Sunday Afternoon

I sit in my office, which is really a converted spare bedroom in the house, staring out the window.

The snow sparkled this morning, but after a day of brilliant blue sky and warm sun rays, it is now a solid, secure white blanket that covers the world. The sparkles are gone.

That same sun must be awfully warm where it shines, because I see water drip-drip-dripping from the tips of the big blue spruce. The tree limbs are mottled with the white of the snow and the darkness of the evergreen beneath. It is lovely.

Yet the air is frigid, and I can feel it trying to seep through the windows. The sun is a deceptive villain, making it look like it should be warm and sultry. The moon, now, this morning she was warning me of the cold when I looked out to see her shining brightly above the mountain. She did a slow waltz toward the horizon before disappearing behind my beloved Blue Ridge Mountains. I can always count on the moon.

The snow in the front yard has been greatly disturbed by an animal that ventured through in the night. It left furrows, not tracks, and dug great areas of snow away in search of the earth. I thought it must have been a red fox or a possum - but a close inspection reveals deer tracks in the areas not furrowed. The furrows puzzle me greatly and I wonder if the animal is wounded. But would a wounded animal have dug out such great mounds of snow?

It is a day for thinking, contemplating, and wondering. A quiet day.

Snow of January 30, 2010

Another snow-dump has left about 11 inches of snow on the ground.

Books: S is for Silence

S is for Silence
by Sue Grafton
Copyright 2005
Audiobook (Abridged)
Read by Judy Kaye

This book was a little different from Grafton's other Kinsey Milhone books in that it switched backwards in time to offer vignettes of the life of some of the characters who may have been involved in the disappearance of Violet. Violet in 1953 was a headstrong and winsome woman who vanished. Thirty years later, her daughter, Daisy, hires Kinsey to find out what happened to her mother.

Kinsey sorts through a long list of suspects to find the answers to Daisy's question. Along the way she encounters a dangerous man who will stop at nothing to hide his secret.

Since I listened to this over a rather long period of time, and because of the book's format, I recommend reading this one instead of hearing it. Occasionally I forgot where I was in the story; whether that was from time lapse or the book's abridgement I cannot say.

The book offered a strong story line, although it felt like a lot of Kinsey was missing in the book. I learned very little about her character here. Still, it was a solid performance from the author.

Thursday Thirteen

Today, I give you headlines from the print edition of my local daily newspaper. Some of the links I include go to other stories about the same topic, mostly because I am too lazy to look for the exact one that ran in the print edition. Incidentally, the fact that I can't easily find the same stories at their website drives me nuts sometimes.

1. Body Found at Roanoke Co. landfill & M. H. likely died quickly. These are two stories about recent murders in the area. The step-father of a two-year-old in Roanoke first reported that the child had been kidnapped; police later arrested him and charged him with felony child neglect and then began looking for a body. They found a body in the local landfill yesterday. The other story is about Morgan Harrington, a young girl who went missing in several months ago after attending a concert in Charlottesville. Both stories are sickening. Shouldn't a society supposedly as advanced as that in the United States be able to better deal with things like drugs and poverty, which I feel contributed to the first incident, and possibly the second? Why are we merely reactive? Why do we hesitate to spend money to be proactive? Why not try things, even if it might not work the first time? If it saves somebody's life, is it not worth it?

2. In Poland, survivors mark Auschwitz anniversary. One of the great atrocities of the 20th century. A sidebar offers up comments from Iran's supreme leader, which essentially says Israel will be destroyed. History should be remembered and recalled, lest we forget, and do it all over again.

3. John and Elizabeth Edwards have separated, friends say. You know what? I don't care. Since when did personal lives become such fodder? Why is this news? Let these people alone. He was stupid and made a mistake and she, bless her heart, has cancer. Give it a rest.

4. Parent wants last word on use of school dictionaries. From L.A. comes this story about banning the dictionary. My initial inclination is to wonder where these folks come from, these uptight, self-righteous censors who won't be happy until the whole world walks around looking and thinking exactly like they do. I despise censorship. The story I have linked to is an update to the one in the local paper; the school has decided to keep the dictionaries but parents can "opt out" of having their child use it for a resource. Good call.

5. McDonnel laments growing debt. Our new Virginia governor, fresh out of the gate, gives the Republican rebuttal to President Obama's state of the union speech. The "bipartisan" efforts touted during campaigning flew hard and fast out the proverbial window, which surprises no one, myself included. (I couldn't find the same story anywhere online, even when I searched for the first line of the story. What's up with that?)

