The Queen

There is a local restaurant that I frequent when I want to feel surrounded by people who actually care about me. It used to be the “Dairy Queen” but the owners decided to drop their contract and run their business as a local ice cream shop/lunch grill under their own names. I love everyone in that family; they are a part of my extended family and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for any of them.

When you walk into the restaurant, you are immediately aware that the people who frequent this place are workers – all of them - the customers and the owners. There are: farmers with mud caked to their boots; horse people wearing jingling spurs as they stride across the tile floors; and ladies in their finery and diamonds who are the “Steel Magnolias” of Arab. Those are the women I can sit with for hours and never feel like I have to leave. They are the matriarchs of their families and they run their businesses with a gentle but firm hand. I have learned a lot from these ladies. There are also local businessmen and politicians. It’s the happening place in Arab (if there is anything happening here).

What has always amazed me are the farmers. Chickens, cows and horses – the talk of the day. I have learned a lot from these fellows; generally men who most would dismiss as common laborers…until you hear them talking about their latest ski trip or their million-dollar RV that they are having serviced out in Washington state because that’s where they had the thing specially made for them. They drive old, beat up pick-up trucks held together by baling string and Duct tape. These guys are businessmen who don’t wear suits – they wear mud-caked overalls and straw hats. Lesson – never judge a book by its cover. I have learned over the years that if I have trouble, these are the guys I can call whether it’s a sick horse or I just ran the tractor off into a gully (true story by the way) and need helping getting it out before hubby discovers it, banning me from farm machinery. One guy in particular came to my sister’s rescue (I was on vacation) when my koi pond started pumping water out and the fish were lying in three inches of water. He didn’t know much about “fancy fish” but he knew about pumps. Saved the day and a few thousand dollars worth of fish. He’s still shaking his head over it.

I love to sit with the ladies and learn little tidbits about everyone in town. They are like the information-central on the who and what is going on. They know who’s sick (because they took food over before they came to eat lunch); who’s in the hospital (because they went visiting with them last night); who’s in trouble with the law (because they talked to the police who had come in earlier for lunch); who’s getting a divorce (because the wife came in without her wedding ring on); and who’s going on vacation (they saw them loading up one of those RVs). There is not a vicious bone in any of these ladies but they do like a good story and a good audience (me). The only problem I have is that most of these ladies are TIDE PRIDE ladies who never miss a ballgame. During football season I (who am a card-carrying member of Tigers Unlimited – the equivalent of Tide Pride) have to live with an uneasy truce and gentle ribbing underlying most of the conversations. I walked in one day wearing a very orange sweatshirt with Auburn Alumni on it and they asked me if I was working with the State Highway Department – I told them yes and I was directing all traffic away from Tuscaloosa because of the inherent hazards of the place. That earned me a good a good-natured laugh and an orange traffic cone on my car the next time I came in. We love each other and have learned to live with our foibles and our differences.

We used to call the place “The Queen”, even when I was in high school. The locals still do even though it’s no longer got the big red and white sign out front. “The Queen” is my oasis in town when I can go, feel welcomed and pass the time in good company. If I’m feeling down or lonely, it’s the place I head for in order to feel better. Do you have any place that you go to for comfort? Is there a local restaurant where, like “Cheers,” everybody knows your name?

Gardening Is A Process

I've been gazing at my garden with contented eyes and the sense that what is old is new again.  After having been neglected over the winter months, I always enjoy watching my garden sprout new growth out of the ground, be it Bachelor Buttons, Clematis, Stonecrop, Coral Bells, Hosta, Creeping Plox, Honeysuckle, Hydrangea and much, much more.  These days, a few of my favorite annuals, like Salvia, are actually rejuevenating after an unusually warm winter, an act of defiance which always excites me.  I have two batches by my mailbox that are already 12 inches tall.  Yay!  Which means, this year I'm going to have a grand show and an early one at that.  ;) 

Springtime rocks!  (Can I get an amen?)

In my garden, third and fourth generation flowers are growing wherever nature (or more like bird droppings) planted them.  These hardy seedlings often need replanting in better landscape, where sun and shade are at optimum levels for the species and I've always got nooks and craneys to fill.  I've also got tried and true originals, the bones of the garden, visual stablizers, usually in need of a trim, like Azaleas after they bloom, Holly, and Rhododendron.  And then there is the free-zone where annuals like my favs, Lantana, Salvia, Geranium and Vinca, are planted to create a colorful show once the threat of frost has passed (usually April 15 in my neck of the woods).

