Friday, March 29, 2013

Powder Room Epiphanies

http://www.decorateitonline.com/blog/2010/05/how-to-do-it-creating-a-killer-powder-room/


I was in the bathroom.... hold on... everyone does this. It isn't some shrine or weird place of punishment, unless you follow certain people. Anyway, while I was there it suddenly occurred to me that my life has been divided into a strange set of sequences that has been punctuated by some pretty awful things. I'll give you the synopsis cause by now I know you're indecently curious.

First phase began with my birth and went from 1956 until 1974. I was 17. This phase ended in death. My life totally shifted to another level and place. I don't think it ever occurred to me how radical that was until today. I mean, it was terrible but I never really saw it in this light before. I went from being a young girl in her late teens to a wife in her late teens dealing with the death of her parent and learning how to live with a person I'd known only weeks. No girl should have to be without her mother, particularly on the day she marries, or has her first child five years later. The shift was so profound that years later whenever I miss Mama I'm nearly inconsolable. I'm devastated all over again.

The second phase of my life was from my marriage 1974 until 2009 and culminated, again, in death. My husband suffered a violent heart attack and died as I tried to save him. This wasn't just a shift from one phase to another. This was a violent blow that simply slammed me into a whole other reality without any warning or time to prepare. I still suffer from post traumatic stress.

I thought Mama dying in a clinical setting of a hospital when I wasn't there was horrible. She wasn't coming home and I didn't get to say good-by. I'm left with an image of her unable get up, write, or to speak except with her eyes and being fed through a tube. At 17 this is horrible. And yet, I have to say that my second contact with death was worse than any nightmare I've ever experienced. Being wakened from a sound sleep to your husband thrashing and having him breathe his last breath in your face is an image you won't shake quickly, if ever.

So, in my tiny powder room, I realized that I'm well into the third phase of my life and if it follows the pattern, this won't end well. This is not a happy thought but let's be practical. And truthful. Looking at the pattern and knowing what I know, this is the reality of it. The ultimate end to all things is death.

Where does this leave me? Probably right where I was before. Sitting in the bathroom having my eyes opened to things I'd rather not think about. And getting a fairly clear revelation as to why I struggle with depression fairly regularly. If the high points of your life always end in violence, and believe me, my experience of death is not warm and fuzzy, but if they always end in this manner you're going to be dealing with gremlins regularly.

So, I need to stop beating myself up about feeling this way too much. I've been feeling guilty about feeling bad. It isn't like I've had what the average consumer would term a normal life. The stories I could tell, and probably will some day, are not pretty. Living with an alcoholic was not fun. And still, I was a good kid who never did drugs or smoked or drank or partied. I was a good mom, faithful wife, and caring sister. I wasn't perfect but despite the awful things I've seen and the mistakes I made, I've turned out o.k. I need to stop saying, "Get over it."

The key now I think is try to make this next phase, presumably the final one, last as long as possible and hope that it contains more joy than the two previous ones. For now, at least, it doesn't.

What do you do for the third act?





Thursday, March 28, 2013

Just One Touch

Hi....

Why I'm still up is simply beyond my comprehension. I'm so tired. You know how tired I get sometimes. For most of the evening I've been reading blogs and other stuff. I sat and watched .... some show on my computer... I think I only watched one but at the moment, I'm not sure. Then I got up to shut the system down, only to check email and posts one more time... cause we all do that.

Anyway, I just clicked on my Timeline and there you were, smiling out at me, those wonderful blue eyes sparkling just for me. I remember that moment clear as a day. I could read your mind just by looking at your face. It was all there. I remembered. And then, in one blinding flash my whole being screamed with one phrase... I just want touch you. You hands, your arms, you face. Just to put my hands on your cheeks and feel your warm skin and to breath in the scent of you. The sound of that silent scream washed over me like a raging torrent and I was blinded by waves of tears and I gasped for breath with muffled sobs. I buried my face in my hands because I could not bear the flood.

I know...melodramatic. I always was, wasn't I. I'm not so much anymore, except about you. I suppose I should be embarrassed, even though you'd say not.

But you still take my breath away. Every time I see you, I simply can't breath. There is this place between breathing in and breathing out where everything seems to catch. Sometimes, I'm afraid I won't be able start breathing again.  I wonder sometimes... no, I wish that you knew it, before... and now... that you do that to me.

I don't know if you ever knew it.

I only know that I just want to touch you for one moment, one more time.



Long Journey Through a Short Week.

Never was a Thursday so welcome as this one. I am off until Monday. I plan to sleep late tomorrow and then I hope that I have the energy to do some things around the house. I have several things that need doing.

As I suspected, I have a cold. Could be a bit of allergy along with it. I've been coughing up stuff, sneezing up stuff, and my head is stuffy. When that happens, I have dizzy spells. Around and around we go. It never ends, does it.

I want to do some writing. I'm planning to limit my online presence this weekend. We'll have Sarah for three days and with her here and my trying to do constructive things at the same time, it won't leave much of me left to do anything.

There is a streak of vanity in me. I love pretty shoes and wearing heels. I love basic black and that I look good in it. And I find that I like watching my stats click along. I'm about to go over 25,000. I used to not even notice it because ... well it seldom moved. These days it is moving at a fast clip. I've posted about this phenom before. Most are coming from G+ and I've had more new people commenting. I love it when people comment. Means I didn't waste my time. Of course I don't view  my blog as a waste of time. I do it for me and if someone else finds something to like about it, great. Yet, it is a very seductive to watch those stats. They kind of make you hope for more.

It was an insane day at work and I'm exhausted. The  pills have helped ease some of my stress and I hope I won't need them for long. I just wish I could get past the tiredness. I need to do stuff!

Mike is coming over this weekend end and I'm going to try and put up some of the cabinets. I need them and I'm tied of waiting for the "right" time. It is now. I'll take photos. Those of you who have been with me for years will remember other posts of my home improvement jobs and their interesting outcomes. We usually have success but it is a circuitous route to get there.

May you all have a blessed Easter. Remember the reason is not a warm fuzzy bunny but a Savior who loved you enough to give his life for you. Even at your worst, you matter to Him.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

A Happy Face

I slept really well last night. One little pill and I feel 100% better. I still have pain in my hands. I'm still tired but I don't feel as bad as I obviously did yesterday and for the last month. I'll probably take these for a few more days at least. The sleep is what helps the most and the pill helps with the anxiety. 

I'm in a place where I'm not happy. In fact, I begin to wonder if I've ever been really happy. There is nothing anyone can do about that so don't offer consolation or solutions. You don't know what it takes to make me happy. I don't either. So, it is my problem to solve. 

Happiness, in a general sense, is not found in people. People constantly disappoint you. Or they go away. No one is who they say they are, even though they think they are and will argue with you till the cows come home that "what you see is what you get". It isn't true. Most  of the time, we all are pretending something. So, depending on people to make you happy is self delusion. 

Happiness is not in things. Things get broken and if you rely on them to feel good, you're going to feel bad a lot. At the least, you'll be dissatisfied with something else. 

Happiness is not about where you're located. You can live in a palace and be unhappy. And while I suspect that all of these things can pacify a person, that is not happiness either. That's a drug.

Does anyone actually like people who always seem to be happy, without a care in the world? Don't lie. You know that you don't. I don't either. Because below it all, we know we're being deceived. We don't like that.

Most of us, in my opinion, don't really know what happiness is or how to get there. Yet, I've learned one interesting thing. Your physical condition does impact real happiness. I don't care what anyone says about people who are stoic in the face of critical illness and how some of them are happy despite being terminal. That's a bunch of poppycock. They aren't happy. They just recognize they can't fix it. They make the best of a bad situation. Pardon me if I cry because I'm sick. I'm not happy about it and I refuse to expect people who are suffering to act happy. I expect them to act civil, not overjoyed at their state of being. I forgive the grumpy old man who is hooked up to oxygen and will never leave his wheelchair again. He has reason to be grumpy. I forgive that and try to make him smile. It isn't happiness he feels and I can't give him that. I can give him a moment's relief from having to pretend.