6. Bastion of history. John Kern, regional director of the Virginia Department of Historic Resources, is retiring. I know John. He is a good man, and a great advocate for history in all of its aspects. I worked with him in the late 1990s when I was president of one of the local historical societies. I found him to be quite knowledgeable and very earnest in his efforts to save the things that many people just tear down. This is a good piece of journalism about the locality. Too bad the newspaper doesn't do more of it.

7. Person dies in blaze at duplex apartment. The poor fellow's dog died, too. Botetourt County's fire services are operated by volunteers. I am not saying if that is good or bad, I am just stating a fact. While the help is volunteer, the county pays for most of the equipment, so tax dollars are involved. And paid fire services lose people, too. Localities of all natures are keen to cut back on these types of services when the tax dollars start dwindling. People forget that big fires once roared through entire blocks of cities. They forget that the Town of Fincastle lost blocks to blazes. Again I must ask, what is life worth?

8. Lawmakers turn up the heat on Appalachian. I don't understand this. We are a Republican-run state and our Republican leaders pledge their souls to the "free market" system. Well, here's the free market. Either you pay the electric bill or you freeze. It's like health care. Either you pay for your heart medicine or you die. That's what free market is. You can't have it both ways, boys. If you regulate APCO, aren't you doing that socialism thing you are so afraid of? And yes, I want regulation on utilities (my last bill was $350 and I dread to see what the next one is). I want health care. I don't see a little socialism as a bad thing - and apparently, neither do these lawmakers.

9. Budget plan may threaten public safety. The Virginia General Assembly is looking at cutting sheriff's budgets. Locally, Botetourt County could lose at least 13 positions its sheriff's office if the funding cuts go through. That is not in the story; that's just something I know.

10. Blue Ridge Parkway may add 50,000 acres. Congress is looking to keep the scenic highway scenic. This might not be a bad investment of tax dollars. I think we need to keep some land pristine and not use it up.

11. IPad: Apple introduces its latest creation. I own a little iPod but that's it. I love gadgets, would probably love this, likely won't buy it. I wish I could afford a Blackberry and a Raspberry and an iTouch and all of those cool things, but I live in the real world where my electric bills costs me $350 and I have to pay for my eyeglasses.

12. New home sales tumble sharply in December. This is probably bad news. Maybe it was the snow and the cold weather, or the holidays, but the economy doesn't seem to be picking up quickly, if at all. I hear talk of "signs" but honestly, I don't see them. I see gas and food prices rising, I see people out of work, but I don't see signs of an improving economy. You guys up there in Washington and on Wall Street happy yet? Have you finished creating your Great Divide between rich and poor, or are you still not done?

13. Gemini: Take the initiative and deal with any pressing matters immediately. If someone is not pulling his or her weight, you may want to intervene. Be determined and strong about what you want to see happen. 3 stars = you will reach your goal.


Lots of people play Thursday Thirteen. Learn more about it and see other participants here. You can see my other Thursday Thirteens here. This is entry number 124!

Framed

In early January, I realized my arms weren't going to grow longer and I needed to go the eye doctor.

For some time I have been moving books, newspapers and other items up and back in an effort to focus. Squinting, too, had become common.

Time for new glasses, and this time I was sure I would need reading glasses.

The eye doctor (I can't spell opthamalogist (?)) confirmed my suspicions. An eyeglass shop is located conveniently in the eye doctor's office, so I headed there.

The optician suggested progressive lenses.

Progressive lenses incorporate a long-distance vision, a medium vision, and a reading vision in the lenses, and do this without a line. Bifocals, on the other hand, have the long distance vision all around but have an insert for the reading part.

Progressive lenses also utilize "channels" so that the vision to the side of the lens can be blurry.

When I first put these new lenses on, I thought I had fallen underwater. Between the increase in strength and the change in the lenses, I was sure I would stumble and fall.

I have fought with these things for the last two weeks, hoping to adjust to this new vision. I have improved with them - the underwater feeling is gone, but when I am out in a large space, like in Walmart, things seem wavy. I don't notice the same effect looking outside, though, so it is something on that level of distance and horizon.

Reading with a book in my lap or at the kitchen table or desk (as opposed to the computer, which for some reason has been fine from day one) has only now become something I am somewhat comfortable with. Even so, I feel I need a pair of just reading spectacles if I am going to read for a prolonged period.

The optical shop will take these back and provide me with the old-style bifocals if I determine I can't use these. I don't hate these glasses but I am not enamored with them. I like the frames; they are titanium and very lightweight. My last pair was a little heavy and I kept an ache near my nose. That has vanished with the lighter frames.

