Why I Write What I Write

I blog differently than most bloggers. I read countless blogs by writers writing about writing. They write about their struggles with passive voice, tag lines, dialogue, social media, etc. They will write about discovery, lack of discovery, the difference between being a writer and being an author, the use or not of the Oxford comma. They write about being accessible to their readers. But it seems to me, that the readers of these blogs are writers wanting to know how so-and-so solved this problem or how they handled a bad review on Goodreads (see last weeks blog on Sticks and Stones). These are not readers per se. This is the same as one group of musicians singing to another group of musicians. Where is the audience?

The general advice is not to be political in a blog so you don't offend and turn off people with opposing views. Don't talk about anything controversial like politics, religion, cultural taboos. I had one person tell me not to write so much about my Little Man. "Too much toddler" was his exact comment. Well, pppthbt to you. If I take out all of those things this is what my blog would look like:

It is a sunny day today! Will have to go out and enjoy it and perhaps weed the garden for a little while.

This is assuming I don't alienate those people who prefer rainy days or can't go outside or those people who don't have a garden to weed or those who are partial to weeds and believe organized gardening is evil. The point is, there will always be some one or some group who won't like what I say, how I say it, or just don't like me in general. Know what? I don't care.

I write about my life. If I'm struggling with writing, I'll write about it. If Little Man has been the focus on my life due to a struggle we're having or something charming he's been doing then I will write about it. If there is something particularly irritating in the news, guess what, I'll write about it. I don't have a niche. I don't have a specific group. All I have is an opinion and a life.

One thing I promise, is that whatever I do write, it's genuine. I will always write from the heart. I will always question with as much logic as possible. And I hope, that whoever does enjoy what I write, will recognize that what's here is truly me.

Snow!

I grew up in Rhode Island so I'm no stranger to snow. It's pretty and white and wet and cold and slippery and when it melts it makes mud everywhere. Get enough snow and it has to be shoveled off the driveway and brushed off cars. It's heavy. I do like snow and there's nothing more fun than an old fashioned snowball fight, except winning a snowball fight. There's building igloos and snow forts and sledding and making money by shoveling people's driveways for them. Snow, as a kid, was always great fun. Then there are the snow days when school was cancelled. Of course, in Rhode Island that had to be a substantial amount of snow since it wasn't an odd occurrence and we were usually prepared for it, expected it. I have lots of snow memories, the most pronounced is the Blizzard of '78.

I lived in Florida for most of my adult life and it doesn't snow there. Then my husband and I moved to Virginia and it snows occasionally there. We'd get flurries and a few inches about once or twice a winter. It wasn't until I was pregnant that we got a REALLY BIG snow fall. It didn't matter since I was too nauseated to go anywhere. I practically hibernated that winter anyway. Then we moved to Georgia.

Our first winter in Georgia and we had a snow. Not a big snow. Mostly ice and it was gone a day or two later. This is our fourth winter in Georgia and it snowed again! This time we actually got an accumulation of about 3 inches and Little Man is old enough to enjoy it.

Photo by LeeAnn Rhoden

We made snow balls, we made trails through the snow, we drew in it with sticks, we made a snow castle and then stomped on it. We went out in the morning and then again in the afternoon after our mittens dried out. Today, the snow is mostly ice and it will be gone by this afternoon. I just hope that it lasted long enough to engrave an image on Little Man's heart so he can look back fondly on snow memories.

Yenta

I am a collector. I collect interesting things. I don't collect knick-knacks or bobbles or commemorative plates and coins. I do collect books but that is righteous and hardly considered a collection - more like a beginning library. Anyway, what I collect is information. This usually take the form of business cards and take-out menus.

In a recent "The Kill Zone" blog, James Scott Bell posted about discoverability. It's an interesting look at being successful as a writer. In a nut shell it talks about how writing is hard, marketing is easy, and discoverability is our of our hands. And he's right. To be successful at whatever we want to do we have to be discovered. We can shout as loudly as we can from the tallest mountain we can climb about how great we are or how great our product is, but until someone listens and buys what we're selling, it means nothing.

What I've found during my lifetime is that getting your needs fulfilled is hard if you don't know where to look. It used to be that if you needed a plumber you let your fingers do the walking and checked the yellow pages. Now you can go online and search for ratings, or comments on Angie's List (provided you don't mind paying for a subscription AND they have a site in your area). I have found that the BEST way to get a reputable plumber or electrician or a recommendation for a good restaurant is by word of mouth. What businesses, and really all of us, need is not more marketing, they need networking - matchmaking.

Image by digitalart
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Wherever I've lived I've paid attention to what people say, collect business cards and other tidbits that are of interest. It helps that I'll talk to anyone about anything. (It also helps if you live in an area where people actually are willing to share information.) That way if I overhear someone needing a plumber, I can pipe up and suggest one. Need an electrician? I have one of those too. A clock repair man? Yup. Need trees removed? I have a recommendation. For a business, a good reputation and recommendations are the key to survival if not growth.

It's that way with regular people too. Sometimes we just need to be matched with the right church, parent group, or whatever. So, if someone offers you a business card or suggests something, pay attention and give it a try. You may be surprised to find that the best match isn't made by the biggest marketing budget. Listen to the Yenta.

Lessons at the Point of a Knitting Needle

photo and mitten
by LeeAnn Rhoden

I learned to knit about a year and a half ago. It was something I always wanted to learn how to do but just never sat my butt in a chair and did it. Then I learned about the knitting and crocheting group our church has on Wednesday nights. I do crochet so I thought I'd join and lend my hands to the projects of making prayer scarves for the Confirmands, prayer shawls for those in the hospital, baby blankets for newborns, and scarves and hats and mittens for the homeless and those in need. It was in this class I learned to knit.

I was taught by a woman who had been knitting for several years and since that time I've actually been able to teach new-comers how to knit and/or crochet depending on their desire. I have even been added to our local Joann's Fabrics instructors list to teach knitting and crocheting. Now all we have to do is get people to sign up for the classes!

Knitting and crocheting are needle arts that have been around for centuries, and probably millenniums. It is a craft that is passed from one person to another, and over time more often than not, woman to woman. Knowledge about the size of the needles, the size of the yarn, the patterns, the combination of stitches and twists, to take a ball of yarn and turn it into a sweater, or blanket. Something that is greater than its parts.

It reminds me of story telling. Weaving this way and that way, combining a knit with a purl give the fabric a more stretchy quality, yet strand knitting allows for beautiful Nordic patterns. And if you pull a few stitches off to the side and replace them at just the right point in just the right way you create beautiful cables and Celtic knots. Creating the right plot and subplots and intertwining them bringing in characters, back story and details a precisely the right moment and you have a magical tale. I can envision groups of ladies gathered together knitting and telling stories.

Knitting has also taught me several life lessons. First, knitting can be easy. A straight knit back and forth can quickly and easily become a scarf. Make it wider and longer and it's a blanket. Knitting is also tedious and can be boring. It takes time and patience. Second, making it more interesting by adding purls or cables or knots or stripes requires that you pay attention. One dropped stitch and you have a hole in the middle of your fabric. It's not easy to pay attention on one project that can literally take months to complete. Third, the more you knit, the more you want to do it and the more complex the projects become. A sweater, an intricate blanket, a hat knitted in the round.

But I also learned that it is the small things that become the most befuddling. A simple mitten can bring a grown woman to tears. I attempted mittens for Little Man since it got cold and he didn't have a pair. My first attempt was, well, garbage.  My second mitten was much better. I'm working on a mate for the second mitten. I'm not discouraged. Practice makes perfect, or better anyway. In time I will create my own mitten pattern, adding my part of the story to the women who come after me.

Namaste

Image by samarttiw
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Yesterday I went to my first yoga class. I've decided to try yoga as a way of stretching and limbering up muscles that have become less limber with time and as a no-impact exercise that won't irritate my back but instead, strengthen my back. The class I signed up for is the easiest class, a beginner class. This means that there were a lot of old people in the class. This is fine with me since I am, ahem, over 35. Even so, the class was fairly strenuous and I actually worked up a glow (I don't sweat).

What I discovered is that I am actually more limber and flexible than I thought. I have a few trouble areas, but for the most part, I think this will help stretch out those stiff areas. The problem I have is balance. This is not a surprise considering that for 23 years I've had a spine out of alignment and my body has been compensating by creating its own "balance." My hope is that with this class helping to strengthen my core muscles and my chiropractor keeping me aligned, I'll be able to get back to normal.

The key is balance. Not just physiological balance, or physical/environmental balance, but balance in life. Yes, keeping a schedule is necessary and my schedule is nothing if not busy. Rarely does a day go by that I'm actually able to complete everything on my list of things to do. But part of balance is being able to let myself not finish my tasks so I can take Little Man to run in the park. There will always be another day to work. Balance between tasks, hobbies, enjoyment, obligations, likes and dislikes. In balance there is peace and in peace there is creativity. Namaste.

Which Would You Choose?

There is a question floating around on social media sites asking what power you'd prefer to have. The choices are fire starter, telepathy, or time travel. Hmmm..... Well, I can see all sorts of applications for fire starting. That might even be fun, well, not for what (or who) is being set on fire, but I'd giggle. Telepathy would have been a useful thing to have in my early years, or while dating, but now I really don't care what other people think. But time travel seems to be both fun AND useful.

Image from Time Machine

I don't know what the parameters are of time travel, not having read enough science fiction, but from what I've been able to deduce from Jules Verne and Back To The Future it seems like anything you do to change/alter the past effects the future. I'll keep that rule because it is reasonable. I also don't know what form it would take be it a Victorian sleigh or a Delorean but it doesn't really matter as long as it doesn't take up too much room.

So, what would I use the time machine for? All sorts of things. Like that time I said something stupid and didn't mean to - I'd go back in time and not say it. Maybe I'd be a better dresser or make different decisions. Maybe there are people I'd be kinder to, or treat differently. I love my life the way it is, so I wouldn't want to change how it turned out, so I'd want to be absolutely sure to not stray too far from the path that lead me here.

Aside from the theoretical, my time machine would be working everyday. First, I'd get done the things that I have to do like house work. I could spend the day cleaning, doing laundry, going to the grocery store, cooking, etc. And then once the chores are done, let's say at 4:00, I can go back in time to do the things I want to do like writing, knitting, needlepoint, etc. My question is, once it is 4:00 again, will the house be suddenly clean and all my projects done? Hmmm.... Maybe it is better if the time machine would make time stand still so everything could get done and THEN time could move one. Sort of like a treadmill. But not.

Image by John Kasawa
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I don't know if a time machine would actually work for me. Maybe I'd be better off with telekinesis. That way I could just think about cleaning the house and watch the beds make themselves, the dishes load themselves into the dish washer, the vacuum run on its own (I so want a Rumba). What power would you want and why?

