Perceptions and Illusions

Yesterday I awoke with the desire to get out my computer and immerse myself in a new story. It was a glorious feeling, one that I have missed these last few months. I really haven't written since November--I have been going through a dry spell.

I find Sundays not good days for writing, so I pushed aside the craving to write and went about my day. Rather crankily, I must admit. Monday would be the day to begin again. Monday morning bright and early I could flex those mental muscles and dive into the wonderful world of imagination.

I could barely wait!

Well, today is Monday and my mental muscles remain unflexed. I simply cannot get started. I have been at my computer for over an hour and have not written a single word.

I have checked my email, read a few web articles, given my opinion about the worst book I have ever read--and updated this blog.

But the story--the one that is aching to be written--remains locked away.

To be honest, I'm not too awfully worried, yet. I have been through this before, so I know what to do. I simply need to stretch out those poor muscles that have been unused for the last few months. Loosen them up a bit. Do a little freewriting, brainstorming, or...or...or something.

Come on brain! You can do it! Get that circulation flowing. Move those thoughts around.

You have had a long enough vacation, it is time to get back to work.

There is a book to be written.

Labels: life, writing

Eeeeek! I have an emergency. A book emergency.

It is Viridia. I checked on the little fella today, and was shocked to find that it had gone into a deep decline. I had no clue it was feeling so depressed.

Well, to be honest, I didn't even know that books could get depressed. I thought they just sat happily on shelves waiting to be read.

But look for yourself. Viridia is in such a bad shape that I could barely recognize it.

I feel so guilty. It is all my fault. I asked loads of people to review Braumaru and Cerulea, but Viridia got left out, neglected, and pushed aside.

There is only one thing to do, one way to bring Viridia back from the brink. But I cannot do it myself. I need your help.

It is a dangerous mission, but if you have courage I know you will succeed.
Viridia can be saved.

All you need to do is write a review on Amazon. Show Viridia that you care.

And since Viridia is a green book, you will be helping our planet be a little greener, so we all win!

Labels: Behold the Eye, family, frivolity, life, myth or reality, Viridia

I--like many people in this big bad world--have had my share of times I trusted the wrong person. Times I took a person at his/her word, and believed that that person would act in a manner consistent with my moral code.

Only to have my faith in humanity cracked and my heart broken just a bit.

Silly of me, I know, since I am old enough to know better. It is one of the lessons that children learn while still in school.

One instance I remember vividly did happen in school--only it was college, not elementary school.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called the University of Washington, I was studying to be an archaeologist. I had the good fortune to get into a practicuum at the Burke Museum, and I was having a blast. I loved every minute of it. The comraderie of the students and teachers, the professional atmosphere in the archaeology lab--but I especially loved that I got a chance to curate a 1949 field school all by myself. It was heavenly.

In the spring, we went on an overnight field trip to Odette, an archaeological site on Neah Bay. To get there we had to drive for several hours, park our van, and hike 4 hours out to the site, which was right on the water. We were all warned to bring plenty of water, since there was nothing at our campsite by sand, mud, and trees. If we wanted something, we had to hike it in.

I had prepared for the trip carefully. As a mother of 4, I was used to making sure that I had everything I could possible need. Change of clothing, check. Snacks, check. A gallon of water, check. Tent, check. Sleeping bag, check.

I was ready.

As I was repacking my backpack in preparation to begin the 4 hour hike, one of my classmates, a young man of about 22, voiced concern about the heaviness of my pack. He said that he was used to hiking with a pack, and that he would gladly lighten my load.

Right on top was my gallon of water. He pointed to the water, and said that he could easily add that to his pack, and he would be glad to transport it for me to the campsite.

I looked at him and noted that he seemed to be an athletic guy, and since he was at least 8 inches taller and 40 pounds heavier, he probably would be better able to handle the weight of the water. Besides, I had a couple of smaller bottles with me for the hike, so I thanked him and handed over the water.

The hike was exhilirating and beautiful. For the sake of convenience, we split up and all went at our own pace. Although I was not even close to the first of the group to make it to the site, I was proud to discover that I was far from the last person. I held my own.

I set up my tent and unpacked my backpack. Noticing that I had drunk all of the water I had carried on the walk, I went in search of the nice young man who had offered to carry my main supply of water.

Imagine my dismay when I found him, and he informed me that he had drunk it all. The entire gallon.

I had no water the rest of the day, no water that night, and no water for the 4 mile hike back to our vans.

A crack reverbrated through my very being as a new crevice formed its way across my faith in humanity, and through my heart.

Which didn't help my thirst one bit.

But who could I blame, but myself. I was old enough to know better.

Labels: history, life, myth or reality, world

It is that time of year again--time for me to get out paper and pencil (or keyboard and computer) so that I can figure out what I really want from the coming year. Yes, you guessed it. It is time to create the handy-dandy list known as the New Year's Resolution.

Now don't get me wrong. This isn't the only time of year I make lists. I am constantly listing out what I want to do during the day, the steps I need to complete a project, groceries that need to be bought. But this time of year I make a special list that in no way compares to all thosee normal, mundane lists. This list is fun, and without pressure.

Because come on guys, we all know the secret of the New Year's Resolution ...that any list made on the last day of the year has magical powers. Since a last-day-of-the-year list comes at an end, instead of a beginning, it can be safely ignored without guilt. It's sole purpose is simply to be written, and then forgotten. And because of this, it is the best list in the world.

So here goes. In 2010 I resolve to:

Clean my house top to bottom at least once a week.
Learn to hate chocolate.
Give up coffee.
Learn to detest potatoes of all sorts, but especially potato chips.
Brush my teeth five times a day, whether they need it or not.
Shave my head.
Have my husband cook dinner every other night.
Have my youngest daughter cook dinner every night my husband is not cooking.
Learn to like horror movies.
Learn to like flying.
Learn to like being cold.
Learn five foreign languages this year.
Go fishing.
Hug the troll under the Fremont Bridge.
Teach the Jupiterians how not to play practical jokes.

There, that should do it. Wish me luck with my resolutions!

-And-

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

P.S. You might notice that I didn't mention whole categories of my life that typically show up on the New Year's Resolution List, like health, or important career goals. I left those out on purpose. They are already on other lists, and I don't want to run the risk of forgetting about them.

Think about it. You might want to do the same.

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, world

I overheard the following conversation in a department store yesterday while doing my Christmas shopping.

Cashier: Oh, you are getting this for your daughter? Is she giving you a hard time yet?
Customer: She was born giving me a hard time. I took her to her first concert this weekend.
Cashier: Really? Who was playing?
Customer: It was Jingle Bell Bash. You know, put on by 106.1.
Cashier (with a sneer): In that case, I wouldn't know. I don't listen to American music.

Can we say "pretentious", boys and girls?

And let me take this opportunity to say
MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Labels: life, world

Those jokey Jupiterians are hard at work again, unfortunately.

There is some kind of proportion formula working between me and the Jupiterians. The more important a project is to me, the more likely the Jupiterians will exert themselves to play practical jokes. And right now my project is right up there with...with...well, it is so important I don't know what to compare it to.

I am working on the cover for the Department of Temporal Adjustment, and I am well aware that people do judge books by their covers. So I have to get it right. The cover must be superb and perfect. It must exude humor and excitement, without being funny or amateurish.

And while I am working hard to create the perfect book cover for the DTA--and it must be perfect since its job is to entice readers to first pick up and then read the book--the Jupiterians are throwing every possible distraction at me imaginable. Packages, all of a sudden, require signatures. The dog barks, and when I look, no one is around. My computer dies suddenly due to lack of power, even though I had plugged it in a few minutes previously.

But Jupiterians, I will prevail. Give me your worst.

Or, on second thought, you don't really have to. You've distracted me quite enough. I get the point, you are funny, funny, little Jupiterians.

What's that you say? You want me to put one of you, a Jupiterian, on the front cover? But the book is not about...

Oh, I see. You would be satisfied with life size image, one no humans would even notice.

I'll tell you what, Jupiterians. You leave me alone long enough to get this cover done, and I will seriously think about it.

Great! It's a deal!

They sound so cute when they giggle like that--at least they do as long as they aren't giggling because of some joke they played on me.

I wonder if they realize they are invisible to humans?

Labels: book cover, DTA, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, publishing

In the news, all I ever seem to hear about is the Swine Flu, otherwise known as the H1N1 virus. It can strike people in unexpected ways, sometimes with deadly results.

The Swine Flu is horrible, and we all need to do everything we can to stop its spread, but it isn't the only flu out there we need to be concerned about. This past week I was bogged down...by the Turtle Flu.

I know it was the Turtle Flu because I had all the classic symptoms. All food resembled worms to me. A pleasant hello from a family member was rewarded by a gruff snap.

But the most telling symptom was my speed. I mmmmooooovvvvveeeeeddddd vvvvveeeerrrrryyyyy ssssslllllooooowwwwwlllllyyyyy. (Yes, it was as irritating for me doing it as it is for you reading it.)

My family caught the brunt of my illness, but even the neighbors, who I didn't even catch sight of all week, suffered. My dog, who percieves her territory as consisting of everything within a 3-mile radius, spent the better part of the week barking at every noise--real and imagined. Instead of calming her like normal and using her barking as a training opportunity, the Turtle Flu dictated my response. I pulled my head deeper into my shell of covers and floated off into a sea of dreams.

Dreams punctuated by irritating, high-pitched, never-ending barks, but dreams nonetheless.

I am getting a bit more energy now, and I look forward to resuming my normal life. Food once again looks like food, I can talk instead of snap, and I am able to move from one side of the room to the other in under 20 minutes.

So as you are protecting yourself from the H1N1 virus, more commonly known as the Swine Flu, don't forget to also protect yourself from its irritating little cousin, the Turtle Flu. No one deserves to have a week of the turtle. No one.