Watching a garden grow is one of my favorite passtimes.  Much preferred over watching a kettle boil.  What is that old saying?  "A watched pot never boils?"  (Tell that to writers everywhere waiting on contest results or submissions.)

When it comes to gardening, if you don't provide fertilizer, water and sun, not to mention, tender loving care, a garden won't grow.  And let's face it, someone's got to pick the weeds before they declare full-on war.  The same can be said for anything that strikes your fancy, be it painting, scrapbooking, quilting or knitting. 

I love to write so I'll put this in writerly terms. 

Writers have to write, plain and simple.  If a writer doesn't pick up a pen or touch the keyboard with his/her fingertips, the words won't write themselves. 

Writers can sit and stare at a blank screen but that doesn't achieve The End. 

Unless the gardener digs the hole (write the words), plant the seeds (string them together page by page), cover the seedlings with soil (write the book), and provide sun, water and fertilizer (revise, revise, revise), the gardener will not reap the harvest (sell the book).

It's spring!  Spring is a great time for a redo.  Didn't like last year's color scheme (plot)?  Redo.  The plants you chose for your home didn't quite measure up (characters)?  Redo.  The species you chose didn't like the soil, climate, amount of sun (genre)?  Redo.  Easy as 1... 2... 3.

What do you do when the writing needs a redo?  When contest judges declare a redo?  When critique partners don't get it?

 

Seasonal Fashion Rules

Thank goodness Easter is next week. Here in North Alabama we have had a early spring and I have white shoes and white linen clothes begging to be worn. I have white purses begging to be carried.

"Well, why don't you?" you ask. I'll tell you why. Mama said there would be days like this, when I am tempted, so tempted. She also said, "Don't. It's just not done. Not by people like us."

Well. I'm tired of being people like us. I tell myself it's silly. I see other people break the seasonal fashion rules all the time—people who are well mannered and have better sense than I do.

But I can't. Cannot. Cannot bring myself to do it.

The Seasonal Fashion Rules, According to My Mama

• No white shoes, purses, pants, or skirts before Easter or after Labor Day. (Except tennis shoes. Also, cream is acceptable. Cream wool pants are a staple.)
• No straw hats or purses before Easter or after Labor Day.
• No suede after Easter until Labor Day.
• No velvet before Labor Day or after Valentine's Day.
  

I know. I know. I should be my own person and wear white pants before Easter if it's 85 degrees.

How about you? Did anybody bore these rules into you? Do you still follow them?

Pullin’ Pranks and Gettin’ Punk’d

Pranks and tom-foolery seem to be somewhat of a lost art in my world these days. I suppose we’re all so grown up and serious, so career minded and busy that we don’t have time for such things anymore. Well, for most, anyway. But it hasn’t always been like that in my own private world. I’ll give you a view of times past……

One Christmas, we had dinner and the family gathering at M&M’s farm. There was foolishness afoot when my sister Dr M and I went out to the pasture to collect some chips, shall we say. What good could come of going to the pasture for chips on Christmas day, you say? Well….there’s a very special Uncle J and his lovely wife Auntie B who won the family-prankster-recipients-of-the-year award. And so, off we went, Dr M and I, to gather. (It was someone else’s job to handle the Auntie B foolishness.) And what became of the chips? Well, they ended up stuffed into an old work boot, wrapped in beautiful papers and ribbons for Uncle J to rip apart and throw in a wide circle across M&M’s brand new living room carpeting. You can imagine the whoops and hollers that went up in that crowded room, and the cries of M&M. There’s nothing like a bit of manure to complete any family Christmas gathering, aye?

The greatest prank (though unintentional) to ever occur at my childhood home was when my father was bitten by a snake while trimming the bushes. Not funny, I know, but hear me out, okay? See, it was a hot southern day and Daddy wasn’t exactly the fondest of lawn care. That was my mother’s true love. So here he is, trimming the hedges when he gets bit. And right there within reach was the guilty snake, which Daddy immediately picks up and flings across the yard. Mother, being a nurse, examines him quickly and sees the two marks and rushes him off to the ER without checking to see what kind of snake nabbed him. Anyway, I just remember him looking white as a sheet. Later that day, when they returned from the hospital, he didn’t look so very white, but rather more red-faced with embarrassment. Apparently the doc had sent them home to examine the bushes a bit closer. It would seem that he wasn’t bitten, but rather stung. By hornets or wasps, I don’t remember which. And yes, still laying where it was flung was the innocent snake…..of the species reptilious-plasticus! I guess my brother had lost it in the shrubs one day! Oh but we laughed for years….

