10 Things

Today: ten quick little things that bring me joy...again in no particular order.

1. The smell of onions as they saute in butter.
2. The kiss of moisture in the air after a rain. (A treat in Arizona, let me tell you!)
3. The sound of giggling around the neighborhood. We live in the middle of a whole gaggle of little girls.
4. That first sip of good coffee in the morning: the way it smells, the warm cup in my hand...and of course, the caffeine!
5. Watching my silly puppy chasing lizards.
6. That time at the end of day when the trees are black silhouettes against a cobalt sky. Gorgeous.
7. A good review.
8. My Sweet Hubs, just going about his day (which is always full of projects): Confident, capable...yum.
9. When someone tells me, "You crack me up".
10. My kitchen garden: it's a never-ending showcase of life, growth, satisfaction and flavor. All we need to be happy.

There are so many more. Too many to list, so I may have to revisit this in a later post!

10 Things

Ten quick little things that drive me a little crazy, in no particular order:

1. People who take themselves too seriously.
2. People who send faxes upside-down. It's the era of e-fax, baby! Don't make me rotate.
3. People who write "would of" instead of "would have".
4. Spoiled. Spoiled dogs, spoiled children, spoiled milk. I dislike spoiled.
5. Extreme people. I don't care if they are extremely drunk, extremely hoochie, extremely churchy or extremely anything else. Find some balance, people! Even extremely nice is too much. If you don't have any bitchiness in you, it just isn't healthy. Embrace your snark.
6. People who park right in front of the store doors (in the DRIVING LANE) because they're "just running in". 
7. Blaming. Blaming your rotten childhood for your current unhappiness, blaming your inexperience for being stupid, blaming your age for being unwilling to learn, blaming everybody for everything and never blaming yourself for anything.
8. Litter bugs. Jerks who leave their campsite a disaster, or the dirty diaper in the parking lot or their trash blowing out of their disgustingly dirty car. Pick up after yourself.
9. Quit changing things! Blogger and ebay and almost every website I frequent keeps changing their sites. Stop it! I just had everything memorized. The changes to blogger suck, too. Boo on you, google. 
10. Squirrels. Creepy little stinkers. Eewwww.

Next time.... ten quick little things that bring me joy. 

No!

The headline reads, "Octomom's First Porn Shoot Had WHAT?"

I admit, I'm curious. But I refuse to click on that story on principle. I refuse to add my 'click' to the millions of hits that sad, sick, deranged woman generates.


But I'm still curious.


_______

The Shoes

Well, y'all had quite a few comments about my shoe collection in my post about what some future archaeologist would make of me when they dug up my house. Let me tell you a little story about shoes.

I was in the Famous Footwear in Mesa, Arizona, waaaay back in the clearance racks which is my favorite place to start. I'd found an adorable pair of copper metallic pumps and was trying them on. A very nice-looking woman, who was also trying on shoes, said "Oh, those are adorable! You SO need to get those."

"They're very comfortable, too. I'm not sure I can resist these." I said. I say that a lot and my closet proves that I mean it.

"My husband told me just the other day that I need to wear some prettier shoes, but I could never manage a heel like that." She said.

Being Miss Helpful Hannah, I said, "I saw a really adorable pair of floral flats over there, too." She was shopping in the same size I was.

A few minutes later, I saw her checking out. She bought another pair of square-toed, black, comfortable, practical, I-give-up, cloggy-looking mules...almost identical to the brown ones which were on her feet. Another pair of ugly ass shoes that might work for when you have to dig turnips out of the garden.

That pretty woman missed her husband's point. He was tired of seeing her in masculine, ugly, "comfortable" shoes. I hate to tell you this, sisters, but "comfortable" shoes are about as sexy as a bad case of monkey butt.

If wearing your pink crocs or your clean flip-flops means that you're dressed up for date night, you really need to rethink the meaning of shoes. If you think that your man doesn't notice shoes, then I challenge you to get a pair of rocking sexy stilettos and see if he fails to notice. He doesn't want to look at your clunky clogs. That is not the same thing as not noticing.

Before you jump my case about back problems and bunions, etc. etc., let's just define a feminine shoe. It should make your foot look dainty. It should be pretty, not clunky. It should accentuate the curve of your leg. It should never look more at home on a prison guard than on a hot babe like you. If a shoe makes you look like you can easily kick his ass into next week, it isn't doing you any favors.

If your shoes look exactly like the orthopedic dregs that my Grandma had to wear (and I am old enough to be a Grandma myself!), then they are too old and ugly for anyone who can still get up from a chair unaided.

You don't have to tippy toe around the mall in sky-high heels. Get a pair of cute, feminine flats. Instead of cheap rubber flip-flops, how about a pair of embellished sandals or a fun wedge?

But don't ever underestimate the pure, raw, estrogen power of a pair of great stilettos. They are truly a woman's show of her intimidating womanly strength. If you think men only think of them as the shoes of a sex kitten...You. Are. Mistaken. Try rocking a pair of serious black-patent pumps and see what happens. The right pair of heels can make you look as authoritative and sophisticated as you ARE.

