Separating the Wheat from the Chaff and the Boy from the Poop

It’s a lovely Saturday here on the mountain. Cold with no wind and a crisp layer of snow on the ground.  I suppose it is laughable that we call it a mountain especially to my friends on the west coast but it is ours and we like it.

Today we have done some usual chores, son and G1 are out buying a toy he has saved up for, G2 is sitting quietly and DIL is catching up on some paperwork.  The plan is to go for a family swim later today, something both G1 and G2 love.

Me?  I am rewriting Chapter 2 trying to get into the head of one of my characters.  I have done 2 rewrites on this particular chapter and am not been happy with either.  There is something I am missing but am not quite sure what it is but am confident I will recognize it when I see it.

I have opened my apartment today to the critters of the household who usually reside with the rest of the family.  Jewels, the deaf white is sleeping peacefully on the back of my sofa.  Scout who has been renamed Henry is getting cozy trying out different spots which has included my lap and chest as I try typing.  Bree our yellow is happy anywhere but especially under my desk when I work.

Now Jack our third white who I have previously reported as being foul mooded since the arrival of Henry stalked around here a bit taking the odd swipe at Henry and then left to be near DIL.  Funniest thing is that during any given work day the animals are scattered but when DIL arrives home all, and I do mean all, congregate in the kitchen en masse and then where ever she goes.  DIL is a Dr. Doolittle which suits her profession as Vet Tech.  If you need a pet whisperer of any sort she would be your choice.

Now in addressing the Chaff and the Poop.  It seems G2 who at three is learning to take dominion over parts of his life as he should do, had also decided not to part with the products of certain body functions, which is not unusual in this age group.  This was never a particular problem with G1 who is now eight, although I do recall that at that age he had decided that if the back yard was suitable for the then canine in residence, Scooby, it was good enough for him.  It was an amusing and temporary problem easily solved once we got G1 to identify with the humans in the house rather than the animals.

There doesn’t seem to be an easy solution for the problem at hand but I hope the wee guy gets it straight soon… for his own comfort.

Any suggestions out there from you  experts would be greatly appreciated!

And now a pic of our dear departed Scooby taken in 09 through the back window of the playhouse.

Books of the iPad

Charles Dickens
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Books of the iPad
 
When I was a child I wanted to be a writer. Actually I knew I was going to be a writer. I remember the exact instant this information came to me, what the day was like, the actual smell of summer, my foot as it moved from the curb to the road. Strange isn’t it how there are some moments of such clarity that they are almost photographic, that for a millisecond you actually stand outside yourself and watch?  It was not a decision as much as a done deal and I remember wondering exactly what I would write. Why murder mystery of course, published and all best sellers.
 
I have spent the fives decades between then and now making half baked attempts at writing and full baked excuses why I could not do it. And I must admit it has taken considerable effort to resist the urge to take pen in hand. Almost as much effort as it would be to actually give in and write something. No, that statement is wrong. I have tried writing and it is hard work, an investment, a commitment, and a lot of pressure on the brain cells.
 
Oh, I’d make a good start, and then the next day my mind would just flit after some other butterfly of a thought. And as of a few months ago, this year, 2011, I ran out of excuses, and had face the real reason I don’t write – fear, of so many things.
 
The purpose of explaining the above is not to lament my failure, but to recognize what it takes to write and write well. My experience makes me very appreciative of those who are published. When I read I can see the author putting down each word. I imagine the blank page and the first letters appearing whether by pen or keyboard. I appreciate. I savor.
 
Now we come to the Books of the iPad.
 
I love the convenience, the thousands of choices, the categories, and the authors, all there for my choosing.
 
What I find amazing and at the same time sad are the free books. It’s good for me but feels a little like a slap in the face to some great writers.
From the free list..just a few..
 
Tolstoy, Roosevelt, Lincoln, Einstein, Alcott, Austen, Bronte, Dickens, Conan Doyle, Emerson, Fitzgerald,….and on and on and on.
 
