Weather and Moods

       Everyone knows the weather can affect a persons mood. Sunshine can lift spirits and calm agitation.Fall weather affect many with wanderlust and some with feelings of hearth and home,cozy fires burning brightly in fireplaces,the scent of burning leaves and fragrant hearty soups and stews elicit memories of home for many people.
      The farmers have their crops harvested and fields plowed and waiting for spring. Ranchers are ready for winter.Last minute checks on hay bales in pastures,cattle in the correct pastures,stalls for the horses clean and spread with clean bedding. Blankets for the prize stock waiting in the tack rooms
      This is a time of relaxing before the long cold days of winter, bone chilling winds and sleet and snow begin. The trek to the barn,stables or pastures become a decidedly harsher task.But,there is also a sense of accomplishment in their ongoing battle and partnership with Mother Nature that rural folks have that city dwellers and those who don't live off the land don't feel and may not understand.
     Rural folks may curse Mother Nature but most wouldn't change what they do and where they live. Living off the land toughens a person,gives them untold rewards and numerous heartaches.City dwellers experience the same, just in a different way.
     What does this have to do with moods? Think about it.How do you feel on a warm spring day?Or a dreary winter day vs a winters day with soft white snowflakes covering the bleak concrete or dry brown grass. On Spring days do you feel euphoric and full of energy and the need to play hooky from work and play in the sun? Or ready to plow the fields for new crops and delighting in the newest crop of babies? Even a spring rain awakens the childish thoughts of splashing in puddles and dancing in the warm rain. Weather affects our moods,sometimes in a positive way and unfortunately sometimes brings thoughts of loneliness and despair.
     Either way,negatively or positively, our moods definitely change with the weather.

Thoughts on the New Year of 2011.

       Twenty eleven is almost here. I expressed to my dear friend Mark,who is a computer genius or a  computer wizard in my opinion,that I  think I have been caught in a time warp or would that be a time warp continuum?I am not a Syfy buff,but I do watch Dr Who occasionally and never missed an episode of the original Star Trek.Yes Mark,the original is still the only Star Trek I recognize.Even with it's cheesy special effects and William Shatner's campy acting. Firefly was a great series too and ended much too soon.
     However;I did love the Stark Trek movie with the younger versions of the crew and better special effects.But I digress.
     I am caught in a 2010 Hell and hope that a worm hole will open soon and throw me into 2011. I can only hope it is a much better year. Maybe even a fantastic year.
    Fortunately, I just turned another year older. Unfortunately,I did not become a minute wiser it seems.Actually, I suppose I am a bit wiser. I now recognize when I am caught in a loop of loss and no win situations without an acceptable way out.
    This does not mean however; that I can always avoid them. Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and jump into the fray,praying you come out the other side mostly intact.that unenviable position is precisely where I am at the moment.Feet first into a fray not of my making,well I suppose I did make the initial choices that led to where I am today.
   Okay fine! I admit I did, all on my own, make the initial choices. Damn it, they seemed like the right choices at the time.Little did I know those decisions would come back like Ole Man Coyote( Native American fable about how coyote learns by making mistakes and the wrong decisions. Coyote always seems to show up when there is a major decision for me to make, then gleefully bites me in the butt.
   You would think after all the years, I would have a much smaller butt. All I have is a lot of moves to new homes( None of them mine or permanent),money worries,mind numbing stress, and a very narrow range of choices that are even remotely what I thought I would have at this time in my life. Well as long as I am alive there is hope for better time. At least I have people I love and I have been love.
   Truly all we are promise and can be certain of  in this lifetime is the breath we are taking at this second.

Yard Sale and Second Hand Gifts

       Well it wasn't a complete waste of time.We made sixty dollars to split three ways.Operative word being COMPLETE. Day continued cool and cloudy.People came and looked, some friendly,some surly. No big ticket items sold,but we didn't have as much as we thought we would have to sell. Maybe our heart just wasn't into having a really profitable garage sale or maybe most people were at the mall,Target,Wal-Mart,etc, frantically buying last minute gifts. No desire to drive around to see what else be out there and take a chance on losing out on a new and shiny item. I guess second hand stuff as a gift sounds a bit tacky now that I think about it.
     I remember the year my husband and I were really tight on cash and  bought gifts from resale shops and pawn shops for our kids. Some only worked briefly,some were scratched and some had no instructions on how to operate. DISASTER and the worst Christmas ever,before or since.
I have bought gifts from resale shops,pawn shops,etc since that Christmas but Never,Ever,the main gifts.Lesson learned. We had good intentions,but I will never forget the disappointed faces of our children.

Pre- Christmas yard sale.

      Ahhh the excitement and sadness of a moving yard sale.Couple that with a family breaking up,two days before Christmas with limited funds for presents, stir in the elements of the fifth move in three year and having to find a temporary home for a beloved dog and the confusion and excitement of a four year old who has no idea of all the dynamics and you have the set up for a very strained Christmas.
     Forced smiles,frayed tempers and frustration flavor the atmosphere with a heavy pre-storm electricity.
Garage sales are not easy to withstand with good humor in the best of times. The circumstances surrounding our garage sale were decidedly gloomy.
   We got a really late start,all of us were tired and putting on the best faces we could.Our first customer was friendly,bought a few items and stayed to visit.By eleven am we had sold a few items and eyeing the gloomy, very chilly, weather. Will post more on our epic garage sale at the end of the day.

Lifes Roller Coaster Rides and Carnivals.

          Well here I am, back where I started, Louisiana. Well, not exactly where I originally started. I started out this life in northeast Louisiana,in the small town of West Monroe. Moved to across the river to Monroe then on to Rayville,Louisiana. Rayville is where I spent the happiest days of my life. Maybe if I had known those would be the happiest,I would have stayed there and refused to budge,no matter who or what came along to turn my head.
          But a marvelously exciting carnival hit town with multicolored lights, brightly painted rides and barkers telling of all the wonders to behold inside the gates. All to be had for the small price of a ticket. I remember my excitement as I paid the price and entered the gates,bright eyed and full of wonder. I almost turned back but the dazzled expressions of the people pulled me forward.Still I hesitated.
        Then the rumble of a giant roller coaster rolled up and lurched to a stop. I took one look at the handsome,dazzling expressions on the people already on the ride and I jumped in. I found myself caught up in the excitement as it began to move forward and climb above all the bright lights of the carnival.Everything about the carnival was bright,colorful and exciting.
       All too soon, I saw the burned out bulbs,peeling paint and fake,forced smiles on the carnies faces and I  realized my error.All the excitement,side shows,games and smiling people were merely a facade.   
      Underneath it all, was jealousy,poverty,longing,sadness,desertion, and unrealized dreams. By this time, it was too late and I closed the door on my dreams and former life.
      The life I lived wasn't a bad life. The days of hard work in school were rewarded in the end.I had a good paying, stable profession,a husband who loved me dearly, and children who were healthy and intelligent.
      Eventually we had a small farm,plans to build a house, and I had new dreams. However; I knew I could never recreate the my old life or realize the dreams I had. I desperately tried to,and lost sight of the life I did have.That desperate attempt cost me the love of my husband and the life I could have had with him.
          So here I am back in Louisiana,but my circumstances are far different. I'm lucky to have the love and support of my children and friends,but realize that what I lost, I can never regain. I can revisit in my memories,smile with pleasure and cry with longing  but I can't recreate the past by jumping on that damn roller coaster again. This time,I can see the peeling pain and I can smell the sourness of the filthy sawdust  under my feet. The colorful bright lights, the false smiles and too desperate laughter of the carnival aren't so deceivingly pretty now.
        I look at things with older and hopefully,wiser eye now.I still have time to make a new life for myself and enjoy it and all I have been blessed with.I just have to remember the lessons I've learned and embrace all I  have now.Enjoy all my memories,good,sad or bad and remember the  important lessons I've learned.  The grass is rarely greener on the other side of the fence. 
       Oh and the most important lesson of all. To turn my back on that damn carnival ride!

