular weekly workshop online. I'd make up a month of prompts and post them on a calendar on my website, and then I'd use them!! When did I stop generating prompt ideas, much less the little slice-of-life short, shorts that I wrote using those prompts? I know when. Perhaps a better question would be why? Why did I have time for it then and not now?

I'm not just a little sad. I miss it. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever get it back, or maybe that was the peak. The fighter in my is squawking like crazy with phrases like "only if you let it!" and "stop being so negative!" while another, tired part of me is saying, "at least you had a peak and you can enjoy it now."

I think I need spring.

Friday Fun: Flurries

2011-02-04T23:31:00.002-06:00

Yeah, there was lots, and lots and lots of flurries today. From 7:30 in the morning till around 4:00 this afternoon. It was more like snow than flurries. But this time they weren't coming down horizontally. They were an interesting combination of the tiny flakes, that my grandmother always said were deceptive in their ability to accumulate, and the big fluffy one that makes me wonder if the earthquakes yesterday (itty bitty but loud at 2.5) were really a cosmic hand putting the snow globe back on the table.

I had an easy day today. DS finally got out of the house and off to see his buddy nearby. He had a ridiculous case of cabin fever and it was driving me crazy. Neither of my kids would do well stuck out in a farmhouse in the country. It's easy here, with friends and stores and movies nearby, to be out and about, and in that, they are truly "city folk." Being cooped up too long is tough on them.

Photo by chrissi

Today I started reading a book that I have had on hand for a length of time that I can in no way measure. Whatever the measure it would be too long to be sitting on a shelf when I could have been using it. My morning pages, while consistent, have not felt productive. That could be because I'm in limbo as to whether they are morning pages or writing practice, but I've decided--in that rebellious nature of mine--that I can choose for myself what they're going to be. It can be either, depending on my mood in the morning. Or both, if that's what I want to do. Either serves to get my writing life in gear.

Anyway, the book is by Judy Reeves and is called A Writer's Book of Days. Heh, I can hear someone saying, "You're just now finding that one?" Yes. And I am so excited! Definitely a "better late than never" discovery.

February is focusing on paying attention. Some of my favorite quotes so far:

The truth is in the details.
There is ecstasy in paying attention. (Anne Lamott)
Honour the miraculousness of the ordinary. (Andrew Motion)

The last one is my favorite.

This is something that I need to work on in so many ways.

I decided earlier in the year that I needed to be more mindful about simply living. What I eat, why I eat it, what I need to do, want to do, how to make progress in the direction of my goals and dreams. I have to stop sailing through the days on auto pilot and pay attention, or I'm not going to have a more organized house, or a healthier body, or solid spiritual accomplishments. Eat to live mindfully became my rather garbled mantra. "Eat" can include physical, mental, or spiritual nourishment and regardless of how I want to apply it, I want to pay attention to how and what I'm "eating" so as to move forward instead of staying stagnant or falling farther behind where I need to be.

When it comes to writing, this concept applies in a large way. It's one of my weakest areas and is probably why I admire books by Anne Rivers Siddons in particular. There are many authors who do this well, but she come to mind first, because I end up being able to put myself in her stories so easily. I see, hear, smell, taste what the characters are experiencing. The words she chooses paint a very specific setting for the story to move through, and I am there.

I do not think in pictures. It's a hard concept to get across, but Lindsey over at The Office of Letters and Light explained it well in a post-NaNo blog post that I cannot find again. (It felt good not to be alone! Always does.) As a result, these concrete details often escape my notice, and as a result, my stories could take place just about anywhere. There is no detail to root them in a setting unless I pay specific attention to incorporating those details. Sounds like February is offering me the opportunity to hone that skill, and I'm anxious to get started.

Paralyzed

2011-02-03T20:27:00.000-06:00

I know if I could just get started, I'd be fine. But I can't get started!!! AAAARRRRGGGGG! What is going on? Someone somewhere give me an assignment! :)

Trippin' on Tuesday: Tunnel Vision

2011-02-01T22:28:00.000-06:00

As I come to the end of the day, I find it interesting that I don't have a clue what happened in Egypt today. And it's not necessarily a lack of interest as it is a universal truth that humans can only concentrate on one thing at a time.

The thing that gets that attention is going to be what strikes closest to home.

On Monday, every time I caught a news report, there was something being said about the situation in Egypt.

Once we got past the national news on Monday night, Egypt faded out of our picture. The focus was on our skies, and being prepared to be stuck inside for a few days.

We have a foot of snow on the ground. The wind was like something alive, trying to slam its way into the house. By the time I finally got in bed last night, all you could see of the house across the street was the light on by the door. The rest was a haze of swirling, blowing snow. The drifts of course are impressive.

Turn on the TV at any point during the day, I could pretty much count on tuning into a weather update, or probably more accurately put: continuing coverage of the swirling snow and howling wind and the wisdom--for those not inclined to figure it out on their own--of not getting out on the streets.

I slept through the national news tonight. Here's to catching up on Egypt--and envying the warmth and sunshine there--tomorrow.

Just Sayin'

2011-01-31T21:00:00.000-06:00

It's not about what we have. It's about what we don't owe. :)

Just read a super article with some simple but powerful financial advice. Check it out!

We're about to get hammered with a blizzard, so I won't be able to go anywhere for a day or two. Provided we don't lose power, I may get caught up with plans for posts again! Hated missing, but this past week was a hard-hitter. Got back to morning pages today, hope to follow with the rest of the writing routine, because I need to get grounded again.

Write on.

Saturday School: Grapefruit Because...

2011-01-22T11:12:00.000-06:00

They start out growing clustered like grapes.

Wednesday Writing Tip: Chapters, Part Three

2011-01-19T22:10:00.000-06:00

Part One: A Rebel Checks out the Rules
Part Two: Still Chewin' on Chapters

As mentioned previously, a novel chapter should center around one main event or a single element, no matter how many scenes it contains. For the chapter to be relevant to the protagonist’s primary goal, it will develop an immediate goal that must be achieved first.

However, the chapter will not necessarily end with the achievement of that goal. Perhaps it will stop before a conclusion is reached, so the the reader continues to find out what happens. Failure can force the protagonist to choose another path, and lead the reader to turn the page to find out what that alternate path will be.

Tension can be built throughout a chapter by increasing the stakes. Ask yourself how you can give your character more to lose. Or make time an issue--the equivalent of a ticking bomb. If your chapter can build to a crescendo, then stop at the top, this won’t be the chapter that gets the bookmark.

Sometimes, your reader needs a rest. Remember the opening of Raiders of the Lost Ark? It was one surprise event after another that put the poor professor in imminent peril. But by the time the first five minutes were up, I was exhausted and ready for a break in the action. Books can be the same. So you can use a new chapter for a sequel: the character is pressed to find new answers to the story problems, new ways to reach the goal. Sequels, skillfully done with vivid word pictures and plenty of forward momentum, will deliver a low-key, yet engaging opportunity for the reader to catch a breath--along with the protagonist--and be ready to tackle the next adventure. Again, the pages keep turning.

Some will say that chapters are mini-stories, with a beginning, middle and end. I can’t say I’m convinced that’s true. Sometimes chapters need to stop in the middle and end on down the road. A chapter can start out answering a story problem from a previous chapter, then introduce a new one. Still when you examine chapters, they do have a logical flow; it needs to knit together into a cohesive whole. If you pogo-stick through the story, bouncing so erratically that your reader can’t follow, then your chapter isn’t going to be effective.

I like to have a complete manuscript before I start deciding on chapter placement, and even when I'm combining scenes into chapters, I never completely do away with my single-scene segments. You never can tell when you’ll have a light-bulb moment and decide that a particular scene is better woven in somewhere else. So I would suggest combining scenes into chapters in a new document. (Easily done in Liquid Story Binder.)

If I remember correctly The Marshall Plan for Novel Writing had some good advice on chapter breaks, scenes and sequels, and how to weave in a secondary story line to create momentum. I think it’s time for me to dig that book out again and refresh my memory.

Next week: We'll wrap up the chapter tips examining how chapters lengths can be manipulated to achieve particular goals.

Trippin' on Tuesday: Why?

2011-01-18T11:32:00.000-06:00

Why are grapefruit called grapefruit when they in no way resemble grapes?

