The Snow Leopard

The Christmas Meme

2011-12-04T21:48:00.001-07:00

I’ve been tagged by Herbie the Elf!

Christmas Meme is “an idea, behavior or style that spreads from person to person within a culture. Below are some questions Santa wants answered, and Herbie is taking a break from Dental School to get the answers from me. I hope they’re satisfactory. Herbie needs to get back to his studies.

1. Eggnog or Hot Chocolate?

Although I love both, I think eggnog has a little bit of an edge. Not only is it great by itself (or spiked), I’ll sometimes add it to my coffee on Christmas morning. Yum!

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree?

He wraps ‘em. He must do so when he gets to our house because sometimes the paper matches the other presents.

3. Colored lights on the house or tree or white?

White on the two rail fence in front of the house but colored lights everywhere else! We have a light-sound machine that coordinates flashing in time to music. So much fun!

4. Do you hang mistletoe?

Nope, just “over”. (Get it? Hangover??...Never mind…)

5. When do you put your decorations up?

It’s an ongoing project, usually starting after December 1st. and continuing for about a week or so. Outside gets done in a day or two but inside may continue through two weekends. Thanksgiving is such a wonderful holiday and I like to hang onto the glow of Autumn for a few days afterward. Christmas is overwhelming enough without pushing the pace.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?

We usually have a nice turkey, brined according to Alton Brown’s instructions. I could eat turkey all the time, but since it’s just the two of us, we have it on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

7. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?

Truth? What have you heard? And do we have to kill you now?

8. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?

Sometimes the cats and the dog will get presents which get opened on the Eve.

9. How do you decorate your tree?

We have a collection of new ornaments and heirlooms, as well as many Nature/outdoors-themed decorations. I even have Santa Claus paddling a kayak. My husband installs his train the weekend before Christmas and has it run all around the living/dining area where the tree is displayed.

10. What tops your tree?

It's embarrassing to admit it, but we have this really horrible, round, lighted thing that we got from a relative that has bits of tinfoil sticking out and colored mylar reflectors behind little Italian lights. In our living/dining room are 12-foot ceilings so we always get a tall tree, which makes this grotesque little thing seem even more pathetic. (Perhaps people will look at the train and not notice the tree topper!) But since we haven’t found anything to buy that we REALLY like, we keep putting that nasty cheap plastic circle with lights at the top of our tree. Maybe this year!

11. Which do you prefer receiving or giving?

Okay, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I love receiving gifts, but it’s fun to hunt down that perfect gift for someone else. I just wish I had a bigger budget.

12. Snow: love it or dread it?

I love how beautiful snow can be, especially on Christmas, but if I have to drive anywhere in it, I dread it, even with a 4X4 truck.

13. Candy canes: yuck or yummy?

Ooooo, they’re wonderful in hot chocolate! I used to buy the big one-inch diameter sticks and break them up to dissolve in my mug. I don’t do that as much anymore. Lots of calories, eh?

14. Do you remember your favorite gift?

I remember getting a doll called “Baby Bump-a-Long”. She drove around in a little car and you could ‘program’ her path with these little pegs in the bottom of the car. Santa gave it to me. Then one day she didn’t work. The batteries had corroded in the battery compartment. I still feel sad about that on occasion. It was one of the neatest toys I ever had. The strange thing is that no one seems to remember that toy. I’ve Googled it and found no mention of it anywhere.

15. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?

Setting up the train under the Christmas tree. We didn’t have one when I was a kid so I’ve borrowed this one from my husband.

16. What is your favorite holiday dessert?

Cookies, cookies, COOKIES!

17. What is the important thing about the holidays for you?

Renewing my faith in the goodness of humankind. Raising my hopes for the coming year.

18. What is your favorite Christmas show?

It’s A Wonderful Life is my fave movie but some years I watch the original Miracle On 34th Street ad nauseum. Also, A Christmas Carol with Alistair Sim.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?

The past few years it’s been the Bare-naked Ladies version of God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings with Sarah McLachlan, but if I were told I would only be allowed to hear one Christmas song ever again, it would be Silent Night. It is absolutely perfect, so peaceful and reaffirming.

20. What is your saddest Christmas song?

I don’t think I have one. As a teenager I used to get very sad listening to the Simeone Chorale Little Drummer Boy because the bass singers’ refrain “Hruumm! Bhum!” reminds me of my dad who died when I was 11. He used to sing that part whenever the song would play on Christmas Day. He had a wonderful voice and the richness that I remember still inspires me to sing richly whenever I sing. I guess that still chokes me up when I hear it.

Castle Mountain Recreation

2011-10-17T15:10:00.001-06:00

Do you consider yourself a hearty soul? Can you withstand rough winter conditions that test your mettle and callous your fluffy side against the harsh realities of Mother Nature?I have the perfect place for you to go camping this December: Castle Mountain Recreation near Bailey, Colorado. It's close enough to Denver to be easy to get to but man, when those two in the morning winds blow drifts of snow against your tent door, it going to feel like you're deep in the wilderness.Check it out!www.CastleMountainRec.comThey have fishing, boating, camping, hiking, snowshoeing, biking... it's all there. Just one entrance fee and you're free to any of these activities. Go for it and enjoy!

NaNoWriMo 2011

2011-09-19T08:30:00.003-06:00

This past weekend I attended the Colorado Romance Writers annual Fall Retreat, this year held in the Galena Street Mountain Inn in Frisco, Colorado. What a lovely place! If you get a chance, do stay there.

The retreat was wonderful, full of helpful presentations by Those In The Know and informal chit-chat by fellow CRWers who want to help. Also, there was wine (LOTS of wine) and all around good times!

One thing that really got me going (apart of the scheduled two-hour writing sessions) was the wonderful talk by Margie Lawson. There were several wonderful bits of advice, but one of the exercises is a way to set up attainable goals by setting up a list of items sorted into two categories: "WINNER" (which can be achieved within two hours or so) and "SUPERSTAR" (which is all the next in line stuff). I applied it to my plans for Saturday and it worked! The Winner list included "Write down possible storylines for NaNoWriMo 2011" and I got not one but TWO skeletal outlines for stories from start to finish.

I am going to FINISH NANO this year!

Wish me luck!

Flat Irons

2011-03-06T11:33:00.002-07:00

Parade

2011-03-06T09:46:00.003-07:00

Someone told me "Don't let anyone rain on your parade."

If it's my parade, I'd better start throwing candy to the crowds.

If it's my parade, I'd better start behaving like the grand marshal.

If it's my parade, I'd better start preparing my staging area.

If it's my parade, I'd better start deciding the order of my participants.

If it's my parade, I'd better start doing up flyers and sending them out.

If it's my parade, I'd better start finding bands to play lively music.

If it's my parade, I'd better start marching.

Ode to the Notebook

2011-01-25T14:22:00.004-07:00

What is it about a new notebook?

You open the cover to the first page, the white gleam marred only by faint blue lines to guide you across the page and a pale pink that leads you down. There's promise and hope in that blank virginity. Nowhere are the vague curls of past pressure. No reminders of previous events. Nothing to connect you to other projects.

All you can see is potential, the possibilities of a bright future.

Services for the wonderful Dawn Meaney

2011-01-03T17:55:00.003-07:00

I just received this message from the Colorado Great Pyrenees Rescue volunteer coordinator.

"Services will be held on Wednesday (1/5) at 2pm at the Tabor-Rice Funeral Home in Brighton (75 S 13th Ave, Brighton, CO, 80601). Dogs are welcome, but please be courteous and give space to each other because it will be emotional and our wonderful furry friends will be picking up on that too.

"From Ken: Dawn would prefer any donations be spent on the saving of the dogs. It is my belief she would have chosen Caretransport.org and Dr Schulmans fund called tails of woe . Dr schulman can be reached at animal health care specialists, 6701 N Washington, Denver? Colorado. Hug your families, hug your dogs, cry for us but do not send money to me or CGPR. We will be ok.

"Thank you,
"Ken + Brianna Meaney.

"The links to donation pages are here:
"Tails of Woe: http://www.animalhealthcarespecialists.com/donate/
"Colorado Animal Rescue Express (C.A.R.E.): http://www.caretransport.org/donate.html

"Please also feel free to bring pictures of the dogs who have touched your lives and Dawn's, and any notes/stories you might want to attach to them. Dawn always loved to receive updates and photos of those dogs that had found their way into their forever homes after having passed through hers."

I probably won't be bringing Torr; I'll be too busy crying to pay him proper mind.

R I P Dawn Meaney

2011-01-01T13:19:00.000-07:00

We got some very sad news last night. The woman who was the main shaker and mover of the Colorado Great Pyrenees Rescue died on the 29th. I can scarcely think of her without tearing up. What a special lady! She made me love Pyrs even more than I did before. If you do any praying, send one up for the dogs who were under her care. Although her husband and daughter seemed as dedicated as she was, I don't know how they'll go on without her. I don't know if I would be able to in that situation.

NaNo-What-Oh?

2010-12-03T14:29:00.002-07:00

I'm a winner... of sorts. I participated in National Novel Writing Month, intending to get fifty thousand words committed to a document, intending to make a good start to writing another Romance novel set in contemporary Colorado, some sort of adventure to take place in some part of this great state where very few people venture. Last year I did it. I'm a seasoned vet. It shouldn't be that hard, right?

When last year's effort seemed to breeze into and out of my life, I marveled at how few people were in the winner's circle with me. Dis wuz E-Z! Why didn't everyone come through with 50K?

Well, I know now why. To write a novel is very hard work, made harder by lack of planning and lack of commitment. Last year, I spent the last two weeks of October writing out note cards, doing character sketches, playing with outlines - everything allowed in the "rules". This year, I didn't even settle on a story until November 3rd, and it took me two weeks to convince myself that it was the right story. Hell, I'm still not convinced it's a full novel, and those thoughts in the back of my mind are making me question every word, every scene, every character I create. I'm struggling in a way I don't remember ever struggling to write before.

And this makes me a winner. You know why? Because now I truly appreciate how hard the act of creation can be, and I cherish every angst about my craft because it is a growing pain. I'm a better writer for it, and I will keep writing no matter the pain it causes.

I'm a winner.

Another Cool Quote

2010-10-28T11:40:00.002-06:00

"Substitute 'damn' every time you're inclined to write 'very';your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be." - Mark Twain.

Hannah Howell (author) posted this on her Facebook wall with the added speculation that it should be a much harsher (presumably four-letter) word.

Cool Quote

2010-10-28T08:25:00.000-06:00

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall."
Confucius

National Novel Writing Month

2010-10-28T08:01:00.004-06:00

Well, well, well...NaNoWriMo in just under four days...

Last year at this time I had a stack of notecards, all sorted by the colors that indicated their information (green for character info, blue of potential quotes/interactions, red for scene details, etc). There was a sense of "Will November First ever arrive??" I contemplated cheating by starting early and just counting that which I'd written as of the official start date.

This year - as veteran of a NaNo 09 win - I'm both cocky and distracted. Back then I knew I'd have no problem. Right now I'm worried that there won't be enough novelty to keep me inspired or that I won't find the going as easy as last year because of my commitment to other projects taking up my available time.

I have the excuses lined up, of course. "Whirlwind trip to Illinois" coming up. "Too many stories in my head" for me to decide upon. "Committed to my volunteer work" which is more necessary that my personal goals.

