Monthly Archives: January 2013

Good Reads


“Live your life so that fear of death can never enter your heart. When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the morning light.  Give thanks for your life and strength.  Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.  And if perchance you see no reason for giving thanks, rest assured the fault is in yourself.”  Chief Tecumseh, Shawnee Indian Chief

Great quote given to me by a friend this week.  The last line is the kicker.  How many times are we so blanketed in our problems that we refuse, or simply can’t, see the wonders of our lives?  The fault is in ourselves – love it.

Tidbits from the week:

My computer is down.  The one I write on, the one that has all of my stories saved on it, and I feel like I’ve lost my right arm.  I’ve been assured that all is well, my books are backed up and saved, and will soon be back home with me.  Until then, I’m hobbling around feeling like I’ve lost my best friend.

Instead of writing, I’ve been reading like crazy.  Here are a few of the books I’ve finished:

Slammed, Point of Retreat, and Hopeless – All three of these books are by Colleen Hoover.  The first two are in print, the third an e-book.  They were fast paced and interesting.  Good reads. The characters are young (18-21) but I found myself forgetting that as they struggled through pretty intense sagas.  I’ve also just read The Witness by Nora Roberts and Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire.  Loved them both.

What I’m most excited about is my next book – Pat Benatar’s autobiography.  I got the book for Christmas and can’t wait to read it.  She just turned 60, and I heard her sing not too long ago – she’s still awesome.  Love is a battlefield, don’t ya know?  I’ll let you know how the book is once I finish.  Until then, enjoy the last week of January and keep your heart focused on the joy of living.

100 Years Old


When I am 100 hundred years old, I will look like this…


Today was the 100th day of school, and the students made self portraits of themselves at 100 years old.  After much direction and added angst to my day and stress level, these are some of the beauts they created.  Love them!


I hope I look as good as this at age 100.


Loving the eyebrows and grin on this one.


This one looks like a glamour shot photo.  She’s gorgeous!

Happy 100th Day of School.




Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn’t stop for anybody.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Doesn’t change suck?  Or does it?  I used to hate it…literally hate it.  My parents divorced when I was young, we moved a lot, and I developed a hatred for change early.  I hoarded that hatred through each move, each meeting of new friends, each tiny speck of different.

And then life decided that I needed a change whether I was a willing participant or not.  It literally picked me up by my feet and shook until all that was left were the roots of me, of who I am.  Not much was spared but what was left behind became even more precious. 

Something amazing happened in the process…I lost my fear of change.  I don’t necessarily crave it but I’m no longer afraid of an unknown future.  There’s still a yearn to control things around me but even that urge has lessened.  I am not in control.  Period.  And I’m okay with that.

It’s strange to crave change these days.  I have dreams…dreams of traveling more, of living in different places.  Writing, exploring, smelling different smells, stretching to see what’s just beyond my reach – things I yearn to do that would entail change.  It’s exciting to dream, to wonder, to imagine.  It’s exciting to not be worried about the unknown.  Yes, change happens, but life has taught me well that it doesn’t mean it’s the end…perhaps it’s only the beginning.

Missing You, Maggie


Finally…it finally happened.  The holidays are behind us, and I cynically say thank goodness.  Our routine is settling back into a steady rhythm, and at last, I finally found my way back to the computer this past weekend.  And nothing has ever felt so good as to sit down and reconnect with my long, lost friend…my stories.

Maggie was there, and Charles and Duncan, and Mrs. McGreevy…oh, how I missed them!  I’m sure that’s a problem only obsessed writers have – missing characters. These ‘people’ inhabit my mind, some days more pronounced than others.  It was wonderful to work on their story again.  And maybe, just maybe, I may have finally figured out how I’m going to end this book.  Maybe.

The hard part was going back to work today.  I had to separate myself from my story, put it away for another day, and focus on a different part of my life.  Even though my first career has been fulfilling, I can’t help but dream about the day when I can write full-time.  My life, Part 2.

I’m paddling my way through what I need and must do to develop my writing.  To ever be able to write for more than enjoyment, I have to conquer my fear of  unveiling my work to others.  Conquering fears…Maggie is doing the same.

Mrs. McGreevy spoke, “Ye both are similar creatures.  Pretty little things, needing love and assurance, but you’re so much stronger than Prudy ever was.  You have a mighty strong backbone and she, well, she was crippled by fear most of her life.  She feared what people would do to her if they ever found out about her secrets.”

“Feared,” Maggie dared asked, leery of stopping her words.

“Fear of being locked up in a hospital somewhere, fear of being thought of as crazy or even worse, as some witch or the like.  She feared a right many things and no talking or soothing would ever ease her fears.  And it wasn’t for lack of trying.  We tried over and over to soothe her to no use.”

“That is very sad.”

“It was indeed.”  Crooked fingers raised to rub weary eyes before locking onto Maggie.  “I’ll tell you this much, missus.  She dreamed, she saw things when she was awake, and no matter how long in between the sights, they always returned.  Most were worrisome to her, like her seeming to know Constance would live a very short life, but not all were difficult.  There were times when she smiled at her dreams, and there’d be months and months when she’d be free from it all.  I’ll tell you what I told her….there’s no fear to be had in your dreams.  Take them for what they are…no more, no less.  If some figure who looks like your Mister Charles but calls himself Hank speaks to you now and then, then say hello back.  What’s there to worry for?  It’ll all be just dreams, that’s all.”

Grinning, Maggie reached out to pat her arm, “Thank you for that, for your words.  I’ll cherish them and keep them to myself.  I’ll tell no one if that’s your wish.”

“I only tell ya so you’ll not let your own fears hold you back.  Never let them cripple you as Prudy did.”