Mothers learn to be a mother from their mother

      I admit it.I never liked children,never wanted to have children,hold a child,play with a child,etc I had plans for how my life would be,at least I did until I did until I met Richard.I don't even know how it happened that I became an entirely different person.I was head over heels in love. A gorgeous man loved and wanted me. gone were my plans to be a vet and run our farm with my stepfather.Gone was the feisty,independent farm girl,the artist and self reliant sixteen year old on the cusp of womanhood.
     He wanted me! At least he wanted the me he thought I was and the me he could change me into. Six years later I was an empty shell of me,had two children and no Richard.Was it all his fault.Absolutely not! I gave up the real me,shoved that young girl deep inside and forged a new me.
    I never liked her and  she didn't like me.I hid her so deep inside the body we shared,I eventually forgot she existed. To this day I don't understand why she didn't fight to come back and get us out of the mess I had made.
  Now let me say this,I loved my two children and did my best to give them a good life.   My stepfather eventually began to speak to me again and we regained some of our closeness.Until I decided to go to nursing school so I could support my children and me.I missed being wealthy  and at least wanted some independence from my stepfather. I did my best to be a fairly good mother and that is all I can claim to being.
    Then I remarried,not for love but out of fear, laziness,loneliness or to defy my stepfather I honestly don't know.Anyway the marriage lasted until I woke up the next morning cursing my stupid desperation and my impulsive wedding.I was divorced within a few months.
    I graduated from nursing school,worked hard,met a guy,liked him a lot and married him for the wrong reasons.Went back to nursing school,married him,had two more children and gradually went out of my mind.No I was not a raving lunatic,but I was out of control.Desperate for something to ease my pain and make me whole. I thought marrying a guy I really liked and a lot of fun with and who had wealthy parents  was a great idea. Two children,another nursing degree,a move to Texas, buying land,making plans to build a house and have a small farm later,I had no clue who I was and just how depressed I was.
    I had grown to love my husband and his family,but I had no clue who I was or how to pull myself together.I could no more control my unhappiness,pull myself out of my depression, or see what I was doing to my husband. I made some really stupid mistakes.He was no angel either and we wounded each other deeply.Eventually he could stand no more and walked away.I missed him desperately.Oh hindsight is such a bitch.
    I began to see a great psychologist,worked hard as an RN,took care of my youngest daughter and carved out a good life for us with the help of Prozac for the depression.
    It has taken me thirty years to find that girl imprisoned deep inside me and apologize to her.I can't go back and undo the things I did that I learned from my mother.I do know now just how much of an impact she  made on me. I followed her teachings and examples without being aware of what I was doing. I loved my mother,I finally realized I didn't like her one damn bit. She was dishonest,manipulative,greedy,self serving,used people to gain what she wanted without any expression of regret for her actions.
    She was also,kind,beautiful,witty,loving and nurturing and let me know she loved me.Well at least she always said she loved me and my sister.


    I look back now and realize I how closely I followed my mother's example.Things, became more important to me. I used them to fill a void in my life. I allowed them to become more important to me than the people in my life. I hid my deepest feelings,longing and regrets for a path not taken by acquiring stuff. I closed myself off to loving and giving my heart to my husband because of my regret and longing for the path I didn't choose.
A life with my stepfather on the farm. I didn't follow my dream. Why?  I think the main reason was falling in love with the wrong man and my stubbornness to see my mistake.My stepfather tried to make me see the real Richard and how I was becoming someone I was not in order to please him.
    By the time I could see what I had done, it was too late and the farm was gone along with all my dreams and the person I really was.
    I can't undo the past and parts of it I wouldn't want to.I love my children and my wonderful granddaughter,Azalynn. Somehow I will become a whole person again.I apologized to the lost girl I hid inside of me. It is too late for her dreams too.But I can embrace her and honor her by becoming the kind of person we could have been if we had merged.
    I will never like my mother, but I can forgive her and understand that she did what she had to do to survive and obtain what she felt was her dream. I wonder if she too had a part of herself she had to deny in order to obtain what she decided she wanted most in life.Did she have a dream she gave up? Did she have regrets?Who did she learn from? Her mother died within hours after Momma was born. 
    Those are questions I'll never have answers to.Momma at the age of 65. My age now. I suppose the answers to all my questions don't really matter now,but I wish I had known more about her dreams and if she realized those dreams. I have learned this from her.To tell my children my story,love them,support them,be honest with them, and let them see who I really am.Maybe they will learn something useful from my mistakes. 
     The girl I was and the woman I am, have finally made peace with each other and will grow old together as one whole person.

Cloud watching

      Cloud watching is not al waste of time or a way to procrastinate from an dreaded chore or job. Many decisions can be made by freeing the mind and contemplating the formation,color,and  movement of the clouds. Are they rain clouds,potential tornado forming clouds, or heavy with snow?My favorite cloud gazing activity is finding shapes in the clouds.
     Today I sat outside and intended to find shapes and escape into fantasy worlds. What I found was insight into my life and how I arrived where I am today. I could see the decisions I have made that set me on a path and the twists and turns the path has taken until now. I have no idea what will happen next,where I will be living or what life holds for me.
                                               I do know that I am a survivor!
    I will face whatever comes,overcome or settle into it.I can make the best of hardships and grow or sink into despair.I have faced one kick in the gut after another and I'm still here. I have been given many gifts and have had many taken away. But I remain a strong,positive,loving woman. A strong warrior faces obstacles with courage. I realized in those soundless clouds is  the potential of life giving rain, destructive storms, and incredible beauty.  My message,and of course I have one today, is to go outside, look up at the clouds and see what you find. You might be surprised by where your imagination and your thoughts takes you.

Finding Comfort?

       I have no one to give me a hug or tell me everything is going to be okay and will work out for the best.That isn't a whine or a cry for pity just stating a fact. Most days I am fine all by myself and don't need comforting
      Today wasn't one of those days.Actually it hasn't been one of those days for several months,maybe even several years.I prefer not to elaborate.
      When I realized I really needed a hug today,I went in search of a substitute. I wrote several pages in my romance manuscript,which made me realize I have no romance in my life and no prospects for any in the foreseeable future.Matthew MacFadyen is taken and too young for me even if he were single.
      What did I find? Pistachio Almond ice cream, Hershey's toffee bar,macaroni and cheese and blueberry bagels dunked in hot chocolate with marshmallows and Key Lime pie heaped with cool whip and a diet Pepsi.
       No I did not eat all of this in one sitting,I spaced it out over the entire day.I read a" what if version" of Pride & Prejudice,which I am addicted to reading by the stacks, by the way,and lounged on the sofa while I listened to Christmas carols.
       Did all of these things bring me comfort.NO!Well gazing at Matthew's picture did,the rest just gave me a belly ache,numerous trips to the bathroom, and tears of sadness until I chastised myself for my pity party and called and talked to my daughter.She is discovering passionate love for the first time.Made me remember that marvelous,euphoric feeling that scares the hell out of a person and makes them desperate to hold on to it.(Sorry,that is a post for another day).
      The point is I didn't feel better,I just felt guilty for gaining back the few pounds I recently lost Next time I'll just read,drink diet Pepsi and gaze at Matthew's picture. However, it did make me wonder what do you  do to comfort yourself when all you really want is a hug and does it work?Make a comment!

Control issues and letting go.

         I need to have control.I get nervous and frustrated and impatient when I don't.Eventually I get angry. I want to take charge and make things happen in a timely manner and preferably how when and where I want them to. I do not relinquish control in a gracious manner.However; I know that about myself and I do attempt to back off and let some things unfold as they are going to and stop worrying and obsessing about things not being done the way I want them done.Okay,okay.I admit that happens rarely. I alienate many people with this need for control.
       A wonderful Native American friend of mine told me that you can't push the river. Unfortunately,knowing that hasn't stopped me from trying. Yes, I know I am often beating my head against a brick wall,but maybe that will be the day,the wall cracks before my head does.
       I believe in a higher power,well honestly,I will admit on most days I do.I choose to believe,even though I do not understand the overall plan said entity has for me.I am at an age when I should have my house paid for,enjoying my grand kids, and my retirement.I say my prayers and I give thanks. I smudge with sage and cedar and follow Christian and Native American beliefs pray for help in making the right decisions.
      However,I do so with a wait and see attitude sometimes.I wait and see if I can make things happen faster,or better or the way I think they should happen. Okay I suppose I just answered my own question.I am still  trying to keep control and still expect  the higher power power,God,Great Spirit to do his job.I do recognize that this makes little sense.But there it is.I have trouble turning loose and trusting. Maybe I can turn loose a little at a time and see how things go. You know,just take a back seat and go with the flow.See what happens.
     Somehow,I don't think the person upstairs can make as big a mess as I have with my life.Next life,he or she can be in charge.Well maybe on every other Tuesday,I could hand over the reins or at least once a month from eight am to 2PM. I'll see how it goes and maybe increase.........

And I thought I had my life planned out

        I always thought I would be living on our farm In Rayville,Louisiana. Thought I would get married and work beside my husband,ride horses together,round up the cattle for market,sit and watch the sunset over the trees and grow old together.BOY WAS I WRONG!The man I fell for hated the farm,was scared of the cattle,afraid to ride a horses, and wanted to live in town in an apartment He left me Christmas Eve after six years, with a four year old and pregnant with our second child, for a cute19 yr old he was having an affair with. I was the ripe old age of twenty-three.There I was in Alabama with nowhere to go.My dad sent me a plane ticket to come home.   My considerate spouse gave me a dollar to buy food and drinks for the kids.
       I don't talk about my second husband. Suffice it to say it was a colossal rebound error.
I was married to my third and final husband for twenty three years and had two more children.I thought I would happily spend the rest of my life with him.You guessed it.WRONG! I had two work related injuries and thought it was a great idea to move in with my daughter and son-in law and spend the rest of my life comfortable and secure. WRONG!
      I thought it would be a  great idea to move with them to Alaska for five years or so.WRONG!Now I loved Alaska,but it was sooo expensive to live there and it cost us a bundle to move there and back to the lower forty-eight after only three years.
     Now I am 65 and I thought I finally had a stable home.WRONG! Due to unforeseen circumstances, I can no longer work at my good paying job,the home I am sharing is soon to be gone, and I have backed myself into a corner in Louisiana.I thought I was smarter than this.WRONG!I write Romance Suspense, maybe I will be good enough to be published and have a good career in writing and actually make a living at it.Dear Lord,don't let me be WRONG AGAIN!

Arguing? vs Debate? vs Discussion?

     When does a discussion or debate become an argument? I think( and this is just my opinion,but since this is my blog it is the one that counts at present) a discussion is a give and take exchange of ideas,facts and thoughts.It can  become a debate when one person attempts to change the other persons viewpoint, opinion or to discredit them in some form or fashion.
    It is segueing into an argument when both or either person decides they don't necessarily want to exchange ideas and listen to the other person.They want to expound on their viewpoint and what they believe to be right.At some point one or both participants no longer hears or cares what the other is actually saying because each is too busy thinking about what they are going to say next,if either one is capable of rational thought at this point. Ridiculous statements are often made in the heat of the moment.
    The goal often  becomes to" one up the other person" and win the argument. Sometimes the original concept or theme of the discussion is entirely lost in the midst of a heated exchange and devolves into an irrational argument on both sides.  Sharing opinions and a lively debate is long gone and in it's place is the need to WIN the argument at all co because the other person is wrong!
     In a  worst case scenario,one person murders the other, a spouse walks out and files for divorce,or good friends never speak to each other again. Debates, discussions, and arguments can and do go horribly wrong.
They can also be invigorating and enlightening.So beware when you initiate or take part in a discussion,debate or argument.Irrational thoughts,ridiculous statements, misunderstandings, and unexpected outcomes, randomly and often do occur. Forewarned is forearmed. Say more than a few words to someone at your own risk.

The dead horse in the room

       There it is,THE DEAD HORSE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM!We all see it,but no one wants to be the first to say "Good God,there's a dead horse in the middle of the room!"Inevitably someone has to bring attention to it.Especially when the stench can no longer be ignored. Marital problems are often that horse and handled much the same way.A problem is obvious,but if ignored,maybe it will go away.
      I can say from personal experience,it won't.Acknowledging there is a problem can do one of two things.Bring attention to the problem,allowing the couple to talk about it and decide what to do to fix it or force them to realize the love is gone and it's time to part.
      Unfortunately sometimes,one partner is oblivious to the dead horse and the other is acutely aware of it.
 Couples therapy can help,but only if both partners want to commit to making changes and a lot of hard work. Both partners have to want it to work to make it happen.
      I was told by an ex,excuses,excuses,you can either make excuses or you can make it happen.
That being said,maybe things have just gone too far to make it happen,even if both partners try everything  to make it work.Some times you just can't bring the love back.When the end of the road is reached and a parting of the ways comes,it is usually the one left behind who suffers the greatest pain,but both partners are hurting.The end of a marriage is a DEATH, and a  death of dreams and hopes is painful even if it comes as a relief to one or both partners.
     Eventually the wounds heal and most move on. But scar tissue forms and can remain sensitive and painful for a very long time.Walking wounded of all ages,go about rebuilding their lives.They'll wake up and not feel guilt or pain. They will take what they learned from their mistakes, rebuild their lives and learn to trust in love again.

