Typo Terror

As many of you know, Pantster and I are in the process of getting some requested work ready to submit.  We were talking last night about how difficult it can be to find typographical errors in work after you have looked the same words for months.

It is often even tougher to find missing words.  I think when our brains read they just fill in any missing words so that the sentence makes sense.  This is probably the one error that we have the most trouble with.  I think like many writers we know what we are saying so we don't notice the missing words.

I think that spell and grammar check have also contributed to make us somewhat more complacent than we once were.  I know that I  personally watch for that red squiggly line to help me spell or find words that are misspelled.  It is very helpful but not so much when I have chosen the wrong word.  The word plains, for example.  If  I am talking about a man's face the word should be planes of his face.  Of course, I guess if he was not handsome that it could be the plains of his face but generally speaking that is not the case.

What is your best tip or strategy for discovering typographical errors?

The Signs Are There

Jean talked about mothers on Monday. This got me to thinking that it was time I shared on the blog what was going on in my life. You see, when my father died three years ago, my mom didn't know what she was going to do. Knowing that she has always loved to travel (former Army wife), we asked her to come live with us as we live a busier lifestyle than she did back home. Because she had two more years to go before she could retire, she continued to work before finally coming to live with us last fall.

This past year has been a learning curve for all of us. (I actually have hair!) My kids left the nest to experience the world, and hubby and I were going to be alone for the first time in, well, as many years as we've had kids. We had a good six week run before Mom moved in. Before her two cats followed, joining our two cats. If I'd been a better pirate, I would have put my foot down right away and refused to allow her to bring her furry offspring into our home. But, trying to be a good daughter, we allowed her to bring her Siamese cat and rolly-polly Tabby.

Before I go on, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that my cats, Mr. Billington and Miss Daae, were not a bit pleased with this new addition to our home. We're talking feline rioting here! Cat fights. Name calling. Smacking of paws. Jealousy! In fact, I'm surprised Pussy Galore wasn't called in to take Mom's cats out.

Sadly, rolly-polly Tabby was sick. We knew this before we took him in. His kidneys were almost gone. Should have known right away that he would not make it longer than four months in our home. He passed away after a long and courageous fight at the vets. But, Mom didn't want to leave him behind because he reminded her of my dad, nor did she want to leave her Siamese. And so, we took the blighters in. Arrrr!

In order not to sicken anyone on this blog, I'll just say that this has been a great struggle and my house has turned into a battle zone. First, rolly-polly Tabby's health declined, as well as his litter habits. Second, Mr. Billington decided (after 13 1/2 years of being the best cat EVER) to mimick the sick cat. (I leave it to you to imagine what that means and I'm still battling this on a daily basis.) The Siamese couldn't, and sometimes still can't, get along with anyone. To prove her superiority over all felinedom, she ate the carpet off the bottom of our stairs.

To remedy the Siamese's decidedly annoying habit of tearing up my house, Mom put aluminum foil across the bottom of the stairs. Well, I will say that, though that has kept her cat from devouring my carpet, anyone who enters my house will think we are the family from the movie, Signs. Yes, indeedie. Now all we need are a few half-filled glasses of water sitting haphazardly around the house. Hubby just needs to get a baseball bat at the ready so I can yell, "Swing away!" at a convenient time. (Thank God we don't have a cornfield!)

Recently someone shut the Siamese upstairs. What did she do? She tore the carpet up by the door, trying to get out. Hubby said, "Why don't we just give the cats the house?" (We cannot fix the damage until the cats are gone.)

When everyone was home for my FIL's funeral, #4 kept saying she heard a cat in the shower. A cat in the shower? That's impossible. Then the wheels started turning in my head and I thought, how in the world would that Siamese figure out how to get in my walls? After hours of searching, we discovered the Siamese in the water heater closest. She'd been there for over 24 hours. Someone had shut her up there. Sadly, she'd been without food or water for over a day. We just thought she'd hidden from our grandsons.

It's apparent that Siamese cat has never heard curiosity killed the cat. By my calculations, she's four lives down, with five to go, providing she hadn't used up any before moving into my home.

If you can make lemonade from lemons, at times like these, a more versatile beverage comes to mind, rum. And it better not be gone!

Signs. Glasses half-full. Bat at the ready. Swing away!

What have your pets done for you lately?

Opposites DON'T Attract!

There is an old saying that “opposites attract.” Do you believe it? I used to until I started looking at my characters and then at my relationship with hubby. I did a little research and found countless psychological studies that firmly state the saying has no validity. The studies do emphasize that surface opposites (such as race, religion or culture) might be the background for the saying that opposites attract. However, when looking at the core values of the individuals, the studies found the couples actually share the same beliefs. Sooo…they’re not really opposites.

I found an interesting website, http://www.how-to-change-careers.com/personal-core-values.html, which lists core values for career changes. Even though it concerned work, I used it to give me a pretty comprehensive list of personal beliefs, i.e. “core values”. I sat down with hubby and we went through them separately. Believe it or not, we came up with the same beliefs we value. A few included: success, winning, compassion, honesty, humour, independence, ambition, focus and, of course, love. That sincerely amazed me that we agree on so many things. I always thought we were opposites who had found each other. We are socially different, from different cultures and different areas of the country but our belief systems are very similar.

And how does this pertain to writing? I did the same thing with a couple of my characters and wa-la, they have the same core values – family, home, love, respect and honesty. I didn’t even realize I was doing this with the characters. I thought they were so diametrically opposed to each other that it was truly a case of “opposites attract.” Ah, such conflict or so I thought. When we are writing, I think that subconsciously we know that opposites would not end up together – there is too much stress. People who share the same belief system will make it and will stay together. I am going to use this list to keep things in mind when I write about how my characters will relate to each other and their beliefs.

