Betwixt and between. That's how I feel right now. It's a mixture of emotions, game playing and the dreaded "what lies ahead." But, it isn't something I haven't lived through before because it happens every time I finish another novel. You see, while writing I become so intertwined and part of the lives I'm creating they become real people to me. Close, as if part of my family. So when I write The End,even if it's only in my mind it's as if I've cut the umbilical cord, pushed the last bird out of the nest and watched as the last ship leaves shore.
Writing Finding Amy was a true labor of love, because it was, in part, based on fact. I loved the story, the characters, the outcomes even though at the start of the book I never expected the end that came about. You see, I'm not a true structured writer. Some authors have the entire plot in their heads before the first word is typed into the computer. Not me. I have the beginning of the plot and the characters in mind but the entire story is still a mystery in some ways. And, even if I think I have the plot kind of outlined, my characters sometimes have another view and off we go. Finding Amy took more time than any of my other novels. Probably the health problems for both me and my husband and the recuperating afterwards played a big part in that process. But, there was also a lot more research to be done with this book. Not that I'm complaining. I love researching because it's kind of like going back to school. You learn so much more than you even need to for the plot.
Now I feel ready to begin the next book. The outline has been wandering around in my mind for several years and I think this might be the time to begin. Still, I feel bound in some way to Finding Amy. It hasn't actually been launched, there are things that might need attention so am I ready for the next set of characters, the next set of plotting?
That's where the betwixt and between comes in. I seem to be in a flux, caught between the present and the past and peering tentatively into the future. It's a confusing time and I find myself not able to really concentrate on anything.
Then mix in the three day weekend and what I thought was Saturday was Friday and today, Monday, May 30th, feels like Sunday and not only is it Memorial Day but it's my granddaughter's thirtieth birthday and I'm 1200 miles away and you can see my indecision. Maybe I had better just lay low for a day or two, go to the pool and exercise with the girls, finish the book I'm reading, lounge a little. The only trouble with that is I'm not really a lounger so I'm going to have to put some effort into that too.
One thing I know though, it will all work out and before long I'll be grinding away at the computer doing what I love to do best in all the world.
So betwixt and between is just a hiatus. Good, now I've got that sorted out.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Bits and Pieces
There are so many things going on…some real and some in my head, perhaps trying to become real. Anyhow I thought if I jotted them down I might be able to reorganize my thoughts and actions, at least for the next few days.
First and foremost—I finished my latest manuscript! I am really happy about that. Of course I have come to love the story and the characters; that always happens. Somehow they just take a piece of my mind and heart right from the start and then go shooting off to the finish. This time though, I had a lot of interruptions, serious interruptions which have resulted in periods when I just couldn't work on what I wanted to…the book! Interruptions which were mainly health related and while they are not all solved or ended, recently I found time to work on 'the book', disappearing into my studio for longer and longer periods of time until this morning it is finished. This manuscript took a bit more research than some of the others but that's always interesting too. Of course, the dreaded editing and rewriting are looming before me but I honestly have to say I love that too. What I call the 'screen edit' has been done. That means I've been staring until I'm cross eyed at the computer screen. This morning, in between loads of laundry, I printed out the manuscript. All 368 pages of it. I've already eliminated about 1,000 words so I'll be looking for more ways to write a bit tighter. But,I'm convinced that in the near future I can honestly say, "It's finished". That is until I send it to my publisher.
Also on my mind are a variety of other things. One night last week I suffered one of my more sleepless nights. No matter what I did things in my head just wouldn't go away so I got up and jotted them down on paper. Sometimes that works. This time it didn't. The next morning, blurry eyed from lack of sleep, I looked at the paper. I'd listed poems and songs as well as books from my childhood. Now I have to admit that my mother was a great story reader and she also loved to recite poems and sing songs from her childhood. It wasn't until I was well into my adulthood that I realized what a treasure these were but of course, the hectic pace of life put them on the shelf. I hadn't thought of these things in years and years. I wondered if it had anything to do with Mother's Day because I sure thought about my mother a lot on that day, not that I don't think of her every day.
The fact I couldn't remember many of them made me nervous. As a writer and a supporter and teacher of the importance of keeping a record of family history, I felt compelled to do something about this. So, thanks to the Internet I Googled the names of the books, songs and poems. I found all of them except one but I'm determined to find that one too if it exists somewhere. My list contained Rudyard Kiplings Just So Stories and I copied all four of them from the Internet. I found one song, My Grandfather's Clock" and a poem, The Walrus and the Carpenter from Through the Looking Glass. The only poem I couldn't find was one that included the words, "Yesterday, beneath the rick, I broke his prison with my pick" It was a poem about a toad. Ah, well, I'll keep looking when I can.
Tomorrow I'll have another set of things to consider and that's okay too. I'm not complaining about anything because I love challenges and think that life itself is a challenge at times. I love my life, past and present, good and bad and we all have that. I thank God everyday for everything that has become part of my life because that's what makes ME.
First and foremost—I finished my latest manuscript! I am really happy about that. Of course I have come to love the story and the characters; that always happens. Somehow they just take a piece of my mind and heart right from the start and then go shooting off to the finish. This time though, I had a lot of interruptions, serious interruptions which have resulted in periods when I just couldn't work on what I wanted to…the book! Interruptions which were mainly health related and while they are not all solved or ended, recently I found time to work on 'the book', disappearing into my studio for longer and longer periods of time until this morning it is finished. This manuscript took a bit more research than some of the others but that's always interesting too. Of course, the dreaded editing and rewriting are looming before me but I honestly have to say I love that too. What I call the 'screen edit' has been done. That means I've been staring until I'm cross eyed at the computer screen. This morning, in between loads of laundry, I printed out the manuscript. All 368 pages of it. I've already eliminated about 1,000 words so I'll be looking for more ways to write a bit tighter. But,I'm convinced that in the near future I can honestly say, "It's finished". That is until I send it to my publisher.