Thinking before speaking.

       I have no governor on my mouth much of the time.My brain thinks it and words spew forth at an alarming rate.Most of the time it turns out okay. But occasionally I hurt people I care about even though I think in the moment I am helping. I speak observations better left unsaid and push buttons better left un-pushed. I tell myself I am helping and they needed to be said.Why?Well because they don't realize they need help,right?
      or maybe it's because I like to hear myself talk and it makes me feel wise and important. I truly mean no harm and am contrite when called on the carpet by a friend. I am sorry for the words that make people feel uncomfortable,but words are arrows that can't be reclaimed until they strike a target.Hopefully,I learned a lesson today and will think before I speak.

Stress relief aides?

A lot of stress lately, internal,external,personal,family,money or lack thereof.I am handling it by reading favorite books,watching favorite movies,eating sugar free candy,iced sugar cookies from Kroger or Wal-Mart. Essentially I try to ignore all of it by not thinking about any of it. How is that working out for me,you may ask? As one would expect I am gaining weight,getting a sore butt and eye strain. But is the stress better? Well,no I can't say that it is;however,I now have three new things to stress over. Maybe if I keep adding new things to relieve the initial things I was stressed over,I'll eventual have such a long list,all I'll be stressed about is having such a long list and actually forget all the things I was stressed over to begin with.

NaNoWriMo

For non-writers this stands for National November Writing Month. The goal is to write 50,00 words in 30 days. Last year I signed up and finished with over100,000 words. I am still editing and revising that novel now. I signed up again this year,only to come down with some type of flu like virus a few days before November the first.Needless to say,I did not have an auspicious start. Actually I didn't start at all,other than a rough outline for a new novel.My intent is to start today,Nov.5th. I'll see how it goes.

Forgetful?

      I am sixty-five years old.I have no idea how that happened,but there it is.I am not senile but I am forgetful.Now in all honesty,I have always been forgetful. I remember things that are important to me,who I am,who my family and friends are.Where I was born,my childhood,everywhere I have ever lived,my traumatic school years,disappointing marriages,birth of my children,trips,and an astounding amount of pleasant and unpleasant memories.So why would anyone think I am senile just because I don't always remember who said what,what was discussed in conversations and information I am given concerning future appointments and events.
     I do not remember dates of appointments,balance in the bank,anything to do with numbers just does not stick in my head.My memory cells seem to reject numbers.  I know why,but it doesn't make explaining to people any easier or make them less skeptic.
   I was in my thirties when I was injured on the job and sent for a evaluation at a rehabilitation center. they tested for memory recall,IQ test and various other tests. At the end of the interview the man administering the tests,asked me if I minded performing several additional tests. I said I didn't mind and we proceeded.When we were done,he asked me if I had ever been told I was dyslexic.I laughed and said I had no problems reading
   I was reading,knew my colors, alphabet, and numbers by the age of four. He chuckled and told me there were many different types of dyslexia. Mine concerned numbers.I was dyslexic with numbers. he told me I would be considered to have a learning disability in math.Now that didn't change anything in my life,except help me understand why I had so much trouble when it involved math.I can do simple math,add subtract,divide,multiply on paper Almost nothing involving numbers sticks in my head,except simple addition and multiplication,such as 2+2=four,2x10=20 and that is about it. Most things I have to see on paper.Algebra,reading problems,etc. hopeless.Don't compute and won't stick in my head.Might as well be looking at Russian or Greek.

Well,I least I knew the reason for my lack of math skills. didn't help me to be better at math,but at least I had a reason why.So I continue to write down anything that concerns numbers and function fairly well.Now if  someone could tell me why I can not figure out how to navigate around Windows 7,attach a document to my hotmail, put a document in RFT format or the majority of other computer related tasks, I would be most grateful.I read the manuals but obviously I have a learning disability in Geek.

Letting go.

      This is not a pleasant topic,but one I know quite a bit about.I have been a nurse since 1966. I worked in several  hospitals as a licensed practical nurse before going back to school to become a registered nurse. I re-married, graduated, and took my state boards  in July of 1977.I worked as an RN,in postpartum,labor and delivery,nursery,adult,child psychiatry,post- traumatic stress unit,general medicine,drug and alcohol unit,general medicine,Neonatal intensive care unit, research study coordinator and for the last twelve years as a hospice nurse.(My favorite job).
      I noticed early in my career, most doctors and nurses avoided spending much time with dying patients.I understand they were more comfortable with patients who were going to make it.Not with the patients who were terminal.I gravitated toward those patients. I was drawn to them as a moth to a flame.I could feel their loneliness,pain and fear of the unknown. These were people who needed attention as much as the critical patients.hence I found Hospice and knew I had found my niche.
    What a privilege to be trusted to be with a family or someone at the end of their life and to be able to help the patient and their family through a very difficult time. To answer questions and help the patient and the family to let go.
     No one wants a loved one to die.It is hard for the family or the patient to decide to stop treatment and stop medications,even when they are no longer working.it helps to talk to someone who has been through the same thing and has the knowledge to answer questions, tell them what to expect, or find the answers they ask.
     I retired a few years ago with work related injuries.I miss my patients and their families. Maybe when I have fewer financial problems I can visit hospice patients and bring them and their very stressed families some comfort.No it is never easy to let go or realize it is time to let go of your on needs and allow a loved one to die with dignity.

October,memories and lost dreams.

I love the month of October. When I lived on our farm,it was my favorite time of the year.The hard work with the cattle was over,the crops were harvested,cotton picked and everything was ready for the winter.Northeast Louisiana winters can be cold and damp.There were still chores to be dine,cattle to be fed and looked after and hours of riding fences. It was hard work and I loved it all.My stepfather and I had my future planned.After high school I would attend,LSU   to become a large animal vet.I had a coveted scholarship already promised.
        Then I met  a gorgeous man.A freshman in college and a dead ringer for Elvis Presley. I was SMITTEN with a capitol S Of course being sixteen and in love for the first time,I only had thoughts of him. He hated the farm.he wanted a pretty girl for a wife.unfortunately I wasn't a social butterfly and he loved people and partying.I was too young and naive,knew nothing about scrimping and saving.Hell,my stepfather was a self made millionaire during a time when a million dollars was actually a fortune.
        I had the best of everything.     Clothes,money to spend,a gorgeous ranch house,shopping trips with what seemed at the time, unlimited spending and a devoted stepfather who doted on me.Twice a year we spent a weekend in New Orleans where he took me and my mother shopping at the best stores and dined at the best places. He was proud of me. I was the daughter he had always wanted.I was the wrong wife for Richard.He should have picked a society girl and I wish I had enough sense to realize I could not be what he wanted.In the end we were both miserable. In hind sight, I think I lost the most.I still mourn the loss of the farm and realize it was my own fault. It's a shame we can't have a do over.I'd be first in line.

more comments on writer's block and being a writer.

              First,let me say right up front.I don't think writer's choose their profession,the profession chooses them. Writers can't not write!I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't make up stories and direct my friends in acting act the story stuck in my young head. I was a bit of a tyrant.I loved to write,poems,stories,songs everything but term papers where the subject was chosen for me.I was such a rebel. I received an A on my senior term paper. However, my teacher had marked it down to a big red C- because I had chosen to write the paper with a twist. Including my interpretation of the story of the Scarlet Letter as a Poe/ Derleth like horror story.My stepbrother had introduced me to these wonderful authors when I was eleven,E.A.Poe,August Derleth,R.Heinlin, and others were writing Gods to me,still are.
             I've added many more since then:Nora Roberts,Anne Bishop,Stephen King,Jean Auel, ThomasHarris,J.D.Robb,Tolkien,Fitzgerald,Hemingway,Michael McDowell,Jane Austin,etc.I retired as a hospice nurse after thirty years and began to write. Oh how I loved writing my first novel,HOME AGAIN. based loosely on my life and how I wish it had turned out. I loved writing that book and the words and characters sprang to life under my two finger typing. I was and still am,very computer challenged.I can do basic things,but RTF format,attaching files,etc.baffle me.I struggle daily with my computer handicap.But I digress.Then I joined RWA(Romance Writers of America)
            A fantasic,supportive organization of writers,published and unpublished.Then the reality hit me of the Craft Of Writing. I had no idea there were rules in writing that transcended mere grammar and sentence structure.I began to read how to books.Plot points,sentence structure,acts 1,2 3. Character arcs,on and on. I was so overwhelmed I stopped writing for a weeks. I received wonderful feedback from members but it didn't help. For the first time in my sixty plus years,I could not face writing a word.Nothing would form in my head and the stories and words stopped.Then a wonderful member of RWA emailed me this message. Toss out the how to books and trust your instincts! How often did Austen,Poe,King,Fitzgerald,Tolkien,King or Shakespeare let a book tell them how to write.Find the place in your story that excites you and write! I did and still do.

Strange day!

      The day started off much as it does everyday.I woke up to sunshine and voices of my daughter getting my grandaughter ready for school.Happy voices, as Azalynn loves to go to school.However, October the thirteenth turned out to be a very strange day indeed! Mali, my medically retired Marine( there is no such thing as an ex-marine,I'm told,is also going to school.I'm not quite sure if she loves it or not.
      My son-in-law works a week on and week off schedule as a helicopter mechanic in Louisiana,where we are presently residing.Until the next move.i just go with the flow.That happens when one retires early for medical reasons and moves in with their adult children.But,I digress.
For reasons known only to the goblins living in my laptop,they have decided to play mind games with me. I cannot access my hotmail account. I received a phone call from a local pharmacy(one that I don't use to refill my medications)and when I tried to call them back I got a fax machine.
     I ate a bit of breakfast and tried my hotmail again.logged on and read a few of my 54 emails. then answered a few. left my desk to tell my son-in-law  goodbye and returned to my desk.Switched over to my gmail and got rid of a slew of ads for purchases for Viagra. Now my name is Pam,does that sound even remotely like a guys's name.well,maybe they think I have a husband in need of a boost.I wish!
    Now,I realize all of these things are just part of life's little aggravations,or at least I am telling myself this as I wander through the house after I cannot access my hotmail account again.Site says try again later.Won't even let me sign in again.I tried to send my entry into a writing contest and can't attach the first ten pages.I've been doing this successfully for a while now,but not today.I need my hotmail,which I can't access to send it.
   I need to drive to Walmart to pick up my medication;however,I'm not sure I want to drive a car or leave the house at this point.Maybe I'll wait until tomorrow.Could I have awakened the gremlin and goblins when I clicked on Halloween  for my computer theme? Perhaps. I may never know,since I'm not sure I want to go near my laptop at this point.I'll wait and let my son-in-law,Josh, check it out first. He's a computer whiz. Besides, he's bigger and stronger.

Once again I lament at my lack of computer skills.

      I decide to enter the Wallflower contest to get feedback on one of my completed manuscripts. I can attach a file,make a new document and have a shortcut on my desktop, and I can copy and paste, use spell check and double space a document. I've learned (with help from my computer savvy son-in-law Josh and my daughter Mali) how to do theses things. I cannot figure out how to make my manuscript in RTF format. What the hell is an RTF format anyway and why does my entry need to be in that format?
     While I am ranting I have a bone,actually an entire skeleton, to pick at the tutorials. I don't speak GEEK! I even bought a manual for dummies. Obviously I don't even qualify for dummy status.Oh well,I think I'll just stop here and change the look of my desktop again.
      I miss my old Apple computer. We understood each other,and I could navigate around it's programs fairly easily. My new Dell laptop is a muscle computer and obviously too macho for me.Oh,he's friendly enough,but on more than one occasion,I have heard him laughing at me.Maybe,I'll hire someone to come in and write down everything I need to know and  do in easy to read instructions customized just for me. A sort of personalized computer handbook.
     My four year old granddaughter will be up from her nap soon.She can show me how to get my mouse to work again.

We are mostly moved in!

        All of the unpacked boxes are sitting under the back porch,except for the ones scattered around the house waiting for someone to gather enough energy to unpack them. For the most part,they are not labeled with their contents,due to the mad rush to pack and leave Anchorage within a few days.
       Hopefully, we will find the energy to tackle those boxes in a few days.I sincerely hope,we are done with moving for a very long time. Twenty-five moves in my 65 yrs, is quite enough thank you.
       I certainly never consciously,planned to move so much. I don't think of myself as a nomad. I am more like a large tortoise,carrying my home around with me. Maybe I need to be living in an RV parked in the backyard. I could stay here and there,and move with everything intact when I needed or wanted to.
      I could still live with the kids,sort of, and be available to watch my granddaughter,babysit the house and animals when they go out of town,and give them more privacy.It just might work!
Well,for now I am just happy to be living with them,but the RV idea is certainly something to think about.

Moving day maybe and Guess I should be more specific in prayers.