Here's a quandary.  I'm a Christian and there is this warped idea out there among my brothers and sisters in Christ that no matter what the situation we are supposed to be overjoyed all the time to just be Christians. Our problems are not supposed to get us down and if they do we somehow embarrass God! I have no idea where anyone got this concept. It is not scriptural to me. Maybe someone took something Paul said and made it fit but I've read the Bible, several times, in several orders. I don't see it. 

Let me tell you misguided folks something you seem to ignore. When Jesus carried that cross, he was not dancing up the road to tune of "Singing in the Rain". He was dragging that thing behind him on a back filled with open, bloody gashes that exposed the bones. And when they nailed him to the cross on that hillside, he was not singing "The Hills are Alive". He was in agony and he showed it. He was in pain. He was suffering. He cried. He did not smile at the crowd and say, "It's ok, folks. I'll be fine." He even asked, "My God why have you forsaken me!" Does any of that sound familiar to anyone but me?

So, if I hurt and seem to moan about it and sob and cry...I'm in good company. I'm not happy about my condition, my position, or my location, I'm just thankful God has forgiven me for my failures.

I don't know where this post came from but I think sometimes I moan and groan too much and I feel bad about it. I dislike not being "happy" in a recognizable way. I get embarrassed that my blog contains so much grief, disappointment, and pain. But I realize that is what this societal conception of happiness has done to people. It has made us feel ashamed when we suffer. It tells us that we must greet pain with a smile. We must put on a "happy" face that says, "Don't mind me while I'm bleeding here. Just carry on with the party."

It is just a facade, a word that means a false face. You know it better by its more common name. A lie.



Tuesday, March 26, 2013

A Patch

I've reached my limit. I've had a horrible month. I anticipate this time of year being difficult for me but I expected more around the first of the year, the anniversary of Jerry's death. I was so busy it slipped by unnoticed for a week or more. So, I guess it just caught up with me.

Instead, in the last two months, I've simply been on the slippery slope where I was physically ill with a variety of things. In February, I had a rash on my ankles and legs that I have no idea what caused it but that cost me several nights sleep and a trip to the urgent care. I had pain in all major joints, was unable to walk without limping for days, was not sleeping well, even with medicine. I had increased ringing in my ears, more lost sleep, coughing, sneezing, and now, pain in my hands.

 I've been struggling with pain in my hands the last couple of days that was so bad I was having trouble working. I do tons of data entry. I write. My hands are my living. And they were in bad shape. Tonight, they are better. I asked people to pray for me and I started putting some medicine I use on other major joints on my hand. I still have pain but not nearly as bad. I am hoping by tomorrow that the pain will be gone.

And then there has been the last three weeks of overwhelming exhaustion that had me barely able to get through a day at work without falling out. Some days I had to simply find some place and put my had down because I was so tired I couldn't hold it up. By the time I dragged myself home I was in tears because I was so tired I couldn't bear it. It is a tired that you can't begin to imagine. No, you can't. I can't imagine it either. And when I lay down I could not rest. Things hurt.

The sheer volume of what I'm dealing with has become unbearable. I simply can't take it anymore. The proverbial brick wall lies in shambles from the impact. And when my mind starts reasoning that what I'm doing is not living, but dying slowly, in pieces, then I know I'm in a bad place. It is a road I've traveled several times and it ends on a ledge overlooking a bottomless pit. You're too tied to do more than stare down into it and think about how very easily it would be to just close your eyes and lean over and let go. It isn't going to get better.

I came home from work today and took Ativan. They prescribed it for me when Jerry died. I was on it a couple of months. It is amazing stuff but I stopped taking it after a while because it is highly addictive. I have enough problems without an addiction. I've taken them a couple of times since then, for about a week at a stretch. But I still have maybe 25 pills. Tonight I started again. This is the point at which addiction is a very minuscule issue.

No, it isn't a fix. I've decided nothing can be fixed. It's nothing but a patch.





Thursday, March 21, 2013

Naked Babies

I don't have many things left that belong to my grandmother (Mama). Everything I had was sold by one of my husbands relatives when we were sent to Germany. Many heirlooms were just gone and I was devastated. So, what I have left I cling to like Titanic survivor on a raft. They are small things actually. 

I've picked up crochet again since my husband died and it has been such a blessing. I really lose myself when I'm working with a piece and when I see what other people are doing, I get a bit envious. I know enough about my skill to know I can crochet anything if you give me the pattern and these days, I've ventured out and done several things without a pattern. 

Still, there are those with a talent for crochet that I will never be able to touch. My grandmother had it. I decided to share this today when I saw some micro crochet items that someone had posted on Facebook.

The two dolls you see here, next to that American dime, are wearing clothes crocheted by my Mama. They have a bonnet, a dress, and a tiny pair of panties. Don't believe me?


She got the dolls at a baby shower many years ago. They used to put the naked babies in your glass, sometimes frozen in an ice cube. They are actually a soft rubber and their tiny limbs can actually be bent or moved. I don't do that because they are old but if you've seen the modern version of these, they are now a hard plastic and slightly larger. These ladies could sit on a quarter. At any rate, she took them home and crocheted clothes for them. 


When I can crochet something like this, I'll consider myself a master of the art. 





Wednesday, March 20, 2013

A Tiny Piece of Heaven... Wrapped in a Candy Shell

There has to be a place where you can escape all your problems and still be breathing and above ground. I mean, don't they say "if you can imagine it, you can do it"? So, I can imagine a place like that....

And there has to be enough money to not have to worry about bills or anything. And you're meals will be brought right to your chair on the lanai where you are intently studying the clouds' motions as they move with the sound of the surf. Right?

HEY! I'm a writer! I can make it up.

That's my point. If I can make that up, there has to be a place like that.

I'm depressed. I'm got this ringing in my ears and it is driving me mad, seriously. I'm so tired I could simply lie down right where I stand. Just give me a pillow and a blanket. I suspect they're connected. I don't want to know, so don't tell me. Even if they are there is nothing that can be done, just like everything else I have wrong with me.

I used to look up things to see if I could find out what was wrong and if there was something I could do. I stopped. Knowing became more frightening than not knowing. Now I just want to go away.

I don't know where that place is.  Instead, I'm sitting here eating Peanut M&M's.

That's as close as I can get to heaven right now.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Hi Ho, Hi Ho.... Ho Hum.........



I'm back at work today and just as I suspected, the work was lying exactly where I left it! However, I am not very motivated to deal with it. 

I do not feel .... I don't know what I feel. I'm tired and I want to go back to bed but I slept fine. I got up when the clock went of. I don't hurt especially bad anywhere, just the usual aches that virtually never stop. I'm just tired and that's probably a bad sign. If you get enough sleep you shouldn't be tired. Right?

For breakfast, I ate a bowl of grits. They were hot, soft, and buttery and a lot easier on my stomach than anything else I could think of to eat. Good grits are nearly the consistency mashed potatoes without lumps. Grits should never, ever have lumps, feel sandy, or be watery. They should not be the consistency of Play Doh(c) either. I can't explain it. I just know how to make them.

For lunch, I'm thinking a salad. I don't know if that is what Carolyn wants but if not, I'll go alone. I am not very good company either anyway. 

Tonight I think Dave has Sarah for a while. Not sure. She's been doing really good with school again and she is in after school care for a couple of hours because her mother went to work.

I am going to try and work on the novel again. I've been working in fits and starts. Mostly arranging things to get a logical sequence of events. I kind of know what that is. I've had to stop reading the stuff too much and just write a synopsis onto the index cards on the cork board so I can sort it by summary.