Let The Sunshine In

One of the projects we have to do at our fixer-upper house is landscaping. There was an abundance of incorrect landscaping and an abundance of "what is that?" landscaping. We tore out the old, dead, leggy, overgrown shrubs and replaced them with new plants. Some areas we cleared out all together. Still, there was the issue of the trees. We have huge pine trees in the front of the house that shade our house and hide it from view. Alas, the cost of removing the trees was HUGE so we decided to put it off until we could save enough pennies, well, dollars. Still, even with the yard work that we've done, it made a huge improvement with the curb appeal. So, lacking the stack of dollars necessary to make the BIGGEST impact, we turned our attention for this year back to the interior renovations.

Nature, however, had a different plan. One of the five trees decided to start leaning toward the house. Understandable with all the rain we've had this year and pines being shallow rooted things to begin with. Then, to make its intentions clear, the tree leaned more and decided to show its root ball. Needless to say, we hired a company to remove the tree. Actually, we had to remove two trees - we had to remove one to get to the leaning one. Yes, of course we asked the HOA for permission to remove it since it does effect the exterior of the house. The trees were removed on Saturday and approval to have the trees removed came on Monday. I'm so glad.

It is amazing the amount of light that now comes into the house. Our master bedroom, which was always dark, is now bright and cheery. I don't have to turn on a light to put laundry away in the middle of the day. The front of our house is visible from the street and our new shrubs get not just morning light, but morning and early afternoon light as well. The down side is not I can see that I need to sweep and dust in the front rooms.

My point is, is that just the removal of one (or two) obstacles can shed light on things that were previously hidden. That's what I'm doing with my revisions. I realized that part of the gaping holes in my novel were obstacles that I had placed on myself. I'm removing those and moving forward with revisions, and yes, the prequels to the series I envision.

Another New Day, Another New Year

Image by Stuart Miles
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It's New Year's Day and thus a day to hang out in front of the fireplace and watch football between naps and meals. Many people stayed up to watch a ball (or some other symbolic object) drop, drink irresponsibly, and then made resolutions on how they're going to change their lives for the better. Some others rose with the sun and greeted the new day and new year with coffee and renewed energy to make resolutions on how they're going to change their lives for the better.

I did not stay up. I did wake up when the neighbors set off fireworks to ring in the New Year. I did not get up at dawn, but I was woken up when the Little Man came to me because he wet the bed. I started the day with roughly five hours of sleep. That's alright, I don't need to be coherent since I don't make resolutions. I do, however, set goals.

Image by pakorn
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This year's goals are ambitious. For kicks and giggles here are a few of them:

1. Teach Little Man to dress himself.
2. Teach Little Man table manners - or at least how to eat with utensils.
3. Teach Little Man how to read and write.
4. Complete front yard curb appeal of the house - with the exception of taking down the big trees.
5. Complete the "easy" renovations of the house. "Easy" means that only wallpaper needs to be removed or minor drywall repairs need to be done. The "MAJOR" renovations, like the kitchen or bathrooms, will be another time.
6. Put in a vegetable garden.
7. To FINISH my revisions/rewrite on my novel and to finish the other one I've been nibbling at.
8. To organize my writing schedule and stick to it.
9. To get to the gym.
10. To finish my knitting projects before starting a new one.
11. To organize my craft/project schedule and stick to it.

It is ambitious if you take the list as a whole. But each new day begins a new year and a whole new opportunity to catch up on the list, add to the list, or subtract from the list. Focusing on only one goal at a time makes it a little easier to complete. I don't worry about whether or not my goals, meeting them or not, will change my life for the better. My life is perfect the way it is.

Santa and Archeology

Image from www.free-extras.com

We took Little Man to see Santa Claus the other night so he could tell Santa what he wants for Christmas. We watched and smiled and gave each other smug grins and elbow taps with each item Little Man said he wanted. Then he said something new. "I want a kitchen," he said. Not just an added item as an after thought. NO. He said it with enthusiasm. Husband and I looked at each other and mouthed "Kitchen?" Needless to say, husband spent time fighting traffic and crowds looking for a kitchen to add to Santa's gifts. Don't want to disillusion Little Man at such an early age.

Tonight Santa comes and he will deposit gifts under the tree that will be added to the number of things that parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles have already placed there. Even without Santa, Little Man has a lot of stuff. Perhaps too much stuff. And really, he has waaaayyyy too much stuff when it is combined with the stuff he already has. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to deprive my Little Man of the things he needs or even wants, but there comes a time when enough is enough. I can tell his grandparents and aunts and uncles to only give him clothes and socks because he outgrows them overnight. What he gets is who knows what. Well, we'll know tomorrow. All I know is when I shake a box, it rattles. Socks don't rattle.

It's fine, really because just as quickly as he out grows his clothes, he out grows his toys. The problem is getting him to relinquish the toys he no longer plays with. He likes to keep all things that belong to him. It's not his fault. He comes from two parents who have sentimental attachments to their stuff too. We're getting better but we're not yet at the point where we can easily just let something go. My sister has mastered the "minimalist" life-style. We are still trying to simply stay off the show Hoarders.

Image from
commons.wikimedia.org

Which brings me to the next holiday that's right around the corner - Purge Day. While most people are making their New Year's resolutions (which I don't do), I'll be cleaning out the cupboards, closets and drawers. The first thing to tackle will be the Little Man's old toys. This is equivalent to an archeological dig and actually does require the assistance of several post- graduate interns.

