Blog Archives

Mindless Monday

 

     I think I’ve lost my mind.  Sometime while I was getting the dinner dishes done, cleaning Gavin’s ears, thinking about my dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon, and trying to figure out what to post tonight, my mind wandered off by itself and hasn’t returned.  I’m betting it’s going to be one of THOSE days when I wake up.

     We had sun so I worked in the yard again.  The ground is so wet that it made weed pulling easy.  We had such a pounding rain last night that I had to tie up some of my flowers and trim others back.  My Cranesbill was completely flattened and looked as though someone had placed an anvil on it.  I had to trim that way back.  I was glad I’d taken the time to trim back my huge baby breath plant a week ago or it would’ve been flattened too.

     If it rains tomorrow, I think I’ll curl up with a good book after I get home from the dentist and relax.

Building an Ark in the basement ala Gibbs

 

     Lately we’ve had so much rain that I’ve been thinking it’d be a good idea to build a mini Ark in the basement.  I wonder if I could get some tips from NCIS’s Gibbs?

     “Hey Gibbs, I think it’s time to build an Ark.”

    Gibbs throws me that baleful look he’s so good at giving.  “”That’s 300 cubits by 50 cubits.  Your basement won’t hold it.  And for heaven’s sake don’t ask me what the hell a cubit is.”

     “Okay, so I didn’t mean a full sized Ark I meant a mini-Ark.  It only needs to hold Dear Hubby, me, and the dogs.”

     Gibbs whacks the back of my head.  “Next time say what you mean.”

     I rub my head and glare back at him.  “So where do I buy gopher wood?”

     “You don’t.”

     “Will you at least help me with the plans?”

     “I have other plans.  I’ve a murder to solve.  Make your own.”

     “But, I’m clueless.”

     “So am I, but I’ll solve the crime.  Will you build your Ark?”

     “Hold on, I’m getting a clue.”

Commando trained weeds take over the gardens

 

     We actually had sunshine today.  What a lovely change from the last several dreary, rainy days.  The pups were ecstatic about being able to go for a walk, so was I for that matter.  We don’t walk a long distance but we do it at a brisk pace.  Both the dogs and I are panting when we finish.

     After the walks, I was in the gardens weeding for hours again.  Geez, I can’t get ahead of them no matter how hard I try.  They must be commando trained.  I get one area weeded and those darned weeds sneak over to another one and laugh at me.  They can’t grow that tall in such a short time, can they?

     My leather gardening gloves have holes in the finger tips I guess it’s time to buy some new ones.  I can’t use those cotton ones because we have some prickery weeds that can bite through them.

     After a day of weeding, I can tell I’m getting older.  My knees, hands, and back ache.  At least that’s the only time I feel my age.

     I added some pictures to my pond and garden page today.  I took them the other day in between rain storms.  I hope you enjoy them.

Writing with your senses

 

     I’ve been re-reading my Tony Hillerman books for about the hundredth time.  That man sure could paint scenery and put you into it with his words.  As writers, we sometimes forget to use all the five senses when we’re writing.  Sure, we can write scene after scene and use one or two of the senses, but we do forget there are five we can utilize.

     In one paragraph, Hillerman could make you see, hear, smell, touch, and even taste the surroundings he created.  I envy his skill and strive to sharpen mine. 

     I keep a paper hanging by my monitor and written on it are these questions, what does the character see?  Hear?  Smell?  Feel?  Taste?  It’s a constant reminder to me to utilize the senses to draw my readers deeper into the story.

     I find that all my favorite authors manage to draw me in by use of the senses.  Whether I’m reading mysteries, fantasies, or suspense novels it’s the use of the common, the simple things one forgets to use, that draws me in the fastest.

     What draws you deeper into a story?

The great robin rescue

 

     First, let me get this straight.  I don’t like heights.  I don’t like to climb ladders, cliffs, or tall fire towers.  I occasionally will still climb trees but I feel more secure in them than I do on a ladder.

     Today when I took Patty out I heard a fluttering in the top of the magnolia tree.  I didn’t think anything of it.  Then I took Gavin out and heard it again.  This time I looked up.  There, high in the tree was a robin dangling on a string from a small branch.  I’m a real softy when it comes to creatures in trouble but for the life of me, I couldn’t quite figure out how I was going to save this bird.  He was awful high up in the tree.