Labels: family, frivolity, life, myth or reality, world

I know November is not over yet, but I have reached the 50,000 word count, so I'm done with NaNoWriMo! I have never been so tired of writing in my life! I will most assuredly take a break for a week or so.

I almost didn't finish. Friday I pushed very hard and hit the 41,000 word count, only to be rewarded by a melt down. As I reread some of what I had written, I was horrified. My plot didn't flow, the characters were flat, and to up my word count I had started doing really silly things. The worst was having the main character of my story go to story time at a library, and then writing into my story what the character would hear.

When it hit me that I had trashed my first draft I almost cried. All I was doing was giving myself a lot more work to do in the rewrites. I decided that NaNoWriMo wasn't worth it. So I put away my computer, ran a nice warm bath, and decided to chalk it up to a lesson learned. I evidently was not capable of writing 50,000 words in one month.

But then, as I relaxed in the bath, a miracle occurred. I realized why the holes in my plot existed, why the characters were flat, and even better I realized what I needed to do to fix it.

I was revived and energized. I stayed up until 2 a.m. Saturday morning fixing my novel.

I am glad I did. I once again feel good about what I have written, so instead of being distrait, I look forward to finishing this novel.

But most important, I have silenced that little voice in the back of my head that tried to convince me that I was setting myself up for failure.

I would give an evil little laugh myself, just for the fun of it. But I'm too tired.

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, writing

It is time for a little update on my progress with NaNoWriMo.

I have not finished writing for the day, but my current word count is 27,408. So take that, you sneaky little voice in the back of my head that said I couldn't do it! I did not get sick, and I am way, way past the 3,000 words you predicted.

Where is that evil little laugh now?

There it is! There is the laugh.

Why the evil laugh, when I just told you that you have failed? My writing is coming along just fine. I am right on target. Slightly ahead as a matter of fact.

Oh. I guess you are right, I am far from finished. But no, just because I took a few minutes to write on my blog does not mean I have given up.

Does not!

Sorry, got to go. I've got loads more writing to do. I am on a mission to prove that little voice wrong.

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, writing

I was told it could happen, but I didn't think it was true.

I was warned about it, but ignored the warning. In my ignorance, I believed it could never happen to me.

Yet it did.

My little baby book, the newborn creation that I began just yesterday, already has a will of its own. A strong one.

It took me two full years to write my last book, mainly because I wrote it in first person, and it was hard! So when I finally finished the last word, I vowed to stick to the much more intuitive third person. I never again wanted to struggle with those strange verb tenses that rear their ugly heads with first person writings.

Yet, as I reread what I wrote yesterday, I noticed that it just didn't flow. Something wasn't right. The voice, well, the voice was missing. Which, I suppose, is okay, since it is just a rough draft. Only...well...why not make even that first rough draft as good as it can be.

Especially since, as I thought about the story I planned, I realized that I didn't need to try to give the story a voice, it already had one. I could hear it loud and clear. It was talking directly to me.

So today I rewrote yesterday's writings--in first person. It slowed me down a bit, and I'll have to scramble a bit more to reach my 50,000 words in one month goal, but it was worth it.

Wish me luck!

Labels: life, myth or reality, world, writing

I just finished my first day of writing.

word count: 2470 (not bad!)

I created an outline, so I know basically what will happen in each chapter, and exactly how the story will play out. I also began the first chapter.

I'm satisfied--for today.

P.S. I haven't seen hide nor hair of the Jupiterians for a while. I hope they keep their distance until the end of November!

Labels: life, myth or reality, writing

It's almost 8 am, November 2, and I am now officially beginning NaNoWriMo.

Why the late start? Why did I not begin on November 1st?

Well, it just didn't seem right to start on a Sunday. Sunday is family time, and long ago, in a far away land, when I first began to be serious about writing, I promised that I would never neglect my family for my writing.

So my additional challenge is to get most of the 50,000 words done during the week days. I might cheat a few times and sneak in a little writing on the weekends. But only a little. To make up for Thanksgiving.

Yum! I love a good challenge, and a good turkey.

Let the writing begin!

Labels: family, life, writing

Done!

Just half a minute ago, I finished rewriting the last word on the last page of the last chapter. Of the Department of Temporal Adjustment, of course! Possibly to be known as the DTA, possibly by some other title.

I am ecstatic, jubilant, and so, so happy.

The sun is shining brightly--at least in my head. As I look out the window all I can see are clouds.

Go away, naughty clouds, I don't want you around today. I am too happy to put up with your depressing grayness.

Let that glorious sun shine through.

I don't need it personally, I have loads of internal sunshine.

I would just like to share this feeling with the rest of the world.

Labels: DTA, life, world, writing

Tuesday, October 6th 2009, I learned something wonderful. I learned that my husband truly believes in me.

He's always been supportive, but being supportive isn't the same as truly believing. Especially since he has known me for more than 25 years, and he is well aware of each and every flaw I possess.

When I began to write, my husband supported me in my 'little hobby'. He helped me carve a little time out of the week, bought me a computer, and listened as I talked of plots, characters, and sentence structure.

After I completed the first book writing was no longer a hobby to me, but a passion. To my husband, it stayed my 'little hobby'.

But yesterday he said four wonderful words that let me know he has had a change of heart.

He was telling me about his class. At the start of the year he had written a letter of welcome to all his students, and on Tuesday he decided to check to see how carefully they had read it.

After asking various questions and receiving the appropriate answers, he asked his class, "What does my wife do?"

One bright student answered, "She's a writer!"

My husband paused in his story to tell me that he told the student that the answer was correct. Then he went on to say, "I never even told them you are also a librarian, you've made the transition."

Have you ever heard four more beautiful words? You've made the transition! My wonderful, smart, not-easily-impressed husband now thinks of me as a writer.

I am happy. He believes in me.

Labels: family, life, world, writing

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, writing

I've been vlapped! No once, but twice.

It happened this weekend. We had a family birthday party, and one of the guests, a 3 month old baby, was giving his parents a hard time. I could tell the parents were upset and tense (they are new parents and haven't had him out after his bedtime before), so I offered to walk him a bit to calm him. I wanted to give the new parents an opportunity to enjoy the party and regain their cool.

I knew I could help, since I'd had plenty of practice with my own 4 children, nieces, nephews, neighbors, etc. I'm a pro at keeping the tension out of my body, which is key for calming irrate babies. A baby always knows if the person holding him is stressed.

Vlap! The father of the child told me that I would not be capable of helping. (Even though I've successfully managed to soothe multiple babies, multiple times.)

Okay, I thought. I'll just back off. I'm sure this man who has been a father for all of three months knows loads more than I do about handling babies. I only have a mere 23 + years of experience.

The party continued, and the parents were unable to participate. After about an hour the baby was calm, but not asleep. I asked the mother if she wanted me to hold the little tike so she could socialize for a bit.

Vlap! The mother of the child told me I would not be capable of helping.

So there you have it, two vlaps in one party.

What? You have never heard the term 'vlap' before? It is a term I picked up from the Jupitarians--it means virtual slap. It is used all the time on Jupiter.

I like the term.

And in case you are wondering, a vlap hurts like the dickens--just like a slap.

Ouch!

Labels: family, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, world

Don't tell Pepper, but I managed to get a picture of her. She is so camera shy. You would think I was a member of the paparazzi, and she was an over-worked movie star.

But before I show her new do, let me remind you of her old one. Note the dry grass. With her old fur cut, Pepper and dry grass were like the two connecting pieces of velcro. And just as hard to separate!

Since Pepper's visit to the salon I haven't had to de-velcro her a single time.

Here is what she looks like now (otherwise known as AFTER):





Much better, don't you think!

Labels: family, frivolity, life, world

The price for Behold the Eye trilogy has been lowered! Thanks for the new lowered price belongs to...

Pepper, the Wonder Dog!
Why do I call her a Wonder Dog? Well, she was getting so shaggy she looked like a little brown bear, and I had begun to wonder if she was really a dog.

You see, I've wanted to get Pepper's fur styled for a while, but she didn't want it, and she is from a stubborn breed. She let me know in no uncertain terms that she liked her fur long, curly, and matted.

I can't say I blame her. I also remember the fiasco that occurred the last time I took her for a fur cut. She left the pet salon scalped and humiliated. She looked like a naked mole-rat instead of a Schnoodle. She was embarrassed, and I was embarrassed for her.

So I had to be sneaky, which was okay since I had a plan. First I watched a few dog breed competitions on TV with Pepper, and I commented on how silly the shaggy dogs looked, and how great the groomed dogs appeared. I kept up my commentary throughout each entire show.

I noticed Pepper looking in my direction several times, which encouraged me to hope that my words were having the desired effect. (Although I must admit that due to the overgrowth of hair I was unable to read Pepper's expression, and she might just have been irritated that I was talking during her shows.)

When I felt we had watched enough pampered pet shows I put the rest of my plan into action. I laughed loudly at one well groomed dog told Pepper that understood why she wouldn't go in for a fur trim, that I bet she would hate to have such a stylish haircut.

Pepper just looked at me for a moment and looked away.

I asked what was wrong, and as she looked at me through her shaggy dredlocks I could tell she was ready for a change. So I told her that if she would gather up enough courage to trust someone near her with shears, I would gather the courage to go to bat with my publishers to get the price of my books lowered.

All is well that ends well.

Pepper is still camera shy, but if I get the chance I'll post her new stylish do!

Labels: Behold the Eye, family, frivolity, life, myth or reality

Today is my first day unemployed.

I once wrote a short story with the moral "be careful what you ask for because you might get it." Maybe, just maybe, I should have listened to my own advice.

I've felt for a while that it was time for a change, but I was afraid. I didn't know what kind of change I needed, what I should do to improve things. So I prayed for guidance, for a clear message that would let me know what my next step in life should be.

The next thing I knew, I was told that my position as Head Librarian in the school was being cut, and I was out of a job.