Graphic Courtesy Google - I'll put one of mine up once I make it.
What I'm doing looks a bit like the graphic to the left. It is the cork board view. One problem I had was that I had not written synopsis notes on the cork board index cards for each scene. I had done it for some but not most.  Incidentally, you create the note cards in that yellow space on the top left of the graphic. It is called Synopsis. Duh. I discovered that not writing as synopsis is actually a handicap. You don't have to do it. It just makes things easier if you do.

How does it make it easier? Well, because my story is a jumbled mess of scenes it makes it hard to know what goes where. I can move sections around easily but I needed an overview. 

There is an outline feature but I was not getting anything helpful when I pulled it up and had no idea how to get it to work. The graphic below is what that looks like when it is created correctly. When I tried to view my outline of the novel to see the sequence of events, the center column, the synopsis section, of that colored area was fairly blank. 


I found that when I did a summary of each scene in the synopsis section, it showed up in two places: on the index card on the cork board AND this synopsis section filled in! This has helped enormously.

Once that is done, I hope I will be able to see where things don't fit and move them. Moving them is as easy as drag and drop. Then, I can rewrite things. 

Now, I've spent a lot of time on this and if you don't use Scrivener, none of that will make sense and today... I just don't have any interest in explaining it. Suffice it to say that the writing program I am using is awesome with lots of bells and whistles. 





Monday, March 18, 2013

Night, Night

I'm calling it a night. I've had soup and sat and watched a couple of Midsomer Murders episodes. Those things are an hour and a half long! That without commercials. Takes forever to get through one. But I do like them. I'm on season 10.

Anyway, I'm going to bed. Stomach is uncertain. Some symptoms have gone but I still don't feel very well. I am hoping that sleep will set everything right. I hope I can sleep. Last night wasn't so good. I rather wish I'd been able to take a nap today but I couldn't seem to get there. Just felt so rotten.

I'm also feeling rather depressed. I don't know why. Could be everything that is going on in my life. Uncertain job, some family issues, and not feeling well... all a recipe for depression. So, I'm off to bed and then work tomorrow. I'm now a day behind again and that's never good.

I was looking at my post count for this year. I have 25 post for 2013. Last year by this time I had about three times that. I always had a goal of one post a day. It has never seemed to work. Things just get in the way. Or I have nothing to say.

So, I'll say good night.

Icky Day, All Day

The weekend was wet and cold and Monday is more of the same. I am home sick today. I don't know what I have...  some sort of stomach virus. I seem to have all the usual ugly symptoms that accompany stomach upset except vomiting. God is good cause that particular symptom never ends well for me. I still feel rather icky. My stomach just doesn't feel very good.

Last night I worked on my WIP a bit. I did some moving of scenes and getting the structure more organized. I actually felt like I accomplished something at one point. It suddenly seemed as if some things were jelling. We'll see. The thing needs a huge rewrite and that terrifies me no end. I'm going to continue to get the random sections from NaNo 2011 woven into it and then see what's missing. I see more writing in my future. I just wish Simon would start his incessant chatter again. I write much better when he just dictates it to me.

I ate scrambled eggs at lunch and some bacon. Well, I was starving by then since I was too sick to eat breakfast. And I felt like my stomach had settled down. However, the eggs didn't set well and I felt worse afterward. In fact, well... never mind. Best not share that bit. Suffice it to say that I could have driven to Florida for free. Must go now. Stomach just doesn't fancy sitting up. I've been lying down most of the day, watching Midsomer Murders. Probably why my writing sounds suspiciously British today. LOL.

Anyway, I'm thinking soup for supper. We'll see. Hope your day has been better than mine.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

A Small World

There is no guide on how long grief lasts. I've wondered for over four years now if there were markers, like mile posts along the highway, that would tell me when I was getting close to the point where I won't remember, relive, or feel the death of my husband. Unfortunately, no one appears to have erected such markers. The road is long and I've seen nary a one.

I missed Jerry today.  So, I stopped and bought flowers and took them to the cemetery. I've avoided it for months, felt guilty every time I pass the gates, which is fairly often since they are on a road I travel several times a week. No matter how many times I pass the sadness of it never fades. Oh, I don't fall apart as I once did but honestly, in some ways, this is much worse. I can't explain it. There is a sense of betrayal in it. Imagined, I'm sure, but nonetheless felt. 

As I put the flowers beside his tombstone, I couldn't breath and I couldn't look at the name graven in the white marble. I apologized for being so long in coming and tried to explain  but it is no use. While I know he'd understand, I feel no better. The bands around my chest only tighten and I have to go back to my car where I sit and sob and try to breath and explain why. 

When I see someone walking in my direction, I know it is time to go. No one wants to share this.

And I came home. I don't feel better. I do what I always do. I push it away and try to think about something else. It's a small world, grief. There is nothing else.


Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Lessons Learned, Now Pass the Caffeine, Please

Last night was my online writers' group and I think we all had a really good time. Lots of talking and laughing by everyone. Topic covered "magic". Basically, what is magic and how do you write it. The discussion centered around the difference in magic and science. Seemed to be a topic they all felt very strongly about and it is probably why it generated such lively discussion.

We also discussed the Roaming Paragraph, which in this instance people hated doing my assignment. Too many rules and much harder to write. However, I think it went well and the ending satisfied most of us. I always learn something from these RPs. No one else does but I always take something from it. 

What could I possible learn from the experience of the RP? Well, let me see. 
  • Point of view is very crucial. Finding the right POV may not be easy but is necessary if the story is to feel right. 
  • Multiple POV is a juggling act that must be managed carefully or you should stick with a single POV.
  • Transitions are something a good many writers pay absolutely no attention to. They simply don't check to see if they made it clear. I think this is because it is "clear" to the writer. That's not good. So, must watch my transitions with more care. I have multiple POV in my WIP (work in progress).
  • First person doesn't lend itself well to multiple point of view characters. 
  • Third person works better for M-POV if the transitions are kept in check. 
  • I am more comfortable writing in 3rd person POV.
  • After this experience, I think I need to get rid of some of my POV characters in my WIP. Or at least, not let them be a POV charcter.
  • People don't like rules. They balk and the more complex the rules, the more they balk. 
  • When forced to follow rules they don't like, people may not learn from it and they'll complain that the rules are the problem. They may refuse to follow them.
  • You can learn something from anything you do... if you choose.
  • When you can laugh at yourself about your mistakes, they don't seem nearly as bad as they did when you made them. I made a big one at the beginning of the RP. Only one person knew and generously kept quiet. I elected to tell it. It is quite liberating admitting your faults. And it allowed everyone to laugh with me rather than at me.
  • Never let a challenge go unmet, even if it seems too hard.
So, what else have I learned this week? 

I'm exhausted. I have been for nearly two weeks. I feel absolutely drained, a mind numbing tired. I'm having a hard time at work and at home focusing and doing things. It feels suspiciously like a fibro problem. I don't have huge amounts of pain anywhere in particular but I have lots of aches all over and feel as if I've not had any sleep. My neck and shoulder especially bother me.

When I'm like this, writing is practically impossible. Even doing this blog is taking far more concentration than it should. I have no idea what to write about and what I have written is simply a rambling narration. Boring. 

I do better with caffeine in me. I have to go buy some of my coffee. Mike bought coffee for me over the weekend and he bought decaf. Yes, yes, yes, I know all the spiel about caffeine. Thank you. I have one cup a day. Fibro is like a blow to the head. At the moment, and all day yesterday, I could not function well. Even felt sick until after lunch when I had a Panera salad and Acai tea, lots of it. The afternoon went much better and I felt more alert. This morning, I'm still not really very alert and it is 10 a.m. 

So, need something with caffeine? I think so.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Glad Tidings

If you have not noticed it is Friday and at least one of us is thrilled. That'd be me. It has been a very pretty but cold day and I'm not sure if the weather is responsible for my improved disposition or if I got a better night's sleep. I did go to bed a bit earlier because I couldn't hold my head up any longer.

