My Two Blessings

Knotted Roots - Courtesy of Reannadale Knots We tie ourselves in knots from the silly to the fraught. How dare he! How dare she! Is it all for naught? He said, she said, they said. Does it really matter when blood is shed? They divide and sway and are blind to the truth. We sing, they yell, we cry, they take up the call, Then use it as an excuse to get rid of the uncouth. Frayed nerves and shattered limbs, gray hairs and lights are dimmed. Scattered among are those with just causes. Fearful of those who don't obey laws and tangled up believers whose thinking has flaws. We are raw, they are to blame. We are free, they have no shame. His story, her story, which one is right? There is so much wrong when they think with might. They mash, they wail, they flee out of sight. They distract, they dissemble They argue semantics and fail to assemble. They break apart words and leads people to tremble. and causes nothing except b...

The stained glass windows of the little red brick church glistened in the morning sun.  Rain clouds started to gather in the sky and cast shadows across the fields surrounding the building.  I was hidden in the church hall, dressed in my wedding gown, surrounded by my sisters.  The photographer put us through our poses and disappeared back into the church.   Everyone had arrived, except for John’s grandmother and his great aunts.  Evidently his uncle had gotten lost with the matriarch of the family.  We had to wait, didn’t we?  I paced, as more clouds bloomed.  Five minutes turned to fifteen, then twenty. This was before we all carried cellphones. John’s older brother finally came out and said I didn’t have to wait anymore as his poor brother was getting more nervous by the minute.  Let’s get the show on the road.  Just as I exited the hall, it started to sprinkle.  My sisters gathered up my train and we dashe...

Abby glanced at the sleek, burgundy Spider Ferrari and tried not to drool.  “Honey, why don’t you ever buy me anything like that?” “Come on Abby. Seriously?”   “Don’t you love me?” Jacob took her hand and pressed it to his heart. “Every day, babe and then some.  For what it’s worth, if I could afford it, I’d buy you a dozen.  But you know, it’s a good thing I don’t have to show how much I love you by buying expensive things.” “How about little things?” Abby kissed him softly on the lips. “That goes without saying. Why just this morning I bought you this.” Jacob pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Last night at Parker’s, I came across this small trinket I thought you’d like.” “Maniac. No doubt it’s something for you to enjoy as well.  Only a guy would buy his woman a trinket from the hardware store.” “Parker’s happens to have some very fine items.  Stop your complaining and open it.” On the verge of whining for no good reason, she shut up, opened the lid ...

Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed?  Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our hearts?  Can the writer renew our hope for literary forms?  Why are we reading if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so we may feel again their majesty and power?  What do we ever know that is higher than that power which, from time to time, seizes our lives, and reveals us startlingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered?  Why does death so catch us by surprise, and why love?  We still and always want waking. We should amass half dressed in long lines like tribesman and shake gourds at each other, to wake up; instead we watch television and miss the show.  (pg ...

A friend mentioned Ursula LeGuin's essay, Being Taken for Granite , which is included in her book - The Wave in the Mind . It struck a chord as we've been having minimal success lately with our building project.  I'm not quite granite, but don't think I'm quite mud either. Thinking about what that means. Being Taken for Granite  by  Ursula Le Guin Sometimes I am taken for granite. Everybody is taken for granite sometimes but I am not in a mood for being fair to everybody. I am in a mood for being fair to me. I am taken for granite quite often, and this troubles and distresses me, because I am not granite. I am not sure what I am but I know it isn't granite. I have known some granite types, we all do: characters of stone, upright, immovable, unchangeable, opinions the general size shape and pliability of the Rocky Mountains, you have to quarry five years to chip out one little stony smile. That's fine, that's admirable, but it has nothing to do with me. U...