Being able to see has always been incredibly important, probably because I did not get glasses until the 7th grade even though I needed them sooner. I always sat at the front of the class so I could see the blackboard. I remember the day my father took me to pick up my glasses. The mountains had trees! I could see the license plate on the vehicle in front of us. Things were sharp and detailed, not fuzzy and blurred. The world opened up.

A very long time ago, I wrote a poem about being able to see. Moments ago, thinking of this poem, I flipped through an old file in search of it. Apparently I wrote it in a class at Hollins. A note from a professor or a reader is with the poem. He/She didn't like the ending at all. The note says, "you've established some big overtones... I was not pleased, fulfilled but disappointed, & indeed annoyed, let down, by the conclusion." Yikes. And here I am sharing it.

You can tell me what you think if you want. It needs work, but I also find it wryly amusing. Even if the reader above didn't like the ending.

Mirage

Mornings after I bathe my body
with sweet Arabian soap,
dry my skin with linty towel,
cover my nakedness with pants, shirt, and burlap tie,
I stand before my mirror.

The radio speaks in foreign tongue
of sweltering suns and star-filled
nights, then plays a sonata of desert moon.
The room behind me shimmers
in blurred horizontals
as the sun slips through the sheers.

My reflection tells of tossed sheets,
midnight murmurs,
making love in veils of silk.
My eyes are dry, windblown sands,
smothered with heavy canvas tents.

From the little oasis
on my dresser's corner,
I pull out my vision,
open the tent flaps,
pop in the plastic.

You Can Do It

I started reading when I was four years old, according to my mother. I remember proving to a young uncle that I could read by challenging him to bring home something from school that I had never seen before because he said I wasn't reading, I was simply memorizing and repeating. He obliged by providing me with "Green Eggs and Ham," which I had never heard of and which I proceeded to read to him. He was wrong. I could do it.

Once I learned to write, which was prior to kindergarten, I was on my way to what would be my world. That would be a place of language, thoughts, and ideas. A place in the head, as it were, and on paper.

My teachers encouraged me. "You will be a writer," each said, from the second grade on. I didn't know what that meant but it sounded good, and like something they admired.

As I grew older, though, this ambition became something of a hindrance. Teachers encouraged me in other areas. "Go to college," they advised. "Be a teacher, a professor, a scientist."

My mother, in particular, was not keen on my being a writer. "You better take secretarial courses so you can support yourself," she warned. "You can't make a living off of words."

I should have studied to be a journalist from the outset, but circumstances kept me from that. Instead, I set out to prove them wrong in other ways. In 1985, when I was 22, I finally found my stride with newspaper writing. My first published piece outlined an apple-butter making event at a church in Eagle Rock. "Making Shiloh Apple Butter" came out on a fall day and I picked up the paper at Mike's Market in Daleville. I danced around the parking lot while I waited on my mother to pull in for her daily stop for milk and bread as she drove home from work. I practically shoved the paper up her nose in my enthusiasm to show her the piece.

"See, I can do it!" I said.

In the newspaper archives, one can see that after that first article, I began writing one feature a week. I was employed elsewhere and attending Hollins College, but I found time to interview and write these articles.

My byline has been in The Fincastle Herald for 25 years.

I kept writing newspaper articles and occasionally published a poem or a short story. At Hollins, certain professors encouraged me to write, to spread my wings, to grow in new directions.

In 1993, I decided to try to freelance full time. This was not a financial decision or even a smart one, really. But I have never regretted it.

I proved the naysayers wrong. While I may not have earned significant sums of money, it was enough. I have been happy with my life and with my life's work, and what else matters?

And now we come to it. The stars changed, and again I hear the voices saying, "You can't do it." Part of me even believes this, for I have heard it for so long.

But another part of me says, you will prove them wrong. And that's the part I want to listen to, the whisper that sends shivers down my spine.

For writing is like breathing; it is something I do as naturally as I blink my eyes or lip my lips. I write my thoughts here in this blog, on pages that never see the light of day, and in articles that are meant for the eyes of all. I write my life and I write about the lives of others, using the appropriate turn of phrase, the right touch of empathy, or the slant that brings tears.

Not everything I write is golden; I have been at this long enough to know about 80 percent of it is like compost. It's the food and fodder for the better words, the higher sentence structure and the greater good. Editing until the words glow like neon on the mountain takes time, thought and attention.

Even as I write blog posts, jotted down in the software's editing program, I go back, reread, make a change here or there. I know these words are not pristine, but I also don't mean for them to be. Sometimes the rough edginess is necessary, when the goal is to let loose the dream.

Writing allows me to connect, to teach, to share and to learn. Words give me insight into others and opens up possibilities. I may sputter and choke when I try to speak, but give me pencil and paper and a little time and what comes out will provide you with the answers to the questions asked of me.