I had grand intentions of working on my WIP and I did do some work. But it seems so little that I am a bit discouraged. I mentioned my lunch last week with my friend, Doug, somewhere back there behind the root vegetables. You'll have to move that crate of apples but it's there. Anyway, Doug gave me a rough sketch of a way to plot out my story arcs. It made perfect sense at lunch... when I didn't take notes.... and had only an hour to grasp it. When I later mentioned it to him, and the fact that I totally forgot most of what he said, he then, kindly and as a true friend, met me in a hangout and reviewed it again. I took notes this time and he even shared his worksheet of his own story with me. He'd actually done that in his email before but I had not scrolled far enough down the email to see the attachment. Why does Gmail put them at the bottom that way?

So, after going over it with Doug, I set about trying my hand at it. The problem is I have to sort out some things now in the back story. As I filled in my excel chart, I realized I probably now have enough to write that story, too. I'm not doing it. But I begin to get a clearer sense of what was happening and why.

I like Doug's chart idea. He got the idea from a video by Dan Wells called Story Structure The link will take you to the playlist I have of it. I actually have watched this last year but things being what they are, don't remember a thing. I'm going to watch again, I think.

Anyway, the chart does help me see connections and make connections. So, I've started with the back story and plan to work my way all the way to the current story. It will be a very long chart. But from what I'm seeing, it clarifies a few things because as I enter data, new information and ideas keep popping up. I can see where something needs to be moved or removed. So, at least I have a plan now. It begins to look suspiciously like plotting.

Did I mention that it is Friday? I'm glad.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

A Crash Course

Finally, I think I've got my computer back online! I really think it was about ready to crash.  It has taken me the better part of two days to restore and re-install all the updates. I still don't have a lot of software back on but it's OK I think. Most of that I can do as needed. If I don't use it, why put it back on here. I'm leary about putting my writing back on it. Yes, I back things up but you know, after awhile you have so many copies you don't know what's what.

I am exhausted and I did nothing but sit and download updates. Why don't they just put them all on a disk so we can buy it every six months and be done with it? Seriously. The disk are about five bucks! And would help the postal service.

I have to say the computer is running much better and the stuff that wasn't working, even after the repair, are now apparently fine. Nasty bugs.

My one complaint is that Avast, my virus software, just released a new version and it totally shut down my system. I nearly had to restore it a second time. I tried it twice and then searched their website. Apparently I'm not the only one having the problem. I kept a check on the site for two days and someone finally posted that they had AMD graphics and that it appeared to be a conflict with the software. They never got a response from tech but I have AMD graphics. So, I'm using MS Security Essentials for the moment. I'm hoping that Avast will recognize the issue and correct it and release a fix. I have used Avast for over 6 years and never had a problem. I don't trust any virus software made by Microsoft and I'm annoyed by the thought I'll have to purchase one with a annual subscription!

I can tell you one thing, I'm going back to my old method of cleaning the slate every 6-12 months. It may be a couple of days out of my life but is still the best way to insure you keep things running smoothly, and I don't care what anyone has to say about it. That's a lot cheaper than the $150 repair bill that didn't fix it completely. Not their fault, really but think about it. I've never had a computer repaired by anyone else in the 25 years in which I've owned one. No, never. And my computers last about 10 years.

Now, I'm going to get ready for bed. I'm really exhausted. Did I say that already? Oh, yes. I did. See, it's true! I'm ready to crash.



Out of Pocket

It is shaping up to be one of those weekends where I'm out of pocket for most of it. We have Sarah here but my laptop is doing things that scare me. So, I'm restoring it to factory settings and starting fresh.

Even before I had to put it in the shop it was acting up and it is getting worse. They tech said I had a root kit that he had a hard time getting rid of so, I'm going to assume the damage is a result of that or that something else was missed. Hey, even he said it was nearly impossible to get out. This means I'm going to just clean the slate.

What that means in terms of other stuff is that I won't be doing it. I've been working on doing some back ups, particularly my writing stuff. My only back up drive has problems of its own so I have to be sure things are actually backed up before I clean anything off.

I lead a crazy life. No one wishes they were me.

The ideas that my lunch with Doug stirred up will have to remain ideas. I've been making notes on a note pad but I really want to try something he suggested in getting the characters organized with who, what and why. I think it will make it much clearer. It did over lunch.

For any who love and adore me, few though you be, email still works on the desktop. You know, I have fewer problems on my desktop than anything else. I used to do all my writing there. And, if truth be told, I did more writing! Perhaps that is the answer. Use the desktop for all writing and only use the laptop when I have to be away from home. I still like being mobile but if it is actually hindering the writing, then I need to rethink it.

May your Saturday be sunny and fun, and your pockets be full.


Friday, March 1, 2013

Leave a Message


Every day I receive a Bible verse in my email. Sometimes it doesn't seem to fit anywhere. I read it and think about it for a few moments and then I usually delete it. Sometimes, I leave it in my email all day and will periodically go and read it again. It fits my mood, gives rise to a question, answers a question, or comforts me in some way. I save those until it serves its purpose.

This morning I had this verse in my email.

"Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee. My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." Psalm 73:25-26 KJV

I don't know why but this came at a time when I was feeling very alone. I've felt the isolation more this week because I was dealing with physical problems that deprived me of large amounts of sleep. I tend to go into a depression after such episodes.

When you are awake and sick at 4 a.m. and there is no one to call, it is a terrible feeling. It is at moments like this that you realize just how vital human companionship is to each of us. Even the worst companionship is better than none to some. In fact, the worst decisions of your life will be made when you have no one to call.

Of course, I could have called across the hall to my son but he has to be at work by 6:30 and so he wouldn't have been able to help. I'd have only caused a shortage in his sleep. There was no one else. So, at times like this, you just sort of call God. Unfortunately, it is at the worst possible times that he seems to be away from the phone.

I know He's not really gone anywhere but the distance is just so far and the comfort of another voice, a hand to hold, or just someone sitting in the room with you is no little thing. We feel it so much more in times of distress. Humans crave other human contact in times of crisis more than any other time. Suicides rarely kill themselves when they are with someone.

I've had more days of stress in the last four years than I've had in my entire life. Nearly every week for 208 weeks something has hit me with enough force to knock me off my feet. I don't know how many more there are to get through. I only know that doing it alone is much harder than sharing the load. And some days the load crushes me.

So I make the call. I leave a message. This morning I had an email.





Thursday, February 28, 2013

A Brain in a Box

Thursday dawned... well, it got light out. Gray skies, a rather half-hearted rain, and freezing cold greeted me when I raised the garage door. Yikes! Into the breech.

I went to work. Things are backing up and they are beginning to intimidate me. I hope tomorrow will be a day that I'll get it all organized. I didn't get a lot done in the morning but my continued exhaustion is wreak havoc with my concentration.

I had lunch with my friend, Doug today. He's a brilliant friend, is Doug. You'd really like him. When the opportunity to have lunch with him arises, I'm thrilled. Fortunately these opportunities seem to arise when I'm having knotty problems with my story. Doug is the king of disentangling knotty story problems. Really, I don't know how he does it but it is as if he has this laser vision that cuts through layers and layers of tangled story. You hand it to him and suddenly, in minutes, lunch was only an hour remember, he hands you back the core of the story you were looking for but couldn't see. I left lunch with my prize, a brain in a box! Yep, Doug gave me a brain in a box and it is going to revolutionize my story.

No, really.

Seriously, it will.

Sigh. OK. So, it's only going to get me out of a corner that I boxed myself into when I introduced the box. Wow... it isn't a pun but it should be. But Simon is going to love this box. When I tell him.

The afternoon was much brighter, at least, in my mind. That brain in the box was a nice motivator. Staying focused was much harder but I managed to get more work done than I originally anticipated. But there's still piles.