Gratitude Whatever be the depth of woe Along the path that I must go, I'll sing my song— My song of joy for all the love That's lavished on us from above, And count no loss of treasure-trove When things go wrong. I'll sing the sunlight, and the bright Soft smiling stars that gem the night; For gifts of good That God hath spread along my way, The lilt of birds in tuneful play, The harvests full and flowers gay, The whole day long I'll sing my song Of gratitude! ~John Kendrick Bangs (1862-1922), "My Song" (October Twenty-sixth),   The Cheery Way: A Bit of Verse For Every Day , 1920

Yikes! There are only two week and a half weeks left to our summer break and we haven't accomplished 1/4 of our to do list, nor did we manage to take off somewhere and explore.  I need one of those - stop the world, I want to get time off buttons. A Tardis would actually do quite nicely.   Yes, I've been watching way too much Doctor Who. Another sleepless night since my body has now decided it doesn't like Bel Air's Chipotle Panini's. Maybe it's the Chipotle sauce?   I've been dragging all day and managed to get out to the grocery store. Otherwise, have lazed around, reading.  I'm almost finished spelling out Sardonyx and have X left. I ordered Jeff Vandemeer's Area X: The Southern Reach Trilogy which will arrive in a couple days.  Meanwhile I'm reading Seanan McGuire's first book - Discount Armageddon  in her InCryptid series.  Delightful light paranormal read which is just what I needed right now. It's book week 33 in our 52 Bo...

I'm back to playing with Oulipo's. The constraint:  Book must have a J in the title.  Not very original, but let's see how it works out.  Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side A Jerk, A Jihad and a Virus Just One Damned Thing After Another  Just So Happen Just Listen Journey from the Land of No Just a Little Lie Jealousy A Kind of Justice Just Between Us Just One Golden Kiss Just Say Yes Is it Just me.  Just Friends Just a Cowboy Just my Type Just Like That  Juliet Immortal  Jumping Through Fire  Journey to the Center of the Earth  Jump the Cracks Jeweled Fire  Joy of Life Jewels of the Sun Just One Look Just Like  A Man Just Me in the Tube Just Take My Heart 

Ten years.  It had been ten years since you’ve  come back to your hometown. You finish breakfast and glance at your watch.  You still have a couple hours before you need to be at the train station. You’ve been here a whole week and managed to avoid thinking about your old home.  It doesn't hold a lot of good memories, but the pull is there all the same. Why not drive by?  You’ve heard stories about the area. It’s become a blight on the town and is about to be demolished for a new housing development. Now that would be something; to see it all crash down and bulldozers scoop it all away until nothing is left. God, when had you become so maudlin? You leave a tip on the table, head out and drive across town.  The place has grown with dozens of mini malls and business parks, manufacturing plant and is almost unrecognizable.   You find the right street and there it looms, the huge tenement building with crumbled bricks and broken windows.  Memories was...

It rained toads the day the White Council came to town.  I got out of the Blue Beetle, my beat up old Volkswagen bug, and squinted against the midsummer sunlight.  Lake Meadow Park lies a bit south of Chicago's Loop, a long sprint from Lake Michigan's shores.  Even in the heat like we'd had lately, the park would normally be crowded with people.  Today it was deserted but for an old lady with a shopping car and a long coat, tottering around the park.  It wasn't yet noon and my sweats and T-shirt were too hot for the weather. 

I couldn't resist Qwertee's Last Chance Tee Sale 

A writing challenge I can't resist.  A friend enticed me to join in doing a 30 Day Writing Challenge designed a while back by Athena at One Word at a Time starting on August 15th. I typed up without the numbers so could start mid month.  I plan on using it to get back into Eyes in the Ashes abd stimulate those writing taste buds.  Fun!   Write 5 possible first sentences A main character’s biggest secret The theme of this story Explore the midpoint of your plot A main character’s biggest regret What excites you the most about this particular story? A scene that would never actually appear in this story. An antagonist’s pet peeves A main character’s theme song How do you want the reader to feel while reading this book? The most important day in a main character’s life. A prologue you don’t plan to publish A main character’s favorite inspirational quote or motto Your fears about this project. A glowing 5 star review that you’d love to rec...

Willow Tree Angel of Hope I broke Hope the other day.  I was dusting my bookshelves and while moving all the angels around, she fell, hit the fan and her hands broke off.  I tried using tacky glue, but it didn't work.  She kind of mirrored how I was feeling for a few days.  I get a bit melancholy around James birthday and all the more so since my mom passed away four years ago. Her birthday is the day after James.   The grief comes rolling in and there isn't a whole lot you can do except ride it out.  And usually when I'm riding that wave, I don't want to write. I avoid it, and read or browse the internet instead.  Yesterday I almost talked myself in taking another break from blogging. I was thinking - take a week or two off and maybe get back into it near the end of August. You have so much to do with planning 12th grade and the new building and family is coming to visit and...      Excuses. Right!  I do that. I avoid writing...