Fortunately I recognize these as excuses. They are - in reality - no different from the challenges of other WriMo's (or is it NaNo-ers?) and like the other participants, I simply have to organize my plate to fit all my victuals.

Or I can treat NaNoWriMo like a dessert; it will be on a separate plate, waiting for me to finish my main plate so I can enjoy it like a reward.

Irony

2010-10-07T19:57:00.004-06:00

"I refuse," she said with quiet indignation. "Even if I have only choice of that or dying, I would continue to refuse."

I nodded with understanding, recognizing that some bit of information had been presented to her in the past that changed her life forever.

"So you don't drink anything but bottled water? Even in your own home you don't draw from the tap?" I asked, pretending to be unclear on her meaning.

"Not for drinking. Ugh! Poison! The stuff the city sends through the pipes is nasty. It will give you any number of noxious bugs immediately, and if you manage to avoid that, the chemical treatments in it will give you cancer."

Then she took a long angry pull from her cigarette, a last draw down to the filter.

Again I nodded with understanding.

Really?

2010-07-03T11:39:00.002-06:00

MemDay Weekend

2010-06-04T10:04:00.004-06:00

I've drawn a complete blank about additional wisdom from my mother, and the WAG #25 assignment has left me uninspired to the topic, so I thought I'd post a photo I took this past weekend while chasing steam locomotives down near Chama, New Mexico.

This image was captured lying in a ditch near a grade crossing. Believe me, I checked carefully for rattlers and bullsnakes before settling in. Also, I was certain that a young man, who had set himself up by the RR crossing sign was going to be in my photos, but the train was kind enough to obscure him while still allowing the RR sign to be seen. Timing is everything. :)

Wisdom of Marcie #2

2010-06-03T07:12:00.000-06:00

When you buy bar soap, unwrap it from its plastic packaging and store it in the linen closet. Not only will it scent your towel, it will "dry out" and last longer in the bathroom when put into service.

Wisdom of Marcie

2010-06-02T11:18:00.001-06:00

Always comb your hair before you get into the shower. It keeps the loose hairs from clogging your drain.

WAG #24 - The Unexpected

2010-05-26T15:37:00.002-06:00

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The Goddess of Strife and the Big Blow

2010-05-24T19:55:00.005-06:00

Hello, friends.

I took Sunday off because it was simply too nice to be inside.

I'm posting late today because the weather here in CO was a big blow. There's a personal weather station up the street (that posts its info on the InterNets)which was showing gusts of 30 mph and sustained winds of 20. We've had brown-outs around here often enough that I dared not have the computer on, in case we lost power. I had a UPS but that failed just last week.

I think the other reason I've been lackadaisical about posting is the WAG #23 I put up the other day. Part of it was the fact it hit close to home, being that the dear husband and I are motorcyclists. The other part was the inspiration of the story, which was someone on Facebook who I feel takes too many chances.

The world is a dangerous place, and I am sometimes bothered by my relative safety. I have at least three friends (possibly more) who have had issues with stalkers. Granted, they're all better looking than I am, but this has never been something I've worried about. Do I put a big social shield out? Perhaps I exude a sense of "Don't Fuck With Me?" that keeps all but the nastiest people away?

The Dear Husband and I were discussing a news story he saw about the Colorado Preppers. One of the members was boasting how he and his family had enough food to tide them over for a year, in preparation for a disaster. It seemed a bit excessive, while at the same time, we have enough food to hold us over for at least two weeks, should we get snowed in. We have our own well and a generator and headlamps and sleeping bags and a tank full of LP... I guess we're preppers too.

Rebel preppers, cuz we don't hang out with other preppers.

Is it the motorcycling that has made us into such cautious people? On a bike, you can't trust other people to behave properly behind the wheel, and when they don't, YOUR safety is in your hands and your anticipatory paranoia.

The years of being cavers certainly have driven us towards self-sufficiency. When bad things happen in a wild cave situation, it's easy for the situation to go pear-shaped really fast. That's the time when 'self-rescue' is the hope and 'full-rescue' is the nightmare. The Texas Region caving community (for a while) was listing the phone number of a funeral home in case of emergency.

Okay, that was just an asshole thing to do... but it did kinda sum things up.

Anyway, we're of a self-sufficiency bent, and part of the process is to anticipate what can get you into trouble. No, we don't lock ourselves in the house and never leave - we do like to enjoy life, after all - but we have gotten into the habit of not provoking trouble. The Goddess of Strife is a mean old bitch, and she'll get you whenever it pleases her.

Well...I've rambled enough. Tomorrow is Suesday, writer's group, lunch with a fellow writer, trip to the grocery store, human interaction. Hope you enjoy it, too.

This Is Bad...

2010-05-22T16:18:00.002-06:00

I still can't find the rest of my wedding photos. I'm starting to panic...

Just a Dreamer...

2010-05-22T09:28:00.006-06:00

Much to my husband's presumed disappointment, I am not helping him with home maintenance chores today.

Instead, I am dreaming.

Last night I printed out the first twenty pages of what (I hope) is the final draft of The High Bridge. Diligently, I put it in a binder. Then I printed out my proposed bookcover idea and slipped it into the clear-view sleeve on the front of the 3-ring binder. Then I sighed and thought "Some day soon. I just know it."

Yes, I'm just a dreamer.

WAG #23 Consequences

2010-05-21T20:49:00.005-06:00

Cally had forgotten soda has caffeine. He’d forgotten how sensitive he could be to caffeine, but when there was nothing else to wash down dinner, he drank it.

He was puzzled why he was managing to catch the eleven o’clock news. The program was already showing the weather forecast when he realized he really needed to go to bed.

The pillow… hurt. It didn’t seem as comfortable tonight. Of course, his head was filled with those horrible news events. What a terrible world.

Might as well stay up and read. Hmmm… fantasy book, Terry Pratchett, Discworld.

He woke when the book fell off the bed. He couldn’t figure out why the light was on. Oh, yeah, the bad news on TV kept him up.

Now he couldn’t get back to sleep.

Might as well stay up and watch TV.

There was nothing on but info-mercials. Who buys this crap?

Wow, that VacSharkSucker does a really good job. Where did he put his wallet? He’d figure out a way to replace the rent money later.

He woke to the morning news on TV. Why was the TV on? Why wasn’t he in bed?

Oh yeah, got worried about the security of his debit card number after giving it to the people on TV. He’d watched a little longer; they seemed trustworthy.

He hadn’t been awoken by his alarm however; he had to be at work in an hour.

Raced through heating water in the microwave while getting dressed. Poured the instant powder into the cup.

He ran straight into the hall closet door that he left open. Banged his nose. Coffee on his shirt. Coffee on the carpet. And dammit, he now had no coffee.

Time to pull a college trick; instant coffee mixed into a can of soda.

He’d have to down the soda, because he rode a motorcycle for his commute. The jolt would be a bit of a shock, but he was certain that the shakiness would stop by noon.

Too bad about the car getting repossessed. He would have sold it but he owed more than it was worth.

He zipped in and out of traffic on his Honda, trying to make up for lost time spent changing into clean clothes.

The VacSharkSucker was half his rent money. How was he going to pay it back?

He shouldn’t have bought it. He couldn’t afford it.

Hey, Mother’s Day was coming up. Had his sister gotten anything for Mom? Would she go half-zees on the thing? It was so cool. Maybe he could get his sister to help pay for it.

Thinking of how to scheme against his sister, he didn’t notice that the traffic light before him had turned red. There was a bus about to intersect his path.

The bus driver had forgotten how greasy pizza was. He’d forgotten how sensitive his stomach could be to grease, but when there was nothing else for dinner, he ate it.

He was surprised at how much pain he felt; enough to keep him from getting to sleep, so he stayed up way past his bedtime to watch the news and wait for the antacids to kick in.

When they did, he went to bed.

The pillow…hurt.

WAG Topic #23: “Ripple”. When our characters walk their worlds, the world reacts. So for this week, look only at reactions. Observe a person and describe the reaction of the world to them. What can you tell about them based solely on the reaction of others? What kind of impression are they making on the world, the environment, the people around them, even on you? What is changing (even subtley) because of their existence? Are they aware of it? No Rules! Now Write! (Now, instead of a deadline we have an ending date. You may add links to this list between now and 25 MAY 2010.)

Because I Haven't Procrastinated Enough Today...

2010-05-20T13:35:00.004-06:00

But is it art...?

The world may never know...

The Quality of My Cooking Is Alarming!

2010-05-19T22:36:00.004-06:00

It's almost summer, right? Summer means grilling, and being from the midwest, it particularly means (to me) BRATWURST! And being daughter of a Wisconsin woman, it means BEER!

So, as per usual, I was getting our brats ready by melting some margarine in beer until it came to a simmer, then I threw in the brats and some sliced onion. Usually I have great success with this, although it's not the fastest way to cook brats.

The funny thing is the smell of simmering beer absolutely FILLED the house today, sorta like a tavern on St. Patrick's weekend. I didn't think too much about it until...

THE CARBON MONOXIDE & EXPLOSIVE GAS DETECTOR BEGAN TO SCREAM AT 200 decibels! The display was flashing 'GAS - 215'. I yanked the unit from the wall outlet and smothering it against my side, ran for the back door. I leaped outside and began waving the bastard unit in the air, trying to get the sensor to clear. I finally got it to shut off. I stared at it a moment, wondering what it meant.

Our appliances are electric, except for the water heater and the furnace. It was a nice day, so the furnace hadn't fired up at all. I hadn't washed any dishes for a while so the water heater hadn't run.

Could beer and onion be considered noxious fumes?

I stepped back into the kitchen and stared at the CO detector. At first nothing, but 30 seconds later 200 dBs and a flashing display again "GAS!!! 215!!!" Once again I dashed out of the house, intermittently pressing the reset button while waving the unit in the air again! It finally went silent and I set it on the patio table.

That's where it remained until dinner was done and we'd finished eating.

I must say, those were the best tasting brats I've ever made. I think I'll send Kidde the Smoke Alarm people my special recipe!

Tuesday

2010-05-18T06:50:00.004-06:00

I love Tuesday.

Tuesday is Writing Group Day.

Tuesday is confirmation that Monday is over.

Tuesday is without a title like "Hump Day" or "Friday Eve" or "Weekend Launch Day".

Tuesday is unimposing, except for the occasional Two For Tuesday Sale, which is usually a good thing.

Tuesday is Sue's Day.

I love Tuesday.

Okay, Where Has This Blogger Been All My Life?

2010-05-17T13:23:00.004-06:00

This blog was tweeted by India Drummond, WAG Master Extraordinaire. The link India tweeted went to a wonderful post that explained a hero's arc, clearly and distinctly.

http://writingnodrama.blogspot.com/

I liked the perspective of post and read more of this writer's posting. Really quite enjoyable. Check it out.

WAG #22 Hero

2010-05-17T08:08:00.006-06:00

He was bald.

It was a funny-odd thing to look in the mirror while getting ready to go out in the morning. He still wasn’t accustomed to the round dome, looking like a moon rising from the horizon. The skin was pale and evenly colored except for the white scar just over his ear.

His brother’s fault; a careless fling of the swing on the playset. He remembered falling into the grass and crying as the red blood contrasted on the green blades. And when his mother came running with the towel, he cried even harder. Mom never panicked about anything; this was something different. Maybe he’d get some ice cream from the deal.