I picture the making of each word, phrase, sentence, and paragraph. The work, the creativity, the ALL of the whole thing.
 
So, I feel I just want to acknowledge them, somehow, to say thank you.
You, my heroes of the past may be free, but you are in no way devalued!
Thank you iBooks!

 

Things My Mother Said…Long Ago

Things My Mother Said…long ago

My Mom died in 1983.  We weren’t very close for a lot of reasons I guess,but since she has gone I have come to realize what a remarkable person she was.
And every day I tell her.  Things come back.  Things I did not see or understand back then.  There is lot to say on that but today is all about actual words from her.

She said:

In the morning we close the blinds on this side of the house and in the afternoon on this side.  No such thing as air conditioning then.  1954

Some day people won’t need money.  People will just use a card.  For the life of me I could not figure this one out.  It was long before the concept of debit. 1958

Someday a woman won’t need a man to have a baby. 1957.  Since I did not know the facts of life I wasn’t sure what this meant except I knew there were Mommies and Daddies and they had children.  I could not conceive why a Mommy would have children without a Daddy.

Life is hard. You have to work.  All of us learned a great work ethic from our folks. I started working at fourteen, through high school and nursing.  It is who I am.

Don’t look at me in that tone of voice young lady!  I could never figure out how she knew what I was thinking.  So much for the poker face.

Life isn’t fair.  Get over it. I didn’t know if I believed this one for a long time.

This woman worked in a factory most of her life raising five of us.  My Dad was super and I idolized him.  But it wasn’t until I grew up that I realized what she gave, what she sacrificed to raise us and how hard it must have been.

She was Super Woman.

RIP Esther Byers Jenkins Gingerich.  For you have earned your rest and are still adored by all of us here.

Secret..Manifesting…and me…

Secrets and Manifesting and ….

About fourteen months ago, just before Christmas I was feeling a little lost, or down, or blah or whatever the choice word descriptions are these days.  My job of the previous few years had been challenging, but one I enjoyed until a bright – or maybe not so bright new manager convinced our company owner that he would drive us to inspiration in Recruitment by convincing her to slash all our salaries by thirty percent.  Now that had a not so surprising reaction from all affected who decided instead that we would do thirty percent less work.  Well almost all of us as one little bunny took it to heart and worked relentlessly to succeed.

Anyway having lived to the extent of my income this hit me where it hurts..namely the wallet.  And that definitely is NOT fun.  I was checking out some sales for Christmas presents, and being one woman who seems to have been born without a true shopping gene I usually drifted to a book store and latte.

The signs of my malaise were…well malaise, hopelessness about the future in general and a general internal pout that I hoped was not evident to others. For the first time in years I was also experiencing huge flare ups, or exacerbations of my old companion Fibromyalgia. So pain had settled in for a long stay.Oh and to meet my lifestyle I began to live more on credit cards and line of credit.  Perhaps a little more recklessly than necessary, but certainly in keeping with my personality.

One day in a bookstore of course I came upon The 
Secret by Byrne.  Having heard some hype and general discussion on the subject I decided to purchase mostly out of curiosity. 

So I settled down one Saturday morning curled up on the sofa to read. What can I say.  I was immediately glued to every word, every page. I read through all of that day and far into the night – not unusual for me when something catches my attention.  When exhaustion forced surrender to the land of nod I closed my eyes for a few short hours. 
The moment my eyes opened in the morning I was immersed immediately back in the book.

After thirty six hour of this I came out a different person,  My attitude changed and I greeted each day with confident, joy and anticipation.  Outlook changed, days were brighter,  I was filled with passion.  Wow and my life changed!

That was the start and it has been a journey of awareness. And that is what this series of blogs will be about.Cause there is a whole lot more to follow.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 314 other followers

Archives

blogsurfer.us

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 314 other followers

%d bloggers like this: