FGHart

On Thursday (Yes, the Thursday – Thanksgiving Day) I took a bunch of photos of the birds that had decided to visit. This particular shot begs for stories. Maybe because you can see through the door. Doors are always opening and closing, and I can’t think of any door anywhere that doesn’t have a story to tell. Through the sunroom door we see a variety of birds sharing a bath. The cardinals hold a special place in my heart, and there’s a story to be told that I’ll eventually hammer out for some audience somewhere.

You may notice that the coping (rock edging) on the pool is amiss. There’s a bird standing in a missing tile. 2 years ago we put in the pool (pool owners, like boat owners, all have stories to tell) and the coping is pitting. It seems this is a common problem with saltwater pools and although it was known at the time, the pool company did not put on the recommended sealer. 2 weeks ago the pool company began the process of replacing the coping. We’re having to pay for the stones, but the pool company is paying for all of the labor and for replacing the water. I’d love to say that we skillfully negotiated a deal where they paid for everything…but have you ever dealt with a pool company? It takes a special breed.

Today marks the last day of November. I’ve been diligent in my daily blogs, and I expect to remain a regular. The only difference will be that maybe, just maybe, I’ll skip the days when I don’t have anything to say. It will be interesting to see where things go from here. My heart is pounding with anticipation – I promised myself that my priority will now be the short stories and the novel that are begging for expression.

I’ve dusted off and refined a short story I wrote a few months ago. A morbid tale of an unbalanced mother. I’m ready to write another story. One of the two will be submitted to The Chronicle for their annual short story contest.

When I started this blog, it never occurred to me that I would immediately begin a daily exercise of putting my thoughts onto a train of coherent cars that moved along a track for others to follow. I’m not surprised that God has worked on me through this medium and taught me to trust Him, even here.

“But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:7-9

While my wonderful husband cooked, I spent hours (and hours) blogging. Mostly reading blogs rather than posting anything. It’s like unraveling a sweater. You pick up a thread and start tugging on it. Follow it where it takes you and eventually you have a color pile of yarn(s) but not much else to show for your efforts.

Also, I read some fiction:
I did some bird watching. We were on the phone with “M” when I realized the birds were having a fieldday in a waterlogged bucket/planter. There were cardinals, robins, blue jays, finches and more. “C” stopped by on Wednesday (she spent Thanksgiving with her girlfriend’s family in Del Rio), and we called “H” (who didn’t have turkey or any sort of big meal, but did watch football with her boyfriend and his family).
We finished the first puzzle and started on another. This was the first.
And of course, dinner hit the table and we feasted. My loving hubby fixed us a healthy array of herb turkey stuffed with apples/oranges, turkey sausage and pear dressing, garlic string beans, cranberry/orange compote and pumpkin pie for dessert. Yum! I give thanks!!!
And what’s Thanksgiving without advertisements for Black Friday? No, I didn’t go shopping, but my son and I played a quick game of “slug bug”.

What did you do for Thanksgiving? Anything special?

As if training for a marathon I began a daily regimen of blogging. How can I be a writer if I don’t write, right? The daily grind is not for the faint-hearted. You’d better be writing because you love writing. If you’re escaping the real-world, the blog-world isn’t different enough. Sometimes it’s lonely here, sometimes I misunderstand others, and sometimes I’m misunderstood. I’ve found some lovely people I admire tremendously. I’ve seen good blogging and I’ve seen bad blogging. I’m still learning, growing, maturing.

As part of my training, I’ve invested in additional research. I noticed that a few of the folks I adore have been critiqued by Ask And Ye Shall Receive. Today I spent some time reviewing the reviews and studying what does or doesn’t work. The FAQ page was especially helpful. Also, there’s a review that provides tips, but the tips are buried in the midst of a ripping critique. The comments that follow (including lots of witty repartee by the ring of reviewers) are a study in psyche.

The kicker is the “How to Blog” post by Tony Pierce (a FAQ referral). The post is from June ’04 and I guess it’s so good they haven’t thought to confirm that it follows its own recommended guidelines. This advice may be questionable as the advisor disregards his own advice. Too circular?

Examples:
“10. use spellcheck unless youre completely totally keeping it real.” (look up “youre”. Blogger doesn’t catch it with spellcheck, but that doesn’t make it right. Apostrophe’s appear to be optional in Tony’s post. And “similarilly” somehow escaped his spellchecker as well).
“25. dont use your real name” (blog credited to Tony Pierce)
And a final comment: “if you’re going to ripoff/mimic/be inspired by one blogger make it raymi, shes perfect.” Raymi disregards most of the sage advice given by Tony and the ring of rippin’ reviewers. Most of the panned blogs were lambasted for punctuation, grammer, and/or other bastardization of the English language. Maybe the point is that you can make up for some sins by being stellar in content. Tony is (or was) the LA Times Blogs editor, so his suggestions should not be dismissed too quickly.