Also on my mind are a variety of other things. One night last week I suffered one of my more sleepless nights. No matter what I did things in my head just wouldn't go away so I got up and jotted them down on paper. Sometimes that works. This time it didn't. The next morning, blurry eyed from lack of sleep, I looked at the paper. I'd listed poems and songs as well as books from my childhood. Now I have to admit that my mother was a great story reader and she also loved to recite poems and sing songs from her childhood. It wasn't until I was well into my adulthood that I realized what a treasure these were but of course, the hectic pace of life put them on the shelf. I hadn't thought of these things in years and years. I wondered if it had anything to do with Mother's Day because I sure thought about my mother a lot on that day, not that I don't think of her every day.
The fact I couldn't remember many of them made me nervous. As a writer and a supporter and teacher of the importance of keeping a record of family history, I felt compelled to do something about this. So, thanks to the Internet I Googled the names of the books, songs and poems. I found all of them except one but I'm determined to find that one too if it exists somewhere. My list contained Rudyard Kiplings Just So Stories and I copied all four of them from the Internet. I found one song, My Grandfather's Clock" and a poem, The Walrus and the Carpenter from Through the Looking Glass. The only poem I couldn't find was one that included the words, "Yesterday, beneath the rick, I broke his prison with my pick" It was a poem about a toad. Ah, well, I'll keep looking when I can.
Tomorrow I'll have another set of things to consider and that's okay too. I'm not complaining about anything because I love challenges and think that life itself is a challenge at times. I love my life, past and present, good and bad and we all have that. I thank God everyday for everything that has become part of my life because that's what makes ME.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
LESSONS LEARNED
I've always thought I had a pretty good command of the English language. I attribute much of that to my father, who insisted we use words properly; that we challenge ourselves to broaden our vocabulary. One of his hard and fast rules was that if we didn't know what a word meant or heard a new word, we looked it up. When one of my daughters was in the fifth grade her teacher gave each of her students a button to wear on their shirts or jackets. It was bright yellow with red letters that stated "We never guess, we look it up". I think that was meant to cover reading, history, geography (do they even teach that anymore?) and,of course, English.
I know I'm not the run-of-the-mill language buff. I have a dictionary in the magazine rack next to my chair in the living room and if I come across a word I'm not familiar with, I look it up; there's a dictionary/thesaurus near my desk; and if something comes up on television, or in the newspaper and I don't know exactly what it is or means, I run to the computer and look it up. My gosh, that lesson has stayed with me!
In today's world our word usage has expanded immensely. I have to admit I don't know what some of the new lingo means and when I look it up I don't even understand the technical language, but I try.
Lately, and even though I don't want to get into politics, I have strong feelings about come of the current topics, but what I really want to see is something I call common sense put into place. Can something as simple as this prevail? My most current conundrum is the situation with gas prices which hit and hurt just about everyone in this country and are part of the myriad proposals facing us all. There seem to be many solutions and blame connected with this subject, offered by many people. One of the words bandied about is the word subsidy. It seems big oil companies need subsidies.
Excuse me but just look up the word subsidy. It means; financial support, financial assistance, financial funding, financial backing, grants and subvention. Notice all those 'financial' words. I always thought subsidies were a system used by government at all levels to help a struggling entity, to give a lift to new business or programs, or to help people with real needs.
Now here's the problem I have with this subject. How, I ask, does a company who boasts and posts bigger than enormous profits for one quarter of the year, qualify for a subsidy? What kind of financial help do they need? Are they in need of financial assistance? Financial backing? Grants? Small struggling businesses, businesses that, with some help, could expand thereby picking up some of the people who are looking for jobs, and people and programs in need might qualify for subsidies. But major, giant, thriving businesses don't need subsidies.
I think I might share this with some of our congressmen, maybe even the President. It's one small voice but perhaps we should raise some small voices. It's not against the law to raise a question or prompt a discussion. Subsidies for giant oil companies?
Another lesson my father taught me was that it was a privilege to be an American citizen (he was naturalized) but with that privilege came responsibility. We've always been a nation of responsible, privileged people. We help the poor and downtrodden. We share where we can. Isn't that just common sense?
I think we've all learned this kind of lesson sometime in our life. Lessons we should use.
I know I'm not the run-of-the-mill language buff. I have a dictionary in the magazine rack next to my chair in the living room and if I come across a word I'm not familiar with, I look it up; there's a dictionary/thesaurus near my desk; and if something comes up on television, or in the newspaper and I don't know exactly what it is or means, I run to the computer and look it up. My gosh, that lesson has stayed with me!
In today's world our word usage has expanded immensely. I have to admit I don't know what some of the new lingo means and when I look it up I don't even understand the technical language, but I try.
Lately, and even though I don't want to get into politics, I have strong feelings about come of the current topics, but what I really want to see is something I call common sense put into place. Can something as simple as this prevail? My most current conundrum is the situation with gas prices which hit and hurt just about everyone in this country and are part of the myriad proposals facing us all. There seem to be many solutions and blame connected with this subject, offered by many people. One of the words bandied about is the word subsidy. It seems big oil companies need subsidies.
Excuse me but just look up the word subsidy. It means; financial support, financial assistance, financial funding, financial backing, grants and subvention. Notice all those 'financial' words. I always thought subsidies were a system used by government at all levels to help a struggling entity, to give a lift to new business or programs, or to help people with real needs.