Some days, writing seems as distant as the farthest mountain. It moves like a shadow in the mist of my mind and my weak grasp sends the words slipping like a landslide on the other side of a great divide that I cannot cross.

Other days, it is a hug enveloping me, coddling me, loving me and giving me warmth and friendship that goes so deep that my eyes well with tears. Some days, writing is a miracle.

To the naysayers, I say, "A pox on you." My work is not yet done.

Roanoke Regional Writers Conference

The Roanoke Regional Writer's Conference, held Saturday at Hollins University, offered a choice of 26 different 45 minute seminars. Of course, many were held at the same time, so you had to pick.

This was the third such event in as many years, and I have attended all of them. I go for networking purposes, to see who I can see and, frankly, to be seen. To remind folks I still exist, if nothing else.

I think a beginning writer, someone who hasn't published much or who hasn't read at least 100 books on writing, as I have, would find this event quite valuable. I think it is certainly worth the $50 it cost to attend.

However, I learned new information in only one of the seven seminars I attended. (I could have attended eight, but chose to sit out one hour in order to spend time getting to know a new friend. Relationships are always worth it to me and I felt like that was as beneficial as anything offered, and definitely worth my time.)

My favorite parts had nothing to do with the classes I attended, which are summarized below. Instead, it had to do with spending time with people, old friends and new. I enjoyed seeing my former professor, Jeanne Larsen, in particular, because she has always supported me and believed in me and I greatly admire her work.

I was also pleased to see Bonnie Cranmer, a fellow former Hollins Horizon student whom I have known for years, Becky Mushko, Mildred Sandridge and Beth Rossi, who are fellow members of the Roanoke Pen Women, and Michelle Shimchock, who was my student in my October class on freelancing. Others I knew I saw in passing and I was glad to see them, too, even if I hardly had more than a chance to say "hello" as we dodged one another in the hall.

Social Media

Unfortunately, the social media seminar I attended was a bust - I was looking for something more. I was hoping for information about how to use social media and make it work for you but that was not forthcoming, at least not in that talk. There were other seminars on social media scheduled but after that one I dismissed the whole idea of learning anything about that topic.

My notes from the class include this: "It's lonely in Twitter when you have no friends," a line spoken by one of the conference attendee. I have a twitter account with few friends so I could relate, but I don't work this social media so I am
not surprised.

The remaining notes consist of, "create a sense of community and an intimacy" and a few websites. The speaker was so busily hyping the virtues of Twitter that she sped by the other stuff so quickly that these few websites were all I wrote down: ePinions.com, ehow.com, tumbler, problogger.net, copyblogger.com. I know what a few of them are but will have to look up the others. She had other websites in her presentation but damned if I could write fast enough to get them down.

Also, blog posts should only be about 300 words. As you can see, I don't pay attention to this at all in this particular blog.

Writing NonFiction (or what was this again?)

The second seminar, entitled "Opening Pandora's Box: Reliving a Painful Past to Write a Helpful Book for Others," also left me scratching my head. While the presentation was interesting, I wondered what the title actually had to do with the information presented. The speaker was the author of Stand By Her, a book for men who are affected by women who have breast cancer. He spoke mostly about his journey as he wrote the book and what he learned about how to write a nonfiction book.

These are my notes:

Get the idea.
Have a strong drive and passion/strong vision.
Create a platform for credibility.
What do you want to say?
Write a book proposal. Remember it is a business.
Write a chapter by chapter outline.
Create and analysis of the market - who will buy the book?
Write a sample chapter.
Find your voice.
"It's not a simple journey."
Write a bio.

As you can see, while this is a nice summary of the nonfiction writing process, it doesn't have much to do with going back into your past to write something that will help others. Oh well. I guess the seminar was poorly named. I think it would have been better to have called it, "How I wrote my book."

Self Publishing

Next up was a panel discussion on self-publishing. I arrived a little late and missed hearing the first two speakers. Becky Mushko, over at Peevish Pen, was one of the panel members. She has self-published a number of books. Becky is very informed
about the publishing process and I have a lot of respect for her opinion. At least one of the other speakers, a professor from W&L, appeared to disagree with every word she spoke.

Becky and a few others touted the virtues of Infinity Publishing, a print-on-demand publisher with whom she has good experiences. Other names bandied about included ex libris and authorhouse. Websites to look at include authorsguild.com and scbwi.org.

The cost of printing a book raised eyebrows. My friend Michelle dropped me a note during the discussion asking me, "Are they all rich?" after hearing numbers ranging from $499 to $7,000 for printing costs. I wrote back, "They believe," meaning that these folks believed enough in their work to find the money to front the book. But they might also be rich, too, I don't know.

