Oh Well!


In the past, I would have been quite upset.

In the past, I would have been ten times bent out of shape because my plans were derailed.

In the past, . . . well you get the idea. I make plans,  they get trashed. You’d think I would get used to it by now, but no.

I can’t afford to get upset over this anymore, it’s not worth it. I can choose to go with the flow, adapt, overcome, and change directions on the fly. Well, sort of.

OK, so maybe I don’t adapt on the fly. There are a few kinks and jagged edges before I accept the inevitable. Alright,  in some cases I am downright pouty that my plans were trashed. Like my plans for January – trashed. I haven’t been in the “Oh well” frame of mind.  I’ve been in the ‘toddler kicking and screaming mentally’ stage. Hey, I know my truth and at least I’m honest about it!

Real mature, I know. I need to adapt a more French “C’est le Vie” approach, or  the “que sera sera” or a more Bohemian -“Oh well.” attitude.

Changing your habits and behavior is a difficult thing and sometimes those learned responses that are programmed into the rabbit tracks of our brains,  you know the automatic responses, still show up even when you think you’ve kicked it.  It’s the same type of thing that triggers PTSD, seriously it’s the same brain parts. I know y’all don’t want to talk about the amygdala and the reticular formation so we will move on.

For example, I had laid out a plan for my blog with themed days again. Mojo Monday with my motivational posts to stir myself and others up! Tasty Tuesday where I will share new tasty Cancer friendly meals. I was undecided on Wednesdays and Thursdays, Fridays would be the MFRW posts, and Sunday to get back to the WeWriWa snippets.

Then . . . LIFE HAPPENS. First, it was the flu, even after getting a flu shot. Then the therapy appointments and doctor appointments. Then, family in the hospital, then funerals, then more people in the hospital,  then the big appointments with the oncologist. (We’ll address that at a later time when I’ve processed things fully and can  be calm.)

All of this has left me with little left to give out, feeling exhausted and drained emotionally and physically. Not that y’all aren’t important to me,  because I’ve told y’all before, I get super excited when I get a new follower, or someone leaves a comment. It really is a high point in my day! But there comes a time when there are other life matters that take priority over what I want, over a self-imposed deadline that only really matters to me.

Seeing a loved one in the hospital in pain,  or the nerve-wracking waiting for them to be out of surgery. This is when you have to accept the moment, be in the moment and realize that the most important parts of our lives are the friends and family we love and that love us.

You are only truly blessed when you love and are loved.

I think this is one of the really sad part of our current society, people will spend hours on social media, yet isolate themselves from the people who care about them.

Do yourself a favor.  Put down your phone, get off your tablet and engage with someone. Call your mom, ask her what’s for dinner and tell her how much you appreciate her. Call your sister you haven’t seen or talked to in weeks or months. Go visit your kids and grandkids! Life is too short.

We need to embrace the moments of joy that life offers. Make part of this year’s goals be spending real time with friends and families and living life.

I have a lot more I’d like to say,  but I need to go to the hospital to visit my sister. The “tyranny of the should haves” is really working overtime on me and I don’t want to add to it.

Go! Live! Laugh! Enjoy life.  Have dinner with someone you love! Visit a friend or at least call. That’s what our phones are really for.

Write on my friends, write on!

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Christmas At Home


Welcome to Flash Fest December!

I have some author friends who have joined me in this challenge, and are contributing to the prize baskets!

The winner for last week’s Prize Basket is:

Nina Valdez!  Nina, I will be contacting you!

This week’s prize basket:

  • $5 Amazon gift card
  • Free e-book for Red Wine & Roses, contemporary romance
  • Swag bag
  • e-book of What We’ve Unlearned: English Class Goes Punk (The Writerpunk Project Book 4
  • e-book of Holiday Fling, contemporary romance

This is how the prize giveaway will work:

Leave a comment throughout the week on any blog post, whether it’s the blog hop, flash, guest spot, or weekend writing warriors. I will select one of the commenters through Randompicker and post it on Monday’s post. That person can contact me on Facebook or email me at: l.e.mcatee@gmail.com.

The challenge is to write a flash piece, 500 to 1000 words based on a Holiday tune as a prompt. The author was given the option to select their own or I would assign one. Trust me,  my list of holiday tunage is anything but traditional!

The Island of Misfit Toys

Christmas at Home

Black Mountain Pack

by Miranda Lynn

The offkey sound of four young cubs voices ringing together echoed through the house, each throwing their own spin on a classic Christmas song while their mothers warmed the kitchen with baking.

“Why are we all such a misfits?
I am not just a nit wit!
I’m an adorable
Fox…panther…lynx
Why don’t we fit in?”

 

That caterwauling has to stop,” Sterling grumbled.

Rea headed Sterling off as he marched towards the living room. “Let them enjoy themselves. I remember growing up and this time of year was the only happy times I remember. I know their life isn’t like mine was but these classics bring a sense of joy and happiness. Let them be kids.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and silenced his response with a searing kiss.

“Alright for now I’ll leave them. What are you two up to?”