Now here's the problem I have with this subject. How, I ask, does a company who boasts and posts bigger than enormous profits for one quarter of the year, qualify for a subsidy? What kind of financial help do they need? Are they in need of financial assistance? Financial backing? Grants? Small struggling businesses, businesses that, with some help, could expand thereby picking up some of the people who are looking for jobs, and people and programs in need might qualify for subsidies. But major, giant, thriving businesses don't need subsidies.
I think I might share this with some of our congressmen, maybe even the President. It's one small voice but perhaps we should raise some small voices. It's not against the law to raise a question or prompt a discussion. Subsidies for giant oil companies?
Another lesson my father taught me was that it was a privilege to be an American citizen (he was naturalized) but with that privilege came responsibility. We've always been a nation of responsible, privileged people. We help the poor and downtrodden. We share where we can. Isn't that just common sense?
I think we've all learned this kind of lesson sometime in our life. Lessons we should use.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
A friend named Janie
Every morning, as early as possible in my busy days, I read from my daily devotional. It is a calm, rewarding break for me and I share the reading with my husband. We discuss the message for that day, look up the accompanying scriptures and often marvel at how spot on it is for that particular time, current 'problems' or concerns.
The very story behind the devotional is unusual. I read from a little book titled Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young. It is written in first person Jesus, so it's as if He's talking to you personally. I received the book from a friend in New Jersey. Nothing unusual about that but in this case there is. I have never met or spoken to this friend in Jesus. Another friend from Florida was receiving a daily "hug" from a lady named "Janie". She asked if I'd like to receive a hug every day and a spiritual message every evening. I, of course, said I'd love that. I can't tell you how much delight I've received from not only the wonderful book Janie sent me (when she learned I was dealing with a serious medical problem for my son) but also from her personal messages once in a while. We communicate via email and she has become a fan of my books, but I digress.
Yesterday's message really hit home. Of course, I cannot say that doesn't happen often because it does. But yesterday not only did the message hit the spot it drove itself right into my heart. Here's just a portion of the message, 'Walk with Me in holy trust, responding to My initiatives rather than trying to make things fit your plans. I died to set you free, and that includes freedom from compulsive planning. When your mind spins with a multitude of thoughts, you cannot hear My voice."
Well, that hit the nail on the head because I am a compulsive, obsessive PLANNER! In fact, here it is not even May and I'm planning for an October conference. There are some serious things to consider with regard to this event, but already I'm planning what might or might not occur. My plans usually are fraught with what I call my 'what if' syndrome. And, all this time I was wasting brain time. Oh, it's not that I haven't prayed about what I'm planning and I'm pretty sure that's okay but just taking over is not what He wants.
Every once in a while you have to bring yourself up short, open your eyes, which you thought were already open, and turn things over to God. I thought I was doing that but apparently I hadn't planned on this eye-opening, back to basics message I received yesterday. I'm grateful ever day for the blessings in our lives. I'm blessed - with many things and many people. One of them is named Janie.
The very story behind the devotional is unusual. I read from a little book titled Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young. It is written in first person Jesus, so it's as if He's talking to you personally. I received the book from a friend in New Jersey. Nothing unusual about that but in this case there is. I have never met or spoken to this friend in Jesus. Another friend from Florida was receiving a daily "hug" from a lady named "Janie". She asked if I'd like to receive a hug every day and a spiritual message every evening. I, of course, said I'd love that. I can't tell you how much delight I've received from not only the wonderful book Janie sent me (when she learned I was dealing with a serious medical problem for my son) but also from her personal messages once in a while. We communicate via email and she has become a fan of my books, but I digress.
Yesterday's message really hit home. Of course, I cannot say that doesn't happen often because it does. But yesterday not only did the message hit the spot it drove itself right into my heart. Here's just a portion of the message, 'Walk with Me in holy trust, responding to My initiatives rather than trying to make things fit your plans. I died to set you free, and that includes freedom from compulsive planning. When your mind spins with a multitude of thoughts, you cannot hear My voice."
Well, that hit the nail on the head because I am a compulsive, obsessive PLANNER! In fact, here it is not even May and I'm planning for an October conference. There are some serious things to consider with regard to this event, but already I'm planning what might or might not occur. My plans usually are fraught with what I call my 'what if' syndrome. And, all this time I was wasting brain time. Oh, it's not that I haven't prayed about what I'm planning and I'm pretty sure that's okay but just taking over is not what He wants.
Every once in a while you have to bring yourself up short, open your eyes, which you thought were already open, and turn things over to God. I thought I was doing that but apparently I hadn't planned on this eye-opening, back to basics message I received yesterday. I'm grateful ever day for the blessings in our lives. I'm blessed - with many things and many people. One of them is named Janie.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Progress - is it all that's it's cut out to be?
I just spent a mind-boggling five days getting my latest book, Forgiven, entered into the Florida Writers Association RPLA competition. Two of my previous novels were entered and won some recognition. I love competitions, not only for the opportunities they sometimes provide but also just challenging myself and trying to get into the rush of things. Also, getting feedback from real judges is a great boost to an author. I hope all my writer friends try competitions and/or contests. It doesn't have to be something you think should really be on the New York Times best seller list (and how realistic is that?) but competions are a great writing tool. I tell my students that stretching your writing ability will only produce better writing. For me, I don't really enjoy writing short stories. I need 300 pages and 100,000+ words to get my story told as I'd like it. But I enter short story and poetry contests(another thing I'm not paticularly good at) just to see what happens. Sometimes I've been pleasantly surprised and at other times, I don't even get a response. Must have been pretty bad. But, the stretching part for me is to actually get a short story across in 1500 words. So, when this year's FWA competition opened I planned to enter my latest book.