It seemed so long ago now. Things had not been normal for a long time.

The collar of his tee shirt was sitting funny. He tugged at the bottom front, stretching the bright white cotton until he felt the band digging into the puffy skin on the nape of his neck. That wouldn’t work. He reached behind and tugged the tail until the front felt choking again. He stuck out his tongue in an exaggerated choking manner and pulled the front again.

No choking. He had enough of that every time he took his pills, the pills he hated because it made his skin puffy and his shirt fit funny and his hair fall out.

It wouldn’t be long now. Everyone said so. Just believe it would be alright and it would be.

Except when he woke up with a headache or had to sit down to rest after only ten minutes or when his favorite foods looked like piles of last week’s leftovers. It was hard to keep the faith when he couldn’t even enjoy macaroni and cheese.

He stuck out his tongue again and stared at it a moment. It felt like it should be covered with fur, but nope, just the blotchy discoloration of a sickly human. He pulled it back into his mouth and grabbed his school bag.

His mother stepped to the door. She was dressed in her Winnie the Pooh tee shirt, a sight he’d grown to hate. It meant needles and tests and antiseptic smells.

“Sorry, sweetie. No school today.”

“Aw, Mom…”

WAG #22: “A Real Hero”. In fiction, often every hero looks like the other, with broad shoulders and a chiselled features, and the heroine always has an oval face and rosebud lips. (Okay, so these are the worst examples!) So for WAG #22, observe a stranger you think would make a good main character, and describe their physical features as accurately as you can (and without cliche) so we can see them as real individuals and not cardboard cut-outs. Feel free to transport those people into your fictional world, or just describe them as you see them in their real environment. No Rules! Now Write!

Oops! Missed yesterday!

2010-05-16T16:16:00.003-06:00

My apologies to you that I didn't post yesterday; it was Replace-The-Water-Heater Day. Lots of excitement. David did a great job. No leaks. No damage to the walls.

Today, we gardened a little before going to Costco. I moved bricks around the yard and mowed the area that can't be reached by the riding mower. I'm sore. I'm tired.

I don't have anything to say today, except a wish for you to have a great day.

Here's an interesting post about famous authors who have been rejected for now-famous/successful works. Enjoy.

Third Post of the Day!

2010-05-14T09:48:00.002-06:00

I'm thinking of changing the header art work, primarily because I have these cool new fonts, not because there's something wrong with the current one.

Anyone have an opinion one way or the other?

Edit, Edit, Edit!

2010-05-14T09:44:00.004-06:00

I'm currently working on editing my MS The High Bridge, but I'm having 'trouble'.

It's not because I don't know what or how to edit. The problem seems to be the media used while editing.

If I sit at the computer and go over the document, I don't find nearly as much as when I have the stack of printed material in front of me. The words leap into order when down in black and white, and I find lots of markup situations. The problem with editing hard copy is somehow I never find time to sit down and transfer the changes into the electronic document.

Does anyone else have this tendency of not doing well in a particular media? Do you find yourself editing better in one form over another?

Graphic distractions

2010-05-14T09:31:00.002-06:00

Sorry to have not kept my promise of posting every day, and I might as well admit now that my idea of Motorcycling Monday will not be developed as stated (simply because it's a case of "Well, you just had to be there" regarding the adventure stories).

The reason I'm been so lax in posting is that I've been collecting fonts and graphics to enhance my ability as a graphic composer. Apart from the Graphic Worm I'm participating in, and the flyers I do for the state park, I'm also trying to work up something interesting for my website www.SusanOShields.com, whether it be background or 'signs' or whatever.

Any way you slice it, I'm learning lots and making great strides to releasing my creative tendencies.

But you'd like to see more writings, no doubt. Excuses be damned! My distractions will be overcome.

Snow! Do you believe it?

2010-05-12T16:11:00.002-06:00

I couldn't believe it when I awoke in the middle of the night and found snow falling. I went back to sleep, and when I got up again in the morning, I was surprised all over again.

SNOW! It's May 12th! We're not in the mountains! It's just over a month until Summer begins!

What is this white stuff?!?!?!

Sigh...welcome to Colorado. By noon, it was entirely melted and gone.

Mashup

2010-05-12T07:22:00.002-06:00

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Posting

2010-05-10T12:10:00.004-06:00

I've been wearing myself out as a couch potato the last couple of days. My husband put on the DVD for Long Way Round with Ewan McGregor & Charley Boorman. When it was done (nine broken hours later), I had an urge to watch Long Way Down.
It reminded me so much of the different adventures David and I have had on our bikes and makes me want to get on them and take off. Life is too short to always play it safe.
If possible, I'd like to post a motorcycle themed entry on Mondays, just to get the week started out with fun and excitement. We'll see how that goes.

Happy Mom's Day!

2010-05-09T12:22:00.002-06:00

Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there, and even to those who are matronly or maternally inclined! I hope you get a bouquet of your most favorite flowers!

6th Annual Online Auction for Diabetes Research

2010-05-08T18:54:00.005-06:00

I am committed to blogging every day, even busy ones like today. I shall not fail! I will succeed!

Well, I will fail in one regard, and it's only a minor setback. I had intended to tell you on May 1st about the Brenda Novak's 6th Annual Online Auction for Diabetes Research. http://brendanovak.auctionanything.com/Home.taf

However, it's never too late until it's over, so please follow the link and take a peek. Ms. Novak's auctions have raised hundreds of thousands of dollars in much need funding. There's a variety of options; perhaps there's something for you too!

National Letter Carriers Food Drive

2010-05-07T10:05:00.002-06:00

Please go through your pantries today and find a can or package of nonperishable food. Tomorrow is the Stamp Out Hunger collection day. If you and four of your neighbors were to put out one can each, that could provide enough food to make one evening meal for a destitute family.

The National Letter Carriers, the US Postal Service, Campbell Soup and many worthy organizations are sparing time and effort for this. Please spare the cause a can or two of soup or rice.

Thank you.

Clichés are cliché

2010-05-06T12:42:00.003-06:00

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:1885_Punch_three-volume-novel-parody_Priestman-Atkinson.png

I was looking for the word 'cliché' with the accent on the 'e' to copy onto my last blog post and came upon a cartoon from 1885 about hackneyed phrases used in novels. I thought it was funny that many of the clichés are still used. I absolutely LOVE the literal translations.

WAG #21 - Message in a Bottle

2010-05-06T11:10:00.006-06:00

“WAG #21: Message in a Bottle” It’s part of human nature that we sometimes wish we could communicate with our younger selves, our unreasonable selves, our subconscious selves, our self-destructive selves, our more innocent selves, or any number of other us-es that we all seem to have within. In this week’s WAG, consider the way we talk to ourselves, the tapes we play inside our heads, and write a piece: fiction or non-fiction, about yourself, a character, or someone else. As usual no limits and no rules. One-two-three Write! (This week’s theme suggested by Kate McIntire. If you have a theme suggestion, please write to me.)

When I read what the suggested topic was for Writing Adventure Group, I misunderstood that we were supposed to write about sending ourselves messages back through time to our younger selves. My first thought was "I'd tell myself to finish college." The second thought involved some rather personal stuff about my family relations and my childhood. The third was...

Well, you get the picture. It seems everyone wishes they had the same warnings 'way back when'. "If only I knew this, that and the other thing, my life would have been so much better," we tell ourselves, and it may or may not be true. It's nice to have insider information, but if you're not wise enough at that time to have the foresight on your own, what good will being given the advice do?

I am (if I understand the term correctly) an existentialist. I tried wishing that some of the things in my life haven't happened. Complaining about them certainly hasn't done much good - the opposite, perhaps. Things are what they are as they exist right now. I've gotten into the habit of dismissively shaking my head at some of my memories and mentally patting myself on the back for not allowing these things to completely ruin my future.

It is trite. It is cliché. It is ubiquitous.

It is what it is.

Seven Month Itch

2010-05-06T10:39:00.005-06:00

November is National Novel Writing Month (a.k.a. NaNoWriMo). For those who participate, I think it's a kick in the butt for people to get The Great American Novel out of their brains and onto paper or into the computer.

I was successful in 2009. By November 22, I had a 69,000 word first draft done and immediately began editing. I was so glad to have completed something, especially since I suffered such despair over my previous manuscript Destiny of Honor that was five years old and 247K long. Having The High Bridge done in record time and of a reasonable length sent me into the throes of ecstasy!

Then I sent it out for friends and/or crit partners (beta readers?) and got my butt kicked. It was in a good way and well-intentioned, but a beating is a beating. Sometimes you're too involved in a relationship to see what's wrong with the object of your affection and a friend has to come along and tell you "He's flawed. You can do better!" I found out that my love was a pretty good story but covered with warts.

I've spent the last five months working with this love of my life but have decided to send 'him' off to the big bad world to test if anyone else can grow to love 'him' as I have. Dressed 'him' up and sent 'him' out.

Unfortunately, I've grown lonely. I'm grabbing my notecard pile (my fertility potion) and plan to make an exciting new love, without the kick in the pants provided by NaNoWriMo.

Wish me luck.

Happy Battle of Puebla Day!

2010-05-05T13:32:00.004-06:00

Learned something today when I wiki'd Cinco de Mayo.

I knew May 5th wasn't Mexican Independence Day but was, in fact, the celebration of winning a battle with the French. I didn't know the significance.

Okay, okay, it was one battle. The French ultimately won the war in 1862 and occupied Mexico with a puppet "emperor" by the name of Maximilian I. The US put pressure on France to leave, which they did. This opened the door for Benito Juarez to depose Max I five years after the Battle of Puebla.

Here's the thing that's so noteworthy; the well-equipped, well-trained French Army outnumbered the Mexicans 2-to-1! It was 8000 soldiers up against 4000 unprepared and technologically deficient Mexicans. Absolutely amazing!

So, while you're sipping (or gulping or quaffing) your strawberry margarita, try to be as happy as those fighters back in 1862.

Oh, and make certain you pay your tab, since that whole thing started because Juarez declared he wasn't paying back the French a debt run up by a previous Mexican government.

It's up!

2010-05-04T08:35:00.002-06:00

My new website is up. Okay, so it's bare and rather amateurish, but it's a work in progress.

Please take a moment to visit www.SusanOShields.com

Yay! It's Tuesday!

2010-05-04T08:28:00.002-06:00

Today is Tuesday when my writers group gets together at the local library. Although I normally bring a chapter of my manuscript for the group to critique and line-edit, lately I've been fine with just listening to the contributions of the other members.

I think part of it has to do with my shift in concentration from getting the MS perfect to getting my query refined so I can get on with selling it to an agency or a pub house.

At first I dreaded the whole 'pitch' aspect of writing, but I'm starting to like it more and more.

Such is Life.

HELP STAMP OUT HUNGER! May 8, 2010

2010-05-03T20:06:00.001-06:00

It's that time of year again! Not just Mother's Day but also the annual food drive sponsored by the US Postal Service, the National Association of Letter Carriers, and Campbell Soup. If you remember, please search your pantry for a few canned items that you can contribute to this very worthy cause. They're hoping to "Bust a Billion" this year. http://www.helpstampouthunger.com/

The Query Shark

2010-05-02T08:03:00.004-06:00

For those who don't know what a query letter is, think of it as a job application for writers. It's a letter of introduction about a specific project in which you ask an agent or an editor to consider working with you for the purpose of publishing your writing. As I said in another post, with a job app, you can kinda shrug it off if you don't get the job. With a query rejection, it's like an announcement that your child is so ugly, it's going to be killed.