Hubby came back from his walk yesterday morning and showed me pictures of bins of books he'd seen at a garage sale in his meanderings.  I quickly told him what authors I liked before heading off to work while he returned to pick up a few.  A few?  When I got home, he lead me into our bedroom and showed the haul.  He'd gone back with a backpack and stuffed it full.     Thanks honey. I love you too!  Gee, I won't have to buy any more books for a month, err, a week . Hmm....a while.  *grin*  This past week I finished number eight in the Wheel of Time series - The Path of Daggers - in which Elayne and Nynaeve find the bowl of winds, Rand continues to win allies and fight enemies, Egwene proves she is capable of being the Amyrlin Seat and Perrin works to find and stop Masema Dagar, the self-proclaimed Prophet of the Dragon.   I'm still trying to wrap my head around the visual of Rand and others moving thousands of troops and all that...

Happy 18th Birthday James.   In the eyes of the world today, you are an adult and with it comes all the responsibilities included with that title.  I look at the young man standing before me today with pride. No, we aren't done with you yet.   There's still much to teach and learn as well, on all our parts. We still have a ways to walk yet before you go out into the world to start your own journey.   Little did I understand what unconditional love meant until you came into our lives.  You changed how we look at the world around us and not to take anything or anyone for granted.   You have blessed our lives immeasurably. We love you to infinity and beyond!

I peer at the human, my heart thunders in my chest.  I grip the round logs at the end of its branch.  It saved me.  The monster had captured me with its fangs, held me against the earth.  The human twittered, quick and loud, at the thing holding me.  She, I think, it has long hair, made my enemy let go. She picks me up and cuddles me to her breast.  I feel the pounding of her heart next to mine.  She chirps, nonsensical sounds, and runs a talon over my head and back.  She is nice. She is warm. She is safe.  The other human makes the monster return to its nest. ** I gaze through the glass at my human.  She spoiled our play.  The chirper started it, dive bombing and yelling at me.  I’d been sleeping, the sun warming my back, the dirt cool against my belly.  My brother joins me and licks my ear.  I’m not in the mood to play and swat him across the nose.  I scratch at the glass. That always gets their attention…usual...

Ethenielle had seen mountains lower than these misnamed Black Hills, great lopsided heaps of half buried boulders, webbed with steep twisting passes.  A number of these passes would have given a goat pause.  You could travel three days through drought withered forests and brown grassed meadows without seeing a single sign of human habitation, then suddenly find yourself within half a day of seven or eight tiny villages, all ignorant of the world.  The Black Hills were a rugged place for farmers, away from the trade routes, and harsher now than usual.  A gaunt leopard that should have vanished at the sight of men watched from a steep slope, not forty paces away, as she rode past with her armored escort. Westward, vultures wheeled patient circles like an omen. Not a cloud marred the blood red sun, yet there were clouds of a sort. When the warm wind blew, it raised walls of dust.

I'm working on drawing faces and traced part, then free draw the rest.  Don't remember the model's name unfortunately.  Yet, she is the perfect face for Izzy, one of my characters in Eyes in the Ashes.

Goodbye July!  The month went by way too fast. You'd  think with the birthstone of the month being a short simple stone - Ruby - I'd be able to finish off the task quite quickly.   However, I did read two non fiction books, both which took time. Fire Up Your Writing Brain took a bit of time because I started reading through it again, sharing information discovered with hubby and son and taking lots of notes.  Once again the majority of stories read are paranormals, my go to genre.  Stats wise, I read twelve books with the majority in e book form. My eyes are getting older and finding it impossible to read some books, especially the Wheel of Times series in physical form since the lettering is so small.  R: The Rook - Daniel O'Malley.  A dusty paranormal book that's been in my virtual files for quite a while.   The lead character wakes up with amnesia and discovered letters written by her former self, explaining her life and the secret ...