Gulp!

Message heard loud and clear: I had outlived my time at the BC school.

But what next? What kind of job should I look for? Where was I best suited.

Gulp again! I've applied for over 50 jobs this summer, with nary a bite. Another message heard loud and clear. I need to start my own business.

The time has come to stand on my own two feet. To be my own boss. To join the world of business owners.

Time for the next adventure.

Labels: family, librarian, life, world

I'm confused.
I'm flabbergasted.
I'm, well...I'm puzzled, perplexed, mystified, befuddled, bewildered, and baffled.

I just don't understand what is happening on the air waves today (or now that so much is digital, I probably should say cable waves). First there was the normalizing of language that makes me blush. This language has never found a place in my mouth, yet I cannot stop it from bombarding my ears. And now...

Last night I heard the following sentence: "I need to make sure the bookcases are functionalability." 'Functionalability'? Why the 'ability'? Why not good old 'functional'?

I had heard this same man use 'functionalability' several times before, but each time I assumed I had heard wrong. Unfortunately, I had not.

What is happening? Is it bad education, bad memory, or, or, or...

Eeeeeek!
We're being attacked, I just know it! What better way to weaken a country than to break down communication. And what better way to break down communication than to create multiple subgroups with totally different vocabularies.

I can see it now. Within a few years, popular music afficionados will hold long conversations with each other that sound a little like: "Have you seen bleep bleep bleep bleep? Bleep ate all the Cheerios bleep bleep bleep. I need to go to the bleep store and bleep bleep bleep buy groceries." (excuse the bleeps, I don't say those kinds of words)

While those who take a more homey approach will say to each other: "I flipped it with functionalability and styleousness, so my houseability reached mountaineous proportions. I think it's because of the vertacalability of my clothes."

I cringe at the next step taken by the perpetrators of this dastardly deed. What will they do? What is in store for our national vocabulary, which is being disintegrated one misused word at a time.

We must save ourselves! Rise up citizens, protect your mouths and your minds!
Read a dictionary!

Labels: blogging, frivolity, life, myth or reality, world

Reality TV is great, isn't it.

It is especially great for enriching our vocabularies. Since I've begun to watch HGTV, TLC, BRAVO, and the Food Network, I've heard words the likes of which I never knew existed. Words that are so new the dictionaries don't even recognize them as words yet.

Take for example one of my favorites verticalability - which seems to apply to fabric that creates a long, lean look by making the eye move up and down rather than side to side.

So I'll keep watching the shows, and I'll keep adding to my list of new words, because hey, I want to have the best vocabulability I can possibly have!

Labels: blogging, life, myth or reality, world

Most people can’t hide their true characters for any extended length of time—Jason Mesnick certainly couldn’t.

Oh, I’ll admit that in the beginning, he had me fooled just like everyone else. I saw in him what so many others saw, a clean-cut, successful, fun-loving, eligible bachelor. I wondered how he was holding up after the heartbreak he endured when he was rejected by DeAnna. I pitied him, having to rear his poor, motherless three year old son by himself. I wanted him to find happiness.

Again and again, I thought, “Poor man! All he wants is to find a good woman to make his family whole again. A woman who will be a loving mother to his cute little son, Ty.”

By the third episode The Bachelor had become a family event. All activity halted as we watched Jason struggle to uncover the true personalities of each of the 25 bachelorettes while maintaining a decorous distance. It was a difficult task, to keep the girls from throwing themselves at his feet, but he handled himself very well as he pruned away those he knew had no chance of becoming his own true love.

Immediately after the end of the show the phone calls would begin. “Can you believe how that girl acted?” “How can those girls be so desperate, don’t they have any pride?” “Poor Jason, having to put up with that kind of behavior!”

Yes, all we could think about was poor Jason. He was a man in a million, a glowing example of how we women wanted the men in our lives to act.

But as I said before, a person’s character can only remain hidden for a limited amount of time. Jason’s true colors showed as soon as Molly, Melissa, and Jillian had been given their roses, and all the other bachelorettes had been booted from the building.

I don’t know what happened. Maybe a strange wind blew in from the wrong direction bringing with it pollen from the Nasty tree. Maybe there was a full moon, and Jason decided he needed to howl.

All I knew was that suddenly, I no longer felt sorry for Jason—my pity had transferred to the girls. Or maybe I was just embarrassed for them.

What kind of respectable man made out with multiple girls on national TV, one right after the other? He said that he wanted to marry one of these girls, yet he viewed each with equal lustfulness.

Had he no shame? Did he not know the meaning of respect?

I began to wonder about his ex-wife. What exactly had broken up their marriage? Was he really only concerned about his son, as he said?

By the last show, I really wasn’t surprised when Jason dumped Melissa for Molly. I now viewed Jason with disgust; and his actions validated my belief that he was the type of guy who would ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’.

I was, however, momentarily surprised that Molly would take him back. Until I remembered that this seemingly sweet, confident girl had subjected herself to the humiliation of dating on national television.

Come to think of it—they were the perfect couple. They deserved each other.

Labels: blogging, life, myth or reality, writing

It's 102 degrees outside. It's a heat wave! Love it!

Inside my house is pleasant, but I must admit that outside is rather hot. So hot that my usually outdoorsy dog, Pepper, won't set a foot outside unless it is absolutely necessary.

If anyone is brave enough to open the front door Pepper's natural curiosity makes her get up to investigate. But she doesn't get any further than sticking her nose out of the door. I guess her curiosity is like coconut butter--it just melts away in the heat.

She is spending her day moving from cool spot of floor to cool spot of floor. I can't say I blame her. She is, after all, covered from head to foot with thick black fur.

My husband, on the other hand, I don't understand. He began to complain of the heat early in the day, while I still felt a tad chilled. What will he do if he needs to go outside for some reason?

Anyway, it is nice to not be cold for a change. I think I'll enjoy the heat wave while I can. From inside the house, of course. Where it is bearable!

Labels: family, life, myth or reality, world

You hear about it in the news every day. This company is cutting positions, that person is getting laid off, the person over there cannot find a job.

I guess now I am joining the crowd of unemployed, laid-off, job seekers.

I had a meeting with my boss today, and he told me that due to decreased enrollment at the school where I work, there will not be a position for me next year. So there will be no Middle School / Upper School Librarian.

I know I have a biased viewpoint, but personally I think someone is being short-sighted. Today's librarians don't spend all their time reading, shelving, and chatting on the phone. As a matter of fact, if I listed everything I did in a day this blog entry would become horribly long. So I won't.

But I am amazed at how often people don't really know what a librarian does. How much value we add. The place we hold in our modern information overloaded society.

Hmmmm. It was a lot of hard work, so maybe I shouldn't gripe about being forced to move on. I'll just let them continue to think that all I did all day was sit around and twiddle my thumbs.

Labels: family, librarian, life, world

Sigh.

Pepper is outside barking again. Every morning, every night, and several times during the day she runs outside and begins to bark and howl and make all kinds of noise.

I'm trying to be patient with her, but I cannot figure out what she is barking at! There are no cats slinking across her territory, no kamakazee birds swooping down to steal her food, no militant squirrels marching across the fence to their acorn stash, nothing. I can find absolutely nothing that could make her bark like this unless....

Sigh.

Now that I'm listening for it, I can hear it. Chuckles, giggles, and guffaws. It's the Jupiterians, up to their old tricks. Again.

I wonder if it would be possible to train a dog to ignore something that I cannot even see?

Sigh.

Labels: frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality

What a day Father's Day was!

Jade gave birth to a healthy baby boy, 7 pounds 12 ounces, 20 inches long.

Gazing at the child, I had to wonder what he will grow up to be. There is so much potential in his little self--why, he can be or do anything!

He is not yet a week old, so he is still so unformed, so young, that the color of his hair and eyes are a mystery. And what about his other characteristics? Will he be bookish or sporty, tall or short, husky or slender, bold or shy?

Ultimately, it really doesn't matter. He is a little bundle of potential just waiting to be loved by his family.

Welcome Connor.

Labels: family, life

It had been many years since I had a dog. As a matter of fact, the last time I had a dog for any length of time was when I was a child.

So did I forget what dogs ate, or are Schnoodles unique?

If Pepper (our Schnoodle) was allowed to eat whatever she wanted her diet would consist of 5 main food groups: the front yard, paper, wood, socks, and plastic.

It is bad enough that she eats our yard, but things inside our house aren't safe either. Around our house, "my dog ate my homework" isn't a joke, it is a fact. Anything left on the floor or on a low table is fair game for Pepper. Homework, books, credit cards, sunglasses, pens, pencils...you name it, she has probably consumed it.

I wonder who I should talk to to correct the name of her breed. She isn't a Schnoodle, she's a Schnoodloat.

They didn't really mean to leave out that she was part goat, did they?

Ummmm, or did they?

Labels: family, frivolity, life, myth or reality

Some days, I walk around and look at the pain and suffering on people's faces and I feel sorrow.

Not sorrow that the people are feeling the pain, everyone is subjected to suffering at some point in their lives. It is sorrow that 90% of the time it is self-inflicted. There is no reason to suffer.

The problem, of course, is that many, many, many people take themselves entirely too seriously. They stress about the little things, agonize over trivialities, focus on the tiniest flaws in their lives.

They spend so much energy and focus on miniscule mistakes that they miss all the good stuff. They have no room left in their lives for the things that really count, like butterflies, sunshine, puppies, and the laughter of children.

Lighten up people. Step back from your problems and take in a broader picture. You'll find that there is a whole world out there waiting for you to enjoy.

And yes, I too am sometimes guilty of taking myself too seriously. I have to remind myself to lighten up.

I have to laugh at myself. Or you.

Labels: life, world

Do you want to know my favorite compliment I have ever received?

It was when I was 17 years old, and it was given to me by a 17 year old boy who was madly in love with my best friend.

One day we were talking about the wonderfulness of my best friend and determining strategies he could use to get my friend to notice him. For a reason I couldn't understand, since there wasn't a natural break in the conversation, the boy became suddenly quiet. After silently looking at me for a several minutes he said, "You know, you are no raving beauty, but you are kind of pretty."

As a 17 year old girl I was devastated. I desperately wanted to be a raving beauty, and I was insulted and hurt that I had to settle for being "kind of pretty".

It was only years later that I realized the true intent of the compliment. He was not really commenting on my physical self, he just didn't know how to express what he meant.

By saying I was "kind of pretty" he was trying to tell me he valued my friendship. He appreciated the hours I had spent listening to him blather on about the glories of my best friend.

After all, it isn't every teenage girl who has the patience to listen to a litany of another girl's wonderful attributes. Again and again and again.

It isn't exactly a self-esteem builder.

So, after years of being bothered by the compliment, I'm happy to be able to say that I have figured it out. He was complimenting my good nature.

At least, that is what I've decided he meant. And I'm sticking to it.

Labels: history, life, myth or reality, world

To my darling husband,

I want to thank you for these past 24 years of marriage. I don't believe there exists another person on earth that I would rather have spent it with.

You are not only my husband, but you are my best friend. You put up with me when I'm cranky, console me when I'm sad, and give the best pep talks when I lose focus on my goals.

I sincerely hope I am as good to you as you are to me, and that the next 24 years will prove to be even better than the first.

I can't wait until next year! Silver Anniversary here we come!

By the way, I also thank you for taking me to see the new Star Trek movie yesterday. I loved it, and I love sharing great experiences with you.

Labels: family, letters, life

Sometimes, it is very difficult to separate fact from fiction.

There is a part in my new book where the main character gets trapped in a room. No matter how hard she tries, she just cannot open the door to leave the room.

I was writing that segment the week before last. I finished, put away my stuff, and went to the door to open it.

It was thoroughly stuck. The knob would not turn. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the door to open.

Lucky for me my husband heard my calls and succeeded in releasing me from my prison. Good thing too, since I'm a tad claustrophobic, and the only other way out of the room is through the window, the room is on the second floor, and I also have a fear of heights.

This week as I wrote, my character was again dealing with doors, and was very pleased that she was able to go through doors that were partially open. So she was careful to not fully close the door of whatever room she was in.

I looked over at the door of the room where I do my writing, and had to chuckle. I had not closed the door all the way, fearing that it would become stuck again.

So which way is it...is fiction grounded in fact, or do our real lives somehow mirror fiction?

It makes you think, doesn't it?

Labels: life, myth or reality, world, writing

I loved Mother's Day! I got to spend fun, relaxing time with my children...and they took me the Queen Mary's Tea Shop!

I had heard of Queen Mary's for years. It was one of those places that I had always wanted to visit, but had never taken the time.

I am so glad that my daughters thought about it, and took it upon themselves to make a reservation.

We were fortunate enough to choose the perfect time for our tea time. Since we were the last group seated most of the other customers had cleared out before we had even placed our order. It felt almost like we had the entire place to ourselves.

The food was delicious, the tea was perfect, and the waitress was chatty without being intrusive.

Loved it!

Labels: family, life, restaurant review

I just love the creative process!

Day one: Overhear something on the news that sparks my interest. Would love to write about it, but it doesn't fit my style. Decide to forget about it.

Day two: Idea won't leave me alone. Decide to work up a plot anyway. Frantically write down as many ideas as possible, but I'm frustrated that things just don't gel. Decide again to forget about it.

Day three: Spring awake in the morning with the plot fully worked out. It seems that my brain didn't want to accept defeat and so kept working on it all night while I slept!

Only problem, now I have the plots for five , maybe six, books I want to write! I'd better hurry and finish the one I'm currently working on.

Labels: dreams, life, myth or reality, writing

It's great being part of a large extended family, until the kids start growing up and graduating. It is wonderful to be a part of their accomplishments--but boy, it can be extremely time consuming! And tiring.

Of course, some years are better than others.

This year, we will be celebrating three college and two high school graduations.

Wait, does that mean this is a better year, or not? Five graduations is an awful lot of celebrating!

Labels: family, life

Just for the fun of it, I'm going to share the entire first chapter of the book I'm currently writing, "The Department of Temporal Adjustment". This is a very rough draft, and aren't I brave to post it unedited! I'm sharing it at this early stage because even unedited you can get the flavor of the story. I've had so much fun writing it, I hope you enjoy it!


Chapter 1

   “Look! There’s the sign! This is it, turn right here!” I yelled.
   I realized that yelling in an enclosed space like the car probably wasn’t a good idea as I watched my husband jump at the sound of my voice. He swerved to the right to make the requested turn, and then turned to look at me with astonishment. I am usually much calmer than this.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell,” I admitted sheepishly and cringed at the expression on my husband’s face. I glanced toward the back of the car to see if my loudness had upset the children who were being suspiciously quiet, and was relieved to find they had all fallen asleep.
    “I am just so frustrated,” I continued quietly. “Do you realize we have been driving over half an hour, and we still cannot find that stupid road?”
    “We’ll find it, don’t worry,” Tony consoled. “How are we doing on time?”
    “We still have another half hour before her appointment,” I admitted, “but that doesn’t take into account that we are supposed to be there 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork. So in reality we really only have 15 minutes to find this place.”
    I turned again to look at the sleeping children in the backseat. This wild goose chase of a drive had come about because my oldest daughter, Becca, struggled with chronic asthma. When I had heard that a neighbor’s child had been all but cured by one of the local doctors, I had immediately called to make an appointment for my child.
    The receptionist had firmly but calmly informed me that the doctor was no longer taking new patients, and that there was a long list of people who were waiting for an opening. Pride had flown out the window as I had begged and pleaded, and had somehow managed to convince the receptionist to find room for my child.
    So I knew that it was paramount that my family arrived for the appointment on time. If we blew this chance there was no way we would be given a second one. Which is why I had allowed a full hour for what should have been a 10 minute drive.
    Should have been. Unfortunately, the directions given to me by the office staff had proven to be confusing, unclear, and just plain wrong. Half the streets I had been told to drive past had never materialized, and it seemed that the streets we were supposed to turn onto were elusive enough that I was beginning to suspect they had either been renamed or they had never existed at all.
    I held on tight as my husband quickly made a right turn down a street that could only be termed residential. Another wrong turn.
    “Darn it! Sorry, I must have misread the sign,” I sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think we might as well give up and go home. We’ll never make it there on time, and there is no way they’ll give us another appointment if we’re late to this one. Why would they give such bad directions?”
    Tony made a block through the residential area and pulled back out into the main road. He drove for a couple of minutes, looking all around to get his bearings.
    Tony is one of those people who never truly get lost. He has the most amazing sense of direction of any man I have ever met. Put him in a city he has never seen, tell him where you want to go, and he’ll somehow miraculously get you there.
    Unless I’m with him. Somehow, I seem to have a talent for confusing directional issues.
    Tony pulled into a half-empty parking lot and turned off the car.
    “Okay, tell me again the directions they gave you,” my husband calmly asked.
    “They said to turn left out of our driveway, and then take another left…”
    “Wait, wait wait! The doctor’s office told you to take a left out of our driveway? How did they know that we would need to take a left?”
    “Oh, they didn’t. I added that part. I knew we’d need to take a left.”
    “So leave out the part you added, and read to me exactly the directions they gave you.”
    “Well, to be perfectly honest I didn’t exactly write them down. I mean, you know how people around here say go north until this road, and then go west, or east, or north by south west. It is so confusing. So when I wrote them down I converted them.”
    “What does that mean, you converted them?”
    “You know, got rid of all that north, south, east, west stuff.”
    “You converted north, south, east, and west to right, left, and straight?”
    “Yes, it was easy. I just remembered that if you face north, east is to your right, south behind you, and west to your left.”
    My husband closed his eyes for a moment and seemed to be muttering to himself. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but I’m pretty sure I heard something about the lack of common sense, how can someone so smart be so dumb, and that it might be true that blondes are airheaded.
    I was beginning to get a bit miffed as he mumbled under away under his breath, but I decided that I should probably pretend I couldn’t hear him and keep my mouth shut. After all, if Tony put his mind to it he might be able to get us to the appointment on time. I evidently can’t. I can only get us more and more lost.
    Tony stopped mumbling and pulled himself together. “So,” he asked in what I could tell was supposed to be a kindly voice, “what is the address again?”
    “It’s on 15th,” I said, looking at my notes.
    “Is that 15th Avenue or Street?” I could tell that he was trying his hardest to keep his frustration in check.
    “Um, I didn’t write that down. I only wrote down 15th N.”
    Tony slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, startling a pedestrian who just happened to be walking by as the horn beeped. He smiled and waved an apology to the pedestrian, and then turned to me.
    “Sweetie, I think I know our problem. I know why we couldn’t find the streets we’re were supposed to find.”
    I hate it when he calls me sweetie in that particular tone of voice. It makes me feel like he thinks I have the brain of a 3 year old.
    “How could you possible know why we were having so much problem just by hearing the name of a street? I mean, we’re on 15th right now!” I challenge.
    “Very true. But we’re not on 15th N. We’re on 15th NE.” His response was smug, as if he knew something that I couldn’t possibly comprehend.
    “15th N, 15th NE, what’s the difference. It’s the name of the street, 15th that counts, right?”
    “Not quite. 15th NE and 15th N are in different parts of town. 15th N is on the other side of the highway. I’m pretty sure it’s in Greenwood.”
    “Greenwood? I just don’t get it. How do you know what part of town by the N, S. E, W thing?”
    “NW is West Seattle, S is south of downtown, NE is over here near Northgate...,” Tony looked at my face and sighed. I must have looked as confused as I felt.
    “I’ll explain later,” he said patting my leg. I hate it when he treats me like a child. “We have to hurry if we want to get Becca to the appointment on time.”
    I decided to let the treating-me-like-a-child thing go for now. Tony evidently thinks he can still get us to the appointment on time. I'll deal with his attitude later. Probably. After all, I probably was the one who made us get lost in the first place.
    Tony took a moment to get his surrounding and I could see the exact moment when his internal GPS system kicked in and he figured out the best route to take. Amazing!
    “I think if we go this way....” my husband started to say, but I grabbed his arm to stop his words.
    I had seen the most unusual sight.
    “Tony,” I whispered, “do you see those men? The ones right over there?”
    “Why are you whispering,” Tony asked, “no one outside the car can hear you. And what men?”
    “Over there, across the street.” I gripped Tony’s arm tighter. “Those three men who are dressed like old-timey aviators. They are walking like they have a steel rod stuck in their back. All three of them. Do you see them?”
    “Yeah, I see them. But even though they are strange, I think there’s nothing to worry about. We’re pretty near the U district. It’s probably a fraternity prank, or they have to walk around like that because they are being hazed.”
    “I don’t know,” I say, wondering how I can convey the weird feeling I have about these men to my level-headed husband. “They look somehow beyond U district strange....they look like, well, like they are straight out of an old sci-fi movie.”
   “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, they are probably trying to join a frat. We need to get moving, or we’re going to be late.”
   And again, the condescending pat on the leg.