     “Hmm, ladder?  Oh, crap I hate ladders and Dear Hubby is asleep so I can’t ask him to stand there and hold it steady for me.”

     The poor bird flapped frantically. 

     “Okay, I’ll get the ladder.”  I dragged the step ladder off the porch and climbed up to the top.  Knees shaking, hands sweating.  “No way I can reach you.  Now what?  Broom?”  Climbed down the ladder.  Climbed back up the ladder.  Tried the broom—not even close.  “Well, crap.  Maybe the long pole branch cutter.”  Long, poled, very, heavy branch cutter that could easily knock me off kilter.  Don’t forget I’m also a klutz.  There I am with the long pole balanced against a tree branch so I can climb the dreaded ladder.  The robin is still dangling and watching me with trepidation.  I slowly make my way up the ladder, reach for the cutter, and haul it up.  Next comes the hard part.  (As if all of this wasn’t difficult enough.)  I now have to extend this 8 foot long, very heavy pole with a cutter on the end up above my head and try not to hit the now panicking, wildly wing flapping robin.

     My plan was to cut the small branch as near to his foot as I could.  (If I didn’t over balance and fall off the ladder.)  I eased the cutter closer to the crazed bird.  I hooked it onto the branch and suddenly the bird was flapping downward.  I hadn’t cut the branch but somehow managed to clip the string.  I eased the cutter down to the ground, rested it against a low branch, and climbed off the ladder.  I was glad to be on solid ground, though from the way it looked not nearly as glad as the robin.  Once he caught his breath, he shot out of the yard like a red and brown arrow.

They may act dumb but these dogs can spell

 

     After dinner tonight I asked Dear Hubby, “Do you want some I  c  e   c  r  e  a  m?”

     “Ice cream?”  Gavin ran to sit in front of the counter.  “Hey sis, she said ice cream!”

     “For real?”  Patty woke up from her nap on the couch and joined him at my feet.  “Oh, boy!”

     “No one’s getting anything if you two don’t move and let me dish it up.”  I pushed the two sixty pound door stops out of my way.  They started to boogie and bark.

     I dished up our ice cream and put a small scoop in each of the dog’s dishes.  Then I waded through what seemed like a dozen dogs.  Two excited Bull Terriers can magically multiply their number.

     Gavin and Patty danced around the kitchen.  “We’re getting ice cream, we’re getting ice cream!”

     I took DH his bowl dodging the two fur balls of energy on my way.

     “Us!  Us!  Give it to us!”

     “Wait your turn.”

     Two noses poked DH’s bare legs.

     “Yow!  Give them theirs so they get these cold noses away from my legs.”

     I went back to the kitchen and rattled their dishes.  Two rockets hit warp speed.  Patty sat in front of her dish holder her tail wagged furiously. 

     Gavin stood in front of his, looked at me, and barked.  “Now?”

     I gave them their treats, picked up my bowl, and went to sit in my chair.  I hadn’t taken two bites when one cold nose hit my elbow and another one nudged my foot. 

     “You had yours.  This is MINE.”

 OWAS members

Life uncomplicated

 

     Wouldn’t it be great to have an uncomplicated life?  People write about it, talk about it, I hear friends wishing for it all the time.  What makes one’s life complicated?  If you could, what would you do to make your life uncomplicated?  What changes would be required?

     When Dear Hubby was forced into retirement because of his MS, many people commented on how nice our lives would be, how uncomplicated.  Not so.  With his retirement came different complications.  His MS worsened, we think that was due to the stress of losing the job he loved so much.  We tried to keep in touch with his friends from work but as it so often happens those people began to be uncomfortable around him and we heard from them less frequently.

     After a couple of years, we began to rid ourselves of a few obstacles.  We paid off the credit cards and we trimmed our budget.  We gave ourselves permission to take time to do things we enjoyed and not to sweat the small stuff.  When you stop worrying about what people think of you, when you do what you enjoy, when you keep your life simple and take pleasure in those down-to-earth things, life becomes uncomplicated.

     We don’t worry about keeping up with the Joneses, whoever they are.  We don’t spend money we don’t have.  We don’t have to worry about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel because we are out of the tunnel and enjoying the sunshine.