Self publishing is, if anything, a lot of work. Not only the work of writing the piece but also marketing it. However, other folks noted elsewhere during the event that any book published is going to require extensive marketing on the part of the
author. Book publishers are demanding that the authors do more of this work. "It ain't like it used to be," which turned out to be the unofficial theme of this event, was a battle cry.

Overcoming Writers Block

The next seminar was. "When the Muses flee: How Writers Woo Inspiration Back When They Hit Writers Block." I think my subheadline above is a lot shorter! Anyway, I enjoyed the speaker, Mary Hill, who was very interesting and entertaining.

Apparently the biggest obstacle for writers is fear of stinking. To overcome this, "Accept that you stink," and move on. Next problem? No good ideas. Overcome this by letting the come. She offered many nice suggestions for this, including foundmagazine.com, postsecret.com, and stumbleupon.com, along with living your life, walking in nature, reading, and creating a memory map.

She mentioned the memory map but didn't go into detail as to what that actually was. Does anyone know? I think I know but would be interested in hearing others' thoughts on this.

Anyway, she also suggested "trying the ridiculous", googling the words "writing prompt" and similar things. She also said to get a notebook and write stuff down because otherwise you forget. I have notebooks strewn everywhere with stuff I can hardly read in them; I suppose it is time to start another one.

She also mentioned loneliness as a reason for not writing, and I found that interesting because I don't recall hearing it before. She suggested a writing buddy or a writing group, even a writing coach,to help with this problem.

I also have the word "biorhythm" written in my notes; as in, write when you are at your best.

The Law

Freelance Writing and the Law was an excellent seminar. Dave Cohan, a lawyer with Gentry Locke (where I once worked, by the way, in another life), gave a great presentation on copyright and the legalities of writing.

I always need to hear someone tell me that I could lose the farm and get kicked in my donkey butt if I libel someone, so this was a good reminder. He also gave a very thick handout with his PowerPoint presentation on it, for which I was grateful. I really like handouts.

The most important things a writer needs to remember about copyright: the stuff you write is yours until you sell it or give it away. Read your contracts. Have a contract. I can't tell you how much stuff I have written without any kind of contract (most everything, actually). Take steps to protect yourself.

Beyond Blogging

This was, hands down, the best seminar of the day for me. Maryke Barber, a librarian at Hollins, offer up "Free and Fabulous Online Tools." She actually demonstrated these things, and I and everyone else in the class sat with our jaws open. She also gave a hand-out, yay!

She offered an excellent presentation on RSS and readers, such as Google Reader, and listed several options for readers if you aren't a Google fan. For the first time, I realized how useful this thing could be if you learn to use it.

She talked about finditva.com, which any Virginia library user can access. I was the only person in the class who knew it existed (I use it a lot). It is a database of journals, many with full-text articles. Very good for research. Since I am on my county library board, she received many bonus brownie points from me for this mention.

Next she talked about "social bookmarking," which allows you to access and share favored websites. This is delicious.com, diigo.com, digg.com, and others. I have heard of these before but didn't realize what they did. Again, marvelously useful stuff.

What really wowed me was "bibliographic management software." I sat with mouth agape, thinking of all the papers I'd had to footnote when I was in college, as she demonstrated how this add-on for Firefox would save your links and then create footnotes in your MS Word documents. What a time saver. Not only that, for the first time I understood the allure of Firefox. I have Firefox and use it for a few things but it dawned on me the add-ons, which Internet Explorer doesn't allow, are what makes that a superior browser. Lesson learned.

I thought she could not top herself but then she went on to introduce us to "wikis." She showed us how to create a website using Wiki software. Once again, my mouth hung open. Actually, I think I might have drooled during this part.

The websites to check out include wiki.zoho.com, www.pbworks.com, www.wikispaces.com, and www.wetpaint.com. I haven't had a chance to look into any of this yet but you can bet I will.

Don't Bother Freelancing

The last event was a panel discussion. I was dismayed by the message, which seemed to be, "Don't bother freelancing if you want to do it as a career, it can't be done anymore." There was lots of talk about the lack of pay, the loss of jobs, the way the media has changed, the loss of print media. The message I came away with was "Be Entrepreneurial," as that is the only way to have any modicum of success, and "The old way is dead." I was left with the strong impression that I should find another career if I want to eat. I would be interested if others took that panel session the same way or if I was the only one who heard it like that.

After about an hour of that, I had heard all I could stomach, and I left. By then it was 5:30 p.m. and I was tired, anyway.