At least they are fruit...

Blast from the Past: Susie

2011-01-17T23:56:00.007-06:00

When it comes to my first pet, I often forget Susie, but I shouldn't. If she wasn't a dog and she wasn't long dead, she'd never forget me.

Susie was an Airedale and as I remember it she belonged to my Dad's brother Steven. However, Steven wasn't always home, and at the time I imagine their parents--my grandparents--were often traveling as well. So there were stretches of time in my young life when Susie would become mine. And when my sisters came along, ours.

In my mind I can hear my Mom telling people what a good-natured dog she was and I do remember using her as a pillow to watch TV. Not just me either. Imagine three little girls resting on a doggie-belly pillow. Susie didn't seem to mind one bit.

She also loved pancakes. Mom would sometimes make pancakes for us on the weekends when Dad was home for breakfast. Once the family had their fill, rather than throw the leftover batter away, she'd make one last--usually oversized--pancake for Susie, who stood patiently beside the stove through the entire cooking time for her turn.

Then when I was almost nine, we sold our home and moved in for a year with my Mom's father. I imagine Susie was home with my Dad's parents in Chestnut Hill then. There aren't many details of that year-long stretch that I remember well, other than winning a chocolate bar for a story I wrote, my sister Jill making us pop-tarts for breakfast and receiving my first diary. I wasn't sure where Susie was, and I guess because of her habit of appearing and disappearing at the whim of someone else.

When that year was up, we were poised to move to Oklahoma. Dad left in March to go buy our house that he and Mom bought over the phone (a story for another day) and get a job, making sure all was ready for when the rest of us would join him in June. He needed someone to keep him company. Going from a wife and three daughters to being a bachelor was a little much for any man. Plus Steven was planning a permanent move to Japan. Susie moved to Oklahoma with my Dad to pave the way for us and for a time when she would be completely ours, all the time.

I religiously read Little House books during those three months Dad was in Oklahoma. I often would imagine Susie running wild and free through the acres and acres and acres of land. Dad wrote detailed letters home, sent pictures and there was Susie, looking like she belonged. Going from the danger and noise of living in the Philadelphia suburbs to a place where three houses occupied a square mile had to be fantastic for a dog who could finally run wherever she wanted whenever she wanted and not worry about getting hit by a car.

However, Susie had to have been an old dog by then, judging from the pictures of myself and her when I was a toddler. I was a month away from 10 when we landed in Oklahoma, so Susie was well probably into her 70s by then. I don't remember exactly how long it was after the move, but she got sick, and it turned into pneumonia which took her life. I felt bad that Dad had to be all by himself when he buried her out on the Oklahoma prairie.

Simply Sunday: Quote

2011-01-16T10:00:00.001-06:00

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”
― Louis L’Amour

Saturday School: Are We at the Mercy of What We've Created?

2011-01-15T23:54:00.000-06:00

Every time I come to one of these realizations that sometimes brighten the nether regions of my mind--such as it is--I wonder how many other people have already thought them and I just haven't listened or haven't met them or haven't had the opportunity to hear them express the thought and say, "Hey, I thought the same thing!"

The point? Okay...

There are countless sci-fi movies and books in which people create a robot or a machine that goes on to develop a will and a life of its own, much to the detriment of the creators.

It's not a thing of fiction, folks. It's here and it's called money.

Simply put at Answers.com paper money as we know it (or fiat--French for fake as it is technically called) came about when for example a person needed plowing done and had corn to sell. But the person who had the plow and could do the work didn't need corn. He needed potatoes. If the person with the corn can find someone who wants it and will exchange it for money, the person needing the plowing can then give the money to the plower who can use it to buy potatoes and you have three people satisfied instead of no one.

Makes perfect sense.

So fast-fast-fast forward to today and goodness gracious. In 2009 Zimbabwe removed 12 zeros from its currency so that $1 trillion Zimbabwe dollars became $1 dollar after an inflation rate of 231 million percent. Understand that $1 trillion Zimbabwe dollars wouldn't even buy a loaf of bread.

No one living in the US needs to be told that money has too many people by the throat. Especially when it comes to paying for health care. With doctors and surgeons so eager to prescribe or cut in order to "cure" and at tremendous prices, in one swoop a life of careful saving can be reduced to bankruptcy. It was absolutely astonishing to me that there was an argument over whether or not Medicare should pay for a cancer treatment that runs $93,000 that does not cure, but extends a person's life by four months. I whole-heartedly agree that you can't put a dollar figure on life. Realistically though, who can earn $93,000 in four months? Few can pay for that kind of care, but somehow we expect that other paper dollars pooled with ours will manage it. Is money dictating the course of things? In the end those "having" now--are they stealing from those who need later?

Then there's the problems that arise from money that exists in theory only. Stock prices. Home values. I found a simple and yet startling explanation in Marilyn Vos Savant's column in the January 18 2009 issue of Parade magazine:

Investors recently lost a large amount of money. But if others were not enriched by the same amount, where did the money go? —O. Slavinsky, Kansas City, Mo.
Much of that so-called lost money never existed. Here’s an example: Suppose you buy stock in a $1 million company at $1 a share. A year later, nothing has changed at the company, but the stock is trading at $100 a share.

You believe your stock is now worth $100 a share. So do all the other investors: Your brokerage statements indicate that your holdings are worth $100 multiplied by the number of shares you own.

But when you add up all this stock ownership, you see that a company worth $1 million now appears to be worth $100 million only because the last share of stock sold at a high price. This makes no sense, but the figure is commonly used to describe a company’s theoretical value. (It’s called market capitalization or “market cap.”)

Now, say the price plummets to $1 a share. Suddenly, the company is worth $1 million again. Where did that $99 million go? Nowhere. It never existed in the first place.

Look at all the grief and heartache that have been suffered by people whose houses' "theoretical value" dropped so much that there was no way they could sell the home to pay off the mortgage.

While this post seems to be wandering all over the place, there is one simple fact in all of the scenarios: we are often held captive by the thing we created to serve us.

Unless, of course, you refuse to let that happen. Can you? Yes. You have to resist the "money is happiness" idea.

Less is more. Contentment is king. Things are just things. People are of value.

And there is something greater to trust in that will never fail.

It's All Good

2011-01-13T22:05:00.000-06:00

Success based on the underlying truth that bad things didn't happen is difficult to quantify and easy to overlook.

Wednesday Writing: Still Chewin' on Chapters

2011-01-12T15:14:00.001-06:00

Last week, we discussed averages when it came to chapter length. But unless you are writing for a genre or publisher that sets chapter lengths in stone, chapter length can vary. We’ll talk a bit more about how to use variations in chapter length to your advantage, but for now, let’s focus on an average chapter. How do you decide where a chapter break should be?

A chapter should be long enough to develop its purpose. What is the purpose? Each chapter must pull its own weight, contributing to the forward motion and the climax of the story. Chapters that don’t meet this crucial qualification should be cut.

Chapters generally indicate a major shift in the story. This could be a change in point of view, a change of scene, or a sequel--a contemplation or reaction that leads the character to the next logical action in solving the overall story conflict.

For many authors, the chapter will center around a single event or setting. Each chapter develops one scene that advances the story. However, a chapter can contain more than one scene as long as the events naturally belong together and therefore become a cohesive whole.

Chapters can change as often as the point of view shifts. This makes it easy for the reader to expect to change gears. If more than one setting or point of view is used in a chapter, then a spacer is often used to cue the reader to a shift.

Some writers divide chapters after climactic scenes; others try to end them at the top of an exciting event so the reader must continue to the next chapter in order to know how the action culminates (cliffhangers). Another method is to end a chapter on a “bomb drop” or stunning revelation, so that the reader must turn the page to see what kind of reaction is prompted.

So now that we have a general idea of when chapters should start and end, what goes into the development of a strong chapter? Tune in next week.

Part Three

Not Trippin' Much This Tuesday

2011-01-11T13:45:00.000-06:00

Too tired to quibble
Have too much to do
So for Trippin this Tuesday
Sorry, can't do.

But I can post worthless poetry!!!