If you're brave enough to wear a real show-stopping shoe, you'll be stunned at how many compliments you receive. People will seriously stop you in the grocery store. I know. It's happened to me. (In my case, it's a pair of red polka-dot pumps with a 5" heel.) Of course, you have to make sure the rest of your outfit is conservative if you want to pull off a cheetah print platform pump at the office. With a clean silhouette in a neutral palette on your upper half, you can wear a pretty damn wild shoe and look fabulous.






It's easier than you think, all you girls with practical shoes. Here are tips from a confessed shoe girl:

• No square toes. None. Always rounded, maybe pointed, but never never NEVER square! The square-toed, rounded instep, chunky low heel is the hallmark of an old lady shoe. No one is ever old enough to wear them.

• If they look anything like the shoes seen on people in the nursing home (nurses or residents, either one), pass them by.

• If they require socks, skip them.

• If they require no guts whatsoever to wear them, don't bother.

• Life is short, sisters. Wear cute shoes. Get more respect, more compliments and turn a few heads. If you husband has made a comment like, "Why don't you wear girl shoes?", you might also find that cute shoes will get you more cuddles and maybe some more sex! 

Thanks to Google images for all the pix.

Lately

I suck at being indecisive. If I can't figure out which thing is the right thing to do, it paralyzes me and leaves me feeling like Ziggy with a perpetual rain cloud standing directly over my head. I'm going to have to learn how to do what I can and leave the rest to God.

I can be quite reasonable when I talk to myself. I tell myself that I can't fix this, that it isn't my place, or that I won't know what to do until I have more information, or whatever. It sounds very convincing, but it doesn't change my urge to charge in like some cavalry soldier in stilettos.

So I sit idly by...not knowing what to do.

The Launch Pad

My mind is very much on our dear friends this morning. Last night. All day.

His time is at hand. The family has gathered and he sits, half-propped and covered with a light blanket, in a hospice facility in the city. Thank God for hospice.

I can't begin to imagine the endless well of compassion that hospice workers must have. Those kind people go to work every day and know that their whole day will be filled with people in pain, sad loved ones, hard decisions, tears, partings and death.

Death. They help people onto the launch pad, keep them as comfortable as possible, help them maintain the shadow of a shred of a memory of dignity that may be left to them (or at least put up a good semblance of dignity with smoke and mirrors) and they comfort the loved ones keeping vigil, who are often also in a different kind of trauma.

The hospice nurse last night said, "I think there's a bit of a journey ahead." That was a lovely way to say a very difficult thing. Bless her for her tact and sensitivity. Bless our sweet friends and their loved ones on this journey.

And thank God for hospice.

To SFs ISO LTR

I don't know if there is a pathology to this, but sometimes my hubs and I get a kick out of reading personals on Craigslist in different cities: places we've never been and are never likely to go.

Being the voyeuer astute observer that I am, I noticed some common things on those ads. OK. I am IN an LTR, I am not single, I hope to never be single again, I'm well into my middle years and I know that I don't have a dog in this fight. So I'll talk to you like you were my own darling daughter, of which I have none, and tell you what an old married woman sees in some of those personal ads.

• You describe yourself as an outdoorsy, active, tomboyish ball of fire, but you post a picture of yourself in schlumpy, holey yoga pants, sitting on a pink-flowered couch with a foo-foo doggie in your lap and pigtails in your hair. The picture is not working, dear.
• You say you're looking for a sensitive, intelligent man with a sense of humor. Then you don't bother to proofread your own post, use punctuation, attend to your spelling or complete a sentence. This is your chance to make your very first EVER impression on someone. You're screwing it up.
• You describe yourself as a BBW or as having great curves, but you post a picture of yourself in an oversized tee and sweatpants. If you have great curves, dress them, show them and be proud. Stand up straight and smile like you mean it. You are beautiful. Quit hiding in a football jerseys.
• You tell us you're looking for a serious relationship and are done with one night stands. Then you post a picture of yourself with your girls hanging out (probably hanging out with your girls, too, but that's not the point), in some dive bar with a margarita the size of a fish tank in one hand, a cigar in the other and a glazed look in your eyes. WTF?
• You describe yourself as fun, free-spririted, open-minded and lighthearted. Then you go on to say that your ideal match will be college-educated, at least 6 feet tall, no facial hair, dark hair preferred, must not have children or dogs, must be a vegan, must be a Democrat, must.... must.... must.....   Yeah, honey. You sound like a really open-minded ray of frickin' sunshine.

Maybe you could try posting a picture of you at your very best at this time in your life. In real clothes that actually fit, sober, smiling and without props. Don't let your toddler or your dog take the pix, get someone with some actual taste and discernment to help you. Leave your pet out of the picture, too. It looks like you're trying to use Fluffy as a cover. Don't wear your schlumpy frumpies and console yourself by saying you'll post a better picture when you lose ten pounds. Be your best NOW. Using your prom picture isn't fair if you're over 21; it's more like false advertising.