Now we get to the progress part. In the past I read the instructions, typed up what was needed, crossed every 't' and dotted every 'i', pushed it into a properly addressed envelope with all the other things the competition required and took it to the post office. Easy, right? But, this year we have gone technical. All submissions must be electronic i.e., sent via email. Being totally inept at these mechanics, I studied and studied the instructions. They use language I'm not familiar with. So, I pored through the 20 pages of instructions again so that I would cross every 't' and dot every 'i' but it wasn't the 't/s' and 'i/s' I needed to be worried about. It was the instructions on how to get this into the email with the proper identifications, in the right order and to the right person.
This morning I assembled my submission, checking and rechecking the instructions. By jove I think I've got it. But, and here the heart comes to a slow halt, after I pushed the send button my mind catapulted through those 20 pages of instructions. Had I? Did I? Should I have? Oh, drat. It's gone and I'm hoping it just gets to the right person and gets processed. This is harder than writing the book! I guess it's progress and sometimes I think we as a culture try to simplify things by making them more difficult. One opinion, I'm sure.
This brought me to think about another 'progressive' thing I've experienced in the last couple of weeks. Two weeks ago I was at my doctor's office and he thought he found something that needed to be checked. I hadn't planned on this at all. In fact, I was on my way to my hairdresser. But, instead, the doctor sent me to the hospital for a test. Plans changed and I was a bit nervous. Upon arriving at the hospital, and God knows I've been there too often in the past couple of years, I checked in at the front desk. Usually you check in, they take your driver's license I.D. and your insurance cards and then send you off to the proper department. So, being savvy on these things I arrived at the front desk, cards in hand, expecting to follow the usual procedure. But, No. Things have been modernized. They didn't need my cards and I.D. The lovely young woman behind the counter handed me one of those square gadgets you get in restaurants which will alert you when your table is ready. You know the things, they blink inoccuously for a while and then go into a frantic buzzing, flashing and vibrating and you know your table is ready. The lovely young woman directed me to a waiting area and said when the 'buzzing thing' went off I could go into the lab. I did as I was instructed. Did I tell you it was pouring, one of Florida's quick and saturating downpours? Sitting on the chair with a very wet umbrella, the doctor's orders, and my I.D. cards in my hands I was comtemplating this unexpected turn of events when the buzzy thing went off. The umbrelly fell wetly to the floor, my cards flew in several directions and the doctor's orders suddenly became wet and wrinkled. My heart was in my throat; after all this was a bit scary just being there. Is this progress? I really think it would have been a whole lot kinder if I'd just waited my turn and had the lovely young woman call softly to me that it was my turn to go into the lab. I guess I'm just not programed for all this progress.
But, and there is always a but, I passed the test and I'm praying my submission entry flew through cyber-space and has safely landed in the right receptical or in front of the right eyes. Time will tell. We must keep up with progress even if it kills us.
Now we get to the progress part. In the past I read the instructions, typed up what was needed, crossed every 't' and dotted every 'i', pushed it into a properly addressed envelope with all the other things the competition required and took it to the post office. Easy, right? But, this year we have gone technical. All submissions must be electronic i.e., sent via email. Being totally inept at these mechanics, I studied and studied the instructions. They use language I'm not familiar with. So, I pored through the 20 pages of instructions again so that I would cross every 't' and dot every 'i' but it wasn't the 't/s' and 'i/s' I needed to be worried about. It was the instructions on how to get this into the email with the proper identifications, in the right order and to the right person.
This morning I assembled my submission, checking and rechecking the instructions. By jove I think I've got it. But, and here the heart comes to a slow halt, after I pushed the send button my mind catapulted through those 20 pages of instructions. Had I? Did I? Should I have? Oh, drat. It's gone and I'm hoping it just gets to the right person and gets processed. This is harder than writing the book! I guess it's progress and sometimes I think we as a culture try to simplify things by making them more difficult. One opinion, I'm sure.
This brought me to think about another 'progressive' thing I've experienced in the last couple of weeks. Two weeks ago I was at my doctor's office and he thought he found something that needed to be checked. I hadn't planned on this at all. In fact, I was on my way to my hairdresser. But, instead, the doctor sent me to the hospital for a test. Plans changed and I was a bit nervous. Upon arriving at the hospital, and God knows I've been there too often in the past couple of years, I checked in at the front desk. Usually you check in, they take your driver's license I.D. and your insurance cards and then send you off to the proper department. So, being savvy on these things I arrived at the front desk, cards in hand, expecting to follow the usual procedure. But, No. Things have been modernized. They didn't need my cards and I.D. The lovely young woman behind the counter handed me one of those square gadgets you get in restaurants which will alert you when your table is ready. You know the things, they blink inoccuously for a while and then go into a frantic buzzing, flashing and vibrating and you know your table is ready. The lovely young woman directed me to a waiting area and said when the 'buzzing thing' went off I could go into the lab. I did as I was instructed. Did I tell you it was pouring, one of Florida's quick and saturating downpours? Sitting on the chair with a very wet umbrella, the doctor's orders, and my I.D. cards in my hands I was comtemplating this unexpected turn of events when the buzzy thing went off. The umbrelly fell wetly to the floor, my cards flew in several directions and the doctor's orders suddenly became wet and wrinkled. My heart was in my throat; after all this was a bit scary just being there. Is this progress? I really think it would have been a whole lot kinder if I'd just waited my turn and had the lovely young woman call softly to me that it was my turn to go into the lab. I guess I'm just not programed for all this progress.