All in all I found some very useful suggestions and hopefully I can self-correct by learning from others. Eventually I will submit one or both of my blogs for the brutally honest feedback I can expect (and would accept no less).

Peace,

One day not too long ago, a young and funny mommy found my blog (linked from the NaBloPoMo). She promised to return, and she was true to her word. Although her first visit brought her a charming tale of the fish, her next visit came on a day when guilt was being spread like butter on warm toast. I was riding my angst with the throttle wide open.

Rather than run away frightened, she’s honored me with:

And she means “bad” in a good way.

RULES FOR THIS AWARD:
1. Pass it on to 5 other bad mommy bloggers. Bad is the new good, didn’t you know?
2. Link back to the award creator. (Click on the award and you’ll get to ExMi’s site)
3. Tell the recipients of your award just why you’re rewarding their badness!

Here are my favorite “bad mommy bloggers“:

1. Mama Bernard who writes on behalf of her princess. I love that you blog from your daughter’s perspective.

2. The Bloggess who contributes to Good Mom/Bad Mom. You make me laugh, and cause me to fondly remember the “young years”. Hang on to that spirit, girl!

3. TherExtras – not just a Mom to her own, but a Mom to many. She gives great advice.

4. And similarly, my friend with DownRightFaith who offers parenting tips, but even more importantly moral support for families with children who have special needs.

5. Maggie, Dammit! for keeping it real.

Honorable Mention. The Almost Royal who loves her niece as much as any mother could.

You have each lifted me up in many ways. Thank you!

Lord prepare me to be a sanctuary
Pure and Holy, tried and true
With thanksgiving I’ll be a living
Sanctuary for you

I shall be there with them. Matthew 18:20

I’m breaking free from some relationships that have become unhealthy. I knew when I shared (with the people who love me) some of the details of the unhealthy interactions, I had to be prepared for the feedback to “Run, don’t walk, to the nearest exit.”

So, as part of my moving-on, turning-over-a-new-leaf, reinventing-of-myself, I’m taking a fresh look at all of my relationships. I’m pruning my vine of branches that aren’t productive, that are draining me of energy, leaving me malnourished. By trusting God, I am filled with joy and peace.

I haven’t exactly figured out the words I’ll use to disentangle myself. I’ll choose my words carefully, prayerfully. Since I seek God’s wisdom, I must obey. Above all, I must watch my tongue. I must NOT be tempted to validate my actions. I trust that I’m doing the right thing.

And, I put myself before you as a member of the body of Christ, and I ask you to meet me here, for where we are gathered, there He will be also. Although I’m walking away from relationships, I have found new relationships in the network of bloggers. Believers who nourish me and those who are hungry for the bread that satisfies. I pray for this community of faith.

“May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.” Psalm 19:14

Blessings,

We (hubby, “T” and I) saw Fireproof this weekend. I’m not going to tout it as a candidate for an Academy award, but it deserves honorable mention.

I was 16 and it was the summer of ’81. I was working two jobs: mornings at one pool giving “water babies” swim lessons and afternoons/evenings at another pool as a lifeguard. The neighborhoods I worked in were middle- to upper-middle class. I spent all day, almost every day, in a Speedo style swim suit. I ate a can of tuna-in-water, a tomato and air-popped popcorn every day. That was it. I took up jogging. Living in a swimsuit is a great motivator for weight loss. By mid-summer I was tanned and thin and looking good. At least by Glamour standards. But what did I know? I was 16.

One evening, late in the summer, the pool where I lifeguarded had an after-hours party for the staff. There was an 18 year old boy there – a guest of another lifeguard. We hit it off and spent most of the evening chatting and flirting. I was very flattered to be getting that kind of attention. I definitely wasn’t used to it. I remember thinking “He’s so cute! And of all the girls here, he’s interested in me!”

Looking back, I can’t remember the details, but for some reason we both went to my house after the party. I parked in the driveway behind the house and he parked on the street in front of our neighbor’s house. I passed through the house and told my parents I was going to his car to look at his car stereo. They asked questions, but I blew them off as only a 16YO can. It seems like it must have been around 11pm.

We sat in his car for a while chatting. Eventually we kissed. Then, he wanted more. But I didn’t. We wrestled for a while and he taught me several submission techniques that would have made any bully proud. I thought I was strong. I was someone who did her own thing. I was a leader not a follower. Every time I tried to get out of the car he hurt me. Eventually I did what he wanted. And he let me go. Actually…he walked me to the door and kissed me. I was sick to my stomach. I had his stink on me and I wanted to shower for a week. I wanted to be left alone for a year. My head was reeling. I hadn’t had a drop to drink but I might as well have. I was numb.

When I went inside (was it 1am? 2am?), my parents and older sister were waiting. Why was my sister allowed to wait up and be a part of that scene? I believe if she hadn’t been there I might have told my parents but she was, and I didn’t. They grounded me and I went to my room. It was a while before the story came out.

Ultimately, I count my blessings. I am lucky. Others are far less fortunate than I.