Tell them what you like, but leave all your dislikes for later in the conversation. It just sounds bitchy when you start a conversation with "I don't like this and I don't like that." When you describe what is important to you in a match, imagine yourself as the reader. How would you like it if a man described his perfect match by her cup size or the size of her ass? That road goes both directions, sisters. You're more than that number on the scale, and so is he.

Online dating is the wave of the future, I hear. OK. That doesn't really change the rules, though. Be nice. Smile. Mind your manners. Leave something to the imagination. Behave like the woman your momma raised you to be (or should have, anyway.) :D

And Happy Hunting!

The Dig

If Arizona were to have our own Mount Vesuvius tomorrow, what would some future archaeologist think when she dug up my house? 

I have been told that I have a redonkulous number of utensils.
Salt (in the red bowl), pepper mill, olive oil and chili-infused olive oil,
and a jar full of Bigelow teas.

I've heard some pretty far-out theories about what ancient objects did or symbolized. Once I heard a guy on PBS say that the comb they had unearthed, which was carved into a stylized bird, meant that the culture worshiped birds. Just because somebody smoothed her hair with a comb shaped like a bird? C'mon, now, really!

An Arizona Coues' Whitetail deer skull.

A favorite wine.

Just for fun, today, imagine you are that future scientist. What would you surmise about the people who lived with these artifacts? These are all pictures of my actual home, or web pictures of something that is in my home. Comments about the disorder of my pantry are not required. Believe me, I NOTICED it.


Tell me what the daily life of those people might be like, or pick one object and tell me what significance it had for the owner. For extra credit, make up some completely different use for one or more of the objects.

No pots on my pot shelf. A light that runs along behind
the (naturally shed) elk antlers makes this look really cool at night.

Bols genever (gin) bottles. They look just like my Auntie and Uncle.

Half my collection of condiments, seasonings, vinegars, dressings, etc. etc.

A memento from our honeymoon.
Tigger looks pretty good for nearly 30.
He's hardly aged a day.

No picture of my house would be complete with the object of
my burning passion...my Kitchenaid. Love my Kitchenaid.
A second crock full of utensils. I may have a problem. You might see
me on the special utensil-addict edition of Hoarders?

My shoes. I admit it: they go all the way back under the hanging
things on both sides. Girl's gotta have shoes.

My dresser. Look close: jewelry boxes, old photographs.
A basket of bracelets and one of assorted junk. Wedding photo,
photo album and a Sunday Missal. Plus a flashlight. And dust.

Where it all happens. The games, the dinners, the writing,
family "discussions". I love the triangle design of the table,
but the designers put grooves in the damn thing. I spend my
life sweeping crumbs out of those stupid grooves.

On the wall in my bedroom. The crucifix
on the left is a family heirloom, supposedly
of Civil War vintage. The one on the right
belonged my Dad. Spiders in my house
can often be found building their homes
right there with Jesus.

Don't YOU have an elephant under your potted plants?

An antique wagon with dog toys in it.
And an assortment of computer cables.

Two of the six pantry shelves. They all look as messy as this. :-(

I can't explain.

Our little coffee station.

Why does she lay like this? Oh, I know....because it cracks me up!

Have fun! I can't wait to read your comments!

Katharina Gerlach

Today I'd like to introduce you to a prolific writer and cheerful soul, Cat:
Katharina Gerlach is the author of something like ten books (more in the works), numerous short stories and poems... in other words, I want to be Cat when I grow up. Which will be tricky--she's markedly younger than I am.

Since my blog focuses mainly on getting your happy on, Cat generously offered some of her secrets to keeping a happy heart while she pounds her forehead against the keyboard in typical author's angst. Or wait, maybe that was me with the bloody forehead and the bad attitude? Maybe I better read her post twice.

Now that I've read the post twice, I think Cat has more than great advice here. She has a list of tips that apply to more than just writing. Planning, balance, purpose... they're all things that we need in the whole of our lives. She does a fantastic job of applying those key attributes to a writer's task.

In any case, you will find Cat at http://www.katharinagerlach.com/. Please check out her work today. She's a ray of literary sunshine. She makes me want to get my hands on the home row again and enjoy the process as much as I enjoy the result.

How I stay happy while writing
It’s not easy to write thousands of words without losing the drive a
little on the way. Being an author involves long, solitary hours followed by the hustle and bustle of a new release. To survive all this, it helps to find out what works for you as a writer and what doesn’t. Only then will you be happy with what you’re doing. This is what I do:

1. Plan what you need
As we all know, writing is the first, and often hardest step to
publication. It’s so easy to stare at the empty page of a new document with countless exciting ideas, and not a single word appears on the snowy white surface. Often, this is due to an overflow of ideas. Try to line up which parts of the idea are most useful for the beginning, the middle, the end. If you’re a pantster (someone writing without a plan), at least try to get to know your characters a bit before you write. Talk to them (although people will think you’re crazy if you do it in public) and delve a little into their past. If you’re a planner, don’t plan more than you absolutely need. If you plan too much, you might lose the joy of writing.

