For the Birds

This weather is for the birds.

There are areas of Southern California where more rain has fallen in recent days that they had in the entire year of 2007! It's wet out. And the San Fernando Valley is not set up for this much water.

Storm drains are running, but the water still flows through half a lane of traffic. Where roads usually narrow from parked cars and trash cans, and commuters usually think, "Yeah, I'm in a good mood, I'll pull over so you can get through here first," we now smile and ponder, "Sure, sucker, you go first through that puddle and I'll wait to see if you make it."

The morning walkers and joggers are nowhere to be seen. Moms and strollers on the way home from school drop offs are now moms and cars.

Yet, as I crawled through the flooded road by the peacock place, where peacocks, chickens, geese and ducks sun usually themselves in the horse arena, I saw a goose in the wading pool, splashing away merrily. Several others stood in line in the downpour as if waiting their turn.

I guess it is all a matter of viewpoint.

Living Mindfully

I don't make New Year's resolutions, and technically this is all a result of having the doctor tell me that all of my ails are stress related, but as 2007 came to a close I realized that I am not really living my life. I am rushing through it.

Once again I find myself focusing on living mindfully, experiencing the moment. Whether quilting, writing, reading or just being, I need to be aware of what is happening.

As I begin, this means not entering into projects with a deadline. Quilt swaps and challenges are fun, but not when I save them 'til the last moment to complete. Writing toward a deadline lately seems to mean a rushed story that lacks much.

I will take time to explore and learn. I will let the story direct me instead of trying to force it into a mold. I will allow first drafts and learning quilts to have flaws, and watch for improvement as I go.

Even my diet has become mindless. How can my body deal properly with stress when I can't even say what I fed it?

I might not accomplish as much, but in the long run I will have projects I can be proud of, that show my enjoyment for what I do.

Isn't that what life is about? Enjoyment?

An Adventure Begins!

I love starting a new novel! Each begins differently, a premise, a certain character or a setting. It reminds me of quilting, picking up a pattern or a piece of fabric and letting it stew in my mind until I have found the perfect combination of pieces to fit together and make the perfect quilt.

After finishing my novella, Forever Spring, and getting it off to the contest judges, I chose a setting with the same publisher in mind, then let the characters introduce themselves to me. Cathy Seavers seems very level-headed while fun-loving. Toby Williams is a hard-working cowboy prankster determined to make her forget his twin brother. Toby has been telling me of the practical jokes his family has pulled in the past, and promises loads of laughs to come!

Of course, a pair of heroes who are waiting to have their stories published are now glaring at me for not polishing their environments and giving them a chance at a cover photo. Jon McCracken continues to be most patient, as his story is the most difficult to tell. Which of his lives do I include, and how many? Danny Reames says his year is up and he and Cassie should be happily-ever-aftering, and I agree.

So many hunks, so little time! What's a writer to do?

There's a Grown-Up in My Mirror

After piling on the layers of my face this morning, I stood back for my usual inspection. How do I look?

I look...grown-up. Not old, just grown-up. When did that happen? I know when I felt grown-up for the first time. October 9, 2004. No, I didn't make an entry in my diary, I am a grown-up today. That's the day my little girl got married and I suddenly had a Son-in-Law.

That's what did it, having a son-in-law! You have to be grown-up to have one of those, don't you? They don't give them out to just anybody. No one stands on a busy street corner handing out free son-in-law coupons. You have to reach a certain station in life.

Suddenly I felt more connected with my online girlfriends who were always discussing their kids, kids-in-law and grandkids. I was no longer the tag-along. Somehow, through no effort of my own I had a new title: Mother-in-Law.


Eww, wait a minute, that doesn't have the same ring of grandiosity as having a son-in-law! Mothers-in-law are, well, you know! Am I really one of them?

Does anyone know if you can exchange these titles for something with a better fit?

Losing My Mind

I often joke about losing my mind, losing my marbles. Well, technically, I did lose my marbles once, at the ticket booth at a Pow-wow, with my daughters and several dozen strangers there to witness. I have this horrible habit of putting things in my purse until I have time to find a good place for them. I was a daycare provider at the time and someone's child, might even have been mine, had thrown a marble at a window and cracked it. Confiscating the marbles, I dropped the bagful in my purse. Days later at the Pow-wow I had to dig and dig to find my wallet. Suddenly the marbles opened and began to spill everywhere.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I think you are losing your marbles," the helpful cashier says. My daughters were just old enough to get it and haven't let me live it down.

But I digress.

Alzheimer's doesn't run in my family, nor does dementia. Losing one's train of thought does. I have inhertied my mother's tendency to embellish a tale so fully with details that the details become the better part of the story. It's very entertaining but makes it difficult to make a point. In almost every conversation, my mother reaches a point where she says, "Now, where was I going with this?"

It came to me one day. "Mom, you need to leave a trail of breadcrumbs to find your way back to your topic."

I haven't reached that point yet. Or won't admit to it. I know what I set out to say here. I had a woman on my mind who has just had to put her husband in a nursing home, as his Alzheimer's has gotten beyond her ability to keep him safe. He still has some awareness of reality at times and knows his mind is retreating into recesses from which he will one day never come back.

That thought terrifies me! I know my body will fail with time, should I be lucky enough to have the time. I have seen what aging does to the mind and I want so badly to steer away from that path. I may soon begin hording breadcrumbs, or writing key thoughts on little notecards that I can whip out like the Best Writer at the Oscar's. I'll buy myself a St. Bernard and fill his keg with all my scribbles of phrases I felt important enough to note, or hire a trail guide. Maybe I need to post a map above my computer, "You Are Here."

It could work. I'll probably be telling the same three tales over and over, as my mother does. All I will need is a well-marked trail to get me to the end of my path.

Here I am, Stuck in the 80s with You

I don't know if it has to do with having been a Valley Girl or if it is just the age I was at the time, but I am SO stuck in the 80s, it's sometimes hard to function normally!

I mean, like, was there anything so totally awesome abut the 80s that it needs to stick around, or worse yet, be brought back?

Admittedly, it was the only time in my life when I could let my hair do what it wanted and be totally in fashion. And my little girls looked so cute in the Madonna clothes! I do miss lycra mini skirts, but I miss the body I was putting into them more.

The music? Well. I was and will always be a hair band kinda girl, and there were some bands with great hair! Their music, though, when I replay it, kinda makes me go, "Hmmm."

My daughter bought a CD of hair band ballads. Please! Metal ballads is an oxymoron and we now have a CD to prove it!

I would say I miss the language, but I never gave it up! I am so sure, like, when I am 90 and at a Bon Jovi Concert, I'll, like, turn to my husband and say, "Isn't this just totally gnarly? For sure!"

Life is tubular, dudes. The 80s will be back.

Morning

Your tender touches invade my dreams and
Hasten my return to the world of reality.
I hear your whispered utterances as you
Test to see if I am awake
I feel your kneading, feel your weight shift as I roll to face you.

I open my eyes to your dark face.

Happy Valentine's Day, Rescue Kitty
I am happy you are in my life, too!