Blast from the Past: Snow

2011-01-10T22:01:00.000-06:00

There was no mistaking that today was a winter day. That lead gray sky looked hard and uninviting but produced the gentlest of delicate snowflakes. The yucca and evergreens were soon dressed in powdered-sugar dust. I was ready to bake cookies and make soup.

Unfortunately, I don't like the cold. So I don't have a lot of out-in-the-snow memories from my childhood. The one I remember best was actually at my grandparents' house, and I wonder if it was during the year we stayed with my grandfather after my grandmother had passed away because my sisters were there and my mother too.

The three of us girls set out to make a snow fort. We began the project after making snow angels and putting plenty of footprints in fresh snow. We may have slid a time or two down the only hill within range, which just happened to be in front of the neighbor's house, and they didn't much care for kids sliding down that irresistible hill.

I didn't have much stay power when it came to braving the cold. I still don't. So normally I was the first one to go inside. You know how it goes: fifteen minutes to put on all the snow gear. Fifteen minutes in the snow. Then half an hour undressing, hanging up all the sodden stuff, mopping up puddles and making hot chocolate. It was an afternoon project for my poor mother.

Not on this particular day however. My sisters gave up before I did. It was such a grand fort! I really wanted their help finishing it. Coaxing, needling and other methods of coersion had no effect. So there was nothing left to do but finish it myself. And play in it for awhile afterward. Yay me!

The only picture of me & snow I can find.
Can you tell my twin aunts passed down the coats?

Simply Sunday: Keeping the Cold Out

2011-01-09T10:23:00.005-06:00

The cold is bitter today; the wind is howling like a monster that wants terribly to be inside as well as out. I'm thankful to have a sturdy walls and a working heater between me and the monster and a loving family to add to the warmth. And hot mocha:

1 mug creme brulee coffee + 1 packet Land O' Lakes Cinnamon Cocoa Classic = Yum!

Saturday School: Grass-Fed Beef

2011-01-07T23:46:00.001-06:00

As with just about anything out there, when it comes to knowing the beef you're buying, it pays to get yourself an education. Because advertising today is often a psychological shell game that plays on the latest buzz words, unless you're on your toes you may not be getting what you think you're getting.

The term that seems to rise to the top regarding beef these days is grass fed. Grass fed beef is sold at higher prices as a healthier alternative to the average beef. So what exactly is grass fed beef?

To start with, all cows eat grass. For the first seven to nine months (spring till fall) most cattle are raised on pasture. Past this point, things get a little confusing.

Finishing beef refers to the time between when cattle are sold and when they are slaughtered, usually a period of two to four months. Finishing generally takes place in feed lots where the cattle are confined and fattened. Beef cattle are commonly fattened using corn; they gain weight at a fast rate and can be sold at 14 to 16 months. Corn feeding also produces the marbling in meat that consumers look for.

However, corn is not a natural food for cattle. Animals with a four-stomach digestive system are known as ruminating animals and their digestive systems are designed for eating grass, not large quantities of grain. When fed a diet of grain, the digestive system becomes acidic and the bio-chemistry transforms which in turn alters the meat. Acidic intestinal tracts of corn-fed cattle favor the growth of E.coli. Antibiotics and protein supplements are often required to keep the animals healthy while gaining weight quickly. The ratio of Omega 3 to Omega 6 fats are decreased in the meat. CLA (conjugated linoleic acid a beneficial fat) is reportedly not found in corn finished beef, unless it is supplemented in the few days prior to processing.

Hence we have seen the shift to grass-fed beef as a healthier alternative. However, a more accurate term would probably be grass-finished beef. Grass finished cattle are fattened on grass only until the day they are processed.

It is those last few months of finishing that are crucial to the composition of the meat. Because some producers will advertise that their beef is grass fed, but in the fine print note that it is grain finished, if you are concerned about the healthful composition of the meat, you must be sure you are buying grass-finished beef.

So is "organic" or "natural" beef grass-finished? Not necessarily. The terms refer not to the meat, but to the feed grain; the corn is organic or natural. Which doesn't amount to much, because it still has the same effect on the digestive system and hence the meat of the grain finished animal.

Incidentally, grass-finishing beef takes a lot longer than grain-finishing. The 14 to 16 months mentioned above can become four to five years.

One more term clarification: Pastured beef refers to the fact that the animal was pastured all of its life and not kept in confinement. One resource noted that "It's possible that a producer could keep cattle in confinement an feed them grass hay and still be able to call them grass finished for now, since there is currently no standardized definition of grass fed or finished beef."

I hear all you vegetarians saying there's a simpler way! However, until "permission" to eat meat is withdrawn, I will probably enjoy an occasional steak. I will be more inclined, after doing this research, to see if the budget will support a superior product.

Resources:

Friday Fun: She Asked For More... :)

2011-01-07T10:00:00.003-06:00

NOTE: This post won't mean much until you've read Magical Dream Sticks

The headache that had been creeping up her neck made her want to stick her head over the sink and let the hot water from the sprayer needle her muscles. Probably couldn’t find a better way to get herself fired either.

But the lunch rush was over. A few stragglers had waltzed in. Good thing she wasn’t running the place. It would be closed between two and five. People with no sense of time. What use were they?

Sarah put the nozzle in its holder and turned off the water. The steam hovered in the air with nowhere to go. Maybe it would help if she could get a lung full of unsodden air.

“Takin’ a break, Sonya!”

“No need to yell, I’m right here. First the guy out there calls me a crab and then you yell in my ear. I vote for a re-do of the day.”

“No argument from me. Where’s Eli?”

“He brought the last customer in and then disappeared again.”

Sara sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I wish I could be a better mother.”

“Nonsense. Good grief girl, look at you! What is wrong?”

“Headache. Slammer. It’ll be alright after a break.”

“Why didn’t you say something? You look like you should be home in bed, blending in with the sheets.”

“My sheets are red. So am I flushed or pale?”

“Ghostly, my dear. Go home.”

“I can’t Sonya. I need the full paycheck. Eli needs glasses and if I don’t get him some strings for that guitar, I’m liable to hit something with it. Drives me crazy to listen to him.”

“Then go sit down. Do you want water or coffee? What have you taken?”

“Both and nothing.”

“Go sit. But sit where you can see Mr. Finch. He’s a sight for sore eyes."

“Did he really call you a crab?”

“No. It just sounded that way. I think our Mr. Finch has had a bad day too. That’s what happens when it snows seaside. The whole world goes off-kilter.”

“It’s snowing?”

“Yep. That’s fascinating too! Go sit by Mr. Finch and watch the snow. I’ll make you feel better and maybe by then we’ll have corralled that kid of yours and you can sneak out. I’ll punch your card.”

“You know I can’t do that last one, but everything else sounds like a winner.”

Sarah pushed through the door and let it swing behind her. She hummed a bit while she straightened things on the counter and tried to steal a good look at Mr. Finch.

“You Eli’s mom?” he asked, the second she looked his direction, as if he’d been willing her to look over there. It made her jump and knock over the empty napkin holder which clattered through the salt and pepper shakers. She scrambled to set everything aright, feeling foolish and wondering what on earth Eli had done now.

Her face was flaming when she wiped her hands on her apron, then pushed the tendrils back from her forehead.

“Yes. Yes, Sir, I am.”

“Fine young man.”

She was taken aback, which made her shake her head, which pounded worse in response.

“Eli? Well, thank you. I’m sorry. Should I know you?”

“How rude of me. No.” He stood. “Nicholas Finch,” he said, reaching out a hand.

“Sarah Rutherford. Nice to meet you.”

“You okay?”

“Just a headache. Need a break. The air feels good.” Cool crisp air blew under the inch of open window by his table.

“Join me.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t really. I’m still on the clock.”

“Well you look ready to pass out at any moment. You should sit by the fresh air, and I’ll move if it’s going to bother your boss.”

“My boss is down at the gambling hall. He’s not going to care one way or another. So thank you for your kindness.”

Sarah slid into the second seat at the table and began rearranging everything that was strewn across the table. It wasn’t until she got to the crayons that she realized what she was doing.

“Oh!” She buried her hands in her lap. “Sorry. Habit. The fish are amazing!”

“Right.” He slid his empty plate over the drawings and gathered up the crayons. He seemed nervous, trying to cram them all in the box at one time.

“I admire your keeping your creative side alive. It dries up in too many adults.”