2. Find the balance
What? You don’t know if you’re pantster or plotter? Try both and see what works best for you. It all lies in the balance. I hated plotting for the longest time, now I couldn’t do without a solid outline. Still, I never do more than write one short sentence for each scene. I list the characters, indicate the POV, and add a few words on the scene’s purpose. That way, I have a red line to keep me moving through my first draft.

3. Don’t bind yourself too tightly
An outline is just a help. If my story takes a different direction, I stop and rethink my outline. Maybe, the new direction is more interesting, gets my characters deeper into trouble, or illuminates the novel’s theme better. In that case, I revise the outline. For me, nothing is chiseled in stone when it comes to writing.

4. Slow and regular
If you write 500 words a day (and you can do that in less than an hour), 5 days a week, you will finish one novel every year and still have time to spare on revising the monster.

5. Remember why you’re doing this
Put a banner with your favorite saying or a positive thought over your PC or on your desktop, something that cheers you up. Examples: My daughter/son/husband/boyfriend/mother wants to read this by Christmas; it’s her/his favorite present.
Or
I can change everything during revision but I can’t revise without a first draft.
Or
Every day spent without writing is a lost day.

6. Don’t forget to live
While writing is wonderful and can suck up whole days, there is more to life than that. I’ve got a garden and a motorbike, a husband and children, and even the household needs me from time to time (I discovered it doesn’t tidy itself, how inconvenient). Meet people offline and online, and do something where your body starts moving. Sitting in front of a PC for too long can be dangerous to your health (that said, I’d better go for a walk with the dog. It’s already begging again).

These are the rules I use to keep me going, and I’m an extremely happy person. Is it despite my writing or because of it? I haven’t got the slightest idea. Why don’t you try the tips I shared and let me know how they work for you?

Thanks for reading,
Cat

And thank YOU, Cat, for being my guest today! I love your tips, and I agree with each of them. My favorite one is #2: Find the Balance. Balance is my favorite word!

Happy writing, and I'll see you in the blogsphere!

Trish

Interview!

(blushing shyly)

I've been interviewed. As an author! By a bona fide professional writer and AUTHOR!! Which is somehow more flattering than being interviewed by a five-year-old. Oh, it was very cool. It ranks right up there with guacamole, bacon and white merlot. It was also very fun and occasionally serious.
The Sarcasm Goddess did the interview and you'll find it on her blog 4theluvofwriting. Please go over there and visit. She asked me one of the most challenging questions of my life. It's one I'll be pondering for the rest of my years, probably, and I doubt I'll ever know if I made the right choice. (And I hope I never find out!)


Go check it out!

The Visitor

It's been a long time since I had a child in my house. I had a visit from a five year old girl yesterday. My mind went tumbling back to when my own children were small.

Tiny hands
Crumbs on the floor
An endless stream of happy chatter, bouncing from one subject to another
Simple declarations: I like that because it's shiny, I don't like her (The evil queen from Snow White), That looks pretty, She's a good puppy. The world is black and white for a child; shades of gray don't appear until later.
Funny faces: can you touch your nose with your tongue? I can't, but she can.

We don't have television, which baffled her. I don't know anything about Dora or Elmo's World. Well, I didn't before. She didn't know about Nutella on a cracker, but now she does. I'm sure her Mommy will thank me for that later, right? She hadn't seen a magnifying glass before. She doesn't understand why my fingernails don't wash off when I do the dishes.

"Your children are big grown up men? But where are your children?"
"They grew up, honey. Just like I did, and just like you will."

"My brother was a fat baby."
"Were you a fat baby?"
"NO." (giggle giggle giggle)
"I was a fat baby. I was so fat my big sister could hardly reach her arms around me."
(she almost falls off the chair laughing at that) "But you're not fat now."
"I guess I grew into my fat."
(that got a belly laugh)

"Can I have an orange?"
"Of course you may." A small child eating an orange makes exactly the same sound as a cow pulling its foot out of the mud and is nearly as messy... but a whole world cuter.

"Where are your children?"
"I think they went to the gym."
"Maybe you should have more children, since yours are all grown up."
"I'll have to talk to my husband about that. You may have an idea there." And now it's my turn to almost fall off the chair, laughing.


******

An Indie Author

Smashwords is hosting "Read an Ebook Week" starting tomorrow. It's an opportunity for readers to get discounted or free ebooks in pretty much any genre they like. Both of my books will be there for free.

I published both of my books first with Smashwords and then added Amazon. I did a lot of research before I made that decision, and I am so pleased with the choice I made. Smashwords has been great to work with, and unless something changes, they will continue to be my first choice. I decided to go the self-published ebook route because:

1. I have stories to tell.
2. After long thought, I decided I don't have time or desire to try to woo a big, traditional press. I have a demanding day job and an intense dislike for cameras. The day may come when I'll feel differently, but for today the ebook is the way to go for me.
3. I have complete control of my work. Every word, every idea, the cover, the price and the coupons are all my own. Any typos you find are also mine. 
4. I have stories to tell. That's really it. 