The query process has begun for The High Bridge.

Okay, okay, I've only sent out three so far. One rejection has already come back, which didn't create the immediate and visible reaction I expected, although the results have caused cracks through which a little lava has seeped (high blood pressure, argument with The Husband, over-intensity in other activities not writing related...)

It was only one rejection, I know. Even though I can claim a 33% rate of non-return, I shouldn't react too harshly for all that. The law of averages are inherently against me at that low volume, but still, I keep thinking I have to 'fix' it somehow.

Yes, I've gotten advice from many sources about writing a good query letter, but I'm one of those people who needs examples to support an explanation. If there are rules to be followed, I'm very much inclined to interpret them how it pleases me. Either through stupidity or stubbornness, my imagination will draw all the wrong conclusions.

So, I've been spending lots of time reading (and re-reading) a website called The Query Shark, by Janet Reid. Janet is a semi-mysterious figure, although her public persona is well known. Starting with Miss Snark, she's been giving advice (and high blood pressure -haha!) to querying writers in a sardonic yet amazingly helpful ways for at LEAST ten years (yes, since she was 19 - haha!) She's also a literary agent who knows her stuff, so if I glean anything for the total 'rip' of the submitted query letters, I should be ahead of the game.

Funny how writers say "write for yourself" but feel (for the most part) that someone has to read your creation in order to be fulfilled. It's a strange paradox.

Who'll gimme five bucks?

2010-05-01T21:54:00.003-06:00

Went to an estate auction today. Got a little caught up with the excitment and ended up buying a cooler I don't need and a crap load of assorted greeting cards that I didn't know were inside.

Got a nice matching garment bag and suitcase with a Jordache label on it. I'm not quite sure if I should use this travel set or sell it as antiques. I mean, seriously! Jordache? What's up with that?

Still, everything cost me a TOTAL of ten dollar, so I guess I'll just write it all off emotionally as the cost of entertainment. I had a pretty good time, all in all.

WAG #20 "Like a Virgin"

2010-04-30T08:40:00.009-06:00

It's good to talk 'big'. It builds up your spirit, increases your drive, strengthens your heart.

The unfortunate consequence is if you talk 'big' to yourself too convincingly, the tumble back to reality just hurts that much more.

When it comes to talking big, no one is supposed to be better at it than a new writer sending out her first query, an experience I just 'enjoyed' starting on Wednesday when I shot off a couple of emails for my contemporary romance The High Bridge.

It was an interesting experience, writing that letter. I've been playing with my hook and my mini synopsis for several weeks and thought I had it down to a pretty eye-catching couple of sentences. But then came the dreaded "Why Are You The Best, Most Qualified Person To Write This Book?" paragraph at the end.

Sigh...Well...

Sigh...

I put it down as best I could, although I suspect it came across sounding a little "You're not good enough to write this book, so I have to do it myself" kind of attitude. If you want a romance story that involves back-country travel of abandoned railway right-of-ways through bear/mountain lion country, I'm your girl! Do you think Jackie Collins is going to know that the old Willys jeep is really pronounced "WILL ISS"? No! Will Nora Roberts know much about falling off a dirt bike when lightning strikes a nearby tree? N--- well, maybe, with some research.

The point is I know a lot about what I write for a novel. I don't know a lot about making ME sound like the only person qualified to do so.

You only have to make love once to no longer be a virgin. I've already received word (the dreaded "Dear Author" letter) that I'm no longer a virgin to the agency rejection system. I just don't want to be a rejection slut.

Time to rewrite the query letter, methinks. Need to learn a new way to talk 'big'.

WAG #20: The First Time” Everything we’ve ever done had a ‘first time’. Think of an activity (either of your own or something you observe of someone else) and write about the first time of that experience, and perhaps even compare it to subsequent experiences. Maybe even pick a moment that might have looked mundane from the outside, but made a significant change to the person experiencing it. Not a lot of rules, as usual… just let your imagination flow! www.indiadrummond.com

WAG #19 Pick a Pocket

2010-04-27T20:36:00.006-06:00

WAG #19: Pick a Pocket” Let’s do some people-watching for this one! Pick someone out of a crowd and describe what (you imagine) is in their pockets (Unless you want to be brave and ask them!) Give us both meaning and physical details, and don’t forget to let yourself be surprised. (This week’s topic inspired by WAG founder India Drummond's son Bear.)

I hate waiting for freight trains.

There are a lot of grade crossings where I live in Colorado. The beef can't walk to market, after all, and the various ores from the mountains aren't transported by 20-mule teams. Trains are ubiquitous. And necessary.

The drivers in Colorado seem more patient than those I saw (and was) when I lived in Illinois. Maybe because the scenery is better or the sky bluer; I don't know why. In Colorado, people wait quietly for trains or traffic lights or other delays.

In Illinois it was an insult to a driver to be stopped for any reason besides a twenty car pile up, and I can recall once getting stopped by the Indiana Harbor Belt and sitting in the same spot for what seemed an eternity. I glared around at my fellow travelers, accusing them of plotting to be in my way and preventing me from making a U-turn.

As I glanced around, my eyes fell on a little old man, standing in front of the pharmacy I was halted by. He had a knowing little smile on his face as he rocked back and forth, from heels to toes - forward and back, forward and back. This caused his hips to swing to and fro, forward and back. His twinkling eyes found mine and his little smile broadened.

I'm certain I turned fifteen shades darker of crimson because of what I noticed. Very near the fly of his light-colored trousers was a hard bulge that tightened whenever his hips swung forward. He slipped his hand deep into his pocket and his smile grew even wider.

"Grampa!" came a childish yell, accompanied by little shoes tapping on the sidewalk.

The old man gave a glad cry and pulled a round lollipop from his pocket for a little girl.

See What Happens When You Slow Down?

2010-04-07T11:16:00.002-06:00

I just found out that a writing conference coming up in July isn't $125 per day; it's $125 for the whole THREE days! That changes things quite a bit! I wasn't going to go because I'd have to sell both kidneys to afford it, but since I need only sell ONE kidney, it might be do-able.

Speaking of writing conferences, I'm going to AWP this weekend. Poor old David is gonna have to take care of himself. Pizza and beer and the bachelor life for him. He'll probably spend the entire weekend watching war movies on TV.

Well THAT didn't go so well...

2010-04-06T17:46:00.002-06:00

Okay, so I was supposed to do a monthly "resolutions" list, but I didn't fare so well.

Hmmm. Go figger.

I do need to keep writing, however. Apart from the fact that I enjoy it immensely, it's just something I SHOULD do, even when I'm not in the mood. Or uninspired. Or completely positive that no one is reading.

Well... enough whining; get on with it.

Photos in the Fog and Hoarfrost

2010-01-29T11:51:00.002-07:00

Okay, I goofed. I didn't check my ISO and it was set for 800. duh...

DENVER ZOO Lioness Looks On

2010-01-16T22:47:00.003-07:00

DENVER ZOO No The Lion Does NOT Sleep Tonight

2010-01-16T22:11:00.002-07:00

DENVER ZOO The Cheetah With Attitude

2010-01-16T20:39:00.001-07:00

DENVER ZOO: Put a tiger in your tank!

2010-01-16T19:35:00.005-07:00

He only cooperated for a short while. It truly left me feeling like the paparazzi!

2010-01-16T19:08:00.002-07:00

This lady was hanging around our outbuilding last Spring waiting for the army cutworm moths to come by. I named her Lydia.

I found this photo while transferring zoo photos to my computer.

Typing Speed Test

2010-01-09T11:05:00.001-07:00

52 words

Speedtest

I can recall being ~60 words a minute, but I was younger then. :)

White Blankets, Green Blankets

2010-01-08T14:17:00.001-07:00

Brrr! It’s cold here in Northeastern Colorado. There’s snow on the ground, the land is locked in white. The skies are clear, however, which means that despite the negative Celsius reading on the thermometer, the bright sunshine will melt said snow.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the snow, especially when it’s still fluffy and delicate as it perches on a tree branch. Seeing tracks of bunnies and birds also reminds me that despite being out in the country, I’m not alone and isolated. There’s wildlife out there, even if it doesn’t linger in one spot much.

Still, I’m looking forward to the arrival of spring, when I can open the windows and hear the birdsong and feel the renewing breezes. Despite my favorite holiday (Halloween) occurring in autumn, I think spring is my favorite time of the year.

New Month's Resolutions

2010-01-08T13:48:00.002-07:00

Well, shame on me! I missed my 4^th of the Month deadline!

Who says that new resolutions have to be set in stone by the first day of the year? Not me. In fact, I think I’m going to go with a New Month’s Resolution. Once a month, I’ll make a list of five things that I wish to accomplish by the end of the month.

This month?

< Plan the week’s dinner menu every Monday morning, rather than 5pm every day (in a slight panic).

< Drink a quart of plain, unadulterated water each and every day.

< Send ten agent queries by the end of the month.

< Drink only two cups of coffee at day (no, c’mon! I’m not going to increase the cup size to compensate).

< Take the aluminum cans to the recycling center.

< Write a minimum three blog posts a week.

Okay, okay, you can count. That’s six. I figure the aluminum cans one is more of a chore than a resolution

Looks like I have two more posts to enter, so off I go. Cheers!

NaNoWriMo and "The High Bridge"

2009-12-04T00:19:00.005-07:00

Well, I’m back to the blog after a very hectic NaNoWriMo whirlwind project.

As I mentioned before, I’ve never written a novel in a month before. I’ve spent a month (many, actually) doing straight writing, but to have a set goal within a specific timeframe is an entirely new subject to me.

I’m happy to say that I was successful! On November 20^th, I hit the 50,000 wordcount required to “win” the National Novel Writing Month ‘contest’, and on November 25^th, I wrote my last line of the project bringing it to a count of 61,000+. There are drafts and then there are ROUGH drafts, and anything coming out of a NaNoWriMo wordrace is going to be very rough indeed. It should be. The point is to write, write, write and write some more, right? Well, since writing that last line, I’ve been doing a lot of editing and at the moment, the manuscript is up to ~ 68,000. Unless I come up with some genius idea, I don’t think I’ll get far beyond 70K.

And that’s fine.

In the past thirty-some-odd years, I've written a lot of things, from FanFict to Sci-Fi to Historic Romance, but this is the first time I've written anything that I feel might be publishable. Now is when writing gets scary. Now is when I have to learn how to sell myself. It's like a job interview for your dream job, only ten times as important. If you don't do well in a regular job interview, you can somewhat write it off as "you weren't exactly the right candidate for the job". If your manuscript is rejected, it's like being told that your baby is so ugly, they're willing to put it to death for you.

And here I thought I never wanted kids...

Photos to Marvel at

2009-11-04T20:02:00.004-07:00

My friends Jack and Gina took a trip earlier this year to the Florida Keys to do some kayaking, and I've been granted permission to post a few to share with you. I think the loggerhead turtle is the coolest one, but I really like the mangrove salt marsh snake quite a bit as well. Please enjoy!

The Desert

2009-10-28T23:28:00.002-06:00

Someone on the NaNo forums was asking what it is like to be in the desert, so I posted this reply. I hope it helped him/her to understand how special they are.