“We’re making Christmas cookies, want to help?” Reana grabbed a pot holder and took out the cookie sheet from the oven replacing it with another full of dough ready to bake.

A cold breeze blasted them as the back door once again opened admitting more of the family. Jerome and Suzanne stomped their boots on the rug before removing them. Suzanne made the rounds hugging everyone. “Where are the cubs?”

In the living room watching Rudolph.” Casey replied kissing Jerome’s cheek in greeting.

“What is that horrible sound?” Mack cringed as he and Sterling came in the kitchen door.

“The children are watching Christmas cartoons and singing with the songs.” Casey answered as she raised her cheek for a kiss.

“They sound like they are dying.” Sterling grimaced.

“Oh give them a break, they are enjoying the classic fun of Christmas shows. Frosty, The Grinch, and currently Rudolph.” Reana laughed.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, we need to introduce them to the real classics. Like Die Hard, now that’s a Christmas movie for the ages.” Mack laughed as he avoided the smack of Casey’s hand.

The singing increased in the living room, the out of tune voices welcome.

“Again, that’s the fourth time today!” Suzanne chuckled moving into the living room. “Who has sugar’s for Meme?” Squeals answered her question.

Jerome smiled as he followed his nose to the finished cookies cooling on the counter. Casey smacked his hand away as he grabbed for one. “They haven’t been iced yet Da, you’ll have to wait.”

“An Alpha never has to wait.” He harrumphed and grabbed for one again.

“If that Alpha wants to eat at all he will.” Casey smacked his hand again.

Mack leaned against the counter enjoying the happiness that filled his heart. His mate, his cubs, his parents, and the rest of those he called family were all gathered for the holidays enjoying some much needed down time. They had gathered at Sterling’s house this year but he planned to have them all come down next year to experience Christmas on a different continent. For now though he would soak up all he could because he knew tomorrow could bring more troubles and dangers. Being shifters, as they were, there would always be fighting one enemy or another.

“What’s running through that head of yours son?” Jerome handed off a confiscated cookie.

“Just trying to enjoy the day, Da. The quiet before the storm you could say.” Mack bit into the gooey chocolate chip cookie his father had handed him.

“As you should, we can’t predict what tomorrow brings, we can only enjoy the joy we find today.”

“Here here.” Sterling agreed handing glasses of eggnog to everyone. “I agree with Jerome, let us enjoy the happiness we have today with each other and let it strengthen us for what may come in the future. Cheers and Merry Christmas everyone.”