As a reader of ebooks, especially self-published ones like mine, there are things you can do to make that e library a better one.

1. Forget outdated ideas about "vanity presses". There are a large number of authors out there who were successful with mainstream publishing and are now self-publishing. They have manuscripts that were rejected because they didn't fit the needs of the publisher, not because they aren't great books. Authors get to keep complete control of their work with self-publishing, and you get to see the story THEY want to tell. 
2. Leave reviews. Please! Give us stars and your honest opinions. If you got the book for free, please understand that the author is working on getting their book noticed. If you accept the book for free, the polite thing to do is to at least give it star rating before you move on to the next book. Your ratings push good books higher in the search ranks and let them be found easier, plus they encourage us to keep writing. Negative reviews are important, too. I have seen some ebooks that were atrocious. Dreadful spelling and horrid grammar DO need to be pointed out. Always play nice, though. Even a bad review shouldn't contain any profanity or personal attacks.
3. Talk about the books you like. If you are a member of Goodreads, LibraryThing, Shelfari or some other social book site, talk. Tell your friends and co-workers. The biggest encouragement you can give to an author whose work you like is positive feedback and book sales.

Happy reading, everyone, and I'll see you at "Read an Ebook Week"!

They're so Supportive!

Just for kicks and giggles today, I'm going to post some of my favorite NOT-main characters from some of my favorite books, in no particular order.

• "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn", Betty Smith- Aunt Sissy. I love Aunt Sissy. She's the one everyone calls "a bad girl", but she has a heart of gold that's overflowing with love. Of course, she's called a bad girl because she is pretty free and open with that love. That doesn't matter to me. I admire her down-to-earth good sense and practical logic. She also has one of the best lines in the book. She and Katie are talking about a woman's special appearance for her husband at those romantic times.... Sissy says, "At night, all cats are gray." How true. How very true.
• "Lonesome Dove", Larry McMurtry - Deets. (spoiler alert!) What Call carves on his grave marker says it all. "Cheerful in all weathers. Never shirked a task.". Those are two of my favorite qualities in any person. That those qualities belonged to a man who had learned how to be happy in his own life, as disenchanting as that life may be? I love that.
• "To Kill a Mockingbird", Harper Lee - Calpurnia. That strong and capable woman is the rock of the Finch family. She is The One who was brave enough to go knock on the Radley's door when there was a mad dog coming. She is the one who brought security, manners, penmanship and good cooking to the Finch house. We all need a Calpurnia in our lives, don't we?
• "Chesapeake", James Michener - Rosalind Steed. Fair Rosalind. I think Rosalind Steed is one of the great female charachters of all time. Rosalind Steed is a plain-looking woman whose unprepossessing shell contains a wealth of love, intelligence, passion, compassion, courage, wisdom.... she loves her stepchildren deeply, she fights the pirates, she fights the sexist, unjust city judicial system. She is tenacious. She also does what may be the most difficult thing of all: she knows when to let go. Rosalind Steed is an object lesson for all women, IMHO. She reminds us that our capacity for love is in no way linked to our culture's assessment of beauty. She reminds us that you have to stand up for what's right. She reminds us that a true measure of a human being is their grace under disappointment and courage under fire.
• "Clan of the Cave Bear", Jean Auel - Brun. Brun is the leader of the clan that picks up this orphaned girl. If ever there was guy who had a cuckoo egg tipped into his sparrow's nest, it's Brun. He has to face more unheard-of situations because of this one skinny, flat-faced girl than all of his ancestors combined ever had. Bless his heart for not throwing her out into the snow right at the beginning. This is a guy who has his own home life disrupted on several levels because of Ayla. She's an anomoly. She's a pain in the ass, even if she doesn't mean to be. She is a complete outsider in his very closed world, and still, he does not cast her out. He learns to apply a new insight to this young woman and grows to respect her. This is a guy who probably had the closest thing there is to a real reason to be racist, but instead, he opened his mind.
• "Hawaii", James Michener - Malama. OK, she's more of main character than some of the others, but she's still secondary to Abner and Jerusha Hale in the character ranks. Malama is quite a woman, I think. Can you imagine being the alii nui of a village, with a culture that has been thriving for eons, suddenly faced with a whole new kind of person? What do you do when someone comes along bringing a new god, a new world order, new medicine, new ideas and new condemnations? Malama could have kicked them off the island or even had them killed. She had many reasons to not like them. They smelled terrible, for one thing. Our white American missionaries were a pretty smelly lot and quite offensively dirty to the Hawaiians, you know. Abner Hale was a pompous ass who wanted to tell Malama how wrong she was and how right he was. She looked past all that, and looked for the true meaning of the message he brought. She looked at that not only from a religious point of view, but also what all these new stinky whites were going to mean for the future of her people. She was one smart woman.
• "Gone With the Wind", Margaret Mitchell - Carreen. Poor Carreen. She really got the short shrift. Her big sisters are both selfish and bossy. The love of her life is killed in the war. Her heart is broken irreperably. Through it all, she tries to stay cheerful, works when she feels sick and tries to keep the peace between her two older sisters. Let's be honest now, girls. Would YOU want Scarlett O'Hara as your big sister? Not me. I love to cheer for Scarlett's spunk, but I'd sure hate to be in any way at her mercy! I think sweet Carreen is a dear heart and I so wish that she would have fallen in love with Will Benteen. Of course, the rest of the story would have had to be different if that had happened and I certainly couldn't dare to try to tell Ms. Mitchell to change her story for the likes of me. I just wanted so much for sweet Carreen to be happy.