It's not just deciding which toys stay, and which toys go, they must first be reassembled into their original and intended form with all original parts in tact and in place. Only then can the toys be triaged: cleaned and given to the church or friends, or discarded. Since Little Man is creative and uses parts interchangeably from toy to toy and then puts the "left over" parts in various boxes, bags, totes and pockets, the reassembling of his toys is on the magnitude of reconstructing Pompeii.

Until Purge Day it is time to just enjoy the toys and the paper and boxes and the chaos of the week watching Little Man play with his new toys and watching husband construct the things that need "some assembly." Have a Merry Christmas!

Bucket List

My long-time friend from all the way back in college recently had the opportunity to be a balloon handler in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. She was part of the crew that led the Kool-Ade man. Pretty cool. She said it was something on her Bucket List and she felt good about crossing it off. Soon, a friend is taking off for a cross-county adventure. He’s relieved himself of his worldly possessions and will heading west to see what there is to see. I don’t know if that is on his Bucket List per se, but it sounds like something that should be.

Image from
homeimprovementbasics.com

So I started thinking; what exactly is a Bucket List? What are the criteria for something making it onto the Bucket List? Are these items things you really, really want to do and actually work toward doing? Or just stuff you’d like to do if you can? If it’s the later, then that’s more of a Shrug List. Are the things on the Bucket List fluid? For example, if I wanted to climb Mt. Everest, but now it wouldn’t be possible for whatever reason, can I take it off the list and replace it with something else? What if I don’t complete my list before I kick the bucket? Does my child have to take on my list? Do I spend time in purgatory watching others do those things? But I digress.

For me, a Bucket List consists of things I’d really like to do, fantasize about doing, dream about doing and try to plan toward. It is fluid and it changes with my personal circumstances. There are several items that were once on my list that no longer make the grade. Others I’ve accomplished and they’ve been checked off. For kicks and giggles, these are ten things on my list.

1.      Get a Mustang convertible GT (done and I recently totaled it)

2.      Build a house (done)

3.      Have a family (done)

4.      See every state (I’ve seen a good number of them already)

5.      Learn to tat. I should say, learn to make Irish lace.

6.      Take an Italian cooking class – in Italy!

7.      Be a published author (revising my first novel!)

8.      Ride on the Orient Express

9.      Complete my family tree/history (working)

10.  Travel – see South America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Iceland

 
What’s on your list? Let me know.

Thank You Clarence!

Unless you live under a rock, then you know that today is Thanksgiving. This is my favorite holiday because it is a universal holiday. It doesn't matter your faith, your background, or anything else. It is simply the day to pause and be thankful for what you do have. I am thankful for my family, my friends, my fixer-upper home, and all the opportunities that come my way.

photo by LeeAnn Rhoden

Yes, I am cooking today. Sort of. I cheated by getting a pre-cooked rotisserie chicken from the store (I don't like turkey), but the rest of the meal I'll be cooking - mashed potatoes, gravy, squash medley, and stuffing. I made pumpkin spice cake from a recipe I got from my friend, Allison, for dessert and there is a cherry pie in the kitchen too. My husband surprised me with an early Christmas gift. He gave me a new coffee maker! I love it!!

The one thing I am truly thankful for is Clarence. Clarence is my guardian angel. He isn't a graceful angel. He's not the type that will prevent me from walking out in front of a bus by distracting me with a lovely pair of shoes in a shop window or serendipitously running into an old friend and stopping to say hello. No. Clarence will prevent me from walking out in front of a bus by having me trip over my own feet and spraining my ankle. Anytime something happens that is just too weird for words, I know it is Clarence doing what he does because shortly there will be a blessing in some form. Sometimes, it's hard to appreciate Clarence's methods. Sometimes I'd rather be distracted by the pretty shoes. But, alas, Clarence is just clumsy and, well, I get that.

Yesterday, Clarence visited me. I don't know if I was saved from something else that would have been catastrophic at that time, or perhaps in the near future, but he was definitely with me. It's Clarence's way. My day started out as usual - got my husband off to work, fed the dogs, got the boy up and fed and dressed. My morning was busy: going to the gym, returning a library book, going to the post office to pick up a package, going to the grocery store to get milk, ice cream, and the Thanksgiving chicken. Finally, at the request of the Little Man, a trip to Dunkin Donuts to get a donut and a chocolate milkshake.

It rained the day before. It rained all night. The roads were wet. I should have said "no" to the trip to get donuts. On the way home, Clarence came into my life. What happened? I hydroplaned in a left-hand turn, over corrected and continued sliding up onto a curb and into a tree. Yes, my beloved Mustang, my Eleanor, hit a tree. Hard. Yes, I know they don't handle well on wet roads. I know you shouldn't over correct. I know! Whatever. It happened.



Photo by LeeAnn Rhoden

How bad was it? Well, the air bags didn't deploy and the engine didn't even stop running and I had to shut it off with the key. Little Man did drop his milkshake all over the back seat and himself. He was crying about that and then suddenly very excited about the "broken car." The worst of it was I had to call my husband to come home from work. And I was extremely embarrassed to have traffic blocked by the tow truck. Oh, it's probably totaled because the front end collapsed, the radiator is trashed and the hood crumpled. I am sure there is more engine damage. Maybe it can be repaired. Maybe not. Either way, it's okay because we are okay. I don't know what Clarence's plan is. Frankly, he could've just left me a post-it note on the fridge. But the fact that no one was hurt, even the tree had just a few scrapes, lets me know that at some point, I'll see why he did this.