He stopped stock still and looked directly at her. It was unnerving, so she closed her eyes and pushed her bangs back from her forehead again. Sonya appeared just at the right time with coffee, ice water, and

“Tylenol. Will that do it?”

“Let’s hope.”

Sonya caught her eye for a moment, and Sarah couldn’t decide whether she was trying to say way to go or what on earth are you doing? The phone rang and Sonya disappeared to get the call. Sarah thought it might be wise to leave.

"I'm curious--" he began, but too late, because she had just noticed what was happening beyond the window glass.

"So am I! Is that glitter or am I seeing things?"

Nicholas followed her gaze. "Ah yes. Intriguing, isn't it? Snow. Fine and catching the sunlight."

"I've never seen anything like it. Would you say, by any chance, that this would count as the sky crying?"

He never batted an eye. "Well, it is precipitation. Tears of joy perhaps?"

"Of course!"

"And it matters because..."

"Because my fortune cookie last night--Eli and I splurged on take-out from Leo's Wok--said: You will find curiosity whenever the sky cries. So I am curious, too. What did you want to ask?"

-------------------------------------

Prompt from WriteFix Right-Brain prompts:

Serendipitous Fortune Cookie - You will find curiosity whenever the sky cries.

And from CotA who wanted more.

Magical Dream Sticks

2011-01-06T11:39:00.003-06:00

"Sir!...Sir!"

The man turned to see the little urchin taking side-steps behind him, trying to catch up and probably keep an eye out for an easier mark, all at the same time. A dark shock of too-long hair kept falling in his eyes, and the dust of freckles across his nose did nothing to indicate his age. Those freckles looked fresh out of summer, while this afternoon's sky was butter yellow with the sun setting behind a bank of thick clouds promising snow. The boy brought the guitar slung over his shoulder into playing position, blowed on his red-tipped fingers, and then paused, poised to begin playing.

"Play you a song?"

"Can you play and walk at the same time? I'm late."

"Sure. What'll ya have t'day."

The man rolled his eyes. So much for shaking the burr. Might as well play along. "Daydream Believer."

"Right-o."

Did the boy really have an accent or was he faking it? His tenacity was applaudable. And he could walk and play at the same time, though the rests in the tune were a bit longer while the boy trotted forward to catch up. The song was recognizable, even though the instrument was sorely out of tune.

"Don't you know how to tune your strings?"

"Not yet. Need to learn. I'm afraid of breaking a string."

"How can you play that well and still not know how to tune the instrument?"

"I don't know. I'm just picking it up."

"And you knew Daydream Believer?"

"My mum's favorite tune."

"Get outta here, boy. Go con someone else."

"No joke! She whistles it while she mops up dishes. Come hear if you like. The Wharf is where she works."

"I don't like. I'm late as it is. Is there a point to all this?"

"Strapped for cash, sir 'tis all. Tryin' to make a dime."

"Honestly. I'm late. Don't have time."

"'S'okay. I'll follow you. Could I interest you in some dream sticks?"

He found himself too curious to say no. The boy picked up on it instantly and fished in his bulging coat pocket.

"Here they are. Never opened, bright sharp points, high quality dream sticks."

"Those are crayons."

"Only to dried-up adults."

Oooh, that stung. Time to shake the kid. "How much are the dream sticks?"

"A buck fifty."

"For a fifty-cent box?"

"Delivery fee. And inflation."

"Right."

The man dug in his pants pocket for a wallet and his cell phone started ringing. Of course. He held up a wait-a-minute finger to the boy.

"I'm on my way! What do you mean it's too late. For God's sake Marie, be reasonable."

The boy could hear the woman squawk, but not make out what she was saying. The man's face said it wasn't good. In fact, it was making him angry. There went the buck fifty.

"You understand this is the end of the road. I don't have to put up with this from you. Yes, you!" She was still squawking when he flipped the phone closed.

"Sorry man."

The man shrugged and handed him a five. "You need this more than I do."

"Hey, Man. Thanks! Here's your crayons."

"Why don't you just keep those. The cash is a gift. Use it wisely."

"Then the dream sticks are a gift. They can take you places if you'll let them. Didn't they used to?"

The man paused, looked heavenward as if trying to remember.

"Maybe. Hey, is the food good at The Wharf?"

"The food is excellent at The Wharf."

"I'm starving. Haven't had a bite since breakfast, and now that I have nowhere to go and all the time I want to get there, I think I want a nice meal. Show me the way?"

"Y'bet!"

The man tucked the dream sticks in his inside coat pocket with the wallet. He expected the kid to chatter, but he didn't. Occasionally the boy would nod at people they passed like he knew them.

"Here we are."

The place looked like an honest-to-goodness crab shack. Inside the smell was heavenly.

"Hey Eli! Who's your friend?"

"Hey, Sonya. This is....." Eli looked up at him, so he stepped forward.

"Nicholas Finch."

"Mr. Finch wants a table," Eli told Sonya. "Right?" he asked when he realized he'd spoken for the man.

"Yes. Are you joining me?"

"Can't. Gonna keep working. See ya round and thanks a bunch."

"Choose a seat, and I'll be right with you," Sonya said.

Nick took a seat at a table for two by the plate glass window overlooking the mouth of the bay. Pretty much everything was wrapped up for the winter. He was already bored by the time Sonya showed up to take an order.

"What are your specials?"

"You mean all the stuff we're almost out of?" Sonya then listed off three or four items. "It's been a mean week, and I would suggest the crab cakes."

"Appropriate."

Sonya looked at him as if she didn't believe what she was hearing.

"Not you! Me. I'm crabby. God. Crab cakes. Yes. Water. Thanks. Can I eat on the deck where I can do no harm?"

"Relax. It's too cold out there. But you could open the window. Listen to the sea talk. It might look still, but it will whisper to you."

Because it was the kind of day that the bottom fell out of completely and a normally sane adult was inclined to pay three times what he should for colored wax, Nick did what Sonya suggested.

Within minutes, he heard the whispering waves. "It's okay. It's okay. Play. Play."

Nick opened the dream crayons and picked out his favorite color, green. While he drew, the kitchen door pushed open; he heard a tremendous voice. Daydream Believer. Eli's Mom was doing dishes. Crab cakes--still cooking--smelled remarkable. The dream sticks seemed more natural spilled on the table, and a school of bizarre but colorful tropical fish began swimming across the newsprint table covering. A gust swept under the crack of the open window and when Nick looked up the setting sun had fallen below the thick cloud bank. Sunlight was bouncing off of tiny, tiny snowflakes, making them look like glitter falling from the sky.

Somewhere inside Nick knew that his world was finding a strange new level, surreal yet beautiful. He'd not felt this kind of excitement--or peace--in a long, long time.

There's more!

---------------------------

Prompt

A boy is selling crayons

with an out-of-tune guitar

The sky is of sweet buttered cream

A gentle snow begins to fall

while the ocean whispers what is left unwritten

Wednesday Writing Tip: A Rebel Checks Out the Rules

2011-01-05T10:02:00.007-06:00

I didn't used to think of myself as a rebel, but as I look back, I think I've been a quiet one. Have the kids at home, teach the kids at home, not buy into the "more is better" mentality. I'm not one to just fold in because everyone else does it.

When I started writing, I didn't have a lot of time for all the "averages" that pop up. How many words should a novel have? (As many as it takes to tell the story! Duh!)

However, I have learned that averages are there for a reason. Books have to sell. It's why the publishing business exists. And over time, averages settle out. Anything that falls outside of the realm of average--like word count--had better be exceptional in more ways than just being an odd length. General rule of thumb (good for all areas in life): Know the rules before you decide to break them and then break them for a good reason. Just being rebellious does not constitute a good reason.

One set of averages I was not familiar with are those governing chapters. I do not write in chapters. I create in scenes. So chapters didn't get a whole lot of my attention. I mean how hard is it to divide up a book into naturally occurring breaks that allow a reader a chance to breathe? Does anyone really care how many chapters are in a book?

Turns out: it takes a bit of work to break at the "right" point and yes, there are people who care how many chapters are in a book. They are called agents and publishers.