But, and there is always a but, I passed the test and I'm praying my submission entry flew through cyber-space and has safely landed in the right receptical or in front of the right eyes. Time will tell. We must keep up with progress even if it kills us.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
My Mother's Birthday
Today is my mother's birthday. I can't bring myself to say 'would have been my mother's birthday' because every April 3rd is my mother's birthday. She left us way too soon, dying well into her 90th year. She would have been (those awful words again) 105 today.
I always thought of myself as a Daddy's girl but I certainly didn't love my mother any less. It was just that Daddy and I were so alike in many ways. I remember after his death, when my mother came to live with me, she'd often say, "Oh, you're so like your daddy)and her voice was wistful because she missed him terribly. I wondered, after his death, how she would manage because they were so close, but she stiffened her spine and carried on. They were the closest couple I've ever known, doing so much together and in their later years the bond became even closer, if that was possible.
I truly think of my parents every day even though both died many years ago but the memories of a different ilk. I remember fun times with both of them but the difference was that with Daddy it was always different or exciting and with Mother it was comforting, supporting, calming and loving. My earliest memories are of Mother reading to me. She read every day until my teen years when the after-school activities took over. Even so, we all read a lot, sharing favorite passages or reading to each other. As a child I remember Mother cuddling me to her when I scraped my knee, had a bad day or made a goal I'd set for myself. Her cheering was quiet, Daddy's was exuberant.
My parents didn't have a lot of friends they could interact with because they traveled so much, but I don't think they had a single enemy. I cannot remember an incident where my mother was angry or upset with anyone. She offered strict yet gentle discipline because while instilling in me a sense of what was acceptable and what was not, she never lost her temper. Was she a saint? I doubt it but to me she came really close to that stature.
I remember my mother with love and thanksgiving because that's what she instilled in me. I often wish I could leave the legacy she did but we had such different adult lives. She had Daddy for 53 years and he was a wonderful husband and father. Her life was steady, not that they didn't have difficult times but they faced them and solved problems together. My life was pock-marked with bad decisions and unfortunate happenings. I had a difficult time and it's only now in the last 16 years that I have the steadiness and love that I longed for. I loved my children with all my heart and I did my best.
For as long as I live, when April 3rd comes around I'll quietly celebrate my mother's birthday. I miss my mother.
P.S. When September 22nd comes around I'll celebrate my daddy's 105th birthday too. I miss him too.
I always thought of myself as a Daddy's girl but I certainly didn't love my mother any less. It was just that Daddy and I were so alike in many ways. I remember after his death, when my mother came to live with me, she'd often say, "Oh, you're so like your daddy)and her voice was wistful because she missed him terribly. I wondered, after his death, how she would manage because they were so close, but she stiffened her spine and carried on. They were the closest couple I've ever known, doing so much together and in their later years the bond became even closer, if that was possible.
I truly think of my parents every day even though both died many years ago but the memories of a different ilk. I remember fun times with both of them but the difference was that with Daddy it was always different or exciting and with Mother it was comforting, supporting, calming and loving. My earliest memories are of Mother reading to me. She read every day until my teen years when the after-school activities took over. Even so, we all read a lot, sharing favorite passages or reading to each other. As a child I remember Mother cuddling me to her when I scraped my knee, had a bad day or made a goal I'd set for myself. Her cheering was quiet, Daddy's was exuberant.
My parents didn't have a lot of friends they could interact with because they traveled so much, but I don't think they had a single enemy. I cannot remember an incident where my mother was angry or upset with anyone. She offered strict yet gentle discipline because while instilling in me a sense of what was acceptable and what was not, she never lost her temper. Was she a saint? I doubt it but to me she came really close to that stature.
I remember my mother with love and thanksgiving because that's what she instilled in me. I often wish I could leave the legacy she did but we had such different adult lives. She had Daddy for 53 years and he was a wonderful husband and father. Her life was steady, not that they didn't have difficult times but they faced them and solved problems together. My life was pock-marked with bad decisions and unfortunate happenings. I had a difficult time and it's only now in the last 16 years that I have the steadiness and love that I longed for. I loved my children with all my heart and I did my best.
For as long as I live, when April 3rd comes around I'll quietly celebrate my mother's birthday. I miss my mother.
P.S. When September 22nd comes around I'll celebrate my daddy's 105th birthday too. I miss him too.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Giving a Little
This is perhaps a double-edged sword about giving a little and reaping the good things in life.
We recently put our home on the market, yes, even with the dismal real estate situation, we thought that now was the time to take this step. It's based on several things. With consideration to the recent medical problems for both of us and the economy (ah, yes the economy), we thought that even though we love our home and our location, this might be the best course for us. When we made that decision it tugged at my heart. At our age? I thought. Do I want to be uprooted again? We've moved a lot in our 16 year marriage and prior to that my life seemed to be one long dislocation. But that is the past and now is now.
You see, we are not young anymore and things like maintenance and upkeep become more entailed and difficult. Our lovely home is bright and cheery and just what we always dreamed, a late-life gift, if you will. The five window, pale yet sunny-yellow kitchen is a dream come true. The spacious rooms are just that -- spacious. The laundry/pantry room is not a closet but a real room. I could go on and on about the pleasant surrounding we have occupied for the past six years but it isn't necessary. To top off this accolade, we live in a 55+ community with wonderful friends and neighbors. There is a Clubhouse for interesting activities,a great pool, tennis and an executive golf course to name only a few of the 'amenities'. The activities sound like a vacation heaven and yet you can opt to take part or not. Of course, our weather is wonderful except for our brief, unusually cool winter, and I know that makes our northern family and friends giggle. Cold to us is anything under 65°.