I'm so tired and it is really silly to be sitting here writing a blog post. I can barely think straight and when I read this it sounds ridiculous. But that is what I do.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

A Lack of Sleep

It has been a horribly long day. For the uninformed, from 6:30 Monday morning until 10:30 Tuesday night I had no sleep. I had a rash, according to local medical experts. Ah, the marvels of modern medicine. So, I was scared to sleep all day Tuesday for fear I would not sleep Tuesday night, something that did not present a problem at all as it turned out.

They gave me a cream to be applied every 4 hours and it works well to lessen the itching. No idea what it is.... long name ending in .. sone. Sounds like a steroid to me. They gave me some pills that the insert reported would cause dizziness, blurred vision, and assorted other frightening reactions. It suggested I not drive while taking. I felt it was good advice. I took it when I went to bed. The bottle said 1-3 pills as needed for itching. In light of the reaction list, I also felt it wise to err on the side of moderation. I took one pill. I slept fine and no itching. 

Of course, I was so tired I suspect Gabriel would have suffered a stroke blowing his horn to wake me up. In fact, I had a hard time getting up. I was really sleeping. I got up at 7:30 a.m. and had to be at work at 8 a.m. I was 10 minutes late. I had to stop for OJ and a sausage biscuit. Hey, I gotta eat. 

As soon as I got to work my day went loco. Move briefing at 8:20 and then one client after another until noon. I worked on files and mailed out notices. Lunch was at Captain D's. I don't think I was good company. I really wanted to sleep. My friend, Carolyn drove us to lunch and that was probably a good idea. 

The rest of the afternoon I worked on assorted things. I could barely concentrate and if you asked me what I did, I couldn't tell you. Just paper shuffling.

I stopped by the store on my way home to get some things to eat. I came home and had a salad. Dave brought Sarah home with him for the evening. Then I did dishes, mopped the floor, washed two loads of laundry, all before 8:30.

So that is where I end my day now. 9:58 p.m. and I'm done. I'm going to find my bed. I wonder why we say such things? My bed isn't lost. I know right where it is, right where it was when I got out of it. In fact, I'm going to seek it with joy... well, maybe gladness is more accurate. But that's another post for another day.





Tuesday, February 26, 2013

A Day in the Swamp

We've had rain for two days now.  Not a soft gentle spring rain. A cold, pouring rain that makes the ground squish when you walk. My legs and hips do not like it, no one little bit.

I was up all night last night. I have some kind of rash on my legs from my ankles to mid calf on the left leg and slightly lower on the right. It itched like mad all night and I was miserable. The only thing that helped was leaving my leg uncovered and with my heat at 60 degrees, that is not pleasant. So tonight I'll have to find a way to stay warm but not let the legs get over heated. The electric blanket made it much worse I think.

I am annoyed that my whole day was a waste. I have had no sleep but there is no way I could work or write or crochet. I lay on the couch like a slug, t.v. shows playing and I can't tell you what I watched! I could have got more editing done but my brain is basically slush.

Tomorrow is Wednesday and after a missed day of work it is going to be horrible. Well, it is what it is, I guess.


A Late Evening with the Dream Stealer

I'm headed off to bed but since I'm in a writing mood, I felt it only right that I post a short blog. Tonight was my online writers group and as usual it was entertaining. Such a nice group of friends I have and it is always fun.

However, I've been setting goals for myself the last several weeks. I spent a lot of time actually putting them down on paper, a calendar. I have to update it every weekend but that is actually helpful. Anyway, since today is Monday and I've finally reached a place where I think I've talked about it enough and filled in my calendar with my goals. I should start today.

May I have a drum roll please? Wait... maybe some soft music to set the mood. Something that builds up to the drum roll.

Where was I? Oh, the writing group closed slightly early for the evening; 8:30 is our usual time but tonight it was closer to 8:15. I did a few things, got a drink, and I sat down at my computer and opened Scrivener. I marked my time on my calender. It was 9 pm. I opened The Dream Stealer. Simon stepped off the pages and into my head.

The thing is a real mess as a result of writing in scenes. My usual method of writing is from point A to point Z. This works really well. The Dream Stealer began that way but in a stupid attempt to fill in holes, I wrote 50,000+ words in scenes out of sequence for NaNo in 2011. This is not a good way to write. It is really insane. I have a surplus of scenes that seem to belong nowhere. Maybe the next book? Hah! I have to finish this one. I have enough words to finish it but as I organize and structure the scenes I find there are still places that are all wrong. So, do I start over? I began to think I must. But there are some good scenes, a lot of them. I may not know a lot but I know when the writing is good.

Anyway, I stopped at 12:00 midnight mainly because my brain couldn't take anymore but also because I actually need sleep. Besides, sleep is where he's does his best work, I hear. Dreams are not safe from the Dream Stealer.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Car Slushies and Random Escapes

The sound of rain falling is just outside the study window. It is freezing cold, too. When I left work at five someone had poured a slushy all over my car and it clung it in clumps. Did I say it was freezing? Honestly, if the sun had been shinning I think it would have felt warmer but because frozen water was everywhere it felt like I had been transported to the North Pole... at least pretty close to it.

As a result of this lovely little front that pushed in with its frozen treat, I acquired a raging migraine. It started small, just before lunch. I thought lunch would make me feel better. It didn't. By two I had to take an Imitrex. At 4, I got very ill. That is what Imitrex does to me. I get sick before it gets better. It is now 8:45 and I still have a moderately bad headache and my nose is now stuffy. So, I will have to take something for the sinus issue and hope the head stops pounding. I will not sleep well with this headache. My neck is not good either but that is typical with these headaches. Thankfully, they have become much sparser in the last couple of years. I hope the trend continues. 

I enjoyed my little weekend getaway a lot and I am going to have to start doing something like that when I can. It was enough to break my sense of imprisonment. 

Did I say that? I suppose it is true. When Jerry died he left me stranded in a place where I have no family but my sons and granddaughter and one sister, who is also trapped. She has no one but us. In the current economic nightmare we call an economy, although there is nothing economic about it, you can't just up and leave a perfectly good job because you want to break out. So, random escapes may be the answer.

Bake me a cake, will ya?

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

A Hop, Skip & A Jump

Well, it seemed like that is what it was coming home yesterday. Tuesday dawned grey and rainy and stayed that way for about an hour. I left the city of Jonesboro in the great state of Georgia at 8 a.m. central time. That's 9 a.m. eastern... and the earliest I could leave if I wanted to miss Atlanta's notorious gridlock on the interstate. I still came to a standstill at Turner Field and from there, could have taken a horse and buggy on I-75 through downtown Atlanta faster than I made it through town on the car. It was 5 miles an hour when I could move at all and took at least 30 minutes to cover two miles. You can do the math if you're so inclined. I've already done it once, thank you.

Once through town I tried the Spanish cd but by the time I reached Dalton, Georgia I was feeling very sleepy. The gloom, boring scenery, and maybe I just wasn't awak yet. I popped in my Drifters cd and from there all the way to Evansville, Indiana I kept the music going. I played the three cds of the The Drifters and they carried me to Chattanooga, Tennessee. From there Patsy Cline got me almost to Nashville and was picked up by Frankie Valli's greatest hits. I hit Nashville just after noon and came to a crawl until I reached the other side of town at which point, Credence Clearwater Revival carried me all the way to Evansville, Indiana. I only stopped in Tennessee for lunch and twice at McDonalds to get a drink. I got home just after 4 p.m. And CCR was still singing when I switched off the car. Do you know that their version I Heard it through the Grape Vine is nearly 12 minutes long! And more than half that is instrumental, very good instrumental, too.

Did you also know that you can't dance in the car while driving? It is very frustrating.

Altogether, it was a rocking ride and I actually enjoyed it. Generally I really hate traveling alone. I think just the fact that I could relax all weekend, didn't have to deal with anyone's drama, run anyone anywhere, or do anything I didn't want to do actually left me fairly relaxed. I will return to work tomorrow much more rested than when I left on Friday.