An article over at Suite 101 provides a logical explanation of an "average" chapter, based on an "average" book:

An average book runs about 65,000 words or around 260 double-spaced manuscript pages. These can be divided into roughly equal chapters of eighteen chapters of about fourteen pages.
Generally, most chapters do not exceed 17 pages. This rule is not set in stone. Many publishers and agents feel that lengthy chapters may cause a reader to lose interest. If you have a chapter over 17 or 20 pages it is a good idea to take a look at it and see if it can be split or condensed.

WikiAnswers adds the wisdom of taking your target audience into consideration, but sets a general goal of about 2,300 - 2,500 words, about what an average reader can handle in 15 minutes.

Additional ideas are offered by working writers over at the National Novel Writing Month forums.

So there are the averages, and I find myself curious as to how my "finished" novel fits the profile. Off to find out!

Part Two

Trippin' on Tuesday: How Fast Things Have Changed

2011-01-04T21:55:00.000-06:00

I was either a senior in high school or a freshman in college when I had my wisdom teeth removed. All four at one time. Because I have a small mouth (really, I do!!) there wasn't enough room for me to be wise in the tooth. None of them were impacted; one was turned on its side a bit instead of coming up straight. That was the most challenging of the four to extract.

I was not put totally under, but in a "twilight" where I could still hear what was going on, but not feel a thing. My dentist was amazing. He made me feel totally at east (had for several years) and I do remember him asking more than once if I was comfortable and keeping me updated with, "It's going great!" Oh, how I miss him, but I can't remember his name! Ack!!!

The horror stories I'd been told about wisdom tooth removal ranged from dry sockets to a face so swollen it was not recognizable. I was prepared to be in horrible pain and unable to eat for days.

Well, I don't know if those people had low tolerance for pain or horrible dentists or what. But my Mom drove me home and we stopped to fill a pain med prescription that I never used. Not one pill! I couldn't believe it. I settled in on the couch and enjoyed soup and a milk shake and time to just sit and read. My dentist called me around 7:00 in the evening to be sure I was doing okay, and I was able to talk to him and he understood me! I was amazed that he'd call. Personally. Wow.

All this for $40 per tooth extracted.

My son got an estimate to have his wisdom teeth removed: $600+ from one dentist for "dental surgery." He got a second opinion from another dentist who said he'd leave them alone, that they weren't adversely affecting the rest of his teeth.

Buyer (or tooth extractee) beware.

Blast from the Past: Oceans

2011-01-03T23:47:00.005-06:00

I'm landlocked and cold and find myself thinking about oceans. Warm ones.

I wonder sometimes how much of our preferences we are born with. I can't remember a time when I didn't absolutely love water. And my favorite place of all was a warm beach. I love the smell and the pulse of the waves, the screech of the gulls. Wasn't so fond of the hot sand on bare feet when I was younger, and I know I complained about the discomfort of sand in places where it didn't belong, but all in all, give me a beach and I'm happy. Happiest if I can swim.

Which was one reason that Cape Cod disappointed me at first. My mother informed me that the water there was so cold it made your teeth ache, and while I didn't seem to have the same reaction she did, it was tough to stick a toe in at first much less the rest of me. I still remember though being mesmerized by the sand dunes, and in no great hurry to leave the water, or the inn where I could watch the waves while I ate canteloupe.

Oh, then there was Cancun. Xel-ha. No words. It was the one time I felt absolutely comfortable snorkeling because the bay was calm, the water warm as a bathtub, and there was so much to see. It was like standing at the display at the zoo, only there was no glass between me and the fish. Just water. I was content to let them swim around me and just pretend for a little while that I really belonged there with them.

Then many, many years later there was the cruise and it wasn't what I expected it to be because my poor dh felt like he was in prison. He likened it to being locked in a hotel room with a picture window and being told to watch the grass grow. On schedule. Me, I could have stared out the windows for hours. Or walked the deck in the moonlight and listened to the sea against the ship, and again that faint pulse of the waves. Inside, the area around the coffee bar was my favorite; I loved sitting as close to the water as I could and still be in the boat. I was constantly amazed though at how calm the open ocean was. The clouds played in the sky even more enticingly than they do here in Oklahoma. I'd love to go cruising again when I wasn't worried about how miserable my cabin mate was.

Then there was the North Sea. That was a different kind of love. I did shuck my shoes and stick a toe in. Boy howdy, I knew exactly what my Mom meant by aching teeth then! But I will never ever forget the sun setting behind Lindesfarne Castle, barely visible on the horizon, or the gulls circling the fishing boats for a scrap or two from the day's haul. I know I've mentioned it before, but the fish and chips in Seahouses were to die for. I would go back in a heartbeat. But not in December.

Marrowstone. Oh my goodness. I would retire there. A distant relative of mine already owns my dream home by the sea, there at the tip of the island. I saw a rainbow there that went from the ground into the sky and back down to the ground again. Two pots of gold, if one hankered for that sort of thing. The view was enough for me. I could write a million novels perched at the picture window in the house on the hill overlooking the sea. Yes, I could.

And I find myself wondering the same thing that I did when I sat in silence on the beach in Seahouses: if this were my life, if I lived here 24/7 facing the trials and tribulations and tedium of everyday life, would I still be in awe of the place? Would I still have this easy contentment I feel when there is rhythm to the water just a stone's throw away?

I'd love to find out.

Fortune Smiles?

2011-01-02T22:36:00.001-06:00

"And she will be safe? You will keep her safe?"

"I promise."

"You would not lie to me, Brother." Shira caught her brother's gaze. He did not look away, nor allow himself to blink, even though the sunshine was bright and the city air dusty.

"I am not lying to you, Sister. Look." From underneath his coat--a fine coat that she was surprised to see on him--Breaton pulled a drawstring bag. He loosened the string and let her look inside.

"Where did you get that? There must be a pound of gold!"

"On the road. But the papers say that I have a daughter. Believe me, Shira. I did nothing wrong; I just came across the road at the right time. I can take her and we can start new. We'll make a place for you. But I have to have the girl."

Shira's heart became glass shards, moving, grinding, poking, fighting with her mind. "It is an opportunity."

"For all of us, yes! It is an opportunity. Grab it, Shira. Grab it for her, for Miosa. Let us go. We will work until you can join us."

"There is no future for her here." Shira glanced outside through the open door, the new light of day already harsh, revealing every piece of garbage, every hint of human suffering. The clouds overhead dimmed the sunlight for a moment, just to remind her of how things could change. For the brief darkness should have hidden the worst of the suffering around her. Instead the shadows pressed down as a reminder that soon the rains would start. The streets would begin running with stench and blood.

Shira shivered.

"Go. With God's blessing, go."

Her brother moved his gaze from her to her child, but not before Shira caught the excitement that gleamed in them, even in the dull light of the hut.

"Do you want to wake her?" he asked.

"No. It would be too hard. Lift her gently. She has learned to sleep through anything."

Shira watched the muscles ripple underneath her brother's arm as he plucked her daughter out of the bed of hay. Miosa sighed, and Shira's heart stopped beating until the rhythm breath of the baby's sleeping began again. Shira drew a ragged breath, watching the girl curl into the warmth of Breaton's chest. It would be too hard if her big silverish eyes opened to question her. How could she ever explain?

"What will you tell her, Brother? How will she know that I still love her with all my heart?"

"I will tell her," he whispered. "She will know."

"Go." Shira pressed her eyes closed, listening for the sounds of his departure. She wanted to remember her daughter sleeping safely in his strong arms, on her way to a better life. When she opened them again, the room was empty. Now was time to let the tears flow. Shira lay down in the hay, still bearing the baby's imprint and the sweet scent of her.

And for her sacrifice, Shira was awarded an exhausted sobbing sleep and a dream. Breaton walking tall, healthy, free, god-like, holding on to the brown dirty hand of a little beggar girl. The girl changed, transformed as she walked. First her hand became white, dainty. Her brown rags turned into a pink dress. Her hair untangled and folded neatly into braids that piled themselves elegantly on the girl's head. Her bare feet became covered--intricate shoes, wooden, that would never wear out, that would bear her proudly as she walked with her uncle over hills covered with green grass, littered with flowers.

--------------
Well, it is an effort. *sigh* Here's the prompt:

Imagine God is walking in a garden

with a beggar girl in wooden shoes

The hills are green and littered with flowers

there is a pound of gold in a sleeping man's bag

while a woman weeps over things forever lost

from Writer's Unblock Tool: Mode Room Press Writer's Idea Bank

Who Can Resist Posting Today?

