Blog Archives

You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your relatives.

 

 

     Some family holiday meals are as pleasant as playing with an angry grizzly bear.  We don’t do them any more.  Instead, Dear Hubby and I enjoy a quiet meal at home without having to endure in laws or out laws.  We don’t go away for the holidays. 

     For some reason, at certain of these ‘holiday meals,’ Dear Hubby and I found ourselves seated at the children’s table.  Two children sat at the adult’s table because they’d raised a fuss over having to sit with their peers.  We didn’t have kids, we were well over twenty one, but there we were at the kiddies’ table.  (Not a smart thing to do with us.)

     I guessed it was some perverse torture set up by the parents of the spoiled brats…um children.  Therefore, we became the ringleaders of mischief.  Do not leave us to our own devices…you WILL pay.  DH’s specialty is food fights.  He is very subtle and no one has any idea how these battles begin—well, I do but no one else does.

     I specialize in telling bad fart jokes or engaging in other antics that will make milk come out of a child’s nose.  (I warned them not to seat us there.)

Gavin met Madison

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Madison, who always looks for me when they walk past the yard

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The nose knows

     Gavin finally met Madison today.  I was so proud of him he was a perfect gentleman.  He didn’t bark or show any of the hostility he has shown to many of the dogs people walk past our yard.  Could it because she’s also a BT?  I’m betting on it.

     Madison wasn’t too sure of him at first since she’d only moments before met with a hostile Pit bull who had snapped and growled at her.  Gavin was all tail wags and happy little whines of greeting.  What a flirt he was, trying to get her to come closer for a smooch.  He was thrilled when she eventually came to the fence to become acquainted.  That boy certainly loves the girls.

     Patty wouldn’t have been nice with Madison since she doesn’t like any other dogs.  Gavin is her one and only dog pal.  This all stems from the time a Pit bull attacked her through our back fence a few years ago.  It’s a shame because Madison has the energy to keep up with her (not that Gavin doesn’t) but another playmate for her would be nice.  However, she’d rather stick to her Gavin.

His balance and mobility are limited with MS

 

     We keep a supply of ice packs on hand at all times.  Balance and mobility are not Dear Hubby’s strong suit.  His neurologist and I want him to keep a cane or walker by the bed but he’s stubborn and seldom does.  At least twice a week I hear him take a tumble upstairs after he’s gone up for the night.

     My heart does a rabbit run and I bolt up the stairs to find him sitting on the edge of the bed.

     “You okay?  What happened?”

     “Yeah, I fell onto my knees getting up is all.”

     “You scared me to death.  Did you hurt yourself?”

     “Nope, I’m fine.”

     My heart settles back into a normal rhythm again.  I stand there and watch him for a bit, drinking his image in.  I love him so much that when he hurts, I hurt. 

     We keep a mobility cart out in the yard so he can play with the dogs, but it’s only good in the spring, summer, and fall weather.  Once winter hits the cart becomes a useless thing that takes up space on the back porch.  He doesn’t get out as much and often becomes more depressed than usual. 

     The pups and I do our best to keep him smiling.  A laugh or two a day does him good and even eases his pain.  Friends, who remember him and visit, especially during the winter months, are like precious gems.

Thank you

     To all the people who clicked on my Keep a Breast icon I say, thank you.  For those of you who didn’t I say,  what are you waiting for?  If my sister’s beautiful face didn’t move you to click maybe this will… 

     As I said, my baby sister had a great sense of humor.  One day, after her first mastectomy, she  startled my Dear Hubby into peals of laughter when she asked, “Want to play with my Boob?”   and then threw her prosthesis at him.

Today she would’ve been 52

 

Mary    

 

 If  Mary had survived her last fight with breast cancer that took her away so young she’d be 52.  She didn’t, she lost that battle in 2001.  Her lively sense of humor will never brighten a room again.  In her memory, and as a favor to me, please click on the Keep a Breast icon at the bottom right hand side.

Jingle bells out

The doggy bells

     Yesterday Mari asked, “They ring bells?”  Yes, Mari my dogs ring the above bells to go out.  The bells are attached to the door that leads from the kitchen to the back porch.

     We taught our old male, Malcolm to ring the bells when he wanted out.  When we added our rescue girl Sadie to the household, he taught her how to ring them.  After he died, Sadie was our only dog for a while.  Then we got Gavin.

     Sadie was old by then, but she passed on the lesson of the bells to Gavin before she died.  Gavin became an expert bell ringer.  He can ring those bells so well and loud that it will drive a person (usually me) up a wall—he likes to go out, often. 

     Gavin taught Patty how to ring the bells after she arrived on our doorstep as a rescue.  She will ring them only when she really has to go out and she does it delicately.  With Gavin it sounds like Santa’s entire sleigh is battering down the door, with Patty you will only hear a little jingle of the bells.

It came from the north

     A cold front brought wind and rain mixed with snow.  The storm didn’t last long.  However, while it was here the rain and snow pelted sideways hard and fast.  Gavin and Patty rang the bells to go out.  I opened the door and they saw the rain.  They beat a hasty retreat.