So why are we leaving? Well, for starters we aren't leaving our community, just the large home. There are other homes right here that are smaller, more compact and beautiful on a smaller scale so we wouldn't (hopefully) be leaving our utopia, just changing addresses. We are praying that this course of action will actually take place, and if it doesn't, well, although we can't turn back or erase the number of years God has gifted us with(nor do we want to), we know that whatever happens will be the right thing. We both find comfort in knowing that what we decide doesn't really matter because long ago we put our lives in His hands. So perhaps a double-edged sword might not be the right phraseology. We are blessed, not only by our surroundings but by the most important choices we made a long time ago. We put ourselves in God's hands and that's what really counts.
We recently put our home on the market, yes, even with the dismal real estate situation, we thought that now was the time to take this step. It's based on several things. With consideration to the recent medical problems for both of us and the economy (ah, yes the economy), we thought that even though we love our home and our location, this might be the best course for us. When we made that decision it tugged at my heart. At our age? I thought. Do I want to be uprooted again? We've moved a lot in our 16 year marriage and prior to that my life seemed to be one long dislocation. But that is the past and now is now.
You see, we are not young anymore and things like maintenance and upkeep become more entailed and difficult. Our lovely home is bright and cheery and just what we always dreamed, a late-life gift, if you will. The five window, pale yet sunny-yellow kitchen is a dream come true. The spacious rooms are just that -- spacious. The laundry/pantry room is not a closet but a real room. I could go on and on about the pleasant surrounding we have occupied for the past six years but it isn't necessary. To top off this accolade, we live in a 55+ community with wonderful friends and neighbors. There is a Clubhouse for interesting activities,a great pool, tennis and an executive golf course to name only a few of the 'amenities'. The activities sound like a vacation heaven and yet you can opt to take part or not. Of course, our weather is wonderful except for our brief, unusually cool winter, and I know that makes our northern family and friends giggle. Cold to us is anything under 65°.
So why are we leaving? Well, for starters we aren't leaving our community, just the large home. There are other homes right here that are smaller, more compact and beautiful on a smaller scale so we wouldn't (hopefully) be leaving our utopia, just changing addresses. We are praying that this course of action will actually take place, and if it doesn't, well, although we can't turn back or erase the number of years God has gifted us with(nor do we want to), we know that whatever happens will be the right thing. We both find comfort in knowing that what we decide doesn't really matter because long ago we put our lives in His hands. So perhaps a double-edged sword might not be the right phraseology. We are blessed, not only by our surroundings but by the most important choices we made a long time ago. We put ourselves in God's hands and that's what really counts.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
A Fine Line
Sometimes some really good things happen and when it happens to you there is a fine line that must be considered. Is a show of exuberance a bit over the top? Could a lovely compliment be fodder to an inflated ego? Recently, I received an unusual and exceedingly welcome telephone call. When I hung up I ran through the house and told my husband the happy news. Gentle and loving guy that he is, he has to have the lowest level of outward excitement quotient in the world. He was happy and impressed. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Last Friday I received a telephone call from Gwen. I have to admit I didn't readily recognize the voice or the name but the caller continued. "I met you at Office Max and then you spoke to our women's church group in January." Oh, yes, now I remembered Gwen and her quick smile and friendly manner.
"Good to hear from you," I replied, thinking this just might be another speaking opportunity but she had other ideas.
"Remember I bought one of your books, Following Daddy?"
"Yes," I replied. I did remember she purchased a book but wasn't really sure which one it was. It was quite a long time ago. "Hope you enjoyed it."
"Oh, I did and now I've downloaded your latest book, Forgiven, to my Kindle," she continued,"and I love it."
Wow, I thought. That's good news and I thanked her for her continued interest in me and my work and her kind words about Forgiven. Compliments are always welcome and I knew she wouldn't have called if her praise wasn't true. But that wasn't the end of it.
It seems Gwen has just had some surgery and so is confined to bed and home for about six weeks. I commiserated but again, that wasn't the end.
"I'd like to purchase the rest of your books," she said.
It's always nice to hear from a satisfied reader and their glowing comments are manna to a writer, so after the smallest pause, I agreed to provide her with the remaining eight books.
Saturday I delivered the books and we had a nice chat. "When's your next one coming out?" she called as I turned to go.
"I'm working on it," I said.
"I'll be looking for it," she called.
I've said before that writing is at times a lonely occupation but it has it's moments and this phone call was one of the nicest. Now the conundrum is, do I post this blog with the self-serving message or do I just privately consider this event as a pleasant and very special occurrence? Will it be bragging? Will anyone else be impressed and should I care? It was a lovely, personal endorsement from a reader. After a lengthy soul search, I don't know what other authors would do but I think I'll just put that little feather in my cap and post this blog. Let's see what happens.
t
Last Friday I received a telephone call from Gwen. I have to admit I didn't readily recognize the voice or the name but the caller continued. "I met you at Office Max and then you spoke to our women's church group in January." Oh, yes, now I remembered Gwen and her quick smile and friendly manner.
"Good to hear from you," I replied, thinking this just might be another speaking opportunity but she had other ideas.
"Remember I bought one of your books, Following Daddy?"
"Yes," I replied. I did remember she purchased a book but wasn't really sure which one it was. It was quite a long time ago. "Hope you enjoyed it."
"Oh, I did and now I've downloaded your latest book, Forgiven, to my Kindle," she continued,"and I love it."
Wow, I thought. That's good news and I thanked her for her continued interest in me and my work and her kind words about Forgiven. Compliments are always welcome and I knew she wouldn't have called if her praise wasn't true. But that wasn't the end of it.