Those supporting characters in books (and in films) are always so important, but no one ever seems to talk much about them. Without them the depth of the story would fail. One of the best examples I can think of is in Lonesome Dove, both the book and the miniseries. We get a clear view into Call's heart for a moment, when he carves that marker for Deets. We get to see a man who is deeply affected by the loss of his friend. His actions show that, in spite of all the many deaths he as seen in his life, this death HURTS. The words he carves on the marker show us the qualities in that friend that made him so cherished by Call. His steadiness, his alacrity. Deets is gone in the scene, but Call's reaction to losing him shows us a whole new side of Call.

I've always said that you can tell a lot about a person by the friends they choose. You can tell a lot about a character by the supporting cast, and you can tell a lot about the author by qualities they choose to give those characters.

Margaret Mitchell wrote a character who was so tender and sweet, and whose heart was so badly broken, that she wanted to simply retreat from the world. She wanted to take herself away from all the pain and drama of life and never fall in love again. She was a good Catholic girl who could never consider suicide. So she did the next thing to it (in those days). I wonder if Margaret Mitchell didn't maybe, just maybe, feel that same way herself once.

I Just Don't Know

• Why do I point to things on my computer screen when I'm talking to a client (or tech support) on the phone?
• Why can't I get that smell out of the garbage disposal? (What ISSSS that???)
• Why did I buy a box of grits? No one in my house likes grits.
• Why do I keep eating things that I know are going to hurt me later?
• Why don't I go to bed earlier when I know I have a tough time getting out of bed in the morning?

Over a Year Later

It's finally out! Watch for it at your favorite online bookseller.

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/134858

Ten Things I Didn't Learn In Kindergarten

I am a kindergarten reject. Yes I am. That was 1969 when the mean lady put a pin to my educational balloon. Even 43 years later, I am still coping with the effects of being a K-ject. It's been a lifelong struggle.

• I'm lactose intolerant. This is due, I am sure, to the fact that I did not get to have that extra year of a mid-day half-pint of milk. From Sinton's Dairy outside of Colorado Springs. Whole milk, too, because I am a child of the sixties.
• I don't nap well. I never learned how.
• I am not good at cutting straight lines with scissors. Ask any client who ever got an auto ID card from me. It's going to be a wavy mess.
• Having someone looking over my shoulder drives me batty. I attribute this to missing the whole kindergarten model of teachers and aides helping students at their tables. My first grade teacher (Hi, Mrs Vest!) stood at the front of the class. If you had a question on your work, you went to her at her desk, not the other way around. I have only lately come to suspect that may have been because Mrs. Vest was at least 70 years old, and not because of her lofty expectations for first graders.
• I never really learned the whole group dynamic thing. I can work on a team, but I always do best when left alone.
• I don't really share very well. Your turn, my turn? Not so much. If you want my crayons, you may have them. I'll just go get some others.
• Neither do I borrow. Do not like to borrow.
• I think I missed something important by never having been exposed to much children's literature. My only experience with Dr. Seuss was the annual tv broadcast of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas". The first time I read one of his books was when I read them to my own children. Sweet Hubs tells me about Ramona the Pest and other characters, but I've no idea. I also don't know about the Star-Bellied Sneeches. I knew about Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Hobbit... and a wonderful poem called "Pigs is Pigs" but I completely missed out on Dr. Seuss and Curious George. The problem is, I missed it, so I don't know what exactly it is that I missed. What did I miss?
• The kindergarten in our school had group potty breaks. The whole class lined up and went to the restrooms. First-graders went individually, carrying a garishly painted hall pass made out of a 2X6 and about the size of your Dell keyboard. I still do not have the herd mentality where restrooms are concerned. I notice other ladies often go to the powder room in a group. I'm still the maverick.
• I missed out on a lot of crafty things by being a K-ject. I don't have very many turkeys made from the outline of my hand, salt-dough Christmas ornaments and construction paper necklaces in my repertoire. The first school project I recall was a Native American inspired thing. We took a piece of heavy brown kraft paper, scrunched it, wadded it and flattened it out repeatedly until it looked nothing at all like a deer hide. Then we painted symbols on it that were supposed to tell our life story. At six or seven years old, we didn't have much to work with for that part. Anyway, it was intended to represent the tradition of pictographs and painted lodge covers. Mostly what I got from it was that I was living a mighty sheltered life and would have to go off to war and count coup or something, before I had anything to paint on my paper hide. My teacher said I was being too literal. It's a trait that troubles me still.

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Snapshot

It appears that Chloe has settled in.
Or else my puppysitter is doing a very poor job.

A Negative Review

I knew it would happen. Anyone who does anything subjective is going to have to face it, sooner or later. The Negative Review.

The kind lady who did not like my book didn't lambaste me. She isn't a hater. She just didn't like my story. I was bracing for this day. Ever since I hit "publish" on my first blog post four years ago, I've been expecting someone to tell me that it's all drivel. Then I put a complete work of fiction out there. A novel that came out of my own head, through my fingertips and onto your ereader. It's been out for over a year now, so I've been waiting with bated breath for that first "don't quit your day job" comment.

I want my readers to devour the story. I want them to laugh and cry, and smile through their tears, just like Dolly Parton's favorite emotion. (Name that movie). I want them to nod their head in recognition at the characters and let their coffee get cold because they're too wrapped up to sip.

It was not to be for one kind reader. She was very nice about it. Apparently, she didn't hate it so much that she wanted to burn me in effigy and then chuck her Kindle into the fire for good measure. She didn't say that I need to get my sorry ass back to kindergarten and start over. That would have been especially hurtful, since (you may recall) I was rejected for kindergarten. It would awful to discover, at this late date, that sharing and napping are not the only things I missed. Maybe that's one reason why this didn't hurt the way I expected it to. I thought I would really struggle with my first negative review (which I knew would show up someday). It didn't work out that way.

Maybe it was how mildly bad the review was. It was a very classy bash with no expletives at all. Maybe it was the realization that unless I get feedback on BOTH what really evoked something in a reader and what left you yawning, I won't know what you're thinking. It could also be I realize that if a shopper only sees good reviews, it starts looking like the only reviews are coming from friends. (As much as I loved the reviews my friends wrote, the ones from strangers sure made me swoon.) Maybe it's because there are a lot of kinds of books I don't like, too.

Or maybe..... I'm growing up.

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Horse Feathers

Benjamin Franklin is attributed with saying, "Only believe half of what you see and none of what you hear." I don't know that that means he is the first person to say it, but he's getting the credit.

Here are a few things I don't believe:

• Those diet ads. Some young, gorgeous hardbody with muscle tone and a tan, telling me that only 6 weeks ago she looked like a pasty-faced buffalo heifer with cottage-cheese-thighs. They're telling me that if I drink their concoction every morning, noon and night, I won't look like a middle-aged, mother of two, desk jockey with little-to-no natural suntan? Bull puckey.
• The picture that goes along with "How to get a swimsuit body by summer". Some smiling person, no sweat shining on their brow, in a perfectly clean home and wearing SOOO fashionable workout gear....exercising on some device that looks like medieval contraption to turn a breach baby around.. C'mon, now. Really? Who smiles when they're working out? 
• Politicians. Any of 'em.
• About 90% of the recipes. Mix one can of cream of mushroom soup with one can of Underwoods Deviled Chicken and you'll get Chicken Tetrazzini. What ARE you smoking?
• Celebrities + Judges + Juries = The Muppet Show. Who do they thing they're kidding, here? If Lindsay Lohan lived in Phoenix, Sheriff Joe would have her living in a tent by now, for sure. I don't even want to think about what would have happened to Charlie Sheen by now. He'd be the belle of the ball. Ewww. 
• Jeans that promise to slim, trim, lift, sculpt, shape and not be like my daughter's. If you can lift, sculpt and trim me, you can't be made of mere denim. 
• Shampoos that promise to give me thick, shiny tresses with no split ends. Well f*ck me running. Nothing is going to make that happen. Mother Nature gave me extremely fine, puny, flyaway hair. I've learned to live with it. Really, John Frieda, maybe you could apply your chemistry to fighting off pollen, instead. 
• Name your price insurance. This one really just ticks me off. You can name your price with almost any insurance company. That is NOT the same thing as getting a policy that fits your needs. Name your price, my hind foot. Name your price, and get succinct directions to the door. 
• Find your friends. Find your classmates. Find the police records of your ex-boyfriend. Find the love of your life, your new house, your lucky numbers and the answer to your dreams. Only cost you $9.99 a minute, too.
• The estimated MPG on a car. 30 in the city, 45 on the highway. Yeah, maybe if it's a straight highway running down hill the whole way.
• "Less fat" on almost anything. All that means is "less fat than we could have squeezed in here, but the same amount as it's always had."
• Filtered dog water. We bought a drinker for our new Chloe. Couldn't find one that didn't have a built-in filter to make the water "taste better". The first chance she got, she drank out of a mud puddle. She really cares about better tasting water.
• And the biggest bunch of hooey of all? "What are you doing in there, son?" ........"Nuthin'."