     The pups no longer wanted to go out.  I got those ‘are you insane?’ looks from them.  They hadn’t been outside in hours and yet they decided they could wait. 

     Patty took the couch and Gavin, his chair.  For several hours neither one moved.  Dear Hubby went up for a nap.  I worked on my book.  All was quiet. 

     Gavin rang the bells to go out.

What foods do you crave when the seasons change?

 

     I find my cravings change with the seasons.  Right now, in the fall, I begin to crave vegetable laden soups and stews, crisp tart apples and apple cider, herb teas, pecan and pumpkin pies, and acorn squash.  Dear Hubby wants slow cooked beef and pork roasts with mashed potatoes and carrots or corn.  He wants apple crisp, bread pudding, and rice pudding with raisins all still warm from the oven.

     My father would make a wonderful turkey soup after Thanksgiving.  He’d boil down the turkey carcass, put in everything but the kitchen sink, and never wrote the darned thing down, he died in 1995.  I’d almost perfected his recipe after years of trial and error when DH decided he no longer liked turkey.  That was the end of that.  Now I make chicken soup with a PA Dutch flair.

     DH’s mother used to make one thing very well.  She made an applesauce cake to die for however, she no longer bakes.  No matter how often DH asks for it I won’t make her cake.  Why?  Because no matter how good it is, it can never compare to the memory of his mother’s. 

     It is fall, and I still crave Dad’s soup.  DH still craves his mother’s applesauce cake.  What foods do you crave when the seasons change?

Tons of leaves and two dogs

 

     Our yard has three trees, a large magnolia, a very tall tulip poplar, and a sweet gum tree.  In the spring and summer, I love them.  They shade our yard and house and keep us cool.  In the fall, I’m not so fond of them.  In the fall, they drop a ton of leaves.

     I raked leaves today.  Raked, and raked and raked them.  I raked leaves until I thought my arms would fall off.  I raked up enough leaves to hide several bodies in the piles if I wanted to.  Each pile is waist high and at least twelve feet long.

     Ah, yes the piles of leaves.  If you have kids (I don’t), they are a magnet.  You would think I’d have it easy without kids around.  However, I have two dogs who think they are kids and—you guessed it, the leaf piles are magnets to them.

     Our city will pick up the leaves if they are out on the street.  I need to haul those two huge piles of leaves out there.  Well, I will move them if I can keep the dogs out of them.

     I raked leaves.  Patty flew out the door and leapt into the nearest pile with great glee.  I raked the leaves back into the pile.  Gavin decided that she looked as though she was having fun so he followed suit and barreled into the other pile of leaves.  I raked again.  They both dashed through the first pile of leaves.  I raked.  With every trip outside—they played and I raked.

     My work gloves didn’t prevent the blisters from appearing on my hands.  I’m pooped.  Tomorrow the pups will be going outside on leashes until I can move the leaves out of the yard.

Peeling back the layers

 

     Every person has layers, like onions.  They have layers to their personalities, their life experiences, and even their dreams.  In creating characters, we need to remember this.  We need to give them those all important layers.  Without them, our characters fall flat. 

     We don’t need to write every detail but we need to know the minutiae behind our characters.  We need to know the little nuances that will make them unique and real to the readers.  We need to bring them to life.

     How do we do this?  Some people make complicated charts, lists, and countless outlines.  I’m lazy I don’t.  I have a one paragraph character description, maybe two, or three for major characters, in a file for each book I’m writing.  The most important thing is to peel back the layers and show the character’s goals, needs, and morality. 

     You need to show what drives the character.  Once you know what drives each character, what is beneath each layer, you’ve given them those all important three dimensional lives that will make the readers come back for more.

Um, the check is in the mail?

     I was going to sit down and write checks for all the bills tonight.  I guess I wasn’t supposed to.  After I wrote out the second check and went to write the third one, I was surprised to find that I didn’t have any checks left in the book.  “Okay,” I thought, “I’ll get a new book of them out.”  I dug around where I keep the checks and to my chagrin I found that yes, I’d used not only my last check in the book, but I’d used my last check.

     GAH!  Thank heavens I could go online and order more checks.  I hope the different companies I was writing checks to (okay, was going to write them to) can wait for the new checks to arrive since I can’t pay any of them online.  That’ll teach them.

     I’ve become so used to paying most of my bills through my bank or online I tend to forget that the city and county want their bills paid by check or cash.  They are so far behind the times it’s silly. 

     Now if only I can remember to buy stamps….

16 lbs of candy and a ton of smiles

It was interesting to see which costumes were popular among the Trick or Treaters this year. We had a great many firemen and a few other super heroes among the boys. There were more pirate wenches than there were pirates. The girls that visited brought more variety, dressing as vampires, witches, fairies, fairy princesses, princesses, and the pirate wenches I mentioned before.

We seldom had a lull.  At times, the line of T or T’ers stretched for a block. At other times, they came from two directions. All of the children were polite and said thank you. Wow, was that delightful.

We played music and had plenty of flashing lights, which contributed to several impromptu dance parties in the street. (It’s a good thing we’re on a side street and not a main street.) I even handed candy out to some people who drove by and commented on our display. All the smiles, children’s and adults’ that we saw Friday night were priceless.