My husband and I have spent a lot of time in SW Utah, in Capitol Reef NP, Arches NP and Canyonlands NP, as well as the San Rafael Swell and Cathedral Valley. What has been said before is true - very good advice - but one thing I wish to stress; the desert is a beautiful, amazing, humbling place. It can be so very harsh, with the dryness and winds and extremes in temperature, but when you find a lifeform in the desert after spending a little time there, you realize that if this being has survived so much just to exist there. Not just exist but also thrive enough to spare energy to reproduce and bring more life to such desolation, even if it takes surviving five droughts and seven record-breaking winters to get up the reserves.

One of the most humbling visits for me was when we camped in Bentonite Hills, Cathedral Valley. Because of the almost cement-like characteristics of dried bentonite, there were no plants and no water where we'd set up for the night. It was perfectly still; no insects and no birds of any kind because they had nothing for which to be there. The only light (other than our headlamps) was from the stars and later a crescent moon . Things were so quiet I could hear my own blood running through my ears. I felt like I was on another planet where the vacuum attenuated all sound. I'd never experienced anything so foreign in my life.
The coolest part was, when we returned to "civilization", I felt like I had been reunited with long lost friends. There was a gush of gratitude for the birds chirping in the sky and wind rustling through leaves with commonplace familiarity. I was actually grateful for the buzz of insects. Nothing makes me appreciate my senses like the feeling of having them robbed from me. I came to love the Bentonite Hills because they reminded me of what I have; life.

NaNoWriMo Update

2009-10-28T19:58:00.004-06:00

Well...three little days till NaNo, probably the biggest project I've voluntarily tackled alone.

Granted, I've worked on big things before, don't get me wrong, but this is the first time that I've put myself under such pressure to do so much in such a short amount of time. 30 days to write 50,000 words? Am I nuts?

Sure, I am. But everyone knew that already, right?

I BROKE THE SPELL THAT HELD ME LONG

2009-10-27T09:51:00.003-06:00

As I was showering this morning, thinking of NaNo descriptive passages and ways to incorporate some humor into the soon-to-be WIP, I remembered a poem from high school. I had been so taken with it at the time, I had actually taken time to hand copy it from the AP English book, and anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I didn't spend much time with my school books.

The copy was lost long ago, but the Internet is a wonderful place, because there it was!

I BROKE THE SPELL THAT HELD ME LONG

by William Cullen Bryant

I broke the spell that held me long,

The dear, dear witchery of song.

I said, the poet’s idle lore

Shall waste my prime of years no more,

For Poetry, though heavenly born,

Consorts with poverty and scorn.

I broke the spell- nor deemed its power

Could fetter me another hour.

Ah, thoughtless! how could I forget

Its causes were around me yet?

For wheresoe’er I looked, the while,

Was Nature’s everlasting smile.

Still came and lingered on my sight

Of flowers and streams the bloom and light,

And glory of the stars and sun;

And these and poetry are one.

They, ere the world had held me long,

Recalled me to the love of song.

Oh, Sure! Synopsises Are Easy!

2009-10-23T11:28:00.002-06:00

Here is a guide stating rather clearly how easily novel synopsises (synopsi? synopses?) are composed and the best place to find both good and bad examples would be Wikipedia.

It's very convincing. Who wudda thunk?

NaNo '09 Character Sketch Stephen Montclair

2009-10-21T23:33:00.005-06:00

I'm trying to get a feel for who my 'people' are. The male hero is a bit of an enigma to me still.

Stephen was a rich boy.

With a small sigh, he reminded himself that it is his parents who are rich, and his school mates at the prep school in which he was enrolled -- St Qualford Preparatory Academy – automatically assigned this affliction on him. Yes, they were all from rich families, and by sending a boy to St. Qual’s, they intended to have him trained to keep it that way. Even the Nuevo Riche parents planned to mold their progeny into the harsh, claw-for-it-all, heartless little bastards they themselves had turned into. That’s how they got rich; the only way they did.

It was around the age of twelve before he realized it was an affliction; death threats against his father, armed vehicles for travel when he arrived home, isolation, secrecy, even straight out hiding, but when he was a young boy, he believed there was no other way to live. His bathtub was marble, his toy boats were radio controlled, his clothes – rarely the same items two weeks in a row – were immaculately tended, and his nanny treated him with a kind of reverence that was never spared on the rest of the staff. His playmates were generally the other rich parents’ children, and they all acted like the money was already theirs. And they behaved as though his parents’ wealth would soon be theirs, as well.

A familiar sight to his left roused him from thought, and with irritation he pressed hard on the brakes, skidding the Ferrari to a halt. Be damned if he didn’t drive right past his parents’ back gate! Glancing in the dark rearview mirror, he shifted into reverse and performed a three-point turn in the deserted street. At the correct driveway, he pulled in and punched his old code on the keypad. He wasn’t terribly surprised when it didn’t unlock the gate. His good ol’ paranoid parents!

“Mummy? Daddy? I’m hooome!” he breathed sardonically in his Upper Class Twit of the Year Award voice, borrowed from a Monty Python sketch. He picked up the handset and dialed the extension for the groundskeeper’s cottage.

“Yes?” came the brusque voice, completely without friendliness.

“Stew? It’s Stephen. I’m home for a visit.”

“STEVIE!” came the response so loud and exuberant that he had to hold the phone away. “Whacha doin’ back here? We thought ya were still in school! You didn’t get kicked out, didya? You old punk! You must have done somethin’ really bad if yer sneakin’ in the back way! What kind of trouble ya in?”

Stephen brought the phone closer, although completely prepared to jerk it away again if volume control were needed.

“Stew, would you open the gate? I’ve had a bit of a drive. I started out this morning in Chicago, and…”

“Sure, sure, Stevie. Hold on while I get my glasses.”

Despite his dour mood, Stephen smiled as the handset slammed on the cradle, and he gently placed his back on the hook. Stew Pavlon had been the groundskeeper for twenty-seven years, long before Stephen was even born, and in all that time had probably never brought his glasses with him to answer the phone, nor had he ever politely hung it up. It was part of his charm. Some predictable things were good.

It took nearly three minutes before the whirr of the gate controller prompted Stephen to put the Ferrari in first gear and roll hurriedly through before Stew intentionally reversed the gate short of being fully opened, all in the spirit of security. He waved towards the groundskeeper’s cottage, even though it wasn’t in view, and continued down the drive towards the mansion.

Before he even reached the house, he knew his parents were having one of their famous parties. Looking above the trees down into the valley, the evening mist had a faint glow it got when the house was lit up and that only happened when guests were around. Otherwise, the house was kept dark and discreet, which saved a great deal of money. His parents may have been rich, but his father could pinch a penny until the head side was flush with the tail side. However, parties were always his mother’s idea. When he cleared the woods, he saw Mummy was having quite the soiree. Between the welding arc gleam of every bulb in the house glowing and the mishmash of valet-parked cars, Stephen was certain all of Denver Society was in attendance. He found an open spot by the catering truck by the kitchen and heaved a sigh. Not good timing for this sort of thing.

"Still No Sign of Land" As The Monty Python Skit Goes.

2009-10-20T21:27:00.003-06:00

Well...still haven't stuck to my guns about contributing a piece of fiction to the blog on a daily basis in order to keep myself in order, although honestly, I have been working on the NaNo project. I'm taking a new approach to writing, wherein I will prepare an outline and generate index cards and write character sketches. With Destiny of Honor, The Trucker, and other things I've written, it was all very seat-of-the-pants, despite being full novels. I keep feeling like this one has to be more organized and professional. I just hope I don't burn myself out worrying about the details. I've never been very good about following the rules and being disciplined and all that.

Wish me luck. More tomorrow.

Didn't Make It!

2009-10-19T20:31:00.003-06:00

Well, I didn't get that second practice session in for NaNo, although it is started...somewhat.

I managed to dedicate time to writing some interesting facts about my female main character (known going forward as the FMC, with the male main character referred to as MMC) and her extensive background in debunking things occult. The MMC is still a bit of a mystery to me (now named Stephen, I think), but I'm getting a better feel for the historic era concerned. Maybe tomorrow I'll have the practice exercise completed.

Hope you have a wonderful evening. Since I was up until 2:30 struggling with all this, I will probably end up turning in early!

Cheers!

NaNoWriMo 2009 Practice

2009-10-18T22:08:00.006-06:00

"NaNoWriMo?" you ask. It's short for National Novel Writing Month. It's a writing website in which a participant challenges himself/herself to write 50,000 words of "The Great American Novel" between November 1st and November 30th. That's almost 1700 words a day! My blog entries generally run much less than 400, obviously not daily, so now I'm practicing not so much writing but more discipline to get myself to writing every day, even if it's mindless little character studies like this.

For more about the project, go to www.nanowrimo.org.

BTW, the only things true in this little description are the bit about my dad making me learn to type when I was ten, the love of horses, the ubiquitous dust here in the prairies (although our part is in Colorado) and wondering if having the TV on strictly for background noise is wasteful. I have settled for webstreaming radio from the Colorado Public Radio (KBOD) that plays commercial-free mainstream classical music, not the TV.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my first exercise with writing discipline. I hope to have a daily contribution to share with you showing my progress.

It was a strange feeling being in the house alone.

She didn’t mind being alone, per se. Despite being extroverted and quite friendly most of the time, Louisa often wished people would leave her alone. They were too much trouble to figure out. Making them comfortable, frankly, was a big pain in the ass, and Louisa sometimes found herself exhausted by the prospect of having to entertain those who made no effort to get along with others. That was a frequent problem when she worked at the outdoor outfitters retail store. She was expected to be “on” all the time; positive and helpful to anyone who approached her, and after working a full time job and driving through rushhour traffic to get to the store across town, answering inane questions like “Does this cost what the price on the tag says?” really made it difficult to appreciate her fellow human being sometimes.

Rousing herself from her memories, she scanned the computer monitor in front of her. A blank page in the word processor reflected back at her. Fill the page, fill the page, don’t think about the empty house. Don’t wonder if the furnace is too loud or if it would be too wasteful to turn the TV on to cover the eerie silence. Even the sound of her fingers pounding on the keyboard would be an improvement over the unaccustomed quiet.

Heaving a sigh, she rested her fingers upon the ergonomic keyboard, feeling lightly for the two guide nubs on the F and J keys. Spot on, found without thought. Second nature and all that. Now…

“The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog” she typed quickly. “Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.” Then she followed that with JJJJ FFFF KKKK DDDD LLLL SSSS :::: AAAA.

She rolled her eyes and sighed again. God, she hadn’t thought about that in years. Her father had been a strange man who died right after her eleventh birthday, and since he had been pretty sick those last couple of months, when exactly had he tried to get her to practice typing? She recalled that he absolutely harangued her to practice the way other parents tried to get their children to practice piano or violin, and Louisa (or “Louie” as her father called her) spent nearly an hour a day with the cheap manual typewriter typing “ JFJF KDKD LSLS :A:A JJFF KKDD LLSS ::AA” for pages and pages, along with other finger exercises on the QWERTY keyboard. She hated it, sitting at the dining table with a cheap, plastic portable Corona, alone and seemingly forgotten. She would have much rather been out playing with her friends in the bright afternoon sun or climbing the maple tree in front of her house. What kind of weirdo mentally chains his youngest daughter to a damned manual typewriter at the age of nine or ten?