2011-01-01T21:52:00.000-06:00

Being the first of the year and 1/1/11....

It's cold here! Hubby is sick, which means I'm probably next. But in the meantime, enjoying a little bit of quiet time and I am in deep planning mode. Of course, since dh was off on Friday, I keep thinking today is Sunday. Good thing he has another day to try to shake what he has before it's back to work. Maybe. He could sing a good bass right now. This from a man who telephone operators frequently refer to as "ma'am".

I'm trying to set up a central station that can't get lost. Right now I jot and scribble on so many things in so many places that I end up forgetting where I put the notes I need for this project or that. I don't know whether I'll make it a daily thing or not (I should!) but I want to keep sticky notes in most rooms of my house where I can jot things that cross my mind, and then on a regular basis collect the notes together. My command central is a zippered 3-ring notebook that holds standard 8-1/2 x 11 inch paper, complete with nifty pockets and folders. We'll see what happens. I'm a great planner. It's the follow-through that gets less than stellar results. I do have my sticky-notes mounted in each room though and a pen nearby. It doesn't matter what I need to remember. If I'll just take a second and jot it down, when I centralize everything I can put it under its proper section. Voila--instant organization.

It can't possibly be that simple.

What's This?

2010-12-31T21:46:00.000-06:00

I needed one more post to tie last year's number of posts. Which isn't impressive. But it's not less. Here's to more in 2011! Need to get used to typing that new year number anyway, right?

And by the way, the traffic here is increasing. I know time is tight and money is tight, so spending time wisely is important and I'm honored that you take the time to swing by here from time to time and read. Thanks to all of you from the bottom of my heart. I'll try to keep you in good reading material. Or at least interesting material.

I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday and I love today.

~William Allen White

Goodbye 2010

2010-12-31T21:39:00.003-06:00

Highlights:

My 25th Wedding Anniversary

Great niece's summer visit

S. Dakota with my sisters and "sisters"--love 'em all!

Mom and Dad's 50th anniversary party

Garden Bounty

Garden Beauty

Sensational Skies

There will be more, the more I think about it, but for such a rocky start as 2010 had for me, it's ending on a much, much better note.

I don't do the resolution thing, but I am trying something different, which actually started in November.

I have been cleaning out some of my old books and papers and was reading journal entries I'd written two years ago. It was a little disheartening to find that I could have written them last week; I'm still fighting the exact same things, the top ones being clearing the clutter out of my house so I can focus on more important things without feeling guilty about how the house looks, submitting my writing (i.e. finding an agent) and improving my health. There has been very little progress in these areas; they just follow me around and cause me anxiety.

So, last month I decided that the 19th of every month (or a date in close proximity if circumstances make the 19th impossible) is going to be a day I take to spend some time off by myself, looking at what I've accomplished, where I want to go and being specific as to how I'm going to get there. The goal is to build some good habits, one month at a time. Or make solid, recognizable progress, even if I'm the only one who recognizes it. It's time to get more serious about specific, baby-step goals. I've spent a lot of time over the past twenty-some years taking good care of everyone else, but I haven't done a lot of moving forward myself. Outside of learning Sign Language. :)

I am going to sit down today and come up with some monthly goals I'd like to try to achieve over 2011, but they are going to be subject to change as the year unfolds. I get to start over again each and every month on the 19th with some me time.

Trippin' on Tuesday: College Debt is NOT "Good Debt"

2010-12-28T11:50:00.000-06:00

The Today Show offered some straightforward counsel yesterday morning:

There is no such thing as good debt.
(clip embedded below)

This has always been my position. When I started college I was offered a scholarship, a Pell Grant and a student loan. I accepted the scholarship and the grant but turned down the loan. I remember getting a letter asking why I was turning down the loan. I responded that the grant and scholarship would be enough, and I'd prefer not to go into debt for college.

Well, since that time long, long ago, things have changed. It seems to be common thinking that

if you're not saving up hundreds of thousands of dollars to put your children thought college, you're a bad parent.
if you're not planning to send your children to an Ivy League college for 4 - 6 years, their life will go to the dogs.
it's okay to graduate from college owing massive amounts of money because your elevated salary will take care of it.
your larger college-graduate lifetime earnings will make your life better than that of a lower-paid non-degree wage earner.

I have never bought into any of those myths. And I haven't pushed them on my children either.

First and foremost in my mind, it's essential to find work doing something you love. So if you love medicine and want to be a doctor, then you need to be thinking about how you're going to achieve that goal. Impossible for kids to know? Maybe not. My niece was fascinated by a family friend's medical textbooks--particularly the pictures--when she was five or six years old. Today she is a nurse. I firmly believe we are all born with innate talents and "predispositions" if you will. Tap into those, turn them into marketable skills, and you are well on your way to a job you can go to day after day with a smile. Some of the most miserable people I know felt they had to force themselves into "lucrative" careers and now they find themselves stuck in jobs they hate because they owe so much money from borrowing to get those degrees. It's a sad waste. In my opinion.

As a parent, it is my sober responsibility to teach my children to become happy, productive members of society. This includes, but is not limited to, learning how to learn, understanding personal responsibility, and realizing the truth that people are always more important than money or things. This idea that money will make you happy is ludicrous. Money is a necessity that, used properly and wisely, can act as a protection. But it has limits as to what it can do for you, and developing a love of money is a sure road to unhappiness. (Ecclesiastes 7:11 is a favorite of mine.) I helped my children develop a balanced view that keeps money and education in proper perspective.

I will gladly help my children financially get through the post-secondary schooling of their choice to the best of my ability. But hey buddy, if you have to have an Ivy League degree then you better have the grades for a scholarship or know how you're going to get yourself through, because it's not in our budget. Where there's a will there is a way and you better have the will. That kind of education is like owning a Mercedes. If you want the luxury, then you better figure out how to afford it. You can get where you need to go in used Kia. Spending more than you have is irresponsible.

As for the last two myths, today's economy is screaming: It's NOT okay to graduate being tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. Massive debt is stressful and diminishes the quality of a young person's life. There are no guarantees, even when a person has a college degree. As for the happiness factor, well I have to ask, who is happier? Someone who has the financial freedom to do what they love on their schedule, or someone chained to a 60- or 70-hour-a-week job, or perhaps two or three jobs, so that they can pay down a huge debt.

My oldest son graduated from college with no debt and is doing a job he enjoys at a salary that allows him to work part time, setting his own schedule, and the opportunity to devote himself to a volunteer work that he loves. He's happy and in my view, that makes him successful.

So are there good jobs a person can get without a college degree? Or are non-degreed young people sentenced to being garbage collectors? Check out these links:

Fastest Growing Jobs with a High School Diploma or GED

Top 10 Highest Paying Occupations for Which a Degree Isn't Required

Top 10 Fastest Growing Jobs With Post-Secondary Training or an Associate Degree

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Blurt

2010-12-27T23:43:00.001-06:00

How's that for a title. Now I can write just about anything I want!

Overheard quote for the day:

When a women can walk down the street bald, with a beer gut and believe without a doubt that she's sexy, then we'll have achieved equality among the sexes.

Not exactly a day I'm looking forward to......But it made me laugh.

Something else that's strange: just checked the temperatures in some of the places I've visited (bottom of this blog) and it's warmer in South Dakota right now than it is in North Carolina. In fact, of all the places listed (Salida, Colorado; Port Townshend, Washington; Nova Scotia being the other three) it's coldest in North Carolina!

I am so ready for spring. I know it's a long way off, but I've already got an itch to plan a garden. Probably should.

Blurt over.

I Have Always Loved This Song

2010-12-24T00:25:00.000-06:00

And it seems appropriate to dedicate it to my cousin Shannon who welcomed another member of their family into the world on the 21st. Still haven't heard what his name is! Congrats too to Dad, Craig and Big Sister, Reese. And Nana of course. :)

Our Family Legacy - The Guitar

2010-12-20T10:00:00.001-06:00

From the beginning, on down through the years, a guitar has always seemed to make its way into the picture.