Everyone clinked glasses as the cubs ran in hugging their parents and grandparents and stealing a cookie or two from the counter. Jerome and Suzanne gazed on as their son and their closest friend enjoyed the happiness the Fates had provided them and prayed more of their pack would soon find theirs.
~~~~~~

 

About the author:

Travel and Paranormal Romance author. Her Destiny series takes you on a roller

coaster ride through time with sexy

Highlanders and sassy female heroines. If shifters are your kryptonite, then check out her Black Mountain Pack

series, which throws a twist on the traditional shifter lore.

Miranda is a mother to two teenage boys

who are sure they know it all, a 75lb lapdog and a 15lb foot warmer. She is thankful her husband doesn’t mind the extra voices in her head.

Miranda is an only child who grew up on a dairy farm in Illinois which left her plenty of time to make up stories in her head for entertainment. She currently resides in

Tennessee where she wonders if Mother Nature will ever stop with the hormonal mood swings. She fuels herself with coffee, chocolate, and wine.

Social Media Links:

Website: www.mirandalynn.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Miranda-Lynn/e/B00P0D9X2S/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MirandaLynnBks/

Facebook Readers Group:https://www.facebook.com/groups/367841766921211/?ref=bookmarks

Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/authormirandalynn/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9287768.Miranda_Lynn

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/miranda-lynn

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MirandaLynnBks

 

 

Don’t forget to leave a comment and show Miranda appreciation for her wonderful story as well as be entered into the drawing for this week’s prize!

Write on my friends, write on.

 

A Blue Christmas


Welcome to Flash Fest December!

I have some author friends who have joined me in this challenge, and are contributing to the prize baskets!

This week’s prize basket:

  • $5 Amazon gift card
  • Free e-book for Red Wine & Roses
  • Swag bag
  • e-book of Protected By His Grace

This is how the prize giveaway will work:

Leave a comment throughout the week on any blog post, whether it’s the blog hop, flash, guest spot, or weekend writing warriors. I will select one of the commenters through Randompicker and post it on Monday’s post. That person can contact me on Facebook or email me at: l.e.mcatee@gmail.com.

The challenge is to write a flash piece, 500 to 1000 words based on a Holiday tune as a prompt. The author was given the option to select their own or I would assign one. Trust me,  my list of holiday tunage is anything but traditional!

Blue Christmas by Sheryl Crow

Blue Christmas

by

Nina Valdez

“Noel? Is that really your name? Oh my Gosh! That’s so festive!”

Yea, yea, yea… My name is Christmasy, I know. I Don’t want to be a Scrooge. It just seems like starting December 1st, I start getting triggered like crazy.

I smile at the cashier but I’m sure it looked more like a grimace because she kind of turned red and whispered, “Sorry.”

Red. I picked up my bag of every blue glittery ornament I could find. It was a bit of a splurge but Cobalt Blue is my favorite color, glitter just makes me happy, Aaaannd… I may or may not have had a bit of a breakdown last night and all of our red decorations stashed in my parents’ attic that I had collected so carefully fifteen/ fourteen/… up to ten years ago mysteriously got broken… I realized I was smiling sadly standing in the snow, freezing my butt off!

I chuckled and threw my bag over into the passenger seat so I could scramble into my little Toyota pickup and get that heater cranking! Here’s the deal, I have been imagining the perfect man for me since I was two. Yes, two. Also, I am a touch love language so not having a significant other in my life has been literally excruciating throughout my life. So naturally, I have been looking forward to and saving little trinkets etc. here and there, for when I got married.

When I finally got together with my ex eleven years ago, I could have sworn He was the one. He was literally ninety-eight percent perfect on paper. He didn’t have tattoos and he wasn’t in the same industry as me. That was the only things off. Or so I thought.

Did I mention that I’m a Model and Actress? Plus Model, I guess I have to specify.

*Insert eye-roll here.*  Most people still look me up and down like, “Yea, O.K…”

But I know who I am. So anyway, I was like – dang! Ninety-eight percent Is probably the best I’m going to find right?

Our first date was on December third. My life literally went straight from heaven to hell in about an hour that followed. We stayed together till December first, about three years after that. Thank God though. I could finally breathe without being contradicted and sleep without… bad things happening.

I snapped out of my reverie to realize I was idling in my driveway with no idea how I had gotten there. That’s not good. I mean, the store is less than a mile away but, Geez!

I have got to get my life together! So I grabbed my bag and picked my way around the slippery bits of the walkway to my camper. One day it will be a legit tiny house, but for now, my little pink and white 1954 Arrow was home. I shivered as I climbed in the door. Thank God it was still cozy and warm with the last embers glowing in the mini wood chip stove I had put in last summer. I tossed a few more pine cones in it and pushed them around a bit till they lit up nicely.

Ooh! The tea kettle was still nice and hot on top. Tonight my soul needed a good cup of hot cocoa! And a movie, something hopeful. You know how people say they are “hopeless romantics”? Well, despite all my baggage and trigger-happy anxiety issues, I prefer to call myself a hope-full romantic.

There is this thing in the Bible where Paul is talking, and he calls himself a “Prisoner of Hope…” There could be no better description of me.

So I crank the carols up on the radio while I slather every bit the of less than 100 square feet of my home in twinkle lights and blue glittery things. When everything was finally swagged to my satisfaction, I opened my little kitchenette cabinet to grab the cocoa mix and a mug and… I was out of cocoa mix.

Ya’ll don’t understand. I know you are thinking, just have tea. Or a nice decaf latte, or Chai, or something. Because in the sliver that is my kitchenette at least half my cabinet space is indeed taken up with every kind of drink mix… Hot drinks may or may not be my drug of choice. But no. I NEEDED that hot cocoa. On a night like tonight, with a cheesy movie and the lights twinkling off of every shimmery piece of Christmas cheer in my cozy little world. After a day like today, and a month like this month. I needed my chocolate!

So I was off to face that cashier again with my face burning this time. And as I was rounding the corner to the Coffee/ Tea/ Hot Chocolate aisle Blue Christmas came on the store radio and, “Ooof.” I Ran straight into a slightly less than a solid brick wall. I looked up into the biggest gray-blue eyes I have ever seen set off by the dark blue dye job on his mess of curly hair. The wall steadied me, gently gripping my arms and to my surprise, I found myself gripping his rugged ink enhanced forearms. I’m pretty sure all those blue snowflakes that they were talking about on the radio melted when he didn’t let go.

It’s been a couple of years now. He still hasn’t let go. Decembers have not been the same since that night.

Did I mention that Blue is my favorite color?

~~~~~~

About the author:

 

 

You can find Nina at:

Nina Valdez on Facebook

Nina Valdez on Instagram

Nina Valdez on Twitter

Nina Valdez on Youtube

 

Don’t forget to leave a comment and show Nina appreciation for her wonderful story as well as be entered into the drawing for this week’s prize!

Write on my friends, write on.

 

Meet my Furbaby, Ginger #MFRW


Week 43 – Meet my Pet, MFRW blog Hop.

My furbaby, Ginger is a golden chow. That is a golden retriever mixed with a chow. Her mother was a golden, and the father was a red chow. When she came to us,  she was a fluffy fat bellied fuzzball with a broken tail.

After weeks of deworming, and TLC for her poor little tail, she quickly adapted to being the third puppy in our home. I don’t know what order she was in her own litter,  but for a while, she asserted her dominance over our youngest daughter.  I began watching to see what was going on, and our youngest would lay on the floor and put Ginger on her tummy and pet her. Well, to a dog that is a sign of submission. It didn’t take but a few weeks for both of them  – my daughter and the puppy, to get the order of dominance.