I am now looking forward to that trip to Florida in May. Anyone want to go on a day long canoe trip with crazy but fun people? Lunch is included and we'll loan you a towel. Must have a good bladder as there are NO potty breaks for several hours. I do hope the weather cooperates again this year. We've done this for a couple of years now and I really love it. I think there're videos on Heart of Dixie - YouTube from the 2011 trip. Yep, it's there. But for some reason YouTube is glitchy and my videos stop in the middle for no reason! 

Would you believe I still have not done my taxes? I have begun to hate doing them more each year. It isn't hard. I don't have any money so it is relatively simple. I just hate doing Indiana state taxes! The most awful form I ever ran across and if you know me you know I've lived in several different states. Until last year you could file state taxes online here for free through the state. They stopped it. Now I'll have to pay to file it. So, they'll be getting a paper return. I'm betting I won't be the only one.

Away with me now. I have some work to do down the hall and I probably should put away the laundry. Another job I really hate. I don't mind doing the laundry until it gets to the sheets and towels. I usually will simply take them to the living room and put on a movie or watch a show while I do them. But I really hate it.

I only work two, count them, TWO days this week. Thank God for a job that allows me generous vacation time. I'm out of here for now. 

Hope everyone has a lovely weekend.








Monday, February 18, 2013

Mini Vacations in the South

I left Saturday at 9 a.m. headed for Jonesboro, Ga and I arrived around 5 p.m. CT. That's about when I expected to arrive, actually. I didn't stop for anything but the traffic jam in downtown Atlanta. There was an accident somewhere ahead and it took me about half an hour to get through a two mile stretch.

The trip was relatively uneventful. I gassed up in Henderson, Kentucky because fuel is about five cents cheaper there than it is across the river in Indiana. I popped in my Spanish language CD and for the next two hours I practiced Spanish. That is one very long CD! However, it got me to the Hopkinsville exit where I took a potty break and bought a diet coke that was fairly flat. However, I then plugged in the MP3 player with my old radio shows on it and from there all the way to Dalton Georgia I listened to Suspense. I had no idea I had that many radio shows on my MP3 player! It was really cool to be able to listen to them.

I stopped at the Lookout Mountain exit at 3 p.m. and had a very late lunch. I was going to stop earlier but I got off at an exit that the traffic flow was absolutely horrible and inconvenient. I got right back on the interstate and until I found another place better situated. I ate at Cracker Barrel and shopped a bit.

Once I arrived I was pretty much ready to get out of the car. However, there was a birthday party in progress and we were to go to dinner with my cousin and his family. It was nice to see them. Bed was a welcome retreat and it is a very comfortable bed. Sunday we went to church and then out to dinner with my Aunt & Uncle and my other cousin and his teenage boys and my other cousin's daughter. Nice kids and very entertaining.

I spent Sunday evening crocheting on Sarah's dress. It is taking shape.

Monday, today, we went to Juliette, Ga and had lunch at the Whistle Stop Cafe where they filmed Fried Green Tomatoes. I bought a copy of the movie. I always wanted a copy of it on DVD. It is one of my favorite movies and I'm looking forward to watching it again. I liked the tiny village lined along the street. The vendors are nice and not pushy and the food at the cafe was delicious. No, I did not eat barbecue ribs. I had fried chicken, collard greens, and white field peas with cornbread. I don't eat fried, green, tomatoes, southern girl though I am. I've never cared for them. I don't hate them, just don't find them appealing. However, I ate some here and actually, they're very good. They had a kind of chipotle sauce and the batter they cooked them in were both spicy and gave them more flavor. So, if they taste like the ones at the Whistle Stop, they're good. However, I can highly recommend the mixed berry cobbler a la mode. I could have eaten that right by itself.

It was very odd going into the cafe. I felt like I knew the place because I'd seen the movie and it is a favorite of mine. The sensation of deja vu was mild but present and not unpleasant. I'd like to come back when it is warm.

After we ate we strolled along the street and went into the half dozen shops. It was colder in some of the stores than it was outside. We went into Ruth and Idge's house and it was so warm. The lady there said she hated to be cold. So, take my advice, do this little jaunt on a nice spring day when everything is in bloom and green and warm.

Before we left we drove around the corner because one of the vendors said the big plantation house used in the movie is up for sale and we wanted to see it. I'm buying that when I meet that guy with the pots of money. Really.

We came home and I've been messing around on the computer while the aunt and uncle are at the funeral home visiting friends. I'll load the car soon and be ready to pull out tomorrow around 9 a.m. in the morning for Indiana.

I am off on Wednesday to recover from the drive and just relax a bit.

And that's a weekend vacation in the South for me. I need a whole bunch of them.



Thursday, February 14, 2013

A Mish Mash of Maundering Melodrama

There are days when I totally forget my goal to post something every day. I've been going to work like a slave, plopping my butt in the chair and staying there until a specific amount of work is done. It is paying off for the moment but I don't know how long I can keep it up. I'm exhausted by the time I get home. And I'm annoyed because it has interfered with every plan I've made.

The only positive to this is that if I can do what I'm planning, I will be better off than I've been in a year. So, say a prayer that I can finish the items I have slated to finish by the 28th. Better yet, pray for no interruptions for the next two weeks. No phone calls, no walk-ins, no coworker catastrophes, and no boss ineptitude.

A real negative it that I've done none of the "real" writing I had planned. I'm simply too drained. I either read or I crochet, both of which requires minimal movement and occupies the brain in a way that decompresses me. Seriously, crochet is a very calming skill. You don't even have to be making anything important. A single stitch, four large skeins of your favorite color and a hook and you're set... for days if you want. If you hate it, you unravel it and make something else. When you're done, you don't remember what bugged you and you have a beautiful, warm wrap for the cold winter evenings with your favorite book.

I used to do quite a lot of crochet when the boys were small but got away from it. When Jerry died and I was cleaning out the closets I found this huge basket of yarn and some unfinished stuff. I also found one of those large popcorn tins filled with thread. So, I dragged it all out and once I started I realized that grief could be managed if you're under the influence of crochet. And now I'm making things like sweaters and dresses and shrugs! LOL, Sarah has at least 10 shrugs of various colors. A dress is nearly finished. I've made a friend a throw, am working on a afghan for Sarah, and another throw for someone else. It works.

Digression end.

But, no novel work and that ticks me off.

I leave for Atlanta Saturday. It is a six hour drive for me. I will return on Tuesday and go back to work on Thursday. Wednesday is a day of rest. David will be here while I'm gone. So, the house will be occupied by a 224 lb male with hands that can twist the head off a bull should you be so stupid as to break in. I once saw him shoot a mouse hiding beneath a chair in a lamp-lit bedroom with a pellet gun from 15 feet away. I told him he couldn't do it. He hit is twice and killed it. With something the size of a BB! He hit it twice! Oh, get over it. The mouse was trespassing. But while he owns no other firearms, he does have some other lethal weapons... silent ones.

Just sayin'.

I hope to relax during this jaunt. I'm carrying my Kindle, my laptop, crochet and my writing calendar. I need to just do the things I enjoy without anyone demanding something. My aunt and uncle will respect that. I'll have company and privacy. And she's a really good cook. . . with a dishwasher. I'll even load it!

The steroid course I was on has ended. I have had about three weeks without much pain and a brain that is operating at near normal levels. This week the hip is bugging me again. Not much, just reminding me that it is biding it's time. My back is really bothering me but I think this is because I've spent nearly a week sitting all day. I get up to talk with a client, check the mail, send a fax, return or get a file. I am in the very back of my office building. I have the longest jaunt to the files and front door. So I do get some activity. Some days I hate that walk to the front and will make the trip a dozen times before noon. On the plus side, if someone comes in and goes postal, I have the quickest escape route. The back door is just outside my door or I can shatter the window and step out. My car just 50 feet away.