Labels: DTA, family, life, writing

A funny thing happened to me yesterday. I had spent most of the day preparing for my talk at the Olympia Timberland Library, stressed about those 10 tiny minutes as if they were 10 long hours.

After several hours work I was pretty proud of myself. I had finally come up with what I wanted to say, and I had almost nailed down how I wanted to say it. And how long was this wonderful speech? All of 7 minutes.

Can you tell I don't like to speak in front of strangers?

So anyway, I was still short 3 minutes. But what is 3 minutes! It had only taken me several hours to come up with those precious 7 minutes. No problem, right?

My husband, who is going to Olympia with me, wanted more information about exactly what was going to happen while we were there. So I immediately went to the library website to see what they had published.

I was a little surprised, but not concerned, to see a blurb stating that some of the authors were giving 20 minute talks. They must be the authors who enjoy public speaking. I was satisfied sticking to my 10 minutes, it was probably all I could handle.

But my husband wanted even more information. With a sigh, I dug out the email I had received so that he could read for himself the schedule for the day.

I almost fainted.

I am slated to give a 20 minute talk.

Maybe I can talk really, really slow.

Labels: Behold the Eye, Braumaru, Cerulea, family, life, Viridia, world, writing

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the air has that lovely crisp clean feeling that makes me feel not only alive, but wonderful. I look around me at all the beauty that surrounds me even here in the city, and I can't help but wonder how anyone could deny the existence of God.

I know people who vehemently don't believe in God. They claim that they are scientific people--beings who need proof of anything before they can have believe in it. Scientific proof. And since no one has ever successfully proven the existence of God, they will not give credence to the existence of a higher being.

They, of course, turn a blind eye to the fact that no one has been able to successfully disprove the existence of God.

I've thought about their view of the world, and it saddens me that they are denying themselves so much joy, so much hope, and so much stability. And all because they feel they are too educated to believe in what they call superstition, when in reality, they are too uneducated to really understand the scientific process. Because science is about questions, not really about answers. If we knew all about how our world works, if there were no questions left to answer, science would not exist. It would be dead.

It is true that science cannot prove the existence of God. But that is because science can only hope to find answers to questions that are quantifiable. Science works best if there is something that can be measured, changed, remeasured, changed again. If the scientist cannot manipulate it, then no experiments can be created and the whole thing is merely a theory. And theories are by nature only proven until someone else comes along and disproves it.

Of course, that means that since God cannot be disproven, God is a viable theory.

The funny thing about these self proclaimed "scientific nonbelievers" is that they'll eat up even the most hair-brained theories put out there by a scientist even if no proof is has ever truly been found. If they want to believe that this, that, or the other is true, they require amazing little hard proof.

Except when it comes to God. For them, God is the one theory they cannot accept.

Go figure!

Labels: family, life, myth or reality, world

I've just added myself as an author to the GoodReads site. It looks like a really good place to go to find new things to read.

I'm both excited and nervous about the upcoming bookfair at the Olympia Timberland Library. I know it's silly to be nervous about the little 10 minute talk I'll be doing. After all, I get up in front of people and speak almost every day.

But this is different. This will be a chance to speak from my heart about my books, something I passionately believe in. Which is probably the problem. I've already discovered that I am always nervous when I talk about my own books.

It could be that the more emotionally involved a person is with a topic, the more emotionally charged their speech will be.

Good grief! If I break out in tears I'll be horrified! I can imagine myself up there in front of the audience, blubbering away. Some people will be embarrased for me, and will look anywhere but in my direction. Others will get up and leave. Still others will snicker, glad that they aren't the idiot at the podium. At least one kind soul will bring me a tissue.

Enough of that nonsense! That is not the scenario that will play out! I will not focus on the worst that can happen, I will instead plan for the best. I'll wow them with my description of Braumaru, enthrall them with the concept of dream travel.

And, oh yes, I will somehow remember to breath.

Labels: Behold the Eye, Braumaru, Cerulea, life, publishing, Viridia, writing

I applaud your self-restraint! Not only did you stay away from my daughter's wedding--allowing it to be beautiful, wonderful, and event-free--but the absence of your pranks for an entire week was a wonderful respite. Just what I needed. I never knew you could be so kind.

What is that you say? You didn't know anything about the wedding? How can that be, when we've been preparing for it for months!

You've been gone on vacation for how long? Yes, I understand that it does take quite a while to travel back to your home world. And you being gone that long does explain you not realizing something special was going on.

But wait a minute, just last week someone moved my keys three times, the dog was acting crazy for no reason, and I tripped for no apparent reason.

Why are you snickering? What is so funny?

I am not forgetful, of course I realize the dog is still a puppy, and I do not have big feet!

Okay, I'll give you that. My feet are gigantic compared to your feet. Your feet are so tiny I can't even see them. But please, give me a break. Wouldn't I look funny trying to walk around in your shoes?

Labels: family, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality

I'm not afraid of failure, and why should I be?

Every failure, every mistake, every struggle makes me a stronger person, or at least they can if I take the time to pay attention to the lessons they can teach me.

I remember when I was a gymnast and I practiced for hours and hours every day. Almost never was I able to accomplish a new move perfectly the first time. It took try after try, flop after flop, until I would get the move down right. But even though throughout those many tries I would make so many mistakes that there was no way I could consciously keep track, I didn't mind. I knew that my mind and my body were both learning from the mistakes, and that it was only a matter of time before everything would come together and the move would be perfected.

The same holds true in all other aspects of my life. When I have somethng new to accomplish I rarely hesitate out of fear. I don't agonize over mistakes, since I know all I need to do is pick myself up, dust myself off, and try again. I will succeed, if I only keep trying long enough.

Which is why I say failure is my friend. As long as I continue to have periodic failures, I can continue to grow, to learn, and to succeed.

**Okay, this is really funny. I've already tried to publish this post 9 times unsuccessfully. If you see this, you'll know that I kept on trying, and succeeded the 10th time.

***Actually, it was more like the 20th, but who's counting!

Labels: life, myth or reality, world

I unsubscribed from 65 sites today. Later I checked my email, and I had 25 new ones!

BLAH!

Good thing I didn't say it was okay to give out my information!

Labels: librarian, life, myth or reality, world

As a librarian who teaches what to do and what not to do on the Internet, I often have the following conversation with my class:

Me: So you should never do that.
Class: Have you ever done it?
Me: No, I haven't.
Class: Then how do you really know you shouldn't do it?

Yes, I know I can give them very good arguments explaining how you can be sure that something is bad without trying it. For example, I know it would be very bad to be hit by a car, and it is not necessary for me to walk out onto a busy street to be sure.

Still, whenever I can safely give something a try, I do. I've edited Wikipedia articles, blogged, built websites, etc. But even for the sake of the students I refuse to forward forwarded emails, click on possibly bogus links, break copyright laws, plagairize, hack into someone else's account, or give out my passwords to anyone.

But I thought, I really thought, that signing up to do online surveys would be a harmless experiment.

Wow, was I wrong! Within an hour, my email inbox was innundated with junk mail, and not only from the survey group. I got email from:
• other survey groups, just in case the first company didn't give me enough surveys to satisfy my opinion-giving craving
• grant sites that promised money for free I could use for anything I wanted
• online colleges telling me I can get a better job if I just got a higher degree
• work from home sites in case I didn't want to leave my home to work
• coffee companies that wanted to jump start my day, whether I left my home or not
• insurance companies who wanted to assure me that if something happened to me they could make sure my family had all the money they needed
• debt relief sites that wanted to rescue me from all those nasty credit cards
• personal products like shoes, makeup, wrinkle-relief creams
• various things that make me blush, so I choose not to write about


Talk about an efficient group. They must have a very good system set up, to be able to share my personal email with such a diverse group so quickly. They have the skill of networking down pat.

I'll be cleaning this mess up for a while. But at least now I can truthfully say that I have first-hand experience that tells me it is unwise to give out my email to any site that I'm not 100% sure about.

And that you should not believe them when they say they won't share your information with anyone.

Labels: blogging, life, myth or reality, world

1. Buy the books for yourself (apparent, I know, but sometimes it really doesn't hurt to state the obvious. You would not believe the number of people who have asked me for a free copies of the Behold the Eye trilogy, even though I have to pay for the books just like everyone else)

2. Buy the books to give as gifts.

3. If you have ever purchased anything on Amazon.com, you can write a review. So go ahead--write one! (You could start with Braumaru) You don't have to use your real name, the author does not need to know that you are the reviewer. (I wouldn't, I promise!) The more reviews posted, the more popular the books seem, the more popular the books become! (People love to read what is popular, no one wants to feel left out of the know)

4. Make a list on Amazon.com that includes the books, and include other already popular books of a similar nature. You know the old saying, birds of a feather flock together!