And that was the writer's conference, as I experienced it. And yes, I would go back again, even if this sounds a little negative. The good outweighed the bad.

Thursday Thirteen

Today, I present to you, in no particular order, my favorite actresses ... and the roles that I remember them in. I am partial to fantasy shows so the list is heavy in that genre; also, I really don't watch that much TV which is why some of these are pretty dated.

1. Sharon Gless as Christine Cagney on Cagney and Lacey. I did not see Cagney and Lacey much when the series ran-couldn't get the channel - but I watched it all in reruns. I love the show and wish more than Season 1 would come out on DVD.

2. Lindsey Wagner as Jamie Summers on The Bionic Woman. Lindsey played a strong yet sensitive character in this show. She was someone who stood up for the little guy and true rights and wrongs.

3. Kate Mulgrew as Captain Janeway on Star Trek: Voyager. As the first female captain of a starship, I simply had to like this character. She was tough and no-nonsense.

4. Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am currently watching this entire series while I exercise in the mornings. I originally only saw up to season 3 when the show first aired, thanks to the change to UPN from the WB (or vice versa, whichever it was). I have seen the other seasons in reruns and/or read about them, but I won't be sure until I finish this viewing that I have seen every single episode.

5. Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman. She had an invisible jet and a magic lasso! What more could a girl possibly want?

6. Kate Jackson as Sabrina on Charlie's Angels. She also played Amanda on The Scarecrow and Mrs. King, played on Dark Shadows (one of my favorite soap operas when I was young) and on The Rookies. I suppose if there is an actress whose career I have followed, Jackson is the one. I thought she was the best angel and quit watching the show when she left.

7. Lucy Lawless as Xena in Xena: Warrior Princess. She kicked butt while taking on the God of War and other deities. Not to mention cleaning up all the bad guys in town.


8. Kim Zimmerman as Reva Shane on the Guiding Light. Aside from Dark Shadows, which went off the air in the 1970s, I think, the Guiding Light was the only soap opera I ever spent time watching. I stopped watching it with regularity at least 15 years ago but I occasionally caught an episode. I always enjoyed Zimmerman's portrayal as the "bad girl" Reva.

9. Catherine Bell as "Mac" on JAG. I enjoyed watching her but I hated that she always played second fiddle to the male lawyers. Oddly, I have not liked Catherine Bell in any other show I have seen her in.

10. Jennifer Love Hewitt as Melinda in Ghost Whisperer. Even though this show has badly "jumped the shark" and I no longer make a point of watching it, the early seasons gave us a feisty character who would "do what it takes" to get her message across.

11. Candace Bergen as Murphy in Murphy Brown. She was a news person who knew how to do the news. I liked the character (well, after they made her a mommy I didn't like her as much) and enjoyed Bergen's portrayal of her.

12. Phylicia Rashad as Claire Huxtable on The Cosby Show. This was a mom who really did bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, take care of the kids, and keep her husband in line.

13. Dixie Carter as Julia Sugarbaker on Designing Women. This sitcom cracked me up; I'm pretty sure I know some southern ladies just like the ones on that show. Carter's character always seemed realistic and the actress played her well.


Lots of people play Thursday Thirteen. Learn more about it and see other participants here. You can see my other Thursday Thirteens here. This is entry number 123!

Just Away

I wish I could say I haven't been posting a lot because I'm in the middle of writing my book, but it would be untrue.

Work calls me, but it is not my own. I am editing a novel for someone else. I have been writing "keyword articles" for a marketing company and working on a few stories for the local paper. Writerly stuff, but like water. No hot chocolate brewing in this brain, alas.

My own inspiration lies as flat and dormant as the grass that we can finally see again, now that the snow has melted. Even coming up with topics for blog posts seems daunting, because I can't think of anything exciting or interesting to say. I feel as boring as the naked oak trees.

Perhaps it is the calm, the deep breathe before the turning of the world. Just another moment, and the tide will change, brown alfalfa will turn to green sprouts, the oaks will dress up in their leafy finery.

And inspiration will seep back into my soul just like the melting snows have replenished the streams, making them full and bubbling again.

Around New Year's, the full blue moon.



The blue moon.




Sun and fog.



Sun and snow.



Sun, snow, fog.

Thursday Thirteen

Today, I offer up a few peeves, in no particular order.

1. The new Windows 7 operating system apparently reverts back to some kind of a DOS check occasionally on start-up. It takes the computer several minutes to run a chkdsk command. It never finds anything wrong.

2. My Brita filter in my Brita pitcher has little black specs of carbon or charcoal or something. All the time, every filter. According to the literature on the box, this is "normal." And of course because some corporation says so, we all believe it, right?