Ginger still pushed it a few times, and Hannah was afraid of her when she would growl, or bark to assert herself.  To Hannah’s defense,  she was just a kid at the time and Ginger seemed like a big dog to her. Now that Hannah towers over me, Ginger only comes to her knees.

She is the most lovable, happy, easy going dog I’ve ever had in my life. That’s saying something because when I was growing up we had a St. Bernard, a gentle giant. He was like an overgrown puppy with a sweet disposition.

Recently, we had to take Ginger to the vet because she was acting disoriented, drunk, was staggering and falling down. Two days of testing and xrays led the vet to determine that she has a brain tumor. Ginger is 13 years old, her muzzle is grey, and has recently dropped weight from her usual 50ish pounds down to barely 40 pounds.

She is a prima donna when it rains,  prancing around with an “I don’t like to get my paws wet” tiptoe around the wet grass.  She loves peanut butter, she loves her mom – me! In the time we have left with her,  we are spoiling her silly with peanut butter and honey sandwiches – by the instruction of the vet because as an old dog, she is showing some signs of low blood sugar at times. Dogs get diabetes too!

Her coat isn’t as full as it once was, but then again my hair has thinned this past year as well.

We will continue to spoil her during the remainder of her time with us. Love my baby!! She helps me with my stress management.

What about you? What kind of pet do you have? You can read what the other authors have to say:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Write on my friends, write on!

Suddenly


Hey, everyone!

How to write the post I need to write . . .  there is no real clever way so with all the tact I can muster, I’m going to plunge in.

With the A to Z Challenge, I left off with the letter O. I have a new word, that inadvertently has everything to do with my own writing right now –

ONCOLOGY

On March 28, I had my annual OBGYN visit. I shared some concerns with her about the girl parts, namely issues that indicate menopause.  She sent me to the Imaging center for a pelvic sonogram, and the annual mammogram. I expected some news on the lower region but not the tatas.

A scheduled date for a routine procedure for the girl parts was made. Later that day, I got a call saying I needed to return for an additional mammogram and breast ultrasound because I had some areas of concern. OK, that’s a bit disconcerting but no biggie, right? I figured fibrocystic breast syndrome because the girls aren’t exactly smooth like a muscle,  they are kind of like a well-used pillow. NO, I’m not going into detail on that but after nursing two babies, being a ‘mature’ woman I’m grateful they don’t drag the floor.

April 6th I go back for these additional tests and the Dr. that oversees the imaging center came in and told me that it’s cancerous. BUT, don’t worry, most of the time it’s benign.  He had one of those plastic forced smiles that is used to break bad news. I instantly don’t trust him.

April 12th, I have a Fine Needle Aspiration biopsy. Don’t let anyone fool you – it hurts. “Oh, you’ll just feel some pressure and hear a click” LIARS!!! 

IT HURT!  IT HURT FOR DAYS AFTER!  IT still hurts as the bruised area changes from purple to greenish yellow.

I wait for the verdict phone call which was supposed to happen either last Tuesday or Wednesday that never came. On one hand, no news is good news.  If they don’t call it can’t be too urgent right?

WRONG!

I called on Thursday because I suck at waiting patiently.

STAGE 1 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.

Yeah, that’s something you want to hear when you are in the office alone. I mean, literally alone. There wasn’t another breathing soul in the office complex.

The only time I’ve ever known doctors to act fast is when it’s serious so it didn’t alleve my fears when they called back to confirm an appointment with an oncology surgeon for the next day. Friday the 21st was a marathon. I would gladly attempt a running marathon as opposed to my day. The doctor explained completely with drawing little illustrations to emphasize the points. My options were presented to me, initial treatment assessment was discussed, and then it was off to the labs for more tests.

Bloodwork – one of my big fears about this whole thing is the needles. I have small veins, they are deep (being fat isn’t the only reason for this) and they roll. When I get blood drawn they use a child’s butterfly needle. What is going to happen if I have to go through chemotherapy and they blow my veins? I don’t have enough time to build my cardio level to have super veins like my husband. He makes a fist and the veins just pop out. Of course, that would look bad on me as a female.

Chest x-ray, EKG, new mammogram, additional close up mammogram slides, 3D Ultrasound – I was there from 8 in the morning until almost 5 at night.

I’ve had the weekend to digest all of this.  I’ve shared with close family what the diagnosis is and the plan for treatment, and have even shared on my Facebook account.  I was almost at a place of peace about accepting this. Nobody wants to go through this. Nobody chooses cancer.

Then, I get another call. Just a few minutes ago actually. I have to go back for an MRI and a second biopsy of additional spots that they found. This may determine whether or not I can have a lumpectomy or have to have the full mastectomy.

I’m not sharing to gain your sympathy. I’m not sharing because I overshare – if anything I hear from people that I don’t let others in, don’t share what’s really going on.