In the meantime, I'll give thanks for today, my family, my friends, the opportunities that come everyday with the sunrise, and for Clarence. What are you thankful for?

Questions

Photo from Fanshare.com

Little Man has started with questions. Why do we sleep at night, Mama? Where is the puppy dog going? How do we get to the store? When does Santa come? Who's that? When does Grandma come? I'm reminded of the scene from Uncle Buck between John Candy and Macaulay Culkin when the little boy is asking rapid-fire questions. It can be both entertaining and exasperating at the same time. This is how he learns and gains information about his world. And my responsibility as his parent is to give him accurate and truthful information at his level.

Little Man: Mama, how did a baby get in Allison's tummy?
Me: God put it there.
Little Man: Can we have ice cream?

All his questioning has me questioning if I still question things. Oh sure, there's the reaction to whatever is on the news, "What was he thinking?" or "Why would they do something so stupid?" Most of the questions that get raised on the news or through social media I already have an answer to, or at the very least a formed opinion. I know what the guy was thinking and why they did something stupid. Those are reactions, not real questions. A real question is when you are genuinely seeking an answer, a fact, a truth.

I know why the sky is blue and the grass is green. I know the earth is round and the moon is not made of cheese. Those are easy questions to answer. And I'm not talking about questions like "What are your plans for this weekend?" That's schedule coordination. But a question, a real question, is more like, "What is my purpose for being on this earth? What is my place?" I think to some degree those questions we always ask. And perhaps, the answers change depending on our stage in life.

For now, my questions will be, "How do I make this scene better?" and, "What does this character want?" or "Why would this character do that?" It's still revision time and I need to get my novel put back into shape and FINALLY get it done.

Faye's Lace

We lived in Rhode Island while I was growing up. My mother's family were all in Alabama and my father's family were all in Missouri. Obviously, we weren't raised with large gatherings of extended family. That's okay, were a close nuclear family unit. This is not to say that we didn't visit family or have family come to us, we did, just not often. Still, it was often enough to know which family members you looked forward to visiting.

One of the family members I looked forward to seeing was my Aunt Faye, my father's sister. I guess I liked her because she was a lot like my dad - same sense of humor, liked to read, and always had an interesting story to tell. She was also the one who, like me, was interested in needlework. Time passes and there's college, marriage, divorce, work, marriage, moving, a baby and sadly, I let life get too busy and lost touch with Faye and other extended family members. Not too long ago, maybe a year or so ago, I was able to reconnect with her for family tree information. We would talk for hours and I loved to hear the stories and catch up with her and I realized, even with time and distance between us, we were more alike than I knew. My Aunt Faye passed away last June.

 Aunt Faye crocheted lace. She was prolific. I haven't attempted to crochet lace or knit lace or even tat lace yet, but it is on my list of "things I want to learn." When she passed, Dad brought back the mountain of lace doilies and snowflakes that she had made throughout her lifetime. Mom chose some to frame, my sister selected a couple, I framed some and kept some. There were so many left over and I knew that I wouldn't be able to use all of them but I didn't want them to go unused, unappreciated, unseen. What should I do with them?

On Wednesday evenings, I knit and crochet with a group of church ladies at our church. I took Aunt Faye's remaining lace to them last night. If anyone would appreciate the craft as much as I do, it would be these ladies. I was right. They loved them and could not believe how intricate and beautiful they were. They asked me about her and her life and her passing.

One woman took a pink square. She is in her eighties and a two-time breast cancer survivor. She lost her husband and all three of her daughters to cancer and raise two granddaughters, the youngest is now in her early twenties. She took this square to place on her table where she keeps her daughters' pictures.

One woman took a pink rectangle to place her crystal on. Her dining room is done in hues of rose and mauve and she had been looking for something just like it.

One woman took two for her bedside tables.

One woman asked if she could take the remainder to put up for auction. She and her husband are adopting a child from the Ukraine this coming spring. The child is a sixteen-year old girl, who needs a home before she's too old for the orphanage and they turn her out to God knows what kind of life. The woman and her husband need to come up with the money for travel and the miscellaneous fees that will come up. Aunt Faye never had children of her own, but she told me once that she wanted to adopt a girl but that was back in the day when they didn't let single women adopt. I thought this would be something Aunt Faye would be happy about.

At the end of our gathering time, we close in prayer. I was overwhelmed by the thanks they offered up to Aunt Faye's gifts and the blessing they asked for her lace. I know she's smiling in heaven. My hope is that her lace will be appreciated and passed on along with her memory.

Baking Day!!

I like to cook and I'm good at it but lately I haven't been too inspired. Little Man will only eat goldfish and chicken nuggets these days so making two meals at each meal time can be daunting. I do because my husband doesn't want to eat chicken nuggets and goldfish for every meal. The kitchen in our fixer-upper house is less than ideal for cooking; there's no flow. That doesn't mean that I don't whip out an awesome meal from time to time, because I do. And once we get around to remodeling and redesigning the kitchen, cooking and creating can resume.