Now my sister Dr M’s birthday is on April Fool’s Day. Oh the pranks I would LOVE to pull on her. But sadly, my immediate family makes me play nicey-nice. But I’ll tell you, I’ve always wanted to send her a box of birthday chocolates. Well, mostly chocolates, anyway. I think it’d be fun to remove a few of the candied delicacies and replace them with hand-dipped ….... chocolate …..... cotton balls? Imagine her surprise!!! Tehehehe………Blek! Of course, now she’s on to me after reading this : /

Food pranks are always fun, like presenting a cake for dinner that’s really mashed potato iced meatloaf (the kids love this one!). Familyfun.com is a good resource for food tricks. And of course, these days pranking happens more frequently on Facebook (change the language) or Microsoft (change the screen to the blue-death-screen). Office tricks in our technology enhanced world are fun, so you can explore a few here… http://www.aprilfools.com/office-pranks.html#Auto-Correct (I admit I’ve had a bit of no-good-silliness with spellcheck myself!)

So has the fun been shut down in your world? Do you have crazy prank memories? What April Fool’s Day foolishness will you pull this year?

E-Readers Anyone?

I recently had a lovely day with Pantster and our friend, the Fabulous Lynn Raye Harris, joined us for lunch. In the course of our conversations, they repeatedly referred to books they had read on their electronic readers. Then they moved on to compare features on their different electronic gadgets.

As most anyone who talks with me for at least ten minutes knows, I am a Luddite. I don't fear technology. I just usually don't like it and it doesn't like me. In fact, it hates me. That's right; technology hates me. All of my technological gadgets stop working and/or malfunction at a very alarming rate, especially at school. My smart board and computers act up about twice as often as the machines of the other teachers on my hall. This school year alone, my room's telephone has had to have a technician visit it twice. Once it was so bad that after the regular technician worked on it for about an hour, he called in his supervisor who ended up telling him to just order a new phone. So believe me when I say that the problem between technology and me is severe!

Then there is my love of books. As I have mentioned before, I love the way books smell and feel in my hand. Love books, hate technology, so you can just imagine the strength of my desire to not have an e-reader. But then I heard my friends talking about all the different things they could read on them and how quickly they could just click on a link then wham! There was a new book right in their hands. The town where I live doesn't even have a book store, so you can probably see what a powerful attraction getting the book I want instantly would be. They also mentioned how they can get electronic copies of books that aren't available in print. I hate to miss out on anything so that made me stop and consider.

I am bringing it to you to help me decide.

• Do you have an e-reader? If so, what is your favorite thing about owning it?
• Do you wish you had one? Why?
• If you have one how did you decide between the different types, especially Nook vs. Kindle?

Bread and Circuses

Bread and Circuses – Rome. Remember the gladiators? Feed the masses and give them entertainment, bloodthirsty entertainment. What more could the public want? Seems to be a theme going here in the United States or at least in the literature. I must give credit where credit is due for this blog. I read Playground Monitor’s blog last week on the “Hunger Games” and decided that I had to read it to find out what all the uproar was about. Well, I read the book. Here’s my take on it and it's my opinion only.

Actually it was a very good book. Suzanne Collins drew you in and made you like the heroine, Katniss. You identify with the girl and her tribulations in a post-apocalyptic world. Then Collins made you want to root for her in the games. She had to win. I think it was well written, a bit stilted in some parts, but overall a very good, quick read. Now, I am a lot older than the average fan of this book and I have a lot of life experiences that a pre-teen would not have. I can appreciate the darkness and the cynicism about the government. I understand the struggle for survival that is all through this book. Katniss does exactly what I would do to protect my family. She does it nobly and with honor. All the things we hold dear in a heroine.

BUT, I just do not see this as a young adult novel, or at least a novel for the pre-teens who are devouring it. The darkness, the despair and the utter hopelessness that pervades the book could become depressing. I also do not think that a pre-teen (and here I am actually talking about fourth to sixth grade children) should be subjected to the murder and mayhem occurring in the book. It just seems too intense. I won’t spoil the book for those of you who have not read it but there is one character who dies in this book and it is not an easy death. I hated it but it was a necessary part of the plot. I am conflicted about this book being read by children who do not possess enough life knowledge to understand that death is final and that, unlike a video game, you aren’t coming back from it. I truly believe death has been trivialized by a lot of things in our society – video games where the object is murder makes it seem impermanent. This is not to say that Ms. Collins trivialized the deaths in the book. What I am trying to say is that children reading this see a heroine who kills. Without the knowledge that is pertinent to understanding Katniss’s predicament, the killing of others just seems inconsequential. I think that the age limit for this book should be, like movies, rated to young adults, thirteen and above. Just my opinion.