Well tomorrow is possibly the day we start moving into the new rent house.Hopes are high to buy this place,but we'll see how things work out.We still have a lot of stuff to move out of storage. I believe Great Spirit put's me where I need to be. At least that's what I say in my prayers. I ask for the things that are in my highest and best interest to come to me. I think I should have been a little more careful in that prayer request. It seems that what Spirit deems in my best interest is not quite what I had in mine on this plane of existence. I was thinking more along the lines of good health,trim fit body,less wrinkles,more money and a really sexy love of my life man( think  Matthew Macfadyen as the powerful,rich,sensitive, Mr.Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. Six foot three,dark hair,blue eyes and gorgeous. Now that was what I was thinking and that is nowhere even near what I have been experiencing. I can only hope Great Spirit,God,whatever one chooses to call the Divine Being is saving the best for later. However;considering how fast time is flying,I'd really appreciate sooner than later or I won't be around.If there is a next life,I will be more specific.

Yet another move.

On September the 15th we will be moving into our new home.At least until the next move which I hope will be more than a few months away.Too many moves in my life.This will make number 25 in my 65 yrs.I never thought of myself as a nomad,even though I certainly have the genetic make up to be.Apparently my first traceable ancestor started somewhere around Egypt then migrated northwest toward Finland over to England settled and procreated in Ireland before moving on to the new world,America. Settled somewhere in North Carolina,procreated and headed west again to the Choctaw lands in Mississippi,married,procreated and moved east to Texas and finally settled in Arkansas,procreated, then up and moved again to Louisiana where they procreated and I was born of that union.So I suppose that explains my itchy feet every Fall season and my desire to purchase and live in an RV and travel around,living in a place for awhile then moving on until I feel the need to settle in one place. What is that one place,you ask? I hope I will know it when I find it. If not,I suppose my home and I will just keep traveling until we make that final journey. I do help Heaven covers a lot of territory  for me and my RV to travel.I suppose I am a bit of a nomad after all. Between you and me,I'd planned to live in a nice home on our farm in Rayville,Louisiana for my entire life.Seems life had other plans for me.

Labor Day

      Labor Day in the 40's to 60's announced the official end of the lazy days of summer.At least it did in the small town in northeast Louisiana where I grew up. Backyard BBQ's, a day at the beach,neighbor hood block parties were common and enjoyed.This day portended the mostly dreaded beginning of  another school year. New school clothes were usually bought and hanging ominously in closets and tucked away in dresser drawers. New shoes pinched feet used to the bliss of being bare.School supplies waited patiently in backpacks.Bicycles tires were aired and ready for the dreaded trip to the local schoolyard.parents were grinning an obsessive amount and kids,not so much. Bullies anticipated finding new victims or harassing the old. Girls picked out their prettiest outfits and boys growled at the stiffness of their new jeans and the starch in their shirts.Teachers girded their loins for yet another new group of rowdy children trying to make it through yet another year  until summer. Few children,except for the nerds, actually admitted liking school. Most were glad to renew friendships, make new friends and  discuss our summers,at least until the dreaded words out of the teachers mouth.
        "Settle down and write a paper on what you did this summer. We'll read them out loud when you are finished. Tomorrow we'll have a math test to see how much you forgot over the summer.
       That's when you knew summer was really over!
     

Do two parents raise a healthier child and would you like a do over?

       I just watched a movie about a grieving father trying to raise his two sons alone. Now,he does the best he can and makes lot's of mistakes. Good lord, two parents raising their children make a lot of mistakes,but the difference is they have someone to watch their back. Children need two parents.Preferably a father and a mother.I think they need the balance of male and female energy. I'm not saying two same sex parents can't raise healthy,happy children. I firmly believe children are emotionally and mentally healthier and better able to cope with life when they have a mentally healthy,emotionally mature mother and father as role models raising them.
    That being said, I had neither.I had a mentally ill,alcoholic,war veteran for a father and a bitter emotionally distant mother until I was eleven.Then my mother married her wealthy boss and spent the next twenty five years of her life basking in her prestige and home full of expensive possessions.
    I grew up in the midst of this household,dearly loved by my stepfather and basking in his attention.I learned possessions,wealth,prestige meant everything. Then I married a stocker in a grocery store,because he was gorgeous and drove a fancy car. Six years and two babies later I had only the two dependent babies and moved back home.I didn't know how to be poor again, raise two babies by myself or how to cope. I survived. I worked hard and remarried but I had no idea how to love, how to believe in love or how to be a giving partner.
   I ended up,having two more children,raising four children with the help of my husband and being fairly happy for twenty three years. Now I am alone,older and wiser when it is too late.. Would I have been better prepared and more emotionally stable with two loving mentally and emotionally stable parents? I think so,but I'll never know. It's a shame God doesn't give us a do over. Would I do better? I like to think so. Would you take a do over if you could?

password/account recovery nightmare

I do not claim to be computer savvy.However,I can usually get where I want and need to be.For the last few days I discovered I could not post on my own blog.It seems I misplaced in my memory files not only the email info,password,user account whatever magical information I need somewhere in cyber space.Catch 22 situation,one needs the old password to obtain a new password. I think you can see where this is headed.After a frustrating few days I have managed to stumble into this place. The good news is I can post this comment. The bad news is I have no idea how I got her or how I get back here again.This may be my last post until I stumble (by accident)into this place again.Wish me luck!

Taking a break from writing.

I'm tired today. Maybe tired is the wrong word,perhaps I should use the word,lazy. Much more appropriate for a day where I did very little writing. Actually,I have done no revisions on my newest novel in weeks.I'm calling it a break. It took me over a year to write it and think I just need a break from it and the characters. How long should  a break be. Two weeks,two months,a year? There is no set time for a break. Maybe three to ten years might be a bit much,but whatever works for a writer is all that matters.I'm not sure I would be able to muster a lot of enthusiasm for a book I'd written so long ago. Or maybe I would return to it with fresh new eyes and create a masterpiece. I prefer to focus on the latter. Happy writing.

Writers block?

         I have read about writer's bloc. Horror stories about staring at a blank page and the words won't come. I confess I've not had that experience;however, I seem to have a variation on writer's block.
        I call the monster 'Revision Block'. Staring at a completed manuscript at least twice,maybe three times a day and nothing,absolutely nothing can induce me to type more than a new sentence or two. Perhaps change a word here and there,but I am not fooling myself. I am merely changing how I am saying something the majority of the time. Am I actually making the story better? Did I improve on the character's arc/ is the plotting better. Did I follow the three act formula? Did I use the six core competencies? Is my hook good enough? Did I show,not tell? Are my plot points in place? Did I end each scene with a conflict?Did the final battle end with a resolution? Is that deep POV?Did I head hop? Are my characters likeable,will the reader care about their struggles? Did I..Aarrrrrghhh...I don't know. Enough already!
         Am I an insane masochist for even attempting to be a writer? Possibly,no probably.All I know is my characters come to me and ask me to write their stories and bring them to life on paper. 
They tell me what to say,how to say it,and where they want to go. Sometimes they surprise me,enchant me or bring me to tears.But never do they bore me or desert me and for that I am grateful. After all we are in this together until the end.
       I miss them when they move on. I like to see them happy, however things don't always work out that way for each of them. Some are killed,some walk away hand in hand with their true love. Some turn out to be serial killers,liars or cowards. All I know for sure is they rarely bore me and they don't let me down. 
      Writers block? Thank God,no.I trust my three muses to keep that from happening.I do wish;however, they would assist with sentence structure,word tenses,spelling, grammar issues and revisions.
       I will be very glad when they return from vacationing in Ireland and I have to admit to being  a bit annoyed,that I wasn't invited to join them.I suppose someone had to stay home and finish the novel
     It seems I was elected. No one informed me,we were even voting. Apparently,being the writer is not part of fairness in the workplace rule,nor is writing any part of a democracy. Maybe, I should vote myself, King or Queen and change all the rules to suit myself. I wonder where I lost control and how do I get it back,if I ever had it.
    Could I stop writing? I don't think so. I can't not write. My fingers twitch and new characters whisper in my head until I sit down at the computer or pick up a pen or pencil and begin to write their story.