In the meantime, Little Man is growing and because he's a boy, he eats all the time. No, he won't eat what he should like vegetables and such. Instead, he grazes in the pantry and the refrigerator all day. If he can't reach something, or open something, he calls me to come do it for him. It can be exhausting just feeding him all day. Often I walk into the kitchen to discover the refrigerator standing open. My husband, who was also a growing boy at one time, suggested that I keep a plate or dish of things the boy can just grab and eat. His mom did for him. He even told me a funny story of how he ate an entire pie after school as a snack. And yes, he ate dinner too. Sadly, the pie was not meant to be eaten as a snack.

So, today is baking day. I plan on baking muffins, cookies, and brownies. I hope the Little Man will like them. My plan is to get him to help me make these things. He likes to help in the kitchen and sometimes he takes an interest in something new if he's "cooked" it with Mommy. I know I'm looking forward to a warm blueberry muffin with butter on it. Mmmmm!

But, before I can start the baking of goodies, it's my turn to write on our blog and I need to bake up a good continuation of our story line. What things do you do for snacks for the family? What do you do when you need inspiration? What thoughts do you have about The Southern Tablet? Would love to hear from you!

Change Is A Good Thing

In just a matter of a few days, a few struggles, and a few tears, I am happy to announce Little Man is FINALLY potty trained. Yes, I expect a few accidents here and there, but he is now taking the initiative to do what he is supposed to do. Now to work on dressing himself. Soon, very soon, he will be mostly independent and will need me less and less. Yes, I am happy about this because I want him to be able and independent. I want him to grow up and be self-reliant and confident. I want a little me time back. Yes, this makes me sad because my baby is too fast becoming a little boy who will be a big boy and before too long be a young man. I miss my little snuggly guy. Already he pushes away when he's had too much. And dropping him off at school where he used to hug and cling to me, he now just waves me off and says, "Bye Mama."

Photo from Amazon.com

And just as quickly as they grow, they develop their own likes and dislikes. When he was a baby, one of his first words was 'tree.' He LOVED trees. We'd go to the park and he spent more time running from tree to tree, touching them, giggling, and saying "tree!" than he did playing on the slides. It was charming. So, what could a mother do? I put a tree in his room. Well, I ordered the tree and my husband put it up. I LOVED that tree. Recently, Little Man told me he didn't like the tree any more and he began pulling it off his wall. So today, with great sadness, I removed the rest of the tree. It was one of my favorite things about his room. And when I get around to fixer-uppering the bonus room into my craft/work room, I may order another one and put it in there. If you like it you can order it here. He took down all his Mickey Mouse stickers too. Now he's into pirates and fireworks. That will change someday too and he'll be into who knows what.

Meanwhile, my husband and I are celebrating our 7th anniversary on Sunday. Wow! Time flies when you are having fun! Where we started out celebrating our anniversaries with weekend trips, or visiting wineries for wine tasting, or a ride in the convertible or on the motorcycle. Now, we are going to a movie and then to dinner. We did that last year too. And I think we just went to dinner the year before that. Dinner and a movie used to be a common occurrence - now it's a treat. We don't get out much with our busy schedules and the Little Man and it's hard to sit in a dark movie theater without falling asleep since we've been sleep deprived for a number of years now. Don't laugh, but we are going to a matinee and then an early dinner so we can get home and get to bed at a reasonable hour. What can I say? We are both over 35. *ahem*

I'm constantly amazed how things change and never in the way I expect them too, and always for the best. Now that our literary journal has been launched and we're beginning to plan for March's issue, and I've finished the editing job I took on, and I'm finishing up the remaining projects I had, it's time to get back to my revisions on my novel (finally). While I've been toiling at other things, I've been marinating on ideas and scenes that need to be improved/discarded/rewritten. It's turning into quite a different story than I began. And that's for the better.

It's About Currency

This blog is about potty training and not money so if you're not interested, read no further. But since this is really the main focus of my life at this time, it's what's on my mind. Sometimes it's funny, others it's frustrating beyond words.

So, Little Man is still in potty training mode. He's getting better but he's resisting. He will go on the potty when we are visiting relatives, out to dinner, on a road trip, at school, and well, anywhere except at home. At home, he turns into the resistance army and goes into counter-offensive mode - hiding, running away, yelling, crying, and sometimes slapping. It takes a LOT of time and energy to coerce him into getting on the potty to just pee. And he always seems A) surprised and B) so proud of himself (like it was his idea) he announces it to the entire neighborhood. Meanwhile, I'm exhausted and chasing him around the house to get him dressed. As for the other end of business, that's a big no. He will go off and hide in another room to um, fill his pants. I know, gross.

We've tried everything positive: praise, stickers, rewards, treats, you name it. We've tried everything negative: time-out, taking away TV, taking away toys, etc. We've gone to taking away toys in increasing numbers: today it's one toy, tomorrow it's two toys, then three, etc. Right now the Little Man has a bed in his room and just a few toys left. He's even gotten into it by removing the stickers on his walls saying he doesn't want them any more. I applaud that he isn't a hoarder but still...

I did manage to locate his currency. Clearly his toys or TV don't mean anything to him. At least not enough to get him to willingly drop his drawers and go on the potty. So, what would? How could I let him know that it is just as important to be potty trained at home as it is everywhere else? Hmmm. His currency? Me.

Every night he will only fall asleep if I'm laying down next to him. Then, sometime in the middle of the night, he will come into our room. At first we let him climb into our bed. But now he's getting too big so we set up a cot in our room where he can go to sleep. Last weekend after he was quite adamant and rebellious about the potty and even told us he would NOT use the potty, we were done. So, the thing we took away from him? Me. Mommy put him in his bed, told him a story and left. The cot was removed and it was made very clear that until he uses the potty there will be no Mommy at night time.