I have no idea where that came from but it is always in my mind. We deal with some potentially unstable folks. Doesn't everyone these days?

I hate Valentines Day. I'm glad it is over.

Monday is another "holiday". I hesitate to call President's Day a holiday. It is not a Holy Day. It more aptly called an "honor day". I like that much better. I save my Holy Days for things that are truly worthy of the title.

And now, I'm going to bed. I've no idea what to call this post and recently read somewhere that titling blog post was a wasted effort. But I like catchy titles and I usually come up with good ones. Well, I think they're good.




Saturday, February 9, 2013

Flight of the Week

I don't know where the week went. I've been so busy at work that I simply turned on the auto pilot and let the thing fly itself. We've landed, safely, at the weekend. I'm actually feeling physically better since they gave me the steroid. I have no idea what it has done to my blood sugar or triglycerides but I'm not thinking about it at the moment. It is nice to have practically no pain at all and feel as if I'm in my right mind for a change.

I've got plans. I work Monday and I'm off Tuesday. That will leave three days in the week to push through. They will be horrendous days of shoveling massive piles of files from one side of my desk, by way of entering the data into the computer, to the other side of my desk.

 On Monday night, the 11th, I have an Online Writers' Asylum meeting That's always fun. Agenda is sent out already.

On the 16th I'm driving down to Atlanta to visit my aunt and uncle. Monday, the 18th, is another holiday and I took Tuesday and Wednesday off. So, I'll stay until the 19th and come home on the 20th. I'm going alone. Dave will have Sarah that weekend and I'll miss that but he's got a friend who will be in town with her two little girls and they'll be doing things together. It will be good for both of them. And he needs to have time with Sarah to himself because he needs to know how to deal with it.

Then, I'll have Thursday and Friday to try and make up for the five days I didn't work. Just in case you didn't realize it, February is already a very short month, as months go, in regard to the kind of work I do. I have approximately 15 days in which to process what normally takes a full 30 day month. So, this will be a feat to rival the Augean Stables. Just so you know, I am not Hercules.

I've been messing around tonight trying to get my home network back online. I can do it one way but not the other. I mean, I can see and access files in my shared folder from the desktop but I can't do the same from the laptop. I think some settings still aren't right, despite the repair. As soon as I can sit down and make sure I'm backed up on the important stuff, I'm resetting everything to factory settings. I'd like to do it this week but if you read over the previous paragraphs you will realize that it is probably not going to happen. Then, I think I'll upgrade to Windows 7 while I still can.

On the 16th I was supposed to meet with a group of local NaNo writers who want to start meeting once a month. Then I realized I had this trip to Atlanta and so I've had to push that back to the last Saturday in February.

Compared to this past week, I suspect that the coming week will reach Mach speeds. Next flight is boarding now. Buckle up.




Friday, February 1, 2013

It Takes A Village


I love British mysteries. I cut my teeth on Agatha Christy and Dorthy L Sayers. For weeks now, I've been watching British mysteries on Netflix. I sit and crochet and watch for hours in the evening. I'm into about the seventh season of Midsomer Murders. It is just one of my favorites.

I don't know how the country of Britain is subdivided. I haven't been interested enough to look it up and assume it is similar to our divisions. In America we have states that have counties with towns and a county seat. Louisiana has parishes but it is six of one and half dozen of the other. Kentucky is a commonwealth but still has counties.

In Midsomer Murders the towns are usually different but they all appear to be in one sort of county, Midsomer, i.e. Midsomer Worthy I take to mean the town of Worthy in the county of Midsomer. If I'm wrong my loyal Brits readers will kindly correct me. But you get my drift.

While watching the show the other night I got to thinking. This Midsomer place is a veritable pit of sin and murder. I mean, every show is full of the most awful old bats and nosy neighbors, and vicious gossips. Every show has more than one murder. And the nicest people all seem to have these nasty vices or they seem totally naive about all of it.

So, I wondered... exactly what are those little English villages like? Seriously, they're small. All of the Midsomer villages are picturesque, cozy, and people seem so friendly on the surface and then, bam, someone is bashed over the head with a brick, or lamp, or candlestick. If they aren't bashed with something, they're blasted with a shotgun, of which there seems to be a awful lot of in Midsomer. Every one, including Granny has a shotgun. I know Britain has strict gun laws. I mean, even the DCI doesn't have a gun when he goes haring after the murderer. More than once I thought, "Stop, you fool! Get a gun before you go in there!" But no, he never does. And they never kill him! They don't even shoot him. Generally, they don't even hit him. He walks over and just snatches the gun away and that handsome chap that blindly follows him handcuffs the offender. All neat and tidy, despite the fact that this person just murdered half the town with an ax.

I always thought it would be nice to live in one of those villages. My friend, Jilly, moved to one last year. She seems very happy and so much more involved in the local events now. She's invited me to come for a visit and I've been really wanting to do that. But now I'm beginning to wonder. I've seen what goes on in these little hotbeds of vice.

I must ask her if Simon owns a shotgun.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Is Anyone Watching?

Today is a work holiday for me and I've spent all morning doing virtually nothing. I swept bathrooms, hallway and kitchen. I'll vacuum the rugs soon. I also cleaned toilets. But that's it.

No one noticed my efforts but Sarah, my 6 year old granddaughter. She's been with me for the weekend. She asked me why I was sweeping floors and cleaning the toilets. Sarah's a bit messy for a 6 year old so maybe she didn't understand the need... or health concerns.

I find it odd that she didn't notice the toilet was very dirty but she did notice last night that her dad left the sink dirty. I took a Clorox (c) wipe and quickly cleaned that up. She said, "You shouldn't be cleaning up after him." I just looked at her and thought carefully about my response. One side of my brain wanted to agree with her. Thankfully, the more intelligent side responded. "Well, he's paying rent and helps with other things. That's how people are supposed to do it. They work together." I know for a fact that this was a bone of contention before her parents' divorce in Sarah's home with her non-working Mom and working Dad. I've heard it more than once. Obviously, Sarah did, too.

Does anyone but me see the dirty toilet and sink? Did anyone but me notice the floors needed sweeping? Probably not since no one comes to my home but my family. My sons are blind to dirt. Really. Probably because they never saw it growing up. I was a stay at home mom for about 15 years. I noticed but the male contingent never saw a dirty house. Would I have noticed had it been someone else's home? Um... I'd have noticed that toilet, let me tell you, but it took me days before I noticed it last night. I think I would have noticed the sink, too. So, yes, I think, if a stranger had come to my home, they'd have noticed.

For me that's the problem. I'm overly sensitive to all this stuff. I see all the details of a messy house and it completely disrupts my ability to cope. I think everyone could see it. I know everyone would see it. So, it needs to be dealt with and disposed of quickly. Sometimes, though, I look past obvious things.

I didn't see what a six year old noticed. She didn't really see the dirt in the sink but she noticed a female household member cleaning up after a male household member. She immediately parroted a response with which I happen to disagree. It is a response based on twisted relationships. I have a problem with that kind of mentality. If there's a mess and you see it, you don't leave it for someone else, no matter who made the mess. Should people clean up their own mess? Yes. But in real life they often don't. I've had people clean up messes I made. If I see trash in the floor at my office, I simply bend down and pick it up. I didn't drop it. There are 12 other people there who could have but ignoring it won't make it go away. We work together. I am sure someone in that office has picked up my mess. In fact, I know it.

Is anyone watching? I think so. It is why I hate the house getting dirty. I'm tired a lot when I get home so cleaning lives up to the word "chore" for me. It is difficult for me to do more than 4 hours of housework. But I do it. Now there's two of us but actually, David is only mildly messy. His problem is in the follow up.