The theme of this book closely parallels the gladiator games in Rome. I also wonder about what the popularity of this book says about us. Are we like the ancient Romans who need excitement and the death of others to make us feel more alive or to feel entertained? I know, it’s just a book but it’s a young adult novel. Do our children understand the deaths and the reasons for those deaths in the book? That the government is punishing the Districts like Rome punished its provinces? Maybe this would be a good time to show the children that this has actually happened before. Those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it.

How do you feel about the book? Do you feel that it’s appropriate for pre-teens (and I know they do) to read this? Give me your opinion on the books, whether you’ve read them or will read them. Also, tell me your thoughts on the underlying theme of the book. I’d like to know.

Swim Like Nobody's Business

Once I had the privilage of hearing Nora Roberts speak at a conference.  This past Sunday, my pastor preached about something similiar to what Nora had to say back then about swimming pools.  Both topics resonated with me in a profound way, especially since we just took our pool cover off.  And so, I got to pondering, like I always do, about Nora's speech, my pastor's sermon, swimming pools, my life and where I see myself yesterday, today and tomorrow.

First, before you jump into a pool, make sure there's plenty of water!

Second, now that your pool is full, DIVE or JUMP into the water!  That's the first step in bringing your dreams to life. 

Can't swim?  Invest in a buoy or an innertube.  Be careful, intertubes have a tendency to spin you round and round until you're so dizzy you don't know where the deep end is.  Want a body-length float to ease your weary bones and take in some sun, complete with drink cozy?  Be careful not to get so comfortable you fall asleep and drift off course.

How does someone achieve their dreams in a swimming pool metaphor?  As Nora says, you must JUMP in and paddle yourself to the other side or chance getting nowhere fast.  You can tread water, doggie paddle, or swim like a fish, whichever methods you choose.  But first, you have to get into the pool and then, you must move forward.  Nevermind the pool can be a scary place, especially when it's filled with other writers trying not to drown, kicking and slapping the surface to reach the other side.  Magnify that image by thousands and you've got a tsunami headed near you.

So how can you swim the vast pool without losing sight of your goals?

Rule #1: JUMP in the water. 

You can slide in, JUMP in or step down the ladder one run at a time, but you MUST be in the water at some point.  Forty feet of water or more rests between you and your goal - the deep end.  Some writers never make it.  Fear overwhelms them and makes them sink like a rock.  Fear of failure, of success cramps others calves.  Whatever your fears, whatever obsticles you face, don't EVER give up!  The deep end of a pool shouldn't be feared.  In it's depths can be found strength, endurance, and gumption to survive when life-guards have been called and all others have turned around and gone back to the shallow end in order to stand on their feet. 

Rule #2: TRUST your limbs, your intuition, your talent, your ability to make it to the other side. 

Within each of us is a dream, a goal the Creator has nourished for a purpose.  If we give in to exhaustion.  If we call out for a buoy.  If we turn back before reaching the other side, we cheat ourselves and will never know what could have been.

Rule #3: Never lose sight of your TARGET goal.

When you're in the pool, focus on what you believe, what you know, the goal that's worth swimming your butt off for.  Winston Churchill said, "Never give up!"  Don't watch the other swimmers or compare yourself.  That's a waste of time.  Some flail about like drowning rats, clawing in a panic to use you to keep them afloat.  Some prefer to dunk you under the water when you get too close,rather than see you succeed.  And then there are those - I love these the most! - who cheer you on from the sidelines, and even within the pool itself, urging you to stroke, stroke, stroke the water until you grasp onto the opposite edge in rapturous glee.  It is there and only there, success, like a waterfall, soothes with ten-thousand delights.

If you jumped into the water late last year, entered the Golden Heart and finaled, you're enjoying the cooling effects of that waterfall now.  If you didn't final, like me, take heart.  We jumped in the water when so many others didn't.  We kicked our feet and swam with the best as far as we could go.  We didn't turn back.  Remember, the prize isn't a contest final.  The prize is the ultimate goal - the deep end.  We reached it simply by submitting our manuscripts for the contest.

Rule #4: Swim like nobody's business!

Share your sink or swim stories with us today.