Writing

      I thought I would talk a bit about writing,since I aspire and strive to be not only a writer,but a great writer.Hey we can all hope and dream.I write romance suspense as a rule. Have two finished novels,the latest in the second rewrite. I have learned that writing the story is fairly easy,rewriting,editing and polishing is a BITCH!
     A week ago my daughter approached me about writing down the childhood fairy tales and short stories I made up and  told her at bedtime and turning them into a Children's book.Well, we sat down and with pen in hand I began to write.With some input from her,I began to create I began to create Fey characters living in a magical forest.Together we came up with  names of five characters and their general descriptions. She took that info and sketched pictures.
    For  two weeks now I have agonized over writing these simple stories. The idea is to write the stories so each is complete and take no more that five to fifteen minutes to read each separate story.There are five main characters.  POV varies with each story. Other Fey creatures will be introduced along the way.Each story ties into the other. They are made to be read to the younger children,the older child would be able to read them with minimal help with some words. Sounds simple doesn't it.
   OH MY GOD!! I had no idea how hard it would be to switch from writing a 150,000 word  novel to writing a a series of very short stories. I keep slipping into novel mode.I now have four stories written and decide they suck.I was ready to throw them out and start over,until my wise beyond her years daughter,Mali picked one up and said."Mom,let me read it like I would read it to Azalynn(my incredibly awesome 4 yr old granddaughter).
  I cried. The story wasn't awful.It was actually good.She turned and looked at me and said."Mom you read the story like a writer.I read the story as a parent reading to her child.
  Needless to say,Scrumble,Bluster, Blargle, Phillip,Teddy, and Becky's adventures will be told and I hope enjoyed by many for years to come. DREAM AS THOUGH THE DREAM WILL COME TRUE.

What the Hell happened? Or how I became an invisible person.

Oh how I looked forward to the day I could retire and pursue my dream of making and selling my woodcarvings and writing wildly popular novels,which would be snapped up by a well known publishing house and sold for enough money to support me. I would then purchase a modernized cottage facing the windswept cliffs and  seacoast of Ireland with the mountains almost in my backyard and continue to pursue both of my lucrative professions.Of course that was far into the future, as I was a fairly healthy woman of sixty something.Then I injured my knees at work at needed some surgery to repair the damage. Recovered, I headed back to work. Re-injured my left knee,which required a total knee replacement. Okay,no problem,I'm mostly healthy. I can do this. I  injured my right shoulder and had to have an excruciatingly painful surgery which left me with fifty percent use of my left arm. Overhead lifting was gone for good with that arm.I returned to work and discovered I had so many restrictions I was no longer able to do my job efficiently. Also my injured knee was increasingly painful. My knee cap had shifted and was pressing against nerves I didn't know I had.At that point I was almost broke,even with medical insurance and disability payments I had  paid a lot out of pocket and ran out of paid medical leave and vacation and sick time.I discovered that bending,stooping,lifting, reaching anything over my head and even braiding my own hair, was a thing of the past At this point I had seemed to have no choice but to retire and move in with my adult daughter and her family.I began to draw social security checks after the disability checks ran out. I was not wise or prudent with my savings. However,not all was my doing. We, spent a lot of money moving to Alaska where my kids found well paying jobs. Then the job played out and we spent a lot of money moving to Anchorage and then   back to the lower 48.I realized and not for the first time,I had made some really unwise decisions that seemed great at the time.
        So that is an abbreviated version of how I came to be an invisible person. Oh I still write,but I had no clue as to how much learning the craft of writing was going to take and how hard it is to get published. So I sit in my room,read books and write.Will I ever get to Ireland or be a great writer and have an agent and have books published. Welll..,let's just say that miracles do happen every day and leave it at that.

Frustrations run Amok!

Okay. I am in Louisiana and my car is being held hostage in Anchorage,Alaska for 2,300.00 dollars. Actually it is going to cost me that amount to have it shipped here. So I decided to sell it on Craig's List. I think some of the people have mistaken this car for a garage sale item. Sigh!I can't get a job because I have no car. I have no car until I have a job. I can't get a loan because I have no credit history. Silly me, I don't buy an item until I can pay for it . My last two cars were bought with cash. Yes, how foolish to think being a responsible person would count for something in today's society.I don't like buying on credit. Anything could happen to leave me strapped for cash and scrambling to make those cursed payments. Fellow humans, we live in a Catch 22 world. Ain't it a shame.

workshop mania

       Can a person overload on trying to learn the craft of writing. I vote YES. I have enrolled in four online workshops. It is true I can lurk,but what is the point of taking the workshops if you don't participate. I would probably learn from reading others posts, but I would get no feedback on my work. So I will burn the midnight oil and keep up with the posting of assignments,lessons or snippets. whatever the instructor calls for. I do love to write and learn. Most writers,agents and such tell novice writers that in order to be a better writer you must write. I want to be a great writer,therefore I have a great deal of writing to do.
       I will always remember what my band instructor told us one hot summer afternoon, after we had butchered and plodded our way through the music  for our upcoming school program repeatedly. All we wanted to do was go home that Friday afternoon. our minds were on swimming,making out at the local park and other teenage pursuits.Exasperated he eyed our restless bored faces and shook his head.
"Contrary to popular belief,practice does not make perfect boys and girls. Only perfect practice makes perfect."

As you can see I digressed a bit,however, I understand what he meant. Okay,Okay. I have to admit I never quite understood what he meant,but I suppose he meant that merely repeating something over and over will not improve ones ability unless you commit to making it better each time. Only then will it be as good as you can possibly make it. Hopefully at some point it will become as perfect as you can make it. so I will learn,study,write and rewrite. Maybe I'll be the next King,Roberts,Hemingway,Fitzgerald or Shakespeare,maybe I'll be even better.

Firefly. Why was it cancelled?