Well,…at the time it seemed very cruel, but in retrospect, it seemed somewhat foresighted. In the modern era of home computers and electronic communication, being able to type 60 words a minute accurately was a skill envied by some peers and desired by many employers. And now that Louie was trying to be a professional writer, the skill still wasn’t honed enough to get the ideas from her head into the document as fast as they formed. It sometimes tripped her up having to wait for her fingers to get it black and white onto the page. And the years of training stopped her from letting slight mistakes go until she could go back to correct them.

Maybe that’s why being in the house alone felt so odd. The need to concentrate and tune out distractions wasn’t there. Nobody was rustling paperwork in the next cubicle as when she worked in her previous job as office assistant for a major financial institution in Chicago. Her husband wasn’t yelling at the TV about some call the referee had made during the football game. It was just…quiet.

Previously she’d thought that quiet is what she needed. When she and her husband had moved from the bustling Chicago, Illinois into the semi-rural community of Goddard, Kansas, a fantasy of spending countless hours transforming her dreams into the printed word seemed on the cusp of reality. Her husband’s new job as a long-haul trucker meant he wouldn’t be underfoot, making the normal demands of a spouse being in constant contact with another spouse. Not having a nine-to-five job or a second job to pay for the little extras in life freed her from the reason (or excuse) to not vegetate in front of the television, recovering from a stressful, unfulfilling career. All she’d need to do is get a couple chores done first thing in the morning and spend the rest of the day writing that best-selling novel or award-winning blog.

Except that it didn’t turn out that way. Out on the prairie, dust was a constant combatant and the battleground was on every level surface in the house. The pollution she hated in the city seemed a distant bad dream compared to the light tan film that settled on her kitchen counters every single day. She couldn’t leave the windows open because of it.

And the smell! That awful stench of the pig farm down the valley came wafting towards their housing development as the sun set and the cooler air displaced the warm. The country air isn’t all it’s cracked up to be when livestock is put in the mix.

Strike the thought, she told herself. She loved the country. Even as a little girl who wanted her own horse and no typewriting, she desired to live on a farm and raise chickens. There was nothing wrong with swine; they were ‘earthy’, and being in the country meant being in touch with Mother Earth, right?

Besides, complaining was just another excuse to procrastinate. The blank page of the word processor still glared from the screen, not magically filling with her imaginative prose. When she didn’t have the time to work on it, creative ideas seem to fight one another to be first in line. Now they shirked back like wall flowers at the high school homecoming dance. It just didn’t seem fair.

Write what you know, is how the advice runs, and what she knew at the moment was frustration, impatience, loneliness, and…dust. She knew too much peace and too much quiet. She knew the mocking blank screen that needed to be populated, even if it was more JJJJ FFFF KKKK DDDD LLLL SSSS :::: AAAA.

She smiled to herself and highlighted the text. The last bit looked rather like curse words, although they didn’t contain the characters from the top row of the keyboard. She even chuckled as she deleted them, although it meant that the document would be empty again.

Write what you know, she thought again. What did she know? She knew how to move an entire household five hundred miles without hiring a moving company. She knew what muscle pain meant. She knew how to set up a household for the love of her life, only to have him never be home to enjoy it with her because he was earning the money to pay for that house. She knew now to be careful what she wished for because she might get it.

Leaning forward, she once again placed her index fingers at J and F. With flying fingers, she explained to her readers “lonely”.

Top Ten Signs You're Too Old For Trick Or Treating

2009-10-11T22:50:00.006-06:00

(Got this from a 'viral' email pass-around a couple of years ago)

Top Ten Signs You Are Too Old to Trick or Treat

10. You get winded from knocking on the door.

9. You have to have another kid chew the candy for you.

8. You ask for high fiber candy only.

7. When someone drops a candy bar in your bag, you lose your balance and fall over.

6. People say, "Great Keith Richards mask!" and you're not wearing a mask.

5. When the door opens you yell, "Trick or..." and can't remember the rest.

4. By the end of the night, you have a bag full of restraining orders.

3. You have to carefully choose a costume that won't dislodge your hairpiece.

2. You're the only Power Ranger in the neighborhood with a walker.

1. You avoid going to houses where your ex-wives live.

Boots the Biscuit Thief

2009-10-08T13:10:00.006-06:00

My cat Boots is going on seventeen years old, and for sixteen of those, she’s been a dear pet, a real source of love and a near constant companionship.

Lately though, she’s been a real old lady. If she were human, she’d wear a purple hat and toss curses at policemen. Boots makes Maxine look like Miss Congeniality when something isn’t to her feline liking.

A prime example is cat food. I don’t believe I’ve seen a pickier eater since myself as a snot-nosed kid, putting individual macaroni noodles on the tines of my fork. For years, we were buying the same dry food and all three cats ate it just fine. Then one day I noticed the old cat was losing a little weight, and I realized she’d stopped eating. She's always been a skinny little thing, but I took her to the vet who couldn’t find anything wrong. Upon his suggestion, I changed her food, and she ate like a racehorse.

About a year ago, she developed bad teeth and a delicate digestion so we switched her to canned food exclusively which she seemed to like…unless it was chunks in gravy. The gravy would get licked up enthusiastically while the chunks that were too big for her to chew would be aggressively pushed off the plate onto the floor. Fortunately for me and my wallet, the other cats would eat it after she walked away, but apparently it bothered her that they got to eat it when she couldn’t, so she began carrying these morsels to me, crying.

Well, I’ve never been a mother, but I now completely understand what parents mean when they talk about the “I’m Hungry” cry or the “I’m Tired” cry or the “I’m Hurt” cry. The first time I heard this strange mewing from Boots with food in her mouth, it clearly said to me “I’m Troubled”. At first I wondered if she was in heat but she’s fixed so I knew that wasn’t it. Then I wondered if maybe she was depressed or going senile, but understanding flooded over me when she dropped the large wad of masticated ‘pseudo meat’ at my feet, looking up at me expectantly. She wanted me to cut it into smaller pieces!

Okay, I’ll admit it – I did. For the next three wads of formed “stuff” that she set before me, I broke it up with my fingers. Yes, my denied mothering instincts were resurrected by a little four-pound, pointy-eared, tiger striped cat. With the next mealtime, I learned to cut certain chunks into smaller pieces before putting the plate on the floor, and my little ‘dependent’ stopped coming down the hall, echoing the troubled, pitiable, seeking yowl, pleading for help from “Mom Cat”.

Until…about two months ago.

I’d made dinner for my husband and myself, a simple meal of leftover beef, Brussels’ sprouts and a sleeve of ready-to-bake biscuits. We ate everything but two biscuits which I left on the counter in case my husband wanted to finish them later. As per usual, David sat to watch a little TV, and I went back to our home office to check email and edit my latest work-in-progress.

Then came that sound. That pained yowl of distress, begging Mom Cat's rescue. It was worse than usual, sounding muffled but more urgent than before, and it confused me terribly because I hadn’t heard it for so long. Boots sounded completely overwhelmed with grief and pain. I jumped up from my chair and as I reached the door, I saw the cat coming down the hall towards me. Her face looked totally deformed! Her ears were perked forward and her eyes glowed with hope but the whole bottom of her face below her little pink nose was swollen and doughy and misshapen and…

A biscuit! The damned cat had stolen a biscuit from the counter and was carrying it to me!

“Mom Cat! Help!”

I laughed so hard, I peed my pants! At the same time, I knew I couldn’t let her have the damned thing because she would have continued to thieve food from the counter, so I used my “Mom Cat” voice and shouted “Hey!” in the tone she recognized as reprimand. Suddenly she stopped, and her eyes got big like it had suddenly occurred to her that I wasn’t going to be an accomplice to her crime. Wheeling like a dervish, she trotted quickly back towards the family room while I chased after her, trying to retrieve the biscuit. She slunk under the sofa where my husband was reclining, watching a movie.

“Get the cat!” I cried.

“What’s wrong?”

“She stole a biscuit and brought it to me to help chew it,” I explained. “We need to get it from her before she makes a mess with it.”

My husband stared at me blankly for a moment and then burst out laughing. I dropped to my knees and looked at the cat as she stared back at me from the middle of the sofa’s underside, gnawing furiously like a little kid who’s gotten into the hidden Halloween candy and is making the best of the time she has.

I’m a bad Mom Cat, I know, but I let her finish what she could, and when she came out 30 minutes or so later, I made my husband (who finally stopped laughing) help me move the sofa so I could toss the remainder and vacuum the crumbs.

Since that time, Boots has never once carried anything to me, looking for help. She has even gone back to pushing the food off the plate, as though gladly sharing with her ‘brother-felines’ rather than face the Wrath of Mom Cat.

"Random Acts of Folk Remedies" or "Mother of Invention?"

2009-10-05T09:59:00.007-06:00

Okay, this really should be on the website of my friend Mustang Rider, since her blog is all about living green, living simpler, living easier, but it's so small and random, I'll just toss it on here.

On occasion when I cook pasta sauce (large quantities frozen for future use), my house begins to smell quite a bit like Luigi's All Night Spaghetti Factory, and since my sauce usually cooks down over the course of a coupla hours, it rather permeates the house. My quick fix is to turn on the central air blower for a couple minutes and then spray odor-neutralizing into a couple of the intake vents. A few minutes later, the entire house has a vague scent of the fragrance without my having to walk around the house spritzing every corner. (My idea is useless, of course, if you have radiators. Sorry.)

Another "folk remedy" I discovered recently was another use for Swiffer dusters after they're used up; sticker burr removal! Here in eastern Colorado (and particularly on our ~3 acres), we have an annoying abundance of sand burrs, and now that it's fall, their spiney hooks have dried hard, making them very painful to remove by hand. My husband was doing yardwork yesterday and came into the house for help removing the burrs from his back (don't ask; I didn't). As it happened, a very used Swiffer handduster was nearby, so I took a quick swipe. IT WAS MAGIC! I got the seven or so off his back and then removed the two or three dozen from his pantleg (he'd done the other one outside by hand). I've never seen those things come off so quickly and easily.

If you come by sometime this week, you'll probably find me wandering around the property looking for other miracle cures with a Swiffer. Goatheads, here I come!!!

A New Venture?

2009-07-29T17:03:00.002-06:00

Last night was another meeting of the writing group I'm trying to start at the local library. Once again, I did not have anyone attend who wished to join my merry little group...BUT... it turns out that there is already a writing group in town, so I'll join that. We all learn from each other. :)

More Graphical Spewings

2009-07-29T16:54:00.005-06:00

I had yet another craving to create and opened my 'graphic' file to re-address a piece I started but never looked at again. It contained a rather odd zigzag and a couple of stars that were made using a Photoshop preset tool.

As you can see, the stars have been removed but the mountains remain. That's rather opposite of what the poets and the philosophers tell us, eh?

Colorsmith Graphical Worm

2009-07-08T22:43:00.004-06:00

The Colorsmith Graphical Worm is still going strong, but it needs more submissions. If you have an interest in messing around with Photoshop (or graphic software of your choice), please feel free to join in the fun!
http://colorsmith.net/worm/index.html
Anyone can submit. The only real requirement is to fit your artwork into 600 pixels wide by 450 pixels high by 72ppi. For the sake of aesthetic and flow, try to match the artwork to the previous work in the project, and the way to make certain you 'lock in' your spot is to sign up on the forum.

Cheers!