This isn’t about writing yet it is.  I write with passion. My passion. Passion for life, passion about love relationships, passion about the emotions we go through. My plan for today was to share some more from Roxy, a segment that I’ve recently tackled – one that was very difficult to tackle and I had to be in the right headspace to do. Ironically I had to draw on the raw emotions of my own mother’s funeral to write this. I’d put it off for weeks, but finally tackled it and was quite proud of myself for not only tackling it,  I think I did a pretty good job on it as well.

Then I get this news.  Well hell!  Oh trust me, I could write the emotional scene now. I could pour my heart out on the pages and nobody is the wiser that it was me going through this emotional tidal wave with the diagnosis of ‘You have breast cancer’.

Ironically, Roxy’s mother died after a long battle with breast cancer. Should I wait and experience first hand and rewrite? Should I proceed with it as scheduled? I know that women dying from breast cancer is rare, it’s usually when it’s metastasized beyond the breast and invaded other organs. Ultimately it started with breast cancer, and Roxy’s mother was a woman that put off her own medical treatment until it became critical.

For me, they caught it early with the mammogram. Of that I am grateful. Ladies, don’t put it off.  I still can’t feel any lumps even knowing that it’s there. I don’t have a family history of it. I don’t have the usual symptoms that indicate cancer.  In all of my regular doctor’s comments about concerns for being overweight he never said cancer was one of them. Now as I am reading the material provided to me by the breast cancer center, obesity can lead to cancer. Heart disease and diabetes were on my mind, not cancer. Never cancer.We hear the words “save the tatas” and kind of laugh, but we do the self-exams. It has become a reality for me now. This is a path I never wanted to go down but am forced to embark on this journey.

We hear the words “save the tatas” and kind of laugh, but we do the self-exams. It has become a reality for me now. This is a path I never wanted to go down but am forced to embark on this journey. April 20th is a day of demarcation for me. My life as I knew it ended that day, so tears were to be expected. Tears of grieving for what was,  what dreams may die, all of the changes that have to be made and tears to face the great unknown.  A little encouragement for saving the woman would be appreciated.

I’ll try to stay away from the pity parties but from time to time I will be sharing my struggles in this battle. I’m not looking forward to the needles. Not looking forward to losing part of my breast or the full breast or breasts depending on what they find. Not looking forward to possibly losing my hair. Not looking forward to much of any of this,  but it’s the path I’ve been put on and I’ll make the best of a bad situation.  I come from good stock and I am my mother’s daughter. My mother was ” a tough old bird”. I hope I have half as much chutzpah as she did.

I plan to continue writing, still pushing for my delayed deadline and praying that I don’t have to push it back further. The A to Z challenge . . . I don’t have the energy to continue that now. I thought about making a video, but I didn’t think I could get through it without an ugly cry and who needs to see that?

Hope you stick around to see me come out the other end of this!

Write on my friends, write on!

Ellie

A Progress Report of Sorts


My life has been derailed by a flu bug. I didn’t manage to get the blog hop post up on Friday – I barely managed to remain conscious for part of the day and the following couple of days. There is a long list of things I didn’t get done over the last few days. SIGH. Moving on, some tasks will have to be made up while others will have to be let go, deleted, or put back into rotation at a later date.

Up until now, I’ve been opposed to flu shots thinking that this was akin to the perpetual overly prescribed use of antibiotics that have aided in the creation of super bugs. Well, after this bout of influenza,  I am willing to succumb to the poke.

Anyway, enough about that.  A brief update on the list of things to do for the month:

Editing –  finished one book which was amazing! I am so excited for the release on this one. Have made progress on another editing job,  about three-fourths of the way completed, but waiting on payment. Also, I’ve picked up a couple more editing jobs. HA-  what’s a few more irons in the fire, right?

Writing – alas,  this was put on the back burner while tackling the next item on the list. It figures, right? When I get a plan in place of what I want to do, the direction I want to go in, then life throws a curve ball. It sometimes seems that the universe conspires against me. It’s time for the universe to start working with me, however. I have made up my mind that this is going to be my first priority, even over the editing.  For one, I think it will do me good to set the editing voice on the back burner,  she’s causing me to second guess practically every word I write down.  There are thousands of words that are going through my mind,  that sound like gold inside my head.

Online Course Requirements for the new job – this has been priority one for me. I haven’t done real well at juggling, in fact, I set everything else aside so that I could focus on this. Until the flu had its way with me.  I sat down Thursday morning to go through the second module for the longest class, only to end in failing the quiz. *Hangs head in shame*  The saying goes, most of the things that we worry about never happen. It’s true.

I spent a couple of hours spiraling into an all-out panic attack. I could already tell the fever was getting worse. The achiness wracked my entire body. My head was pounding. You think maybe, just maybe, that might have played a part in my less than stellar academic performance? Seems rational now but at the time I didn’t see it. When I couldn’t get back into the course, I panicked.  As my symptoms increased, my anxiety was through the roof.