It seems Gwen has just had some surgery and so is confined to bed and home for about six weeks. I commiserated but again, that wasn't the end.
"I'd like to purchase the rest of your books," she said.
It's always nice to hear from a satisfied reader and their glowing comments are manna to a writer, so after the smallest pause, I agreed to provide her with the remaining eight books.
Saturday I delivered the books and we had a nice chat. "When's your next one coming out?" she called as I turned to go.
"I'm working on it," I said.
"I'll be looking for it," she called.
I've said before that writing is at times a lonely occupation but it has it's moments and this phone call was one of the nicest. Now the conundrum is, do I post this blog with the self-serving message or do I just privately consider this event as a pleasant and very special occurrence? Will it be bragging? Will anyone else be impressed and should I care? It was a lovely, personal endorsement from a reader. After a lengthy soul search, I don't know what other authors would do but I think I'll just put that little feather in my cap and post this blog. Let's see what happens.
t
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Blue Skies
The words to an old song begin, "Blue skies smiling on me, nothing but blue skies do I see." Well, I think I have really come to a blue skies time in my life. Today I was given a 'go ahead' by my cardiologist. Now I can drive, and just in that gift have gotten back a lot of my functionability (if there is such a word). I know, I know, start slowly. It's funny that about two years ago I was telling my son, right after he was taken off life support, he'd have to take baby steps toward recuperation from a very serious ailment. I advised him to take it easy, one step at a time and that one had to crawl before one could walk. Last week he reminded me of that advice. "Take baby steps, Mom," he said.
So today, for a very personal celebration of my passport back to being me, my husband, Lenny and I went out to a late lunch. We went to Olive Garden, one of our favorites and had a delightful lunch together.
I kind of think we have lots of 'blue skies' moments in our life, most of which we sail past in our hurry to get on to the next stage. Of course, most of the time you have to have a few clouds in your life to recognize and gratefully accept the 'blue skies'.
I haven't been able to write and that is upsetting to a prolific writer but I feel the urge to go on now with the manuscript I'd been working before I broke my foot (that's old news now) and really didn't get back into the swing of things during my most recent set back with the heart thing. BUT, blue skies are with me again. I do feel better bit by bit and I have plans—not to the extent I had before when I filled my calendar and days with all kinds of good things, but setting a slower and more reasonable pace for activities doesn't seem boring anymore.
I've made up my mind that I'm going to do things differently. For instance, I plan to get a little moderate exercise in each week. I'm going to the pool just to walk in the water for a while and then I just might rejoin the water exercise group I belonged to months and months ago. With the real Florida blue skies overhead that should be no problem at all. In fact, speaking of our weather, we are back to the usual which means temperatures in the high 50s to low 60s overnight and up in the high 70s and low 80s during the day. Of course we have our usual and traditionally wonderful breezes blowing the Spanish Moss about on the huge, rugged, old Pin Oaks. Truly a comforting sight alone—did I mention the blue skies?
Another self-promise is that I'm going to write even if it's a little each day. I'll get that manuscript sorted out and on its way!
I'm also promising myself and anyone who happens by this blog, that I'll post more often. Sometimes I don't post because I think I might not have anything of any interest to anyone, but you know me…I do love to 'say'.
In the meantime, I'm enjoying my blue skies. Hope you are too.
So today, for a very personal celebration of my passport back to being me, my husband, Lenny and I went out to a late lunch. We went to Olive Garden, one of our favorites and had a delightful lunch together.
I kind of think we have lots of 'blue skies' moments in our life, most of which we sail past in our hurry to get on to the next stage. Of course, most of the time you have to have a few clouds in your life to recognize and gratefully accept the 'blue skies'.
I haven't been able to write and that is upsetting to a prolific writer but I feel the urge to go on now with the manuscript I'd been working before I broke my foot (that's old news now) and really didn't get back into the swing of things during my most recent set back with the heart thing. BUT, blue skies are with me again. I do feel better bit by bit and I have plans—not to the extent I had before when I filled my calendar and days with all kinds of good things, but setting a slower and more reasonable pace for activities doesn't seem boring anymore.
I've made up my mind that I'm going to do things differently. For instance, I plan to get a little moderate exercise in each week. I'm going to the pool just to walk in the water for a while and then I just might rejoin the water exercise group I belonged to months and months ago. With the real Florida blue skies overhead that should be no problem at all. In fact, speaking of our weather, we are back to the usual which means temperatures in the high 50s to low 60s overnight and up in the high 70s and low 80s during the day. Of course we have our usual and traditionally wonderful breezes blowing the Spanish Moss about on the huge, rugged, old Pin Oaks. Truly a comforting sight alone—did I mention the blue skies?
Another self-promise is that I'm going to write even if it's a little each day. I'll get that manuscript sorted out and on its way!
I'm also promising myself and anyone who happens by this blog, that I'll post more often. Sometimes I don't post because I think I might not have anything of any interest to anyone, but you know me…I do love to 'say'.
In the meantime, I'm enjoying my blue skies. Hope you are too.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Best Laid Plans
I tend to be a 'cock-eyed' optimist most of the time. I also tend to bite off more than I can chew but somehow always manage to come out okay.
January started off good and after the past year's medical problems for both my husband and me, I was determined to avoid such unpleasant interruptions to my carefully laid plans for the 2011 year.