A Day of Very Mixed Emotions

2009-07-08T13:50:00.003-06:00

It's been a rather peculiar day today. I've been very excited that today is not only the birthday of my oldest surviving sister but also my youngest nephew. For some reason the coincidence of their birthdays has always tickled me. I think it's because my sister has frequently complained (in jest, I hope) that she's never had her birthday by herself; my oldest sister's birthday was July 4th (I say 'was' because the sibling is no longer with us). She says it made her feel 'robbed' of the specialness because it was always celebrated with something else. I find it funny that my nephew was born on her birthday, as though fate were rubbing it in. Who says Mother Nature doesn't have a sense of humor?

The other thing that has me in such a weird funk is news of two deaths. My friend in Illinois who is currently battling breast cancer has informed her Facebook friends (myself included) that her sister-in-law lost her battle with stage 4 liver cancer. More bad news: my very best girlfriend, currently on a fishing vacation in northern Minnesota, was informed that her beloved dog Roscoe died too and that she and her SigOther are curtailing their trip.

Now, I know the gravity of these two incidents aren't considered equal by many people, but they share so many things. Whether a pet or a human, life is tremendously valuable to these folks and the loss will be so keenly felt. Both of my friends have been having a very rough time of it lately, and to have things like this occur just seems so unfair. I know the one friend was already struggling with a sense of defeat (although she has nobly fought the disease in a way I doubt I could) and the other wants to save every animal she has ever seen in distress (human species included) so to have lost this pet and not be there...well...I can imagine her extreme pain and woe.

It was very strange, today, to put sympathy cards in the mail - two on one day. It reminds me that despite feeling left out or put upon or useless on occasion, there are people suffering troubles worse than mine or joys greater, and I wish over and over again that, despite the thousand miles that separate us, I wish I could be there sharing their lives, giving a hurrah or a hug as is needed. Words are cold and pass as platitudes. A hug is warm.

WAG #17 Someone I Once Knew

2009-06-30T22:57:00.002-06:00

My mother mailed a few pictures to me the other day. It showed a collection of faces as varied as the activities depicted.

The first was a blonde child doing a backflip. It was an intense photo; the face firm with concentration, the grass bright green, the feet were a blur, moving faster than the camera could capture.

Another photo showed a group of young teenagers dressed in theatrical costumes, obviously The Famous Four singing joyously as they “tramped” down the Yellow Brick Road, which consisted of yellow construction paper spray-glued onto muslin.

The last four images were from a graduation; a young woman receiving her diploma; my mom posing proudly as the graduate mugged behind the precious document thrust forward at arm’s length; the last two involved a mortarboard in the air, although the second of that series also involved, nay featured, a tree and a long stick.

With a smile, I flipped through the photos over and over, absorbing the events enjoyed by people I have been out of touch with a long time – well before we moved so far away. I set the small stack on the coffee table as my husband and I were watching TV, and I tried to get back into the program. My thoughts kept returning to the significance of the pictures.

I remembered having that kind of energy, that same drive, enthusiasm and hope. Where had it gone? When had I changed? With a heavy sigh, I sat back, pushing my shoulders into the sofa cushion, seeking comfort from its support.

My husband glanced between me and the table pensively and finally took up the stack of 4x6 prints. He flipped through them with less familiarity than I had.

“Wizard of Oz, huh?” he said with mild surprise. “I didn’t know you played the Cowardly Lion.”

_________________________________________________________
“WAG #17: The One That Got Away” From your own point of view (or the point of view of a stranger you observe) write a short scene about someone from the past who comes into the picture back suddenly. It can be an old boyfriend/girlfriend, a childhood friend, or anyone you imagine! haven’t seen for many years. It can be a sweet reunion, or a total disaster! It’s up to you.

The Worm (an update)

2009-06-10T21:41:00.005-06:00

Okay, it's up and at 'em!

http://www.colorsmith.net/worm/worm.html

My graphic artist friend has made his "worm" official. He's taking contributions. Just check out the rules/guidelines here.

Look for both Sue O'Shields and Sioux O'Shields, as I have two additions to the Colorsmith Graphic Worm.

No Native Americans were involved in the making of that artwork. ;-)

The Worm

2009-06-04T09:59:00.004-06:00

If you click on the images, they open into larger individual images. Hit back to return as they do not open in new windows.

Dressed For Success, WAG #13

2009-05-26T21:11:00.012-06:00

“WAG #13:Dress for Success” Thanks to Peter Spalton for the topic idea! For this week, find yourself a stranger (Yes, we’re all turning into a bunch of WAG stalkers!) Notice what the person is wearing, and then imagine the process they went through getting dressed. Peter suggests: Add lots of detail so we understand what sort of person they are and where they’re going after they’re ready.

When a guy lives in such a small town, he knows everyone. Everyone knows him. Everybody knows him, his brothers, his mother, father, grandparents on both sides... hell, they even knew who his dad was screwing before Dad married Mom.

They also know Melinda. Sweet, luscious Melinda with the to-die-for figure and the big brown eyes. When they see him walking hand-in-hand down the street with her, they'd know she is his girl.

He glanced around for his alarm clock and growled at the realization it was buried under his dirty tee shirts and four Good Times soda pop cups. Angrily brushing aside black bangs still wet from his shower, he shoved the crap off his nightstand and read the time. With a yelp, he dashed to his chest of drawers where his mom stacked his cleaned laundry. Up there it was less likely to get dirtied by his other 'stuff', she said. A quick rifle through the pile of black tee shirts located the one with missing sleeves which he tossed onto the bed while shoving dirty laundry around the floor with his bare foot to locate his jeans. They were his favorite black denims, with the rhinestones outlining an arrow over the zipper fly and with chrome buckles up the outside leg seams. The pants were starting to look a bit battered from repeated wearings; he was pleased. If he was lucky, Melinda would be wearing her super-tight striped knit top and her satin slacks that showed every curve, and maybe people would notice his arms toned from hours of drumming practice. Yeah, he and Melinda would look good together.

His phone rang in his school bag. With another growl of frustration, he whipped his head around the room to find where he'd dropped his books, but the phone stopped ringing before he got to it. The screen said "Mellie", and he looked towards the roof in frustration. Damn, that girl's impatient!

He whipped his hair violently to shake off the extra water before pulling the tee shirt over his head. Two strides brought him to the mirror to make certain all the lettering was still there. Backwards he read "UNITED ROCKERS". The skull was just as dark front or back. Quickly he put on some wool socks and his dad's old Desert Storm Army boots, tying the laces tightly before covering it all with the over-long pant cuffs. Rummaging through the top dresser drawer, he found his three-inch wide leather wrist band, the one earring with a cross and a skull, and a simple silver nose ring. He donned these and checked the mirror one last time. He stared for nearly a minute and suddenly tore the collar of his tee shirt, rending it straight down three inches.

Good.

Okay.

Now to call the Sweet Mellie back. Gaughth was ready to go out.

********************************************************************

This was an exercise of the Writing Adventure Group. The criteria for the exercise is listed above. The info about the group and how to participate is below.

Writing Adventure Group

This is an open, online writers’ group. Anyone may participate. It’s helpful if you have a blog, but if you don’t have one, you can always get a free blog from wordpress.com.

Our purpose is to build a community of writers who help and support each other, and to hone our observational and writing skills by interacting with each other and the world around us.

Here’s how it works:

Adventures should take you 5-10 minutes to complete! We’re going for short and easy. This should not be like having a part time job. You may post your results as a few lines, or a few paragraphs. This does not have to be polished, but is an exercise only! See previous WAG posts here.
You will typically have one week to do the assignment and post the results on your blog. Deadline given at the bottom of the instruction post.
After you post your results, email THE LINK TO YOUR POST (not just your blog) to NixyValentine AT gmail DOT com. This way I can link back to you in the next post! Please include the word WAG in your subject heading. Please include the title of the post (if any) and your name as you want it to appear on the listing. If you do not do this, I will use the name as it appears on your email.
To get more people involved, please use Twitter, FB status, myspace, your blog, etc to tell your writer friends about the group and talk about your own writing adventure!

Rules

Well, there really aren’t any. This is an experience, not a classroom. There is no wrong way to do this!

To get the most out of this, I would suggest visiting the other participants’ blogs and linking to them from yours to build the writing community.

If you have an idea for an adventure or have questions or comments about the group, write to nixyvalentine AT gmail DOT com.

www.nixyvalentine.com

Happy Memorial Day

2009-05-22T21:19:00.004-06:00

Memorial Day... Originally a celebration to bring to mind the veterans of the Civil War as their numbers grew fewer and fewer. It was originally known as Remembrance Day, and people used to sit around with Grandma and Grandpa listening to stories about those hard times, North or South, when men slept 10-12 to a tent, nested like spoons, trying to survive the winter cold and wondering which comrade would not be there for the bread breaking at dinner. At a time when life expectancy was in the low sixties, veterans in their seventies would send each other postcards depicting wreaths of red white and blue or of cherub-cheeked children handing old soldiers bright red poppies of remembrance, wishing each other well and expressing gratitude that they knew one another. They all thought of life and death and how important it was to recognize the power of both.

Now, Memorial Day is a way to make a weekend three days long, to gather with friends to drink beer and grill out in the backyard. Stores have sales commemorating their burgeoning stock of furniture. People rummage around the back of the closet, looking for that dusty flag to replace the cheap "Welcome Spring!" banner currently posted in the flag holder. Come Tuesday, the dusty flag gets tossed back in the corner of a dark closet and a brand new, cheap "Welcome Summer!" banner goes up.

I'd like to 'go retro' this weekend. No, I'm not talking postcards or giving money to some guy on the corner in order to get a cheap fabric poppy. I'd like to remember our Veterans now in their seventies. Since our interval between wars seems shorter nowadays, please remember those in their fifties and sixties as well. Just because the weapons are easier to manage and maybe men weren't forced to sleep a dozen to a tent to keep from freezing to death, it doesn't mean that the personal loss of a loved one or a comrade or even an acquaintance is that much easier to bear. Or the sacrifice of those at home, wondering if that loved one was returning - I want to remember their selflessness too. I feel it's time to once more recognize the awesome power of both life and death, and remember those who had to face the loss of it without choice or regret, simply because they were proud to do their duty.

Thank you, Veterans. Your sacrifices are never trivial, even if our thoughts aren't always noble.

Cave Wedding Photo - Official ;-)

2009-05-22T13:14:00.003-06:00

Still haven't found my wedding album, but as I was going through a box, I found a photo album with this photo in it. It's a picture of my husband and me posing in front of our favorite formation in Illinois Caverns, so I feel like this is our 'official' wedding photo, even though it's not exactly where we wanted to have the ceremony.

Hope this is viewable. I hate scanning prints.

Photo by Ralph Earlandson.

Cave Wedding closeup

2009-05-20T09:24:00.002-06:00

I kinda messed up the posting of the photo. Here's a closer, cleaner crop of that same photo. Hope it makes things a little clearer.
FYI: my husband and I wore our Sunday Best caving gear, including coveralls, helmets and lights. Normally we'd also have caving packs, kneepads, and gloves, but we broke our own rules regarding safe caving regalia.

Cave Wedding Photo, As Promised!

2009-05-19T14:36:00.006-06:00

I still can't find the photo album containing the pictures of our wedding, but while I was looking for the backpacking hammock, I stumbled upon the photo printed in the local newspaper. It was part of an article set right above the photos from the watermelon seed spitting contest (I think a boy scout won).