Weeds, rain, Koi, and worms

 

     Whew.  It’s a good thing we had another sunny day.  When I said that all that rain made the plants happy, I should’ve said the weeds were the happiest.  I spent all afternoon and most of the evening (while there was still enough light) pulling weeds.  I’ve only managed to clear the garden against the back fence and the backside of the pond garden. 

     Unfortunately, the weather report predicts rain for tomorrow and Tuesday so all my work might’ve been for nothing.  Two more rainy days and those weeds will be shooting up like sky rockets.  I hate to think about the growth spurts the weeds I didn’t pull will go through. 

     While I pulled weeds, I found a bunch of worms and as I found them, I tossed them into the pond.  My Koi were going crazy—they sure do love worms.  If I take the time, they’ll take them right out of my hands.  Tiki and Yang are real pigs about worms and will fight for the chance to get first grab.

MIL update home and happy

 

     Though getting around for her is not as easy as it was before her fall, my MIL is happy to be home.  Her stay at Liberty Nursing and Rehabilitation had turned her into a nervous wreck.  My MIL is a shy woman who isn’t used to hearing people bicker constantly.  She certainly wasn’t used to the potted geranium treatment—talking over her as if she wasn’t there.  Now she’s lavishing attention on her elderly Border terrier (who missed her something awful) and she’s happy.  You can’t beat that.

     Dear Hubby goes over every morning and they have breakfast together.  He then insists she do her exercises.  That doesn’t thrill her but she does them while grumbling the whole time.  Happily, she’s getting stronger every day.

Taking joy in a bad night of writing

 

     I look forward to sitting down in front of the computer, taking an idea from my notes and running with it.  I spend hours painting pictures with words.  I indulge myself in murder, suspense, and fantasy.  I relish creating characters, scenery, dialogue, and plot.  On a good night, ideas flow in torrents from my fingers to the keyboard, to the page.

     My allotted time passes by in a flash.  I long to delete the tiny clock in the corner of my screen that shows me my interlude is nearly over.  “Just five more minutes,” I whisper.  A line used on my parents when they caught me reading a book, under the covers by flashlight, long after bedtime.

     On a bad night, my Ideas come in fits dragged from the depths, screaming in agony the words struggle to be born.  Those are usually my best works.  At that point, I realize again that the best things that come to us in life come through struggle and pain.  Therefore, a bad night is the best time to take joy in my writing.

Royal Pains a royal flush

 

     I’ve been very pleased with the USA and TNT Networks the past several years.  They offer a number of original and enchanting shows, most of which I find better entertainment than what the major networks hurl at us.  These USA and TNT shows have clever writers who seem to enjoy entertaining the public. 

     I watched the season premiere of USA’s newest show, Royal Pains tonight.  They’ve hooked me once again.  I must say, Royal Pains is different, clever, and so far, entertaining.  They hooked me with Monk, In Plain Sight, Burn Notice, and Psych, when they came out.  I watch them regularly.  TNT has me hooked on Saving Grace and Leverage.  

     Hey, CBS, NBC, and ABC take a lesson from USA and TNT, hire some good writers, buy some good books, and give us back real entertainment.  We don’t want the reality crap shows you seem to want to palm off on us.

Rainy night rainy day…

 

     My plants are happy.  We’ve had rain, rain, and more rain.  The dogs aren’t happy they don’t like wet.  I’m not happy because I’m typing this up in between thunderstorms—not my favorite weather. 

     We did need the rain, if only so I didn’t have to water the gardens.  It was beginning to look as though I might before the rain began last night, and has continued throughout the day and into the night again.

     I took the pups out for their last chance for the night out a few minutes ago.  Patty went out first, she hates rain, and she thinks she’ll melt in the stuff.  She cringed out the door, her tail tucked under, and clamped so tightly against her belly, I wondered if she’d actually untuck it long enough to pee.

     Then Gavin had his turn although he’s not as theatrical as Patty he does show some disdain for the rain.  Rather than dawdle he was done quickly and back in the door like a shot. 

     Earlier in the week, I’d thought about penciling in cleaning the kitchen floor on Thursday—not going to happen with the pups tracking in.  I’ll wait until the mud is gone.