5. Talk about the books to friends,acquaintances, and random people you meet on the street. (you might get the right person interested, and suddenly, the books are to be made into a movie. I can see it now, everyone will be talking about my trilogy. The bright lights of Hollywood, the...oh, sorry, I got a little carried away)

6. Teachers often read novels to their class. If the books are appropriate for school, like my Behold the Eye trilogy (5th grade and up), ask a teacher if he/she would read it to his/her class. Or, be still my heart, use it as a classroom novel!

7. Request the books at your library. Most public libraries welcome purchase suggestons, there is usually even a form online. (You do all have library cards, don't you?)

8. Ask bookstores if they carry the author...they probably don't now, but you never know, they might start.

9. If you come across a site that allows comments about books, don't be shy! Use every opportunity to get the word out about the books. There are a lot of people out there who would probably love the books (i.e. Behold the Eye trilogy) if they only knew about them. Spread the word! Spread the word! (You might even post a link to the author's site, which will also help.)

10. Books like the Behold the Eye trilogy are not backed by a big New York publishing budget. As a matter of fact, the small publisher who published the trilogy has an exceeding slim budget, one of those typically called shoestring. Since I want the books to do well, I have to do the marketing work myself. Alas I, like everyone else in the world who works fulltime and has a family, am very busy. So any and all support counts for a lot. If you want to help my books, it would be a very friendly gesture if you just let people know about them. Maybe we can find out if word-of-mouth advertising really works! (I struggled to come up with a really good metaphor about how knowledge of the trilogy could spread, but I somehow kept mixing growing flowers with exploding stars. It didn't work, so I'll just spare everyone and leave it out.)

Labels: Behold the Eye, blogging, Braumaru, Cerulea, family, librarian, life, publishing, Viridia, world, writing

This mornings writings (draft):

The first thought I become aware of when I regained consciousness was that I must have bumped my head on something as I entered the janitor’s closet. No matter that I had no memory of doing so and no pain, nothing else could account for the fact that I was lying on a cold hard surface with visions of flying saucers and ice cream running through my head.

I decided to keep my eyes closed for a few more seconds. The light filtering through my eyelids was blindingly bright. Or, to be perfectly honest, I supposed it would be blinding if I were foolish enough to open my eyes and let it in full force.
Which I had no intention of doing quite yet, since chances were that bright lights plus a bumped head would equal a raging headache. I hated headaches.

Gingerly I reached up and carefully ran my hand over my head to assess the damage. Encouraged by the lack of wetness I conducted another search, this time for sore spots.

No bumps. No gashes. No bruises. No blood.

But loss of consciousness, how could that be?

I’d have to think about it later. For now it was time to pick myself up, dust myself off, and head for the comforts of home.

Home. Safety, comfort, family…a soft warm bed. The perfect place for glorious sleep that I desperately need.

All I have to do is gather enough energy to open my eyes, rise from the floor, and drag myself to my car. Once I get to my car I can rest a few minutes.

No, no more thoughts of resting. I refuse to sleep in my car, on the floor of the janitor’s closet, or curled up under a bush somewhere between Denny Hall and the parking lot.

The sound of voices, a lot of voices, interrupts my internal pep talk. Instantly, adrenalin laced fear banishes the lethargy.

Were the weirdoes returning to the closet? Now, while I’m laying here vulnerable, half-conscious on the floor. I’ve got to find a place to hide.

Headache or no headache, it is time for action. My eyes fly open and I scan the closet looking for the perfect place of quick concealment.

Only, it’s not the closet I see.

Labels: DTA, life, writing

Everyone who writes has one. The little ritual that a writer will follow to get into the right frame of mind to write. Don't get me wrong, writing can occur if the routine isn't followed, but it won't be as efficient or satisfying.

Somehow, I've created an awkward ritual for myself. One that I can only follow if I have the buy-in of my family.

For me to have optimal writing time, I need to wake up in the morning, make a cup of coffee, and begin writing. The trick is, no one can talk to me.

It all began years ago, when the only time I could write was early in the morning while everyone else slept. So I got into the habit of rising early and immediately throwing myself into my task, usually before I even became fully awake.

Lately, everyone's schedules have changed and my former routine no longer works. I've resorted to other methods of carving out writing time.

Take this week for example. I'm lucky enough to have this week off of work, and lucky enough that other members of my household do too. So how to write?

Thursday night, a not-to-be-named person in my house really wanted a popsicle. So much so that this person agreed to make it easy for me to write this week, if I would go to the store and buy the desired treat. You had better believe I had the car keys in my hand and was out the door in a flash.

What is a short drive to the store compared to a blissful week of writing? There is no comparison, let me tell you!

Labels: family, life, writing

I love to write. To me, it is like going on a long walk in the fresh Spring air, with birds singing, the wind gently blowing, and the glorious sun shining. A walk like that usually leaves me invigorated and refreshed.

I love my family. They are funny, intelligent, wonderful, witty people---every single one of them. I adore spending time with them, chatting, laughing, and exchanging stories. Time spent with my family leaves me feeling loved and safe, like all must be right with the world.

So life must be perfectly grand, right? I mean, here I have too different aspects of my life that I absolutely adore, so if one isn't available, the other must be waiting on the sidelines.

If only it were that simple, but unfortunately family and writing clash horribly. It is my own fault really, because I can only write in a quiet environment with little or no distractions. Probably because the scenes I'm writing play out in my head like a movie.

So when a member of my family enters, the movie abruptly switches off. Ideas scurry away like a mouse from a cat. Thoughts disappear like smoke in a windstorm. My ability to write melts away like ice on a hot skillet.

Well, you get the drift.

Such is the life of a writer with a family, and frankly, I wouldn't give up any part of it!

Oh, by the way:

Viridia is now published! Look how fabulous they all look together on the Amazon page.

Labels: Behold the Eye, family, life, publishing, Viridia, writing

I can't believe it! I simply can't believe it! If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes...well, even seeing it I have a hard time believing.

I'm sure you wonder what I'm talking about, so I'll tell you. My dog has learned how to cook!

Don't believe me? Frankly, I don't blame you. I barely believe myself. But I've got proof, right here, right in front of me. An entire meal, hot and ready to eat, prepared while no one but Pepper was at home! (I've already called all my family and checked--no one has even attempted to take the credit.)

Even while in shock I can figure out what happened. I am guilty of underestimating Pepper's intelligence. Whether good or bad, and we have a genius dog.

It's funny. I had noticed the intense stares I received each time I entered the kitchen to prepare a meal. I simply thought that Pepper was just exhibiting the nosiness normal for Schnoodles. And, of course, that eternal hope that a little food would fall to the floor.

Little did I know that Pepper was watching me so that she could learn to cook. Amazing! I so misjudged her intense gaze.

But honestly, can you blame me? Has anyone else heard of a dog that could cook?

Hey, what is that noise? It sounds...I think it sounds...yes, it sounds just like the Jupiterians trying not to laugh too loud. Like when they play one of their jokes on someone and....

Wait a minute! Does that mean this was another of their jokes? Pepper hasn't learned to cook?

Sometimes life with the Jupiterians is a little too, well, unusual!

Labels: family, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality

I love the way students are curious about details of a teacher's life. And, given half an opportunity, how they will try to dig out a few extra details.

As I was teaching a class this week, the subject of a person's age came up.

One student piped up, "Mrs. Tabares, are you 26 years old?"

"No," I responded, "that would be pretty much impossible, since I have a 23 year old daughter!"

"Oh, you have a 23 year old daughter," chimed in another student, "are you 50?"

"No, I'm not 50."

"You're 27!"

"No you're 35."

"I think you're 65."

"Are you 43?"

Immediately, the entire class erupted into a multitude of guesses--a wide range of guesses.

Only a few took the time to add in order to make an appropriate guess. Just like I could not be 26 and have a 23 year old daughter, I was not likely to be 27 or 35 either.

I told the class I was somewhere in between their guesses, and that we had to get back on subject.

But in a way, their inability to guess my age was very appropriate to the subject of study, which was the difficulty of figuring out if a person really was the age they stated on the Web. I was trying to teach the students that the Internet was a foggy place, where it is very hard to see the true identity of a person. People with ill intent often give false information about themselves to gain trust.

I have no ill intent, and I in no way am trying to change my identity. Which is a good thing, since these students are as yet unable to decipher truths about a person standing right in front of them!

Labels: life, myth or reality, world

My daughter, who has her own apartment, has a cat. To be more accurate, she has a 3 month old bundle of mischievious fur that knows no rules and acknowledges no boundaries.

The patience of every person in this house has been put to the test this last week, as my daughter's little bundle of feline energy was brought to visit in this canine dominated household.

Commonsense told me that since both animals are still babies they would learn to get along if we gave them the opportunity to get used to each other. Conversations with other animal owners reinforced this belief. Predicted length of time-two days.

Well, things often don't go quite as planned. Instead of the predicted two days, it took a little over a week for my stubborn dog to learn to accept my daughter's pig-headed cat.

The cat repeatedly tried to prove to the dog that cats rule and have the right to roam the house at will. The dog decided that herding cats was a great game, and she was determined to keep the cat confined in one particular room.

The cat would make a break for it, the dog would pounce. Everyone would jump up to rescue the cat, since Pepper weighs about 16 pounds, and Jinx only about 4.

Of course, we also wanted to protect Pepper from Jinx's sharp claws. It is amazing how scary a tiny cat can appear if she hisses and shows her claws. And that creepy, low-pitched growl! That growl was very scary.