Pickin' & Grinnin'

Sorry it didn't stick, Dad

Maybe it will stick with the grandkids?

Start 'em young!

Yay, it stuck!

Grandson #2 is a kindred spirit

Serenade at the 50th - Fitting!

Still a family favorite

Mighty Relaxin'

Hooray for Books with Pictures!

2010-12-16T22:56:00.001-06:00

I just downloaded the iBooks app update which allows for pictures in the iBooks. This means picture books can truly go digital now with everything else.

At almost the same time, I received or noticed or somehow got wind of an article on Publisher's Weekly about the picture book industry that painted a much brighter picture for those of us who love to read and write picture books. Back in October, I read the New York Times article stating that picture books were no longer a staple in children's literary diets. I was pretty close to horrified. I calmed down a little when a fellow blogger took up the topic and made some excellent points. We humans spend an awful lot of energy fighting change; sometimes we're wasting energy staying stuck or even worse, we end up hurting ourselves because we won't change. I think the stunning success of bloodless medicine and surgery is a good example. But that's for another post. Back to picture books.

Photo by Horton Group

I did allow myself to wax nostalgic about the hours my boys and I spent in the library reading stacks and stacks of picture books till we were "literarily" stuffed and had to take the rest home in our take-out tote bag. I just cannot imagine a world without picture books. Our shelves contain picture books that I passed on to my children. I still have the first book my son ever read, in all it's tattered glory. How can a digital book ever compete with that?

Still, I don't think it's worth the energy to battle against the move to digital. I doubt seriously that digital will ever completely replace print books. I also seriously doubt digital will go away anytime soon. Not unless we lose electricity and all batteries in the world for an extended period of time. Let's face it. It's hard to clutter a car, or a bedroom or my living room for that matter, with digital books. That part I really, really, really love.

But it was sitting among stacks of books--the heft, the ink-and-paper smell, the crackle of the cover and the whisper of the turning pages--that made my reading world, and my kids' early years absolutely delightful. So as long as I can, my world and the world of the children I love, will find a place for the old and the new. In the end the most important thing is what? That children read.

Your Best is Better

2010-12-10T09:58:00.000-06:00

Perfection might be a lofty goal, but it is an unrealistic expectation and without the proper balance, a horrible taskmaster.

Tonight It's My Sisters

2010-12-08T18:17:00.000-06:00

and me, and

'nuf said. :)

Snow!

2010-12-07T21:50:00.000-06:00

I actually made footprints on my way into the house from the driveway.

May this be the end of a long, cold winter.

Wait....

:)

TV’s Evolution...or Devolution

2010-12-06T09:39:00.000-06:00

Do you remember

- living without a television in the house?
- how Mom and Dad were more likely to turn on the radio, put on records or play music themselves than they were to turn on the television?
- waiting for the TV to warm up before the picture appeared?
- when a remote consisted of a child who was asked to turn the dial on the black and white TV set to one of three channels?
- when UHF was a big deal?
- adjusting the color on the set just about every time you turned it on?
- “snow”?
- when a good part of the evening might be spent adjusting the rabbit ears to just the right spot (after which a child would inevitably bump them and get sent to bed)?
- when antennas were decorated with aluminum foil to improve reception?
- when stations stopped broadcasting at midnight?
- when VCRs replaced reel-to-reel film strips at school and were monstrous contraptions that even teachers had to struggle to master and no one dreamed of having one at home?
- when a television set was for watching and a clock was for time-keeping so there was no need to set a digital clock on the TV to have it function properly?
- you watched a show when it came on or you waited for the rerun or you simply missed it altogether?
- people used a TV guide to find out what was going to be on and the guide was reliable?
- when families chose in advance which programs they would turn the television on to watch; there was no turning it on for the noise factor or simply letting it run for hours on end?
- a selling point for paying for cable television was that you didn’t have to watch commercials?
- when there were no commercials for feminine hygiene or male enhancement products?
- when sex was a serious and intimate matter that was kept private, rather than discussed or portrayed or joked about every couple of minutes?
- when murder mysteries didn’t involve the graphic portrayal of the event or its aftermath?

We don’t have cable, won’t have cable, and I love it when the entire day goes by and the television never gets turned on.

Now if I can just get over this new-fangled addiction to the internet. :)

Exhausted

2010-12-03T23:39:00.000-06:00

But encouraged.

There's too much going on, much to cope with, and I'm already feeling the effects of shorter, darker days.

However, I woke this morning to an orange sky that reminded me of sherbet. I sleep in a room on the east side of the house and the glow through my window woke me up. I'm not a fan of orange, but this was a creamy and glowing orange, gentle and happy.

I had to be out and about today, didn't sleep well during the night, and so I made my way to the coffee pot which is naturally in the kitchen which is on the west side of my house. In the west the sky was solid pink: raspberry sherbet.

But the best thing of all was, after being thankful for such an awe-inspiring start to a day I was heretofore dreading, I found myself writing in my head, incorporating the experience in my main character's world, as I know I need to do a better job establishing setting.

It's been a long, long time since I've thought in fiction, if that makes any sense at all. A month's worth of everyday blogging, followed by a fairly steady diet of writing has been the water on the wheel of my imagination. It is finally turning at full pace once again.

One more thing to be thankful for. And what better way show gratitude than working to keep the words churning in my head. It thrills me to my toes to have this back.

You Have to Earn It

2010-12-02T10:00:00.001-06:00

One can demand respect, but if that respect is given immediately, the one demanding it has merely settled for fear or contempt in a convincing disguise.

Five Favorite Einstein Quotes

2010-12-01T10:15:00.001-06:00

Five of many and in no particular order:

Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.
I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.
It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education.
Small is the number that see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.
Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new.

Tis the Season to Be Polite

2010-11-30T10:29:00.000-06:00

I made the mistake of clicking on a video link in Facebook in which certain "Christians" (and I use the term loosely) are rap-bashing sales clerks and others who won't wish them a Merry Christmas.

Excuse me?

My son works in retail. One of his greatest strengths, according to his evaluations, is the way he deals with customers. Polite, patient. People feel truly cared for when he helps them. But you know what? He will never wish a single customer a Merry Christmas. Or a Happy Holidays either. When you leave his register he'll smile and say "thank you!" and probably tell you that he hopes you have a good day.

Now step back and look at that exchange and tell me what anyone can possibly find fault with, unless you're being unreasonable and extreme.

We don't celebrate your holiday. No apologies there. We won't interfere with your choosing to celebrate your holiday either. We'll treat you with dignity and respect throughout this season, even though our Christian choice is different and for excellent reasons.

Why?

"All things, therefore, that YOU want men to do to YOU, YOU also must likewise do to them; this, in fact, is what the Law and the Prophets mean."

(Matthew 7:12)

Blast from the Past: Big Red Worm Farm

2010-11-29T10:00:00.007-06:00

When our family moved from Philadelphia, PA to Glencoe, OK, the sky, the tribulations and the possibilities seemed endless.

We had a pony. She was stubborn and we couldn't ride her, but who cared. She was ours. We had a garden. It didn't grow so well. The red clay soil and the summer heat became deadly for just about everything but the okra. Who cared. The potential was there. Okra wasn't so bad if it was fried.

I'm not sure where the worm growing idea came from. Dad located a man who had a worm farm either in Hooker, Oklahoma or Slapout, Oklahoma or somewhere in between (maybe we were motivated to visit by a bit of curiosity as well as the worms). We all loaded up in the good old Ranch Wagon and headed for the Panhandle. Saw my first real-life tumbleweed on that trip.

I don't remember the name of the worm wrangler, but he showed us his set up and answered all Dad's questions. Dad put together three or four worm bins when we got home. They were simple contraptions--two by twelves nailed into rectangles and filled with dirt, sawdust and old newspaper. Amazingly enough, you could order worms by the thousands through the mail, and we did. Dad opted for Red Wigglers rather than Nightcrawlers, even though the Nightcrawlers were bigger and therefore favored by fisherman. Which wasn't such a good gauge, as any educated worm farmer knew. The Red Wigglers stayed alive longer underwater and wiggled, which tended to attract fish. Plus Nightcrawlers required an entirely different set-up involving lights to keep the crawlers in their beds. Otherwise at night they would...uh...crawl. Duh.