The cave was Illinois Caverns. The newspaper was the Waterloo Republic-Times. The year was 1990.

For the most part, I love The Onion.

2009-05-18T13:26:00.003-06:00

I also respect their humor, although they have begun to 'pick' on Obama. To be expected, of course, because that's their job!

They also post some hilarious spoof newscasts...

http://www.theonion.com/content/video/trekkies_bash_new_star_trek_film?utm_source=videoembed

I'm So Inspired By HGTV

2009-05-14T15:29:00.002-06:00

My husband and I were watching "House Hunters" on HGTV the other night. If you not familiar with the show, it's a reality show that takes you along as one or two house hunters tour possible homes to buy. I'm not entirely certain why David watches (although I suspect it's mostly to humor me), but I like watching it primarily because I like seeing layouts, furnishings and design of homes across the country.

There was one house with some pretty atrocious decor but the bedroom was awful because it had shag carpeting, chrome furniture and fixtures, and worst of all, gold lame fabric as window treatments.

Without thinking, I said to David "Elvis has decorated the building!"

Okay, not hilarious, but I certainly felt inspired to humor by the vision of this room!

Lewis and Clark

2009-05-14T10:14:00.007-06:00

I received my daily email from The History Channel with the "This Day In History" information and was delighted to see acknowledgment of the great voyage of The Corps of Discovery.

http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history.do?bcpid=1184539009&bclid=1213915745&bctid=1119234422

However, upon reading the text accompanying the video, I was disappointed to realize it was so incomplete and actually misleading. One example: "On May 14, the "Corps of Discovery"--featuring approximately 45 men (although only an approximate 33 men would make the full journey)--left St. Louis for the American interior." They never explain that 33 men made the journey (not 45) because at the Mandan Village in North Dakota, there were men sent back to take one of the big boats (along with some of the found specimens and new maps) back to Saint Louis in order to start the process of populating the newly acquired territory. Also, that beginning leg of the journey was a bit of a 'shakedown' run, intended to test the men to find out who would make the grade. The men sent back to St Louis either didn't want to or couldn't handle the trip. The History.com site could leave you open to assume these guys died. The truth of the matter is that only one of the expedition members died, Sergeant Charles Floyd, and it is suspected that it was from a ruptured appendix, something he would not have survived even if he had been a guest of the home of Dr Benjamin Rush, a leading physician at the time.

Can you tell I'm a big fan of Lewis and Clark?

I Love The Library

2009-05-13T16:53:00.002-06:00

The local county library system is opening a new facility in the town that's a few miles south of us. Now, I liked the old facility just fine, but it sounded like they were outgrowing things pretty quickly, and like an indulging grandparent with a favorite grandchild, I can't deny pleading demands.

I just received an email from the library telling me that the new 'digs' will be opening on May 30th. Cool beans, in and of itself, but the email went on to say "will include the official ribbon-cutting, square dancing, a Western-style BBQ supper and ice cream social, trick-rope lessons for kids, storytelling, performances and more." The performances include "an acoustic jam session. Musicians from all around are invited to bring their fiddles, guitars and banjos to join in and play for fun."

Now does that sound like a great way to launch a library or what? I may even go and take pictures.

Strange Pearls of Wisdom and Other Observations

2009-05-11T13:02:00.004-06:00

...
You can't have everything. Where would you put it?

It was recently discovered that research causes cancer in rats.

A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.

Crime wouldn't pay if the government ran it.

Is there life before coffee?

It is as bad as you think and they are out to get you.

Thank God for the IRS. Without them, I'd be stinking RICH!
...

I Love Bouncing!

2009-05-10T13:07:00.013-06:00

No, trampolines are not involved...

While I was looking around the web, trying to confirm my memories of visiting The Golden Spike Historic Site, I came upon an interesting and well-run website that would be of great interest to rail/train buffs. Or 19th century history buffs. Or Old West buffs. Or Utah history buffs. Oh, all sorts of people would like this site!

The Central Pacific Railroad Photographic History Museum has a slew of information about not just the Wedding of the Rails (as the Transcontinental Railroad joining ceremony is often called) but lots of resources about train and US commerce history. I was especially impressed with the links offered to school kids who may be doing reports about the subject. Check it out!

http://CPRR.org

This Day in History-Transcontinental Railroad

2009-05-10T10:10:00.004-06:00

Short explanation of the Transcontinental Railroad courtesy of History.com

http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history.do?action=VideoArticle&id=4989

Been There, Done That, Got The Soot

2009-05-10T09:23:00.011-06:00

On this day in history in 1869, the Golden Spike was driven, completing the Transcontinental Railroad.

Okay, so in reality it was four ceremonial spikes and only the last one was gold. Well, really it wasn't pure gold; if you hit a small rod of gold with a sledgehammer, it would become the small pancake of gold in very short order.

How do I know this stuff? Because of my great education in the Chicago Public School system, of course! Didn't everyone get taught this stuff? Why would I need to travel to the middle of a God-forsaken desert in Utah to find out something that my grammar school teachers had already drummed into my head?

Because my teachers hadn't given me the whole story, that's why! Did you know that the president of the Union Pacific Railroad was so reviled, his trip to the ceremony site at Promontory Point was sabotaged by his own employees! And he (along with many of other celebrants) was drunk during the driving of the spike. On top of that, he missed!

David and I really enjoyed our visit to the National Historic Site. Apart from the titillating little scandals that make life interesting, it was simply a wonderfully alive park in the middle of complete desolation, with great displays (including reproduction, live operating steam engines), and very caring and knowledgeable park staff and volunteers. We can't wait to go back!

Okay, I Must Be Insane...

2009-05-08T23:55:00.004-06:00

Yes, I'm pretty sure that's what's going on...

I started another blog. It's called "How inTents" and it's an ideas exchange site for tent camping enthusiasts.

Yes, I was insane enough to use a very bad pun for the name, but I couldn't help it! I was certain "Tents R Us" was taken.

So, if you have a minute, go over and check it out. At the moment, it's just starting so you won't find much except for a pretty nice picture of our tent in Canyonlands NP, Utah.

http://howintents.blogspot.com

Yep, yep, yep... I'm insane.

Oh boy, I'm going to hell, now!

2009-05-07T22:25:00.004-06:00

While in Utah, we stopped for a picnic lunch in the town of Lyman. We pulled into the parking space and made our tortilla/honeymustard/lunchmeat sandwiches on the tailgate of the truck. As we were tossing away our trash, I spotted this sign and remembered that we were in Mormon country. After shooting this photo, we got back into the truck, closed the door, and I promptly spilled a small remnant of my soda on the floor.

Glad the windows were rolled up because I thoughtlessly dropped the "F" bomb...

Well, I'll be dog gone...

2009-05-07T21:55:00.004-06:00

I was not aware that you could post photos directly to your articles. This changes everything!

Another Limerick

2009-05-06T18:43:00.002-06:00

There once was a woman named Sue
Who wanted to be a size two
Intentions are good
But she did not what she should
And now she is the size OF two.

The Professional

2009-05-05T18:08:00.005-06:00

“WAG #10: The Professional” As we go through our days, we’re surrounded by people doing everyday jobs: the guy that reads the gas meter, cashiers, bank tellers, security guards, doctors, circus clowns… This week, your assignment is to observe someone doing a job (their profession should be one you don’t know that much about). Describe him/her and also what they’re doing, why they’re doing it (as best you can tell), and how. Feel free to use your imagination, but don’t forget the concrete observation! Special thanks to Lulu for this week’s topic idea!

The Professional

Another box of mail. It was heavy, of course. Paper is an amazingly dense material, and when concentrated into 18 gallon plastic tubs with torn handles, it gets a bit difficult to heft those tubs into the small delivery truck, but she did it without complaint. After all, the mail must get through!

Gently, she rubbed her hands together to ease the stinging scratches on her palms. Of course, the handles were torn; it was quasi-Government equipment! She’d been around long enough to remember the old canvas bags, to recall how damaged the mail could get when those bags weren’t handled right, and they usually weren't! She was also senior enough to remember having to walk the route pushing that silly cart around. No, she didn’t want the old days back. She preferred things exactly as they had become.

Especially that day! Okay, so the next day was Mother’s Day and maybe her son or her daughters would break away from celebrating the holiday with their own children, but even if they didn’t, she would be perfectly satisfied with herself for being a mom.

With a small shove of the overfilled baskets already there, she made a little extra room for a few empty baskets. Last year, her route had done her proud, and although she’d put their generous contributions in her buckets emptied of their delivered mail, she still had loose boxes and cans in her truck. This year she wanted to be prepared.

A satisfied sigh escaped her as she pulled the cord that lowered her rear door. Carrying mail was a job, and she was still glad she had one. Participating in the National Association of Letter Carriers’ Stamp Out Hunger National Food Drive made that job just a little bit more special. Okay, so maybe it took her nearly twice as long to service her route, but she couldn’t think of a better way to spend that afternoon than to help relieve the angst of a mother who had perhaps lost her job and could no longer feed her children. It just made Mother’s Day that much more wonderful.

This Saturday May 9th is the annual food drive sponsored by the US Postal Service, the National Association of Letter Carriers, and Campbell Soup. If you remember, please search your pantry for a few canned items that you can contribute to this very worthy cause.

The Twelfth Rose for Mother

2009-05-05T14:02:00.006-06:00

This coming Saturday the United States Postal Service and the National Association of Letter Carriers (NALC) are hosting their annual food drive. I've always been impressed with how clever and effective this effort has been year after year. As giving and generous as I try to be, my good intentions are often stymied by how convenient (or rather INconvenient) something may be to me. With this food drive, all you need to do is set your item(s) out by your mailbox and the Letter Carriers do the rest.

And how poignant this is taking place right before Mother's Day! How painful can it be for a mother to see her child go hungry for want of food? Maybe this year you can give your mom one less rose and spend that saved three dollars on a couple of cans of soup or healthful vegetables. When/if Mom points out that the florist miscounted, you can explained that you gave that twelfth "rose" to a mother whose child needed a nutritious meal. I can guarantee your mom won't hold it against you!

Bless you all!

For more information about the USPS/NALC drive, please see:
http://www.usps.com/communications/newsroom/2009/pr09_046.htm

Interesting Example of Governmental Idiocracy

2009-05-04T23:49:00.011-06:00

I don't know if you've heard of an ancient piece of rock art in Utah called The Harvest Scene in Nine Mile Canyon, but if you have, you've probably heard that there's been some difficulty lately in preserving this panel particularly but the whole area generally. The problem specifically is that the 800 year old artwork is being covered with dust stirred up from the commercial oil/gas trucks driving through the area.

The local county's solution to the concern about the dust? Yes, you guessed. They sent a crew out to wash the panel. With soap and water, you guess? No. Try guessing "a pressure washer".

I wonder if they'd have been allowed to wash The Last Supper with a pressure washer because it was starting to look a little soiled? Heck, it's a newer piece of art by at least 300 years; it can stand it.

New Photo!

2009-05-04T21:55:00.005-06:00

No, the title is not a typo. Claret Cup cactus are starting to bloom throughout Utah, and not only do they produce the loveliest flowers but also some of the most ferocious needles! I took a couple of scratches when I set my lens cap next to the plant for personal "scale cues" snapshots. That's the price extracted for the reward, I guess.

There truly is beauty in the beast!