For one thing, I was going to work on my latest manuscript, something I had let slide the last few months of 2010. It wasn't because I didn't want to do the writing, I'm very pleased with the beginning of my next book. But,it just seemed that so many other things took precedent. "This year will be different," I told myself and began to make plans. I filled my January calendar with lots of events, things I really enjoy like speeches, one especially important one for a fund raiser by a local charity. There were other speeches, several to woman's groups at churches (I love those) and a reading at a local coffee house, all fun, all helping me promote my latest book, Forgiven, and all very doable. I was also teaching creative writing at our local community college. I was flattered that they had asked me back again. I had a class of ten, all enthusiastic about improving or just jump-starting their writing career whether it was for possible publication or something they really wanted to do for themselves. Of course, I was also holding the writer's critique group every Friday at the local library. This schedule, while a bit ambitious perhaps, was what I did during the 'season' in Florida. You rested during the summer when the snow birds had flown back north.
I was going along at a good pace when on Sunday, January 30th at 5:45 a.m.(see I almost made it out of January) I was whisked off to our local hospital with chest pains. My pulse had dropped to 48 and there was a look of contained concern on the faces of the EMTs. Of course, I had completely ignored the indigestion I'd been experiencing for about two weeks, even though I never have indigestion. Also, in keeping a diary for my primary care physician as to blood pressure and pulse, I also ignored the fact that my pulse rarely went higher than 55. I was busy.
It took 7 days, flat on my back, umpteen tests and changes to my meds to settle the problem -- I hope. Fortunately, they found little wrong with my heart but even after a catherization, I had another episode. The cardiologist thinks it is spasms in my heart's arteries. So, I now have to carry nitroglycerine tables. It seems as if I might need a 6-week recuperation period and I can't drive! Again! Fortunately we have the most wonderful friends and neighbors in the senior community we live in. They are doing laundry, shopping, running the sweeper and bringing over the most delectable food. They are also providing all the transportation we will need for the next few weeks. I am truly blessed!
So what lays ahead? Well my calendar is uncommonly undisturbed except for doctor's appointments (for both of us). My teaching class has voluntarily opted to postpone the class until I can return. Some things have been cancelled, perhaps to be set up later in the year. I have learned that I can't do what I did at 40. I have learned to plan my life around what's best for us and not expand my commitments carelessly. So, this first week back home we have home health care for both of us. I am determined to follow all medical directions and have set my schedule for the first week home, limiting my activities to medical necessities.
The best laid plans often do go astray but only because they are over-zealous. I love what I do but I just might have to 'do' a bit less. It is in God's hands. While I was in the hospital I had my husband bring me my daily devotional. I am amazed how each day's reading seemed to be aimed directly at the situation that day. But, after some reminders, I realize that it isn't my schedule that matters and it is God who lays the plans.
I'll be back with more, when I can. Bless you all for caring.
January started off good and after the past year's medical problems for both my husband and me, I was determined to avoid such unpleasant interruptions to my carefully laid plans for the 2011 year.
For one thing, I was going to work on my latest manuscript, something I had let slide the last few months of 2010. It wasn't because I didn't want to do the writing, I'm very pleased with the beginning of my next book. But,it just seemed that so many other things took precedent. "This year will be different," I told myself and began to make plans. I filled my January calendar with lots of events, things I really enjoy like speeches, one especially important one for a fund raiser by a local charity. There were other speeches, several to woman's groups at churches (I love those) and a reading at a local coffee house, all fun, all helping me promote my latest book, Forgiven, and all very doable. I was also teaching creative writing at our local community college. I was flattered that they had asked me back again. I had a class of ten, all enthusiastic about improving or just jump-starting their writing career whether it was for possible publication or something they really wanted to do for themselves. Of course, I was also holding the writer's critique group every Friday at the local library. This schedule, while a bit ambitious perhaps, was what I did during the 'season' in Florida. You rested during the summer when the snow birds had flown back north.
I was going along at a good pace when on Sunday, January 30th at 5:45 a.m.(see I almost made it out of January) I was whisked off to our local hospital with chest pains. My pulse had dropped to 48 and there was a look of contained concern on the faces of the EMTs. Of course, I had completely ignored the indigestion I'd been experiencing for about two weeks, even though I never have indigestion. Also, in keeping a diary for my primary care physician as to blood pressure and pulse, I also ignored the fact that my pulse rarely went higher than 55. I was busy.
It took 7 days, flat on my back, umpteen tests and changes to my meds to settle the problem -- I hope. Fortunately, they found little wrong with my heart but even after a catherization, I had another episode. The cardiologist thinks it is spasms in my heart's arteries. So, I now have to carry nitroglycerine tables. It seems as if I might need a 6-week recuperation period and I can't drive! Again! Fortunately we have the most wonderful friends and neighbors in the senior community we live in. They are doing laundry, shopping, running the sweeper and bringing over the most delectable food. They are also providing all the transportation we will need for the next few weeks. I am truly blessed!
So what lays ahead? Well my calendar is uncommonly undisturbed except for doctor's appointments (for both of us). My teaching class has voluntarily opted to postpone the class until I can return. Some things have been cancelled, perhaps to be set up later in the year. I have learned that I can't do what I did at 40. I have learned to plan my life around what's best for us and not expand my commitments carelessly. So, this first week back home we have home health care for both of us. I am determined to follow all medical directions and have set my schedule for the first week home, limiting my activities to medical necessities.
The best laid plans often do go astray but only because they are over-zealous. I love what I do but I just might have to 'do' a bit less. It is in God's hands. While I was in the hospital I had my husband bring me my daily devotional. I am amazed how each day's reading seemed to be aimed directly at the situation that day. But, after some reminders, I realize that it isn't my schedule that matters and it is God who lays the plans.
I'll be back with more, when I can. Bless you all for caring.
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