Or it was to the humans in the house. Pepper seemed to think the show of menace was all a part of a wonderful, exciting game. The more the cat hissed and swatted with her razor-like claws, the more involved Pepper became. Not only did she not back down, there was no holding her back! She seemed more like a hunter than our cute little puppy.

Luckily, we were forced to leave the two alone for several hours yesterday. I'm not sure exactly what happened but we returned to find them playing happily together.

What a relief!

Such is life that the new friendship will be broken up tomorrow, when the cat returns to her usual abode.

Labels: family, life

Step by gingerly step, Pepper cautiously inches her way across the yard.

The puzzled look on her face reveals her thoughts. What is this cold, white, wet mess that has hidden all the wonderful smells? Why does it stick to my feet? Will it hurt me?

Suddenly, she spots a lump in the snow that in some way looks familiar. Her innate curiosity resurfaces, and she trots over to investigate. Could it be, could it be....

Yes! Pepper jumps about in joyful glee as she digs her favorite toy out of the snow. The toy is cold and wet, but unharmed.

Pepper's whole demeanor changes in an instant. Fear is replaced by courage, cautiousness by speed.

A black blur races around and around the yard, defying slippery spots, overcoming hidden obstacles.

Pepper the dog, snow day racer deluxe. Zero to sixty in less than a minute.

Labels: family, frivolity, life

I was so happy yesterday! I ran a report to see which books have been checked out most in the last 30 days in my library, and was totally shocked to see Behold the Eye: Braumaru listed as #1! I ran another report, but this time for most checked out in 1 year. Braumaru was #4. Not bad for a book that has only been published about 8 months!

Then I got home, and waiting for me was a rejection letter from a contest I had entered Braumaru. Not only had I not won, but the reviewer thought that the book was too complicated for kids in Middle School, so they would become frustrated and not finish it.

Listen, I know that not everyone who reads my books are going to like them. This is a fact. I can live with it. I expect it.

But I would much prefer for the reviewer to state that s/he did not like my book rather than say that the middle school/young adult crowd are not smart enough to understand my books. That they would not be able to follow the storyline.

It makes me wonder if the reviewer actually reads fiction written for this age group. Does s/he not understand that books that have been dumbed down are quite often mundane and boring? Is it possible that s/he is not aware that the young mind is perfectly capable of handling and detangling complicated plots? Could it be that s/he does not know that a book that challenges while it entertains is a powerful encouragement to continued reading? Books need to be fun!

I am a mother, a librarian, and a writer.

As a mother, I've watched the reaction my children have had to various stimuli. And after watching, I made a conscious decision to be involved in what they were exposed to. Yes, I will admit it. I made careful selections (aka censoring) of my children's computer use, television viewing, and book choices. But my choices were never to dumb things down, only to keep out the inappropriate.

As a librarian, my job is to choose reading material that will encourage the love of reading and learning. I spend hours every day evaluating books to that end. What age group do I evaluate for you ask? Kindergarten through 12th grade. And to do this I ask a lot of questions of the kids, about what they like in a book, what keeps their interest, what makes them think!

As the writer of the Behold the Eye trilogy my goal was to write a story that I, as an adult, would enjoy reading, and that I could read aloud to my child.

Which is why I know some people will not like my books. The Behold the Eye trilogy has no vulgarity, no vampires, and no scenes that would make a person blush.

They are complex, interesting, and fun!

Labels: Behold the Eye, Braumaru, Cerulea, family, history, librarian, life, publishing, Viridia, world, writing

I am thankful for the many blessings I enjoy, and the most important blessing to me is my family.

Therefore, I am thankful for that first awkward, but strangely magical, blind date with my husband almost 25 years ago. Everything that could have gone wrong did. Which makes it important to remember that an uneventful date is a forgetable date.

Aren't I lucky that that first date was very like our marriage has been? Unforgetable, eventful, and full of surprises...surprises that my husband and I have learned we can always handle, as long as we handle them together.

I am thankful for my four wonderful daughters, who have all grown into beautiful, witty, intelligent, strong young women. I radiated pride yesterday at the family dinner when aunts, uncles, a grandmother, and cousins were able to partake of the numerous dishes my children had cooked, packed up, and transported to the get-together. To know that my children have grown to be so giving, so hard-working...it does make a mother's heart glow with joy.

I am also thankful for...what? You want me to let everyone know what you are thankful for? Why certainly, I'll read your prepared speech for you, though I am a little surprised. I didn't know Jupiterians celebrated Thanksgiving Day.

Let's see...it says, "We like to thank our fellow Jupiterians who have always given us support. We would like to show our gratitude to the Foundation, without whom we would not be here today. We would also like to thank the Saturnians for clearing a path through their moons so that we could make the great strides we have in space exploration. Without their help, it may have taken an extra millenium..."

Wait a minute, this speech isn't about Thanksgiving!

Yes, I know you are giving thanks, but it is not the same. Thanksgiving is about giving thanks for blessings, not giving thanks to people. Okay, okay, so officially they aren't "people". Still, I don't think you get it!

What? You are positive you know all about it because you watched it on TV? You saw a show about Thanksgiving on TV?

Oh, I see. You saw the Academy Awards.

I think I'll just let it go. Some things are just too hard to explain!

Maybe I should find a way to limit their TV time!

Labels: family, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, world

Jupiterians,

Word has been sent from your homeland that you are desperately needed there. You must drop any and all projects you have here, and zip back to your planet before it is too late. Quickly. Right away.

What is that? You think your project to slow down Viridia is too important for you to put aside?

But you must obey the call of your fellow Jupiterians. You cannot let them handle this crisis alone. They need your help. Now. Right now. This minute.

What is the crisis? Well...I think is is best that you get the details directly from those that are living the tragedy in your homeland. So you must hurry back.

Why did I get the message instead of you? Ummmm...well...there is a very good reason they sent the messge to me instead of you. They...they...they tried you reach you, but you didn't answer. They couldn't wait so they gave me the message to pass along to you.

The message? You must return at once before all the trees on your planet are destroyed. Your help is immediately and urgently needed.

Why are you looking at each other like that? This is serious! All the trees on your planet have developed a rare and deadly form of the Dutch Elm disease, and you must take a few of our trees back immediately so that you can start to replenish your forests right away.

Why are you laughing so hard?

Your planet doesn't have trees? It is made of gas?

I knew I should have paid closer attention in Astronomy!

Labels: Behold the Eye, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, Viridia, world

In my youth, I had a theory that people could easily be placed in generations based on their place in a family. If you were a parent, you belonged in the parent group, you were the parent generation. All parents were the "parent age", and should willingly hang out with the other parents. It worked the same with grandparents, who enjoyed the company of others of "grandparent age".

But then, people started talking about Baby Boomers. I was shocked to learn the long span of years that were included in a "generation". Around 20!

Okay, so here's something to think about.

A generation is defined as approximately 20 years. If I was born at the beginning of my generation and I had a child at the age of 18, my child and I would be a part of the same generation.

Totally destroys my theory!

Labels: blogging, history, life, myth or reality

Rrrrrrip, scratch, scratch, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

The strange noises broke through to my consciousness. But I'm tough. I shook my head to clear it, refocused on my computer screen, and resumed my writing. Whatever was making that noise could wait until I reached the end of the chapter.

Rrrrrrip.

Scratch, rip, shuffle.

The noises continued, but for me they were only background static. I was in my story, fully focused, totally oblivious to the world around me.

Until I heard the high-pitched squeal of a puppy in pain. The sound of a creature in pain is unmistakeable, and impossible to ignore.

But where was she? I knew she was in the house, somewhere.

The squeal alerted my daughter to possible trouble, and she began to search for her pup.

Rrrrrip, scratch, scatch, shuffle, rrrrrrrrip.

There was that annoying noise again! But now my daughter was on the trail and she had discovered that it was coming from under the stairs, the same place she suspected the puppy was hiding.

My daughter investigated, and reported her discovery. Now there is yet another fact my family can add to the "things I didn't know about puppies" list.

Did you know that puppies can chew holes through walls?

Labels: family, life, writing

I will be so glad when Tuesday is done and gone. It's impossible to get away from all the political ads, and my mind needs a break from all the nastiness and confusion.

But I have a secret. It's not a big, humongous secret. It is a little, annoying secret, one that I've already shared with my family and close friends.

You see, there is a candidate for Congress that I know one tiny little thing about. A tiny thing that shows what her character is made of, and that she doesn't know the meaning of ethics.

You see, several years ago I was laid off from my job, and my family was struggling to make ends meet. Times were tough, and I was frantically trying to get myself re-employed so that my family's financial stability could be restored.

I was estatic to have the opportunity to interview at Microsoft, and I was fully confident that I was a good fit for the job.

I met with the hiring manager, and the interview began. She seemed to be a nice woman, she described to me exactly what the job entailed, and I explained how I could accomplish each task, and how I could add value.

She explained that in order for her to make a decision, she needed to know my working methods and ability. Therefore, she wanted me to tell her my ideas about how she could restructure her site to make the information flow more easily.

After I had completed the task, she suddenly jumped up and said she had to go check on something.

About 5-10 minutes later, a young woman came into the office, and said she had been sent to escort me out of the building. I asked if it would be possible to thank the hiring manager for her time, and the young woman said that the manager was unavailable. She said I shouldn't worry about the abrupt departure, that the manager was "just like that."

A couple weeks later I was chatting with a friend of mine about her job search, and was surprised to discover that we had both interviewed for the same position at Microsoft. (It was easy to remember the name of this hiring manager, because really, how many women at Microsoft have the first name Darcy?)

My friend had left her interview with the task of creating a mock-up of a redesign of the site, to make it more esthetically pleasing. She had done the requested work.

A month later, both of us consoled with each other that neither of us had heard back from the hiring manager, which must mean neither of us were going to get the job.

Out of curiosity, we visited the site I had been asked to restructure, and my friend to redesign.