It is hard to live with someone else after years alone. I've talked to David about various things I'd like him to do, for himself and for me. He may or may not do them. I work to not get annoyed because the reality is, he hasn't got anywhere else to go. We discuss it and he tries a bit harder but he's not there yet. Surprising since he is pretty OCD and used to have the cleanest room in the house. What happened to him, I wonder? And then I listen to Sarah give orders to her father as if he were her servant rather than her parent. Where did she learn that behavior? What kind of relationship is it that demands all from one and none from the one demanding?

Sarah was playing with a couple dolls not too long ago and was heard to say, "My friends matter more and if you don't like it you can leave." Maybe when you become invisible, you don't notice the dirt.

I mean, is anyone really watching? Yes, they are.









A New Look

For the first time in a long time I like my blog's look! I've been messing with it ever since I left Multiply. I've had a blogger site long before I even went to Multiply and before that, Yahoo 360. I rarely did anything but use the theme that came with Blogger. This site was much harder back in 2005 to customize the background and overall appearance. I basically used this as a back up blog and spent all my time on Multiply. Over time, more and more, and just in time, it became easier. Now it is even easier than Multiply ever was to customize.

I actually changed it when Multiply first closed to look like my Multiply site. I think it made it easier for friends to adjust a bit. I changed the name shortly after that and have been trying to find something a bit more current.

In the past I have always used a full background but I've been looking for something that would reflect the name change. Do you know that photos of someone on a ledge are not common? And what I found was just not what I wanted to express. But this past week, during a Google I found exactly what I had in my mind. In fact, the creator could have been reading my thoughts. The photo is called Seeking Solace by James McKenzie and you will find a link on the right to his site at Deviant Art. When he gave me permission to use it I bout jumped for joy. And I don't get much of that lately. Please visit and check out his other work.

Thanks, James.




Thursday, January 17, 2013

Onto the Pier




The pier stretched out, into a turquoise sea that stretched to the end of the world and disappeared into a matching sky. I squinted in the glare from the the reflection of the sun on the water and sighed. For a moment I closed my eyes, allowing myself to soak up the warmth of sun on my skin. I opened my eyes and walked onto the pier.



My  bare feet made no sound but the wood planks were rough from years of weathering and walking and it pricked at my feet. It crossed my mind that a splinter check would be required on my return. The radiant heat of the planks began to sting my soles but I kept walking, my sandals dangling from my left hand. I could put them on but I welcomed the heat. I'd been cold a long time.  © 2013 Cynthia Maddox

When it comes, I have to write it... and I've not been writing in a while. This is the whisper I've been hearing this week.I have no idea what it is; I just like it. 

Where is this place? Why is she there? Where is she going? Where did she come from? What is she doing there? What is at the end of the pier? Who is she? 

Might want start a blog of this stuff. Seems easier to keep up with. 

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Purple Passions, Dark Days, & Frozen Time

The new year did not get off to an auspicious start. My mother died and I spent the second day of it on the road, the third day at a funeral, and the fourth day on the road. My weekend sucked. I went back to work on Monday to be greeted by two weeks backup. It has taken two weeks see any progress at all. We've had snow, cold, rain, warmth, rain, and more cold. Most days are gloomy, at least it seems so to me. Today is no exception.

I looked for some profoundly moving topic to write about or perhaps, hysterically amusing. I have neither. I have a rather boring life that doesn't require I do much but get up and cope with the most recent disasters, which usually entail my keeping a grip on my anger, frustration, annoyance, depression, or elation. I usually end up holding an empty bag. I suppose if you look closely I'm a bit manic at times.

I went back and read some old posts. Really old. Like 2006. I sounded so young. Life sounded much simpler in some way that I can't pin down. The foolish stuff I blogged about so trivial and foolish I wonder if anyone ever even read beyond the first paragraph and I almost hope they didn't.

Then, I read posts from 2009 and realized that my life can't ever be simple again. I can't jump back to the years before January 29, 2009 and instead choosing to live here, pick another city so things will turn out differently for all of us. That it will all have been a nightmare.

I absolutely despise the month of January. As my mother always said, "I hate it with a purple passion." January 11, last Friday, was my wedding anniversary. It was a painful day. And I know at the 29th grows closer every day will become heavier and darker. On that day, Jerry will have been gone four years. It seems as if it were only yesterday that I watched him die and had to bury him in the snow and ice. Some things are just frozen in time.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

New What?

Is it really a new year? Or did someone just wash and rinse this the old one and hang it out to dry? Seriously. I didn't even bother with profound or pithy post for the shifting year. No one seemed to notice. I could point folks back to an old one, written when my mind was working and life was actually better.

The truth is that I haven't noticed a different in 2012 and 2013 at this point. Admittedly, it is still early days yet. Today is only the 12th.

I have lunch today with an old friend... well, she isn't old, probably a bit younger than me but still it will be nice to sit and chat about nothing for a hour and get reacquainted with and old friend.

Earlier this week I signed up for Forward Motion Two Year Novel writing course. No, I don't know if I'll complete it or if this will be another unfinished work. But it won't be anything if I don't do it. So, I signed up. We'll see.

On the 29th I'm meeting with a group of NaNoWriMos who are interested in forming writing groups. Maybe the FM thing would be a good platform to do this on. A monthly check in to see how we're progressing? Not everyone will want to do it but I think a few are going to so we'll see.

Monday night I have my meeting with the Writers' Asylum Online. Always fun and this meeting is supposed to be about 10 people... we think. I have homework to do this weekend in in prep. I've been a little distracted and have not had time to really research like I wanted.

Now I'm going to wash my hair and get dressed.


Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Fading Flames

Mama, Aunt Phillis, Alice (my mother), and Daddy.
Mama and Daddy were my aunt and mother's parents.
I keep coming back to these old photos and studying them careful. This was taken the year I was born and what you see in this photo is what I always saw. Oh, there were terrible times and things I'd like to forget. Like everyone else, they did stupid things. They cried and got angry and depressed but if there are any good memories of my life, this photo reflects them. They always seemed to be laughing.

This image also reflects any gatherings of my family. We usually end up laughing at something and often it involves a story from the lives of one of these people or something one of us has done. We are a family of natural humorist. We are funny without trying to be funny. And we laugh most at ourselves.

This morning it occurred to me that this photo also depicts the three women who most profoundly affected my life and directed its  course. These women determined my outlook, my character and my goals. They made me most of who I am today, good and bad. I can't imagine what my life would have become without them. They gave me the strength to survive trials and turmoil and grief and continue laughing, even through tears. They gave me a desire to become more. I love them, each in a slightly different way but far more than any of them could guess.

Mama would say, "My Cindy can do anything." My aunt always says, "You are so smart." My mother always said, "I'm proud of you." I had no idea who they were talking about. I wanted to be like all of them to one degree or another. I wanted to love the way Mama loved. I wanted to be the kind of Godly women Mama and my aunt were. I wanted to be as beautiful as my mother, to have that presence that made heads turn when you enter a room. She drew people like moths to a flame. I always thought if I could have inherited the best qualities of these three women I could shake the world. I do not think I've ever approached that goal.

I can't say my mother and I were close. Her parents raised me but I still loved her, with bitterness and then, with resignation. I loved her humor, her laughter, and her singing. She had a beautiful voice and I loved riding in the car with her and listening to her and Mama sing gospel songs. They'd let us kids sing with them but those two voices were about as close to a heavenly choir that I've ever gotten. I loved her ability to go out job hunting at 8 and come back with a job at 10.

Put her in a crowded room with boring people and where she was standing would be a party. When she was a waitress her customers were the happiest in the room. It was not unusual for her to carry home $200 in tips for an evening's work and that was in the 70's. People just flocked to her and she reveled in that. When I was a little girl and she came home from time to time, I loved the moments when I was the focus of that dazzling smile and I felt the warmth of that flame. I was special for a little while and when she left, I always missed her.

Thursday I will see her one last time. The flame of my mother's life is extinguished. She's left me again.