Yes, this makes me cry. It breaks my heart to hear him cry. I fight my instinct to cuddle him in the middle of the night. But, at some point he has to understand his choices and consequences. This went on for two nights. Last night, he woke in the middle of the night, came to me and told me he had to go on the potty. I took him, he didn't do anything but he looked at me with big sad brown eyes and said "Mommy can sleep with me now." So, of course I did. God bless him he tried and he was figuring it out. Today he has been more cooperative and every time he'll say to me, "Mama, I went on the potty, you can sleep in my bed." So, yes, in a few minutes we will be going to bed. He earned his Mommy back.

The Southern Tablet and Other Stuff

So this is November. November is a busy month. It is National Novel Writing Month, National Thankful Month, there's Thanksgiving, Black Friday, Christmas Tree lightings, Alabama plays Auburn (Roll Tide), and the beginnings of all things Holidays. Love this time of year!

Courtesy of
www.agwire.com

Best part of holiday season? Food. I LOVE food. I'm not a cake/pie/cookie person but I do like gravy and mashed potatoes, and hors d'oeuvres, and stuffing, and casseroles, and soufflés, and wine. Ummmm..... This could be why I need to hit that place, what's it called? Oh yeah, the gym. *pout*

Another outstanding thing happening this November is the launching of a new literary journal called The Southern Tablet. The first edition makes its debut on Saturday, November 9th. Initially, it will be online only, but within a year there should be a print version as well. You can see the journal at www.thesoutherntablet.com. So, what's my interest in this? No big deal, I'm just Managing Editor. That and I have one story and one essay being featured in it. Well, everyone on our staff has two pieces featured. We will be accepting submissions beginning in January for our March issue. If you are interested in submitting, please see the website for the guidelines.

Also, this month we launched our accompanying blog called The Southern Tablet. You can find it at www.thesoutherntablet.wordpress.com. What is awesome about our blog is we are writing a round-robin novel in honor of our launch and NaNoWriMo. Each one of us chose a day to write a chapter of a story. My day is Tuesday. If you have a chance, check it out. Not just my entry, of course, the whole thing. It's really good and who knew that we were actually that creative! Then keep up with it until the conclusion.

What do you have going on this November, aside from catching up on our blog and breathlessly awaiting The Southern Tablet? Yes, I plan on getting back to my revisions on my novel. Things quiet down a bit after Saturday. Would love to hear from you!

What Time Is It?

Courtesy of
www.freedigitalphotos.net

So, my husband and I joined a gym. Yippy. For those of you who know me, you not only heard the sarcasm in that "yippy" but you felt it too. Hubby likes to be active, so this is going to be good for him. Plus he says he wants to lose weight and get back into shape. I get that. There's a daycare for the Little Man so that's good for him.

Courtesy of
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I don't like working out. There, I said it out loud. I don't like to sweat. I don't like to breathe hard. I don't like to "work it." I do not understand why anyone would want to "feel the burn" and it is not a good thing to feel sore the next day. Deliberately hurting yourself is called masochism. It is abnormal behavior and psychiatrists can prescribe medication for that condition. However, I do want to lose weight. I'd like to be the size I was when I got married, which yes, ladies, was the size I was in high school. I'd like to drop my blood pressure so I can be around for the Big Man and Little Man for another 30 years. God knows they need me. So, I'll try this working out thing.

This gym may not be so bad. First, it doesn't smell like a gym. Nothing worse than walking into a place and smelling sweat and bad breath. Yuck. This gym is air conditioned. I don't like to be hot, so I was pleased to see the A/C set at 63 degrees. They offer yoga at normal temperatures and best of all, they have treadmills and elliptical machines in a movie theater! So, I think I'll be able to find things to do and going there won't be too depressing.

Courtesy of
www.freedigitalphoto.net
 

While we were being sold on the gym, the salesman health consultant said that if we made just 3 hours a week a priority, we'd see results. I guess he thought my priority was results. Actually, the 3 hours per week is what got me. I still don't know where I'm going to find 3 hours a week. If you know me, then you know that time is a HUGE issue with me so I started thinking about all the things we are supposed to spend time on during the week. After a little research, here's the list according to the pundits:


• Sleeping = 56 hrs.
• Personal hygiene (showering, teeth brushing, etc.) = 7 hrs.
• Food (cooking, eating, clean up for 3 meals per day) = 21 hrs.
• Work = 40 hrs.
• House Work (includes laundry) = 21 hrs.
• Yard Work = 4 hrs.
• Budgeting (includes paying bills) = 1 hr.
• Planning (setting up the next week) = 2 hrs.
• Errands = 6 hrs.
• Entertainment (TV, movies, etc.) = 14 hrs.
• Socialization (parties, conversation, etc.) = 4 hrs.
• Interactive time with the dogs = 15 hrs.
• Interactive time with the child = 21 hrs.
• Working out = 3 hrs.

Grand Total is 215 hours of things to do each week. The down side is that there are only 168 hours in a week so I'm short 47 hours each week. I guess I'll just have to give up sleeping to fit everything else in. What? You say I'm a stay home mom so I don't work? Wrong. I do work. I write, edit, do revisions, teach crocheting and knitting and we are days away from launching a literary magazine. I work from home. And I try to do all the other things I'm supposed to do too. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail. What do you do during the course of the week? How do you spend your time?