After a while though, I had to stop. I’ll omit the graphic details, but  I didn’t willingly stop. Mr. Influenza didn’t exactly ask me if I wanted to spend the majority of my time in the bathroom. I had all of  the what if I don’t pass/ I’ll lose the job/but I feel like crap/ they don’t care/ license requirements don’t make exceptions for special snowflakes/ life isn’t fair/ oh my god I feel horrible/suck it up and  try again/I’m locked out/ now what do we do?/ contact them NOW/ it’s in their hands/ get some rest . . . this is when it got crazy.  I gave up on the course and sat down on the sofa. Immediately I had dozed off fitfully. I had chills so bad, the queen sized comforter wasn’t enough. My temperature was blazing hot, my heart was pounding in my chest – I knew I needed some sleep. So, when I moved to my bed, my nasal congestion immediately got worse and I literally couldn’t breathe. Yeah, add that to the mix! Because, you know things aren’t bad enough yet.  I needed sleep. I couldn’t sleep. Now I was afraid to go to sleep, what if I didn’t wake up? I mean, breathing is kind of a necessity.

I bounded out of bed like I had springs in my butt. The chills were gone and the fever was blazing. I considered going outside onto my front porch –  even in my state of undress. Who cares if anyone saw me in my undies, I needed fresh air STAT!  Now, doesn’t it just figure that we had record high temps in February? Going outside didn’t really help much. It felt just as stifling out there as it did inside. I ended up getting a cold washcloth and wiping my face, neck arms, stomach, legs, then repeating.  I was in this  fugue state of panic/fear/exhaustion.  I had taken some Nyquil and a couple of tylenol for the fever, but they had yet to kick in.

Misty suggested that I go through this technique to bring me down from the anxiety, which worked after several repetitions enough for me to relax so that I could at least breathe. It doesn’t help that my sister told me that people die from the flu! Not what I needed to hear just then.

Anyway, once the fever had dropped enough that I didn’t feel as if my brain was boiling, and the meds had kicked in enough that I could at least breathe, I decided that I would give my bed another go. Exhaustion can do strange things to you. Rest is the best thing you can do for yourself when you’re sick. I’m a terrible patient. There are things that need to be done, chores that don’t get done unless I do them.

Sometimes it takes an emergency to put things into perspective that if it doesn’t get done without me, maybe it isn’t really that vitally important. Has anyone ever died from dirty dishes left undone? Laundry accumulating? NO! It was waiting for me when I started feeling better. I have a lot of mixed emotions about that,  but in the end, I take care of it.

By Saturday morning I was feeling a little better. However, the hubs now had it. While he slept, I wrapped myself in a cocoon of blanketed warmth, got myself a new box of tissues, and put the kettle on for a constant refilling of hot tea. I made those classes my bitch! Owned those suckers with a final score of 92 out of 100. Hey, not bad considering I was under the weather. That material is dry, dull, boring, legaleze jargon that could put anyone into a comatose state.

Anyway, after completing the course I moved to the sofa where I crashed hard for  the remainder of the day. That’s my big accomplishment –  I have aced the courses ahead of schedule even while having the flu!  TADA!

*Throws confetti* This calls for a celebration!  Since I missed celebrating publishing my 500th post – which was One Phone Call,  completing my MLO classes is certainly means for celebrating.

Anyway, now that I’m moving back towards a healthy state, it’s time to tackle those undone things.

Write on my friends, write on! I promise less ranting next time!

Ellie

 

 

22 Days Since my Last Confession


It’s been . . . wow has it really been that long? It’s been 22 days since my last post. Not good, not good at all.

I have no excuses. There were days when I planned on posting,  I even have half of a dozen posts in the archives because after writing them, they just didn’t feel quite right. Maybe a future day or maybe I’ll just delete them – who knows.

“Only the shadow knows.”

Stepping into the ‘Way-back’ machine for a moment, in my last post  on January 18th I shared this bit:  

I’ve been working on my current WIP, Roxy Sings the Blues. Revising, editing, rewriting, . . . and  I just wasn’t happy with it. It wasn’t flowing.  It wasn’t drawing me forward even and I am the author! I had to take a serious look at this and step back to evaluate what I had as opposed to where I wanted this to go.

I set it aside for a couple of days as I researched master plots. This was prompted when I was trying to convey my story idea to a wonderful lady who is kind of mentoring me in my writing. OK, I was a persistent nag until she took me under her wing. I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I was working through her class, had fully developed character worksheets,  even made myself character cards to stick on my bulletin board. I spent 4 days working on shaping my plot into a reasonable timeline and developing the major nine points of my plot. I thought I had it all worked out.  It seemed logical. There were twists, turns,  lovable characters, one that you love to hate. . . I thought I was ready to go.

Of course when it was time to meet,  either my computer or hers was acting glitchy and we couldn’t connect for video chat. So we went to the phones.  I have to be honest, the fan-girling had to be tampered down under control before I could get any semblance of intelligible speech out of my mouth.

Alright, enough of the flashback. So what have I been doing with myself these past 22 days that I couldn’t be bothered to post on my blog?

I’m so glad you asked!

Yeah, that part above . . . in the midst of my sulk-fest, when  I got me out-of-the-way,  the ideas came like a grand finale of a fireworks display. One day to the sulk-fest, two days to get my ideas sorted into some semblance of intelligible speech/writing. ( My poor husband, Y’all should have pity on him. He’s the one that actually had to face the many phases of creativity.) A day and a half with two friends and eventually the hubby to take the pieces of the puzzle I had and make an entirely new picture. A half of a day lost to other things –  you know someone has to cook the meals. Two more days were given to brainstorming and ordering things.