So tell me: are you and your significant other “opposites” or are you of a like mind and soul? And have you ever thought about how we write our characters? Do they possess the same values? Let me know what you think.

Oh, and today is mine and my hubby’s thirty-first wedding anniversary. Geez, we’re getting old!! But we’re still having fun, after all these years…

Mama said There'd Be Days LikeThis or Laying Down the Law

Recently, my sister and I got on a tear remembering what Mama said. An aside. I'm sure you're shocked that I 'm about to get off topic.: Though we never called her Mama. She called our grandmother Mama, who we called Grandmother. We went straight from Mommy to Mother. At the time, southerners did not call their mothers Mom. Truly. The only people I knew who called their mothers Mom were in books and on television. I attribute the unfortunate and recent cultural change we've seen in the maternal moniker to the media and the influx of people who have relocated from other parts of the county.

Anyway, enough of that. Back to my mother and her directives.

In keeping with her self-imposed duty as CEO in charge of our lives, our mother spent an extraordinary amount of time and energy doing what she called Laying Down the Law. I say self-imposed because, God knows, we didn't ask for it.

This is just a sampling:

• Know your place. Don't overstep. Don't presume.
• Don't start. Just don't. We're not starting that.
• It's not about you.
• Do not horn in on a situation where you are not wanted. If those people don't want to be with you, they don't deserve your company and you can do better.
  
• You tend to your own rat killing and let them tend to theirs. (Which means: Mind your own business.)
• There is no boy worth your girlfriends.
• Put your husband first and he'll put you first.
• Don't you let anybody run over you. Don't start it, but take up for yourself.
• If you think you're going out like that, you can think again. Now you go wash that face and try again.
• No decent girl has any business out after eleven o'clock. You had better be in this house by then or that phone better ring with you on the other end with a good reason.
• Don't contradict people.
• You don't have to tell everything you know.
• If you are not able to go to school/church, you're not able to do anything else.
• Get off the phone.
  

What did your Mother say? What do you/did you call her?

Recipe Friday--Tomato Pie

I love tomato pie and this is the perfect time of year for it. This is a very simple version. There are some recipes out there all doctored up with puff pastry, goat cheese, bacon and basil. I'm sure they are good, if you're into that kind of thing. And I am. Well, except for the goat cheese. No. I've tried. No, again. Anyway, I like for the star of the show to be the tomatoes with Parmesan singing backup. Think of the tomatoes as Jon Bon Jovi, the Parmesan as Richie Sambora and the other ingredients as those others, whose names I don't actually know.

Tomato Pie

· 1 pie crust

· 2-3 sliced tomatoes

· 1 chopped shallot*

· 2/3-cup light mayo

· ½ cup Parmesan cheese

· dash of msg

· squeeze of lemon juice

· dash garlic powder

Slice tomatoes. Salt them and put them in a colander to drain for a few minutes. Layer tomato slices and shallot in crust. Mix remaining ingredients. Spread over top. Bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes.

*I use shallot if I have it. If not, I use most of a green onion. Barring that a couple tablespoons of regular minced onion will do.

Back to School Daze

Once again, it is back to school time.  I love this time of year!  I know that there are many teachers who back to school and many more parents who love it.  I suppose both  are natural, but I always get so excited whenever I think about the fresh start a new school year gives us.

My students come to me not really knowing much about me. They are always so excited and often a little nervous about starting a new grade with a new teacher.  I am always excited to get new students to start new adventures.

This year I am changing grade levels and so I got to change rooms.  I love, love, my new room and have thanked my principal more than once for the new opportunities that she is giving me this year. My school has registration tomorrow, when I will meet some of my new students' parents for the first time.  My room is all ready with a jungle theme (Gooooo  Tigers!),  its uber cool student library (complete with reading cave), and   publishing center with a new computer and printer.  I am looking forward to a great new year!

What is your best back to school memory?

Opening Up A Can of Whoop Ass

As you know we went up to be with my FIL during and after his surgery, and then to make arrangements for his funeral. Since we were staying overnight, we went to eat at a local restaurant which celebrates the mountainous region in both decor and Appalachian merchandise. It's a great place for down home atmosphere. You can get fudge in just about every flavor, mint, pistachio, hazelnut, caramel and so forth. Which is a draw for a chocolate lover like me.

The fare at this restaurant is, of course, indicative of the south, including, pinto beans, cornbread, corn fritters, ham, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, slaw and gravy.

The owners and waiters are extra nice and offer the kind of service one wishes to find at every restaurant. There are even log cabins to rent alongside. Some of you may have already guessed what this place is. If you guessed the Smokehouse in Monteagle, TN., you were right.

I adore the Smokehouse! Our niece and nephew had a double wedding reception there many years ago. It was a grand affair with over 5 different flavors of wedding cake. Yum! (I love cake!)

But what I really love about the Smokehouse is the southern cred it brings to heart. It is there, and only there, that you can literally open up a can of Whoop Ass without worrying about saying, "Whoop Ass!" ;) (Those who know me know how hard that is for me to do with the LTC around. Imagine his chagrin when I repeated the name of the item over and over again, while pointing at the can.) Pirate!

And so as an ode to my fellow southern friends here at Okay, Listen Here. I give you the ever valuable can to whoop about, in triplet.



Not to be outdone by a can of Road Kill or Stewed & Potted Possums!




(I failed to mention that I passed on buying a can of Butt Grease or that I brought back a can of Whoop Ass for each of my blogmates.)

A disclaimer: Said can of Whoop Ass may accompany me on excursions on the road, indoors or at home where I will say "Whoop Ass" to my heart's content. Pirate!

When have you wanted to open up a can of Whoop Ass? Do tell!

This message will self-destruct when my mouth tires of saying Whoop Ass.