3. Snow on the ground for four weeks. Okay, I'm ready to see some grass! Preferably green.

4. Junk mail. I still get an awful lot of it and this year at Christmas it seemed worse than it had been in years. I apparently got on some mailing list after spending years trying to get off of them all.

5. Leaking windows. Our windows, which were installed in 1987, let air in now. During some of the really cold days this month I thought I would freeze.

6. Books that aren't as good as promised.

7. Movies that are worse than I ever expected. (Pretty much anything with Adam Sandler fits this bill.)

8. Pillows that go flat within a month of use. What is up with this, anyway? I pay $30 and up for a name-brand hypo-allergenic support pillow and in 30 days the thing looks like it's been run over by a fleet of trucks. Where's the neck support?

9. Chatty checkout clerks who feel it is their duty to comment on your purchase, the color of your checks, the kind of coupons you use, etc. Mostly I don't mind but sometimes it rubs me the wrong way. I try to remember that pushing items across a little beam of light all day (not to mention hearing that "beep beep" for eight hours) cannot be that exciting.

10. My husband's chewing tobacco. If he only knew how much I loathe that stuff! Or maybe he knows but doesn't care - Lord knows I've complained about it enough. At any rate, I hate it. That big cup of spit sitting around the house. Dribble on his shirt. Flecks of tobacco all over my car. Yuck.

11. Emotional reactions to social and economic issues that instead require actual thinking. I see a lot of this going on, not only from the man in the street but the people who are supposed to be making changes for the better. It scares me.

12. Telemarketing phone calls. Thanks to the federal "do not call" list there are fewer of these interruptions, but I still get them. Other countries don't have this problem. Why? Because they are "opt in" and not "opt out." That means that people can't just up and call you unless you've given them permission to. And would you give permission to the banks, the politicos, etc., to call you whenever they feel like it? I didn't think so.

13. No decaffeinated Irish Breakfast Tea at my local supermarkets. I frequent three and none carry it. It is my favorite and it is extremely hard to find in the Roanoke area.

Lots of people play Thursday Thirteen. Learn more about it and see other participants here. You can see my other Thursday Thirteens here. This is my 122 entry!

The Promotional Ceremony

Today was the day of the promotional ceremony for Roanoke Fire-EMS. My husband, named a Battalion Chief in December, received a gold badge.



Members of Medic 1 came to watch.



Chief Hoback and the minister.



Chief Hoback shakes hands with my husband as he presents him with his new badge.




The new battalion chiefs, Terry King and James Firebaugh, my husband.




A picture of all of the men who received promotions.



The husband and his proud wife.

What are YOU looking at?

Thursday Thirteen

Daydreaming about the upcoming year and the next 11 months ... some things that might happen?

1. That book will get written. So far it's off to a slow start, what with not having a clue, but I think this will be the year.

2. We'll put replacement windows in the house. Maybe. If we can afford it.

3. A number of pounds will fall off my frame. This would be good for my blood pressure, my self-esteem, etc.

4. New clothes will fill my closet. This, of course, would be in conjunction with #3.

5. I'll read 45 books. This is a lower number than usual - I usually read 55 or more annually - but given that I am not sure I should be reading a lot of books when I am trying to write one, I have dropped the number.

6. I'll do counted cross-stitch. I picked up this little hobby many years ago and dropped it, but in November I started doing it again. I did three little hicky-doos and then stopped but hopefully will do some more hicky-doos in the near future, that being once my wrist is better.

7. Exercising will be something I long to do instead of look at, eyes crossed, and go, hmm.

8. A long hike up to McAfee Knob. This won't happen unless I lose weight and get in shape, because it is a good walk and I am not capable of it at this time. I have never been up there. It is close and I sure would like to get there before I die.

9. My husband and I will take a cruise. This likely won't happen but I would like for it to. I have never been on a cruise. I also am not sure where the money would come from, though.

10. In lieu of said cruise, we'll go on a vacation. Hopefully someplace different. Maybe we could go to Florida. Or drive out to see the Grand Canyon. He's never seen that and I haven't seen it since I was 12. I would love to see it again.

11. A visit to the Greenbrier. I still want to go see the bunker. Maybe this will be the year.

12. We'll buy more cows. The herd has been thinned as the cows have aged, so it's time for a few more brood cows.

13. The sun will shine, the rain will fall, the seasons will turn, the world will continue on, and time won't stand still. I'll turn 47 years old in June and wonder how that happened, and in November I'll celebrate 27 years of marriage. My hair will continue to sport this interesting white and the wrinkles around my eyes, which are just starting to show, will deepen. One day someone will call me wise.