In Search Of Pizza

Pizza by Suat Eman
www.freedigitalphoto.net

Friday night is Pizza Night at the Rhoden household. There are 52 Fridays in a year so the quality of pizza is vital. I grew up in the northeast so I know quality pizza. We had Steve's Pizza, and Balzanos. We won't even talk about the pizza you could get in Providence on "Garlic Mountain" or in Boston, and of course, New York. My husband grew up in Maryland so he knows crab cakes. That being the case, the responsibility of finding a really good pizza falls on my shoulders. I haven't lived in the northeast since I was 17 when I went away to college so the task of finding pizza in the south that can compare has been a long journey.

I'm not disparaging southern cooks. Southern food is fabulous in its own right. I mean really, who doesn't love chicken and dumplings, or fried chicken? Pizza requires the right touch and the right water to make the right crust. Fortunately, I lived in Florida and saw the great in flux of Yankees of the 1980s and 90s. With the Yankees came pizza.

One of the best pizzas that came to our little town is Scorpio's Pizza. The pizza is fantastic and their other offerings are equally wonderful. If you make it to Deltona, FL for any reason, you must have one of their pizzas. I was very happy to introduce my husband to real pizza and he loved it! Scorpios Pizza established our "pizza scale" in our quest for a good pizza. I'm happy to see that they've been successful and have two locations now.

We have settled here in Georgia and our pursuit for pizza continues. We prefer to try the mom & pop run pizza places for good food, and cozy atmosphere. We like it when we can get to know the people there and they know us (yes, like Cheers, "where everyone knows your name"). We thought we had found that place and for the last 3 years we have been patronizing the same location every Friday night (well, most Friday nights). Little Man was still in an infant carrier when we found the place. He grew up there. and for the first two years it was great. The people knew us by name. They knew our order without needing to take it. We tipped well. Little Man had his first bite of garlic bread there. He had his first taste of pizza there. When he started talking, he knew their names. Last year our place changed ownership. The food is still good but the atmosphere has changed and all the people we knew left.

So, with a heavy heart, we have begun our search for a really good pizza and a really good atmosphere. Last week we tried a place and loved the pizza. The atmosphere wasn't bad either but it was a bigger place and not necessarily "cozy." The pizza ranked 7 on the Scorpio's scale and the atmosphere placed a 5 or 6. This Friday we will try another place to see how they rate.

In my novel, which yes, I'm still revising, Walter Martin has a regular place where he is known. What do you look for in a "regular" place to go? Good food? Good atmosphere? Friendliness? Let me know some of your stories.

How Can I Help You

Courtesy of Federal Express

A man entered a Federal Express office minutes before closing time. He had a package that "absolutely, positively had to be there overnight." The last truck had already left with the last load of the day and was on the way to the airport to be sorted and loaded. Undeterred by this minor technicality, the clerk accepted the package from the man and assured him his package would arrive at its destination on time. He then called a messenger service to take the package to the airport sorting facility. His second call was to the sorting facility letting them know a last minute package was on its way. Unfortunately, the plane leaving for the package's final destination had just taken off. The clerk, made one other call; he chartered a plane to make sure that package made it to its destination on time, as promised. The next day, the package was indeed where it needed to be. What happened to the clerk? Was his boss angry by the exorbitant cost of sending this lone package? I mean really! A messenger fee, a chartered plane! No. The clerk received thanks from upper management and a promotion. Why? Because this clerk took responsibility, took initiative, took ownership of the company's motto.

Whether or not this is a true story or an urban legend, it shows what true customer service is all about. All too often companies use customer service as a means to shrug off their customers. How many times have you called for assistance and received a phone tree? A mechanical woman or man offering opportunities to press 1 or 2 or to repeat these options, press 9. En Español, marque ocho. How many times have these options not been even close to the reason you called?

My favorite is when you finally reach a live human being. After you give them your vital statistics and information you hope they will now be able to help you. Isn't it disappointing when they start reading from a script? And then when they transfer you, the new person starts all over again with the same questions. Arg! I am not angry with the person I'm speaking to. He or she is simply following the guidelines and the company's policies and culture. I am frustrated with their inability to really provide customer service. And sadly, perhaps it is today's culture that has forgotten what it means to be helpful. My recent run it left me sad and disappointed with today's concepts of serving the customer.

So I asked myself, what would have happened if the first person I talked to at the USPS had taken initiative to locate my missing package? What if the customer service people at the USPS had taken ownership of the situation and worked on actually solving the problem instead of parroting the tracking information I got online already? Would my package have arrived any sooner than it did? No, probably not. But they may have been able to tell me where it was, specifically as opposed to some vague "departed destination" with no update for 12 hours. This was an overnight package for heavens sake! And perhaps, if the customer service person had placed a few calls such as, what plane was it on? when did it depart? why was an overnight package placed on a 2-day plane? Perhaps, someone may have taken initiative and gotten the package on the correct plane and it would have arrived in the evening.

Sure, the Post Office has a money back guarantee if the overnight package doesn't get there overnight. But companies that do that are missing the mark. Their customers are, yes, angry about paying for something they didn't get, but they are MORE upset about missing the original promise. Overnight means it needs to be there the next day. Thanks for my refund, but because of you, your lack of service, your lack to uphold your promise of overnight, I missed out on my promise. I can't get that back.

What have been some of your customer service run-ins? Any good stories?