Just a note here –  one of the things I like to do, and this may not work for everyone, is to write out my ideas on pieces of paper. Ideally, sticky notes would work for this but I was out of sticky notes.  OK fine – I wasn’t out of them I just couldn’t find any right then.  There are times when you need it NOW and you don’t have time to search the office, the desk, or the box of stuff you cleared off of the table.  Now the slips of paper are interchangeable on a large board  AKA my wall,  which I moved a few around to make more sense then numbered them from 1 to 25 and added a couple of transitions in between reaching my 30 points of light, er story.

Three days to let it sit while I worked on an editing job, hoping that things would mesh. Another day to go over and move a couple more things around slightly.  A couple of days for family/ married life – don’t judge!
Then the fun began. Six days of feeling like death warmed over until my daughter drove me to urgent care where they prescribed three medications for my illness.

Oh Joy! Fun fact –  the one medicine turned my pee bright neon orange. Let me tell you if that wasn’t a shocker!  That could really be used to freak someone out if played right, but sadly I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to exploit it.

OH, don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t do it. Alas, I missed my window of opportunity.

So that leaves us two days where I had to redo some of the edit calls I made while feverish. I have my notes transferred to index cards in a neat little numbered stack that are right here beside my laptop. Now I can move from one card to the next, not wondering where do I go from here, not bored because I already know what’s coming,  but focused on that one card before I  go to the next.

This is the best method I have come up with for me. It doesn’t inhibit my creative flow or stifle the voice of the muse,  yet it reconciles my sense of order and OCD-ness.

Most of you know I’m not a neat freak, but I do like order.

So, February is shaping up to be a better month for me. I have a plan to move forward in my writing. I have 2 editing jobs on my desk and I am excited to get busy with these three projects. ( My writing plus the two jobs I have the privilege of editing.)

Glad that you’ve stuck with me so far,  things are going to get better.  I still haven’t  gotten my pizza fix, but maybe that’s for the best as I am serious about losing the weight I have gained. One bad thing about being a writer is the backside spread which has been complicated by the back injury.

Objects at rest tend to want to stay at rest and resist exercise. Regardless, I’ve laced up the New Balance and hit the track despite the cool weather. SIGH – ain’t nobody going to do it for me.

Nobody is going to write this book for me and nobody is going to whip this dough girl back into shape but me.

I’ve got a lot of work ahead. I hope you’ll join me in the upcoming weeks as I share tidbits of this new improved tale along with my usual sagacious wit.

You know you love me,  that’s why you keep coming back, right?

Write on my friends, write on!

Ellie

 

 

 

 

Issues of Life


The past few days have been an emotional rollercoaster for me. It’s times like this that I question Cassidy’s sanity. I mean, who would choose this?

We had such a good day on Saturday, I suppose it was inevitable that the wheels should fall off on Sunday.  While tackling one project, I was being pulled by someone else’s project, continually asked questions until I reached a point where I had to stop what I was working on.

First off, this project was one that I had procrastinated on to the point that I couldn’t put it off any longer.  I needed to get it done. So I was already aggravated.

The project that my husband was asking questions about, was valid for him to ask me questions as it was pertaining to our finances. Then everything degenerated down from there. *hangs head*

How many of us know, I mean really know that you can’t compartment your life like a waffle into little squares? If you can manage that then message me  and share how you do it.

In my world, things are all interconnected like a woven cloth. The white strand touches twenty others. Or you can look at it like the plate of spaghetti. Well, I got my spaghetti all over his waffles.

If we are being  honest,  it’s more like spaghetti. How we view our finances are affected by a) our upbringing, b) past problems c) expectations d) fears e)our relationship with the financial partner. All of those factors come into play at some point and are often expressed through what we communicate.

I’m not going to  tell you all about our finances,  that’s not what this is about. We have some differences between us about them that we will work out. My problem is the underlying problems that come out in  moments like this.

I have been so guilty of this in the past,  that I am acutely aware  of carefully choosing my words and not blasting my first thoughts without a filter. The filter needs to be applied to similar problems in the past, past words that were spoken, past situations that you’ve been through,   past fights over the subject. . . it all plays a part to the emotions that come up with the current topic.

In a microsecond, our brain goes to our retrieval file and pulls up the entire folder on how we feel about finance anything. Last time we got into a fight – shields up. We’ve been married for a few years,  there has been more than one fight over finances. In most marriages, there is one that spends and one that saves. I’m the spender and I know you aren’t surprised.

My issue with this whole thing is not the finances.  It’s not about how much I spent because I know that I spent too much. It’s  the comments that cut me to the core that are outside of the topic that are affecting the statements made.