Recently I discovered this series. Basically it is a buddy movie,space western. What makes it excellent is the interplay  between the misfit crew.Premise, post apocalyptic war for freedom. Earth pretty much destroyed. Rebels in space ship travel to different worlds stealing, smuggling, and fighting everyone else. It has horses, cowboys,stolen cattle, six shooters, futuristic weapons,nasty bad guys,pretty women,hunky guys, a gorgeous courtesan, and occasionally nudity.What's not to like? Apparently not enough people agree with me that it was a great show. I've read the various reasons why it did not survive and I expect they are partially correct. It seems the network, itself,set the series up for failure. Shame on them. I think Josh Whedon is a genius. The show was great entertainment and I'm glad I had the opportunity to watch. 

Be careful what you wish for.

       Have you ever wished for something and gotten it only to realize it wasn't what you really wanted? A home by the ocean only to have everything gone in a hurricane. The speedy little sports car only to be injured in a one car crash. My wish was to be retired and alone to do whatever I wanted.Watch movies,read,shop,perfect my woodcarving skills and write novels. I suppose I should have been more specific: The retirement wish should have included, good health,enough money to pay for all of my needs, and some of my wants.  Write GREAT  novels that are loved by a wonderful agent who wants to represent my work and sells to a popular publishing house here they become, popular for years,and  make money.
      I got my wish to be retired after four work related injuries. I now get by with social security checks and hope my novels will be published and sell eventually. Oh and I am living with my daughter and her family now. Guess I should have mentioned the alone part was to be in my own home and not in a bedroom in one of my children's homes. At least they love me( for now).However, I was thinking more along the lines of a cozy cottage in Ireland or at least in a little cottage close to my children. Damn,should have been more specific.However,I am fortunate I stopped wishing before things became much,much worse.
       Read the Monkey's Paw when you get the chance. There is no such animal as the perfect wish!

Not my usual lighthearted,tongue in cheek, post.

         Sharon drove me back to Sulphur,La. today. Good to see my family and my wonderful granddaughter again,but I will sorely miss having my best friends to talk to. My closet friends are in Texas, so I am torn between my  friends,Sharon,Sandy,Mark, and Mary's company, and my family.
       My question is who do you confide in the most?Husband,wife,best friend,your dog, a random stranger held captive for a brief moment in time or the guy on the street corner holding a will work for food but prefer money sign? If you must choose between family, by blood or marriage, and a family of friends you have chosen and to whom you confide all your secrets, who would you choose to be with the majority of the time?
        Seems like a no brainer doesn't it? But,is it? What if no one was left alive who knew you when you were growing up? Would you feel like an orphan? It hits me at random moments,that is precisely what I am now. One shouldn't outlive parents,grandparents,aunts ,uncles,majority of cousins, siblings and one of their children.Is it a gift to be able to see them all at the end of their lives or a curse to out live them all?
        Life is hard and rarely fair,but the alternative is not something I care to rush into.Ahh well, I suppose I have been morose long enough.Tomorrow I will undoubtedly return to my lighthearted, hopefully entertaining posts.  Maybe I'll talk about books,recipes, list my favorite sexy men in the movies or tell a funny story. Check back and see.

frustration with a capitol F

Daddy always told me you have to have money to make money. True. I have learned you have to have credit to get credit. I pay with a debit card,safer and more convenient to keep track of than money. I find myself in a situation of needing a loan to have from car shipped from out of state. What stops me from being approved? You got it!The bank says  I have no credit history,therefore, I don't qualify. the credit card company says I don't have any credit history from a major source so I don't qualify for a credit card or a loan.Can you say Catch 22? My car and I will not be united for some time.

You found my blog. Make a comment.

Well I'm back in Louisiana after living in Alaska for three years. Talk about culture and climate shock. Not very productive with writing last few weeks. The characters from my new idea for a fantasy series are starting to tap on the door of my scrambled brain.got to go for now .talk to you later.pam

Agents and Other Stuff.

      To Query or not to Query. Ahh,that is the question. Whether tis noble...okay enough of that. Thank you very much Mr. Shakespeare for your quotable quotes. Speaking of notable quotes. what are some of your favorite quotes. I have many. "Ovaltine?"from Young Frankenstein." and Cancel Christmas" I believe from  Robin Hood,Men in Tights. "We're gonna need a bigger boat" from JAWS.Too many to count but you get the picture.
    Back to my original thought. I have two finished manuscripts, one partially finished and a first time fantasy novel I'm outlining now. Dabbling with the idea of an erotic paranormal short story.As you can tell,I am very good at procrastination.
    Oh look an eagle is circle in the sky outside my window.I love living in Alaska. Yesterday we passed two moose grazing on the side of the highway. Last week we had a moose in our backyard.
   Can you say ADHD?
   Did I mention I received the resluts back from the Golden Acorn contest? I received a score of 7.5 out of a possible 10.5. I didn't think the score reflected the degree to which the judges hated my submission. Unlikeable hero and heroine in an abusive relationship. MS filled with grammatical errors. Had to force themselves to keep reading. Sigh.they did encourage me to learn the craft of writing before submitting anything again. I thought that was a positive note. At least they did not suggest  I  never write another word!
    I hope to make this blog more interesting at some point. Add comments section,pretty pictures of fairies,puppies,gorgeous half naked men, scantily clad buxom women and photos of me doing "writerly" things. Then again maybe not. I have to coerce and bribe my son-in-law and daughter to do the tech work. I am soooo computer illiterate. I guess I need my name somewhere on this blog and maybe my pen name too.    Pamala D. Owldreamer,yes that is my actual name and no I do not write "Indian stories". I write romance suspense and Fantasy/Paranormal under the pen name,E.P. Caldwell.Maybe I'll have some followers to my blog if I update and make it more interactive. Maybe not? Til next time.

Aging.

Now isn't that a depressing subject on a cold, gray day. My thoughts wandered to something my mother said one morning while she was getting dressed for work. I loved her huge dressing room and would wander in and sit on the floor while she dressed and did her make up. On this particular morning she was in one of her black Irish moods. If you have a drop of Irish in you, you'll know what I mean. She sighed heavily and inspected her face in the mirror.
"You know Pam, I don't feel any different than I did when I was twenty. Then I walk by a mirror or see a refection in a window and I wonder who is that old lady?
Momma pierced my heart with the pain and sadness reflected in her blue gray eyes when she looked at me. When she spoke her voice was soft, wistful and full of incredible sadness.
" Then I realize it's me."
I turned sixty five just before Christmas and for the first time I understood what Momma was saying that day almost fifty years ago. Only now that old lady in the mirror is me.

Writing

Finished one manuscript and still rewriting and editing. Planning on entering it in a few contests. need something to put in my query to agents. Don't think they will be impressed that I won first place in a writing contest in High school and got to read my poetry and an excerpt from my short story on a local television station in Monro,La.. Same goes with the distinction of having the most poetry published in our school journalism, publication the Quill and Scroll. Class of 1963. Good lord I don't feel that old.