Shock! Total shock! There, replacing the old site, was a combination of our work. She had interviewed each of us, requested work from us, and combined our work without any recompense, without a "thank you", and even without a polite "sorry, but you are not hired."

And this woman is running for Congress? She claims to be ethical, looking out for the interest for others?

Hardly!

Labels: blogging, family, history, life, world

So where exactly is the dividing line between joy and sorrow?

Odd question?

Maybe not as odd as you might think. Because even though joy and sorrow are considered opposites, they often exist in our hearts side by side.

Take, for example, today. I am helping one of my children move out of the house, and into the dorm.

My heart is heavy with sorrow because I fear that I might lose her. I know that once she moves out of the house our relationship will never be quite the same again, not to mention that I won't be there to protect her.

From now own, every solution she discovers for herself, every bill she pays without my help, every experience she has without my presence moves her more firmly into adulthood. And everyone knows that although most adults love their mothers, they don't really need them. (Being somewhat self-sufficient and responsible for yourself pretty much defines adulthood.)

Besides, I won't get to joke with her about her day, tease her about her hair, give her a hug right before bed.

But here is where my question comes from. Residing right beside the sorrow is that other strong emotion, joy. I can barely contain how elated I feel that she has grown to be such a wonderful, mature young woman. I rejoice in the thought that she is about to begin the journey into adulthood, where she really gets to spread her wings and find out exactly what type of person she is (which is, of course, wonderful, talented, fantastic, etc....).

So when I cannot contain my tears any longer and I break down and cry--which I know I will--where will those tears come from? Where's the line? Will they be tears of sorrow, or tears of joy?

Labels: family, life

The book I'm currently working on is not written for the same audience as my first three books. While the Behold the Eye trilogy books were written for the middle grade/young adult group, this new book is more for adults.

Why the change?

Well, probably because I enjoy trying new things, finding new ways to do the same thing, and pushing myself to grow as a writer. My goal is "test the waters" in different genres by writing different types of books. I currently have the beginnings of a mystery, a series of ghost stories, and a science fiction.

Of course, the only one nearing book quality and length is the science fiction. I enjoy writing it, and it is coming along rather well. It is now 120 pages long and....

Uh oh, did you hear that?

When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut! Now the Jupiterians know about the next book, and they'll never let me get any peace.

Sigh. Here I go again!

Labels: DTA, life, writing

I remember...

Being awakened in the early hours of the morning by my husband. My 15 year old daughter had woken him up because of what she had heard on the radio.

I remember...

Looking at television, horrified that a pilot had made such a terrible mistake and crashed into one of the World Trade Center buildings. My heart ached as I thought of the families of the unfortunate who were either in the plane or in the section of the building that had been hit.

I remember...

Watching the second plane crash into the World Trade Center. My first thought was that the whole scene was surreal. It had to be some kind of publicity stunt for a new movie. One plane hitting was a trajedy, two was impossible.

I remember...

The sudden realization that this was no accident, this was no stunt, this was real, and this was an attack. Innocent people going about their daily lives had been attacked and killed. In America.

I remember...

The feeling of fear. Would more attacks follow? How would I be able to keep my family safe? How could life continue?

I remember...

Hearing of the attack on the Pentagon, and of a plane going down in a field. I'll never forget the look on my husband's face as we talked about what might come, especially after the plot against our country was discovered and then publicized. Suddenly the world had became a much more dangerous place.

I remember...

Realizing that this was not a series of events that would mark a single day, this was a series of events that would change every day. It was a lonely time. It was a stressful time. It was a time I never want to relive. Many things happened then, and in the days that followed, that I would rather forget.

But I'll remember...

That I am fortunate. I can empathize with the families of those who died on September 11th, but I cannot truly feel their pain. My loved ones were safe on that eventful.

And I pledge to remember...

That it was not buildings that were attacked, it was my country. And though it took a little longer than I would have liked, America took action. I'll continue to be proud of my country. And I'll continue to be in awe of the selflessness of people like my husband and other members of the military who regularly sacrifice to protect my country.

I sincerely hope Americans always remember what it really means to the an American.

Labels: family, history, life, world

I should have known! Today is Sunday, and the proof copy of Cerulea isn't here yet.

Doesn't it seem that the more something is anticipated, the longer it takes to arrive? Like...like...Christmas, or a loved one who has been away, or maybe a vacation. You wait, and wait, and wait and it seems that you have to keep waiting FOREVER.

Things that are dreaded, well, there is no slowing down how fast they come! A test, morning after a long night, and Monday appear magically. Blink your eyes, and there it is!

Labels: Behold the Eye, Cerulea, life, publishing

After years of listening to begging, pleading, and cajoling, my husband and I have caved.

We now have a Schnoodle. Not that it was particularly a Schnoodle that our kids were asking for, a Schnoodle is just the particular breed we chose.

What is a Schnoodle, you may ask? It is the cutest puppy in the world. Part Schnauzer, and part Poodle. She is 9 weeks old, soft, friendly, and cute.

We have had her 3 1/2 hours, and we have already taken her outside 3 times. So far, so good!

I hope we're not in over our heads!

Labels: family, life

Plastic. Everywhere I look there is plastic. Plastic bottles, plastic table cloths, plastic plates, plastic chairs, plastic spoons, plastic forks, plastic tables, plastic shoes, and on and on and on.

I wonder if the inventor of plastic ever imagined what a monster he/she was creating.

Plastic seems harmless enough. It's easy to clean, resists breaking, is light-weight, and can be make into any shape desired. And oh, it can last virtually forever.

Which is the biggest problem of plastic. It seems that creating things out of material that lasts forever may not be such a good idea after all.

But when it comes to environmental lore, how do we separate fact from fiction? Which stories are true, and which have been constructed to push an agenda forward.

Take for example the following story about the world's dependence on plastic:

Somewhere out there, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, there is a place where the water swirling clockwise meets water swirling counterclockwise, and a vortex is formed. This vortex has acted as a natural vacuum cleaner for the ocean, pulling in bits and pieces of plastic to this one location. The accumulation is said to cover an area the size of Texas.

My first thought is:

Texas! Couldn't it at least be a smaller state, like Rhode Island, or maybe Connecticut? And who, pray tell, is going to take on the gargantuan task of emptying the trash out of the vacuum? I can just hear the echoes across the world of "It's not my mess".

But then I begin to analyze. Who says this plastic Texas exists? Do they have an agenda they are trying to push? Has any reasonably unbiased group studied this?

So now I am reserving judgement. The report comes from a group that is not known for being unbiased.

This doesn't necessarily mean that the story is untrue, it just means that I cannot yet accept it as fact.

Labels: life, myth or reality, world

Sometimes there are inside 'jokes' that just need to be explained.

Take for example the following conversation I heard in my house last night.

Daughter: Let's watch a movie.
Dad: I'll go for that. What do you want to watch?
Daughter: Well let's see. We have 3 Netflix movies...'4 Muskateers', 'License to Wed', and 'National Treasure: Book of Secrets'. With a sneer Who put those movies on the list?
Dad: Let's watch 'National Treasure: Book of Secrets'!
Daughter: Let's not, that would be like cracker-related-catchphrase, which has been deleted per daughter's request.

We immediately understood what she meant, but anyone outside our family hearing this conversation would be seriously confused. So let me explain what 'cracker-related-catchphrase' means to my daughter.

All of my daughters love to snack on crackers of all kinds, so we typically keep several different types in the house. The two types we keep most often are Cracker brand 1 and Cracker brand 2.

A short while ago, Cracker brand 2 started appearing on store shelves in a variety of flavors. We, of course, had to try them all.

My daughter took one bite of cracker-related-catchphrase and was immediately hooked. These crackers burst with an overabundance of flavor, so there is little wonder that they can be immediately addicting. She was so enamored with the flavor that she ate almost the entire box in one sitting (unusual for her).

She then proceeded to become very ill. She has not eaten a cracker-related-catchphrase since.

So if she says something is like cracker-related-catchphrase, she means that it is overkill. Too much of a good thing is no longer a good thing. It's just too much.

All instances that might lead to the discovery of the cracker-related-catchphrase have been deleted at the request of my daughter. There is nothing wrong with the catchphrase. She just likes to protect her privacy.

Labels: family, life

I visited Universal Studios with a few members of my family. My favorite 'ride' was the tour of the studios.

Did I see any stars? Not to my knowledge. But I must tell you that people might look different in the real world than they do on the screen. The sets certainly do!

The truly amazing thing is that we took several pictures of the sets, and they look like they do on the big screen! Our camera is just as fooled as the more expensive, professional cameras. Can I ever again trust what the camera tells me?

Probably not, now that I've seen with my own eyes how easily the camera lies (or is fooled).

I particulary liked one of the older sets. The tour guide told how one side of the street has all the windows and doors smaller than normal, while the other side has larger than normal windows and doors.

Why you ask?

They would film the men in front of the smaller than normal doors/windows, so that the men appeared larger and more masculine. The women would be filmed in front of the larger than normal doors/windows so that they would appear more dainty.

Who knew?

Labels: family, life, travel

Years ago, when I was a child dreaming about my adult life, I had a vision of a life full of peace and serenity.

Oh, the dreams of childhood!

I love my family dearly, but they certainly don't bring peace and serenity. There is always something going on. Today, my oldest daughter is moving out of her apartment.

I don't mind helping her, but it sure is hard work!

Maybe I can count it as my daily workout. Lifting couches should be the same as lifting weights, right? And climbing stairs repeatedly is the equivalent of the elliptical trainer, wouldn't you agree?

Labels: life

There are days when I wonder why I'm living in this area. This is one of those days.

Here it is, June, and not only is there no sun, but the clouds are weeping!

What do the clouds have to be so sad about? They have no stress, no worries. All they do is float around all day looking at the view.

Come on clouds, get a grip!

Labels: life

I hope you enjoy your time with your children as much as I'm going to enjoy mine!

Labels: life