Comments always welcome!

Puppy Breath

We have a new member of the family. Her name is Chloe, and even though she joined us less than 24 hours ago, I'm already in love. How not? Look at that face!

I have written about having a puppy urge for a while now, but the time was finally right. I started scouring the humane society websites, and rescue organizations and classified ads, too. Then I started to get worried.

You see, we decided (after many long discussions) that the right dog for us would be another Australian Cattle Dog. That's what our wonderful, OCD, willful, barfy blue shedding machine is, and she is a terrific dog. Don't be fooled by all the bitching I do about her; she's a great dog and I love her. I started lurking around the Cattle Dog rescue sites. It was pretty scary.

After reading the "About Us" pages on most of those rescue organization's sites, and reading their applications for adoption, I started to get a bad feeling. They asked some of the most intrusive questions. OK, I get it. These folks put a lot of love and effort and heartache into helping animals that have been badly mistreated, neglected, abused or discarded. They don't want all that effort to go for naught and wind up placing the dog with a fate as bad as the one they saved it from. I get that. I understand why they want to know if I've ever surrendered an animal before and why. I understand why they want to know what behaviors I would find so unacceptable that I would give up on the dog. I get it.

Why do you need to know what I do for a living, my household's gross annual income, or if I live in a site-built home or a mobile home? Asking if I live in an apartment: I can almost see that, depending on the dog. But if I lived in a mobile home, how would that make me unsuitable? How is that your business, anyway? If you're trying to find out if I can afford to care for a dog, then ask me. You don't need to fish about for a financial statement.

The bad feeling increased when I read an article by Emily Yoffe about how she was rejected by an animal rescue place, and then I went on to read the comments. Oh my stars! Something is way off track here, folks. It looks a lot like a tax-sheltered, legal way of hoarding dogs and rejecting people. The article points out that some rescue organizations don't adopt animals out. They are more on a hopefully-permanent foster plan, and the organization will inspect at will, reclaiming the dog if they so choose.

I was thinking very seriously about giving up on adopting a rescue dog and looking instead for a puppy from a breeder or just a family whose pet had a litter. I looked at a lot of breeder sites. We still felt like it would be better to get a rescue dog if we could. Since I'm not one to give up too easily, I kept watching and reading, looking for the right place for us.

I saw a very promising dog on one listing and emailed the organization. After several days with no reply, I called the foster person. She told me that the dog had been adopted out right after Christmas, and they just never did seem to get her taken off the site. Now I was wondering if I was looking over lists of dogs who weren't available, anyway.

And then. Then I found Noah's Ark Rescue. I read their adoption application. Every question was about reasonable fact-finding, not intrusive anima-naziism. I looked at the pictures of the adoptable dogs. I kept checking. I noticed that dogs were added and removed from the listing regularly enough that someone was actually attending to their web pages. Then four days ago, I saw Chloe. She was listed as a four-month-old Australian Cattle Dog (aka ACD, Queensland Heeler, Blue Heeler, Cattle Dog). I think she has some Australian Shepherd, too, since you don't see the blue eye or a blue merle coat in a Heeler. She was the right age, has a great look of intelligent interest in her striking eyes and she is the breed we were looking for. Deep breath: I emailed the person on the listing.

She replied right away. We exchanged a few emails over the next two days and the Sweet Hubs and I were approved as adoptive parents to a young bundle of furry joy. We met her yesterday, fell in love immediately and took her home. The kind woman with Noah's Ark Rescue was very helpful and friendly. It is clear to me that they haven't lost sight of their mission. They are more interested in finding suitable, loving, forever homes for the rescued pets than in over-zealously staying in control of every aspect of the animal's lives ad infinitum.

Chloe is a darling girl. Ruthie approves of her, too. I feel so incredibly lucky that we are the ones who got to bring her home. She is out helping the Sweet Hubs get the garden ready for spring right now. True to her breed(s), she is every bit the Velcro dog. She sticks like glue to either one of us. She got to see and smell her first javelina, and knew right away that he was not someone to fool with. She bristled and barked and stuck close to her people. She is also nonplussed by Chihuahuas. Smart dog.

She has a lot to learn in life. That's what being a puppy means. She comes when you call her, though, and is learning to sit. She takes a treat oh-so-nicely. She is already learning the family whistle that means, "Look at that!". And she learned that she does not get a good result when she tries to take the ball from the old OCD ACD. Ruthie isn't about to put up with that. She also has a good start on "Give", dropping her chew-toy into my hand when I ask for it. I start that one quickly with a puppy because I like my shoes. :D

Please do visit a humane society or a rescue if you are looking for a new member of your family. Don't be scared by the horror stories; just do your homework. If you live in Arizona, I HIGHLY recommend Noah's Ark Rescue.

(With my apologies for being so INactive on last week's linkup. I've been sick. :-(  Waaa waaa waaa.)