At that time, OU's football team was also known as Big Red. That seems a strange comment now, as we're more accustomed to Boomer Sooner and Crimson and Cream, but I am fairly certain that we called our outfit Big Red Worm Farm to play on the OU theme. Mom painted a sign to put up on the highway and one for our mailbox post advertising the availability of good bait worms.

As one of the Big Red Worm Farm volunteers (pressed into service) I learned more about worms than most 11-year-old girls ever cared to know. I could recognize worm castings and eggs, mature worms, mating worms, baby worms that looked like tiny white threads. We surprised more than one fisherman when they arrived for bait and found three girls comfortable counting out and packaging worms. Feeding (particularly coffee grounds, but it seemed we spread something else--don't remember) and misting the beds were a regular part of the routine. I believe we had a layer of newspaper on top of the soil and hay on top of that, but I could be wrong about the hay.

Anyway, the beds were established and we were even filling garden orders for worms. Normally this would entail getting the average weight of a certain number of worms and then weighing an order for several thousand, but we didn't have scale. However if my two sisters and I divided up the order we could count out the worms in not-so-short order. I preferred seeing the fishermen come for bait.

Photo by Judy Roberson

Introduce the chicks. A friend of ours had an acreage and the local chicken hatchery would dump chicks on his property if they didn't sell, where they became hawk, coyote, and other animal food; this was another new facet of our lives in rural Oklahoma that was unheard of in Philly. This time our friend--at my parents' request--saved some chicks for us. Many of them died before they were large enough to turn loose outside; we had no idea what needed to be done to keep motherless chicks alive, but we learned. A good number thrived and we were well on our way to fresh eggs and a chicken in an occasional pot.

Guess what chickens love to eat? Worms. Guess where we had built the worm bins? Beside the old dilapidated chicken coop that we never figured we'd actually use for a chicken house. But as if by some ancient instinct, that's where the chickens loved to roost at night. And that's where they waited for us to pull back the newspaper to water or feed the worms. No matter how much chicken scratch we scattered for them before, during or after worm care time, they descended on those bins like they were starving whenever we pulled back the cover. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet as far as they were concerned.

Worm feeding/watering became such a fight that we ended up butchering the chickens. "We" as in another friend who butchered chickens like some people made beds, and who coached my mother through the ordeal. I'm pretty sure I hid somewhere out of earshot. I could count worms any day, but...We never had another flock of chickens at Big Red Worm Farm.

The garden orders became too tremendous to fill. Some filled orders had arrived at their destination with dirt and dead worms, so there were orders to re-fill. After awhile the volunteer brigade was sick of counting out worms, and Dad just didn't have the time. There weren't enough fisherman to make the venture pay otherwise.

Then we had the Nightcrawler incident. Perhaps we thought we'd sell more bait worms if we we were able to offer Nightcrawlers or Wigglers. Dad set the Nightcrawler operation up in the storm cellar on the back porch which at one time had been outside, but thanks to an addition on the back of the house was now inside. One night the light bulb burned out. The next morning--ugg! I can still close my eyes and see the basement walls and ceilings moving. It was something right out of a horror flick. I was completely freaked out, and I--obviously--wasn't one to freak over worms, toads, snakes and such. I could bait my own fishhook for goodness sake.

We screwed in a new lightbulb, let the worms that could make it crawl back into the dirt, and let Dad clean up all the dried wormy bodies that were left. That pretty much marked the death of our worm farm adventure.

I still wonder sometimes if it would be a viable business today, with the renewed interest in organic gardening. Gardens love Red Wigglers maybe more than chickens do!

No Offense

2010-11-28T19:27:00.000-06:00

If I refuse to take offense, he and his opinions lose all power over me.

Saturday School: Waterwheels

2010-11-27T10:27:00.003-06:00

My NaNo story this year took me into the world of mills and waterwheels because one ended up in my setting. How? I don't really remember, but I think I saw a picture of one on stock.xchng and fell in love with it. Then serendipitously, it merged with other ideas for the story and voila! I am learning about waterwheels, first, and then other parts of a mill, trying to get a good picture of one in my head just in case I never get to tour one. I'm at that same spot with lighthouses. I have one featured in a story, and I would sure love to get inside one just to see what it's really like, but that wish has never been brought to fruition. My bad. Time to get busy.

Anyway, here is a short summary of what I've learned about waterwheels:

There is such a thing as a horizontal wheel, also known as a Norse wheel. They were generally mounted inside a building, with the axle of the wheel being the spindle of the of the mill.

Vertical wheels are more prevalent and are divided into different types:

Undershot: rotated by water striking blades or paddles at the bottom of the wheel. Oldest type and least efficient. However they did not require major changes in the water source and were therefore cheaper.
Breastshot: rotated by water striking buckets near the center of the wheel or just above it. The paddles are actually buckets and have to be protected by a trash rake, which keeps debris from messing up the wheel.
Overshot: rotated by water striking paddles or buckets at or just beyond the top of the wheel. Moves the wheel forward. Overshot wheels gain efficiency by taking advantage of gravity. The force of the flowing water is transferred to the wheel, the weight of the water descending in the wheel's buckets provides energy and the height of the head--the distance that a given water source has to fall before the point where the power is generated--allows kinetic energy to accumulate. Overshot wheels generally require a dam, millpond and waterways, including a flume or penstock that delivers the water to the wheel.
Backshot or pitchback: is actually a type of overshot wheel, but the water is introduced just behind the summit of the wheel, spinning the wheel backward. This type adapts better to extreme seasonal variations in water flow and can also gain power from current passing the bottom of the wheel as well as the weight of the water falling in the wheel's buckets. The need for complex sluice and tailrace construction is reduced. (The race is the channel for the water flowing to and from the waterwheel. The part bringing water in from a mill pond to the wheel is a headrace. The one carrying water leaving the wheel is the tailrace.)

That's the "pretty" part, the outside of the mill and particularly the wheel, that fascinates me. But now I have to go inside to turn an old mill into an art studio. The less romantic research lies ahead.

Today's Words . . . As They Spill

The Road Leads to Spring

Tinker Time

Pink and Blue

Spent

I Do Have Little Stones

Restless

My Little Stones...

Here We Go Again

Everybody Salsa!

Savvy Tenant - Finding Home Sweet Apartment, Part I

Moonbeams

Goal for Tomorrow

Today Feels Like

Hello November!

Savvy Tenant - Knowledge is Power

The Sun is Setting

Eating Healthy - Why Is It So Difficult

Low Key NaNo

Holy Jalapeno Habaneros, Batman

Dead Man's Curve

Monday, Monday

Savvy Tenant - The Lease

Yesterday

Break in a Busy Day

Don't Teach Them to Hate It

Cover Up

I Sabotage My Own Self

It's Monday Again

Savvy Tenant Kick-Off

Keyboard!

Under The Gun

Hah!

Vitamin Issue

Giving Up on Perfection

A Favorite Photo

Afraid I'll Forget

Lazy Saturday Evening

My Idol

Thursday Kitchen Tips

Family Time

Write On!

I'm Showing Up

Tonight

Hellooooo 10/1

Digital v Print Books

Wanted!

It's That Time of Year

True Story

Ugg!

Hi!

Time to Come Home

Trippin' on Tuesday: Don't Take It Sitting Down

Full Moon Friday

Practicing Living in a Strange New World

What is the Title?

Hello Friday!

Pondering Rambles

I Think I've Peaked....

Friday Fun: Flurries

Paralyzed

Trippin' on Tuesday: Tunnel Vision

Just Sayin'

Saturday School: Grapefruit Because...

Wednesday Writing Tip: Chapters, Part Three

Trippin' on Tuesday: Why?

Blast from the Past: Susie

Simply Sunday: Quote

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”― Louis L’Amour

Saturday School: Are We at the Mercy of What We've Created?

It's All Good

Wednesday Writing: Still Chewin' on Chapters

Not Trippin' Much This Tuesday

Blast from the Past: Snow

Simply Sunday: Keeping the Cold Out

Saturday School: Grass-Fed Beef

Friday Fun: She Asked For More... :)

Magical Dream Sticks

Wednesday Writing Tip: A Rebel Checks Out the Rules

Trippin' on Tuesday: How Fast Things Have Changed

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”
― Louis L’Amour