The current plan isn’t working, so I need to rethink, reevaluate, and make a new plan. How ironic that  I got a notification this morning that  two readers liked my post, Unceasing. Wow, thank you for that reminder. I needed to hear that.  I needed to be reminded that it’s not the negative words of someone else. It’s not getting validation from anyone else. The reason I write, and that I will NOT stop pursuing my dream even if it is at a snail’s pace, is because it is part of who I am.

I had some amazing  friends encourage me in this  matter, some were kind loving words, others were  straight and to the point, and yet others were tactlessly pointed out,  but valid all the same.

On one hand, it is devastating to hear that  a loved one doesn’t believe in your vision.  That’s ok. It’s not his vision after all but mine.  It’s not his place to validate me or give me approval. I need to do this for myself. On the other hand, it’s good to know where they stand so that I can adjust my course, my expectations accordingly.

Giving up on my dream isn’t going to make him think any differently but it will certainly make me think differently.  It would be quitting on myself and I can’t do that.

I’m not angry anymore. I’m not hurt either. I know that I am taking the road less traveled.  This is my path and it needs to coincide with our path as much as his career path does also. Neither of us is wrong, just different.

Sometimes we embrace the differences, other times we accept them.

Soon I will have important news to share and to think, I almost  quit just before the finish line – tsk tsk.

It’s all good! Write on my friends, write on!

Ellie

 

 

Revision #32


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For as many years as I have been an adult, I’ve always  implemented a bit of advice my father shared with me during a fishing trip.

He had asked me what my plans were for a future career.  At that time, I was planning to pursue  becoming a psychiatrist. After he explained to me how many additional years of schooling that would require, I decided to change courses. I sometimes wish  I hadn’t but that is neither here nor there. The point is adjusting my course.

“There are several options that are available to you. College has a limit, however. Your scholarship will only cover four years, so make those four years count. Make certain that the path you choose is the one you want. You can always adjust your course but it’s more difficult. It’s always good to evaluate where you are as opposed to where you want to be. If you are on the wrong path, get back on the right one.  If the path you’re on meets with a dead-end, then  look around at  another route or change the destination.”

Those honest words spoken in advice when I was 17 or 18 have stuck with me. I assess where I am,  in comparison to where I want to be. Always adjusting  my course.

When one door closes another one opens. When one path is blocked you must choose or make an alternate route.

It’s one thing to set your heading in a direction, another to check to make sure your ship is running true. Mile markers along the way let you know you’re on the right path or  if you’ve gotten off track.

“Memphis? We should be seeing signs for Lexington not Memphis!”

Set your  course and  head to your horizon.  I’m having to adjust my sails into the wind.

 “The second star to the right, and straight on till morning” 

 – James M. Barrie

I hope you find your dreams, your Neverland where your inner child never ages. It’s where the fountain of youth really lies.  Our outward bodies  will waste away, but the internal spirit lives on, changed and transformed  by each life lesson, our hope renewed and invigorated.  Such a grand adventure in store for each of us!

Pursue your goals,  chase your dreams,  and never give up!

Write on my friends, write on!

Ellie

 

Satisfaction


There are times when you need a good push. This is why coaches are an invaluable resource. They push you to the goal line. They push us when our lazy nature wants to quit.

Humans by nature are lazy. we all are. It’s easier to go with the flow and let nature takes its course than fight against the wind or waves or whatever storm is happening in our lives.

Discipline is doing the things that you don’t enjoy doing in order to obtain the results that you desire. 

But that sort of laziness leaves you unfulfilled, empty and hollow.

It’s a sick feeling in your gut to realize that you’ve sold yourself short and all those people that said you had more potential were right. You haven’t given it your all,  you’ve sold yourself short.  You’re the one that is responsible for being sidelined in your own life.

It’s not the  illusions that you see in media, not the  glamorous lifestyles portrayed by Hollywood. It’s  reaching your own potential,  your own dreams, crossing those small goals off of your to-do list until you cross the big goal off with a sense of satisfaction.

What are you selling yourself short on?

What dreams have you shelved?

Are you living up to your potential?

I know for me the answers to these questions aren’t a simple encompassing yes or no, but a  range from zero to 10 in different aspects of life. For instance,  in parenting I would assess an 8 or 9, always giving my best for my kids.

In the area of personal growth, I would assess myself a 4 or 5.

It’s just my opinion, but I think moms are notoriously givers and are prone to  forget themselves especially after years of doing so. It becomes a habit. So much to the point that when someone tells you to think about your own dreams, it seems odd and even selfish.

This is an unhealthy view. What good are we to anyone else if we let ourselves fall through the cracks?

It’s time to make yourself a priority. It’s time to invest in your well-being and pursue your dreams with relentless abandon.

Come on,  you’re worth it!

Give yourself as much as you would give to others.

It’s not too late to pick up the pieces and start making progress in the right direction. It’s time to believe in yourself.  You may have to discard some pieces of old puzzles that don’t fit into the hopes for your future.  You may not have every piece to see the finished picture,  but embrace the partial vision that you have. As you get closer to the finish line, everything will come into focus.

Start believing in yourself. Start moving in the direction of your future.

Good things can happen to you!

Invest in YOU!

Write on my friends, write on!

~~~

Ellie