Thursday Thirteen is a way to get to know a bunch of folks. You can learn more about it here. This my 121th week of participating!

Nonfiction Books

Women Who Worry Too Much
By Holly Hazlett-Stevens, Ph.D.
Copyright 2005
168 pages

The Blood Pressure Cure
by Robert E. Kowalski
Copyright 2007
304 pages


These are two nonfiction books I've delved into over the holidays. Nothing like a little "light" reading, eh?

The first book was a present from Santa, who apparently thinks I spend too much time contemplating impossible endings to situations, aka as worry. The book offers a hands-on method for dealing with worry. Identify the worry, determine the absolute worst outcome, find ways to stop avoidance behaviors, and other ways to clear your head are among the techniques the author explores. Living in the present, known as mindfulness, is highly touted.

The second book I bought in hopes of controlling my blood pressure. I am doing all the right things, mostly, but this was a good reinforcement for my behavior. The book advocates five "secret weapons" that are supposed to help with blood pressure. These are arginine,which is an amino acid, grape seed extract, tomato extract, pycnogenol, (which frankly I never did understand), and cocoa (but not milk chocolate; pure cocoa).

Also, lose weight, don't smoke, eat your fruits and veggies, etc.

After this heavy reading, I'm ready for a little fiction!

Flames

Yesterday, my husband started a fire in the fireplace.

We haven't burned wood in the house since we painted and installed new carpeting in 2005. The fireplace will heat practically the whole house but it makes a huge mess.

It is also very labor intensive.

First, there is that whole chopping wood thing. That falls on my husband's shoulders, and while those shoulders are broad and his arms strong, he is no longer a young man. While 50 might be the new 40, he's still 50.

Second, I am allergic to woodsmoke. I am also allergic to a lot of the wood itself. When we have a fire, a sinus infection is generally not far behind. I downed a 24-hour allergy med in hopes of keeping said sinus infection at bay.

Third, the mess. The fireplace insert lets a good deal of smoke back into the house, which stains the walls and ceiling. Wood chips get into the carpeting. Bugs crawl out of the logs. If you're a clean freak, a wood-burning heating device is not necessarily the best heat source.

But cold is cold, and 10 degree F with 40 mph winds is frigid indeed. Besides, the light bill for December was very high.

Fortunately the wood pile, stacked with pre-cut logs, has been sitting behind the outbuilding for many years. So there was no need to trudge through the fields and the woods and the remaining snow and ice, except for what is left in the yard, for fuel. Instead he was able to fire up the tractor, hook a trailer to it, and haul a big load from the woodpile to the house, a distance of about 50 yards, without breaking into much of a sweat.

Building a fire on a cold hearth is no easy task, but with some old newspapers and relatively dry kindling, soon there was a blaze. The blowers on the wood stove insert cut on after about an hour, and the house slowly began to warm.

Today I have lifted my bottom from my chair every hour or so to go and stoke the fire. I throw in a log, hit it with the poker, and watch it flare. The thermostat in the hall has hit a toasty 70 degrees and best of all the furnace isn't cutting on.

My office and the bedroom, both in the front part of the house, are not as warm as the living room but they are comfortable enough. Wood heat feels warmer than what the heat pump and furnace sends out, so the chill has lessened considerably. My old bones aren't feeling the cold like they were this past weekend, anyway.

Fireplaces have heated humanity for thousands of years. I have done nothing new. Watching the flames dance makes me feel a part of something greater than myself. The hearth calls. I answer.

Footprints

A New Day

This morning I watched last year's leaves dance and twist as they skittered across the frozen, snowy field in front of the house.

Two deer moved briskly along the fence line, their fur bristling from the brisk wind. I envisioned chill bumps along their backs as they headed for the skimpy shelter of the cedar trees and thought it an act of Providence that they generally give birth in the spring. A fawn would not easily withstand these frigid days.

The sun moved hesitantly in and out between the clouds and I wished he would stay put a while. The idea of warm loving rays heating up the area around my windows was a welcome one.

The old windows in the house leak so that I could feel a draft across my chest while I tried to work a little at the computer. My hands around the window seals found spaces where the cold air poured in. This despite attempts this fall to seal the things up so we could get another year or two out of them. I thought of my electric bill (we heat with electric) and felt the dollar signs in my gut.

A calm settled over me as I greeted the second day of the new year; I have found myself looking forward to 2010 with an optimism that is almost foreign. New beginnings or just acceptance?

Either way, the world is okay even on a cold, windy gray day, and I feel at peace.

Welcome 2010!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!