It must be Halloween

It seems gremlins are on the loose.  I went from over 100 e-mails a day to only 20, none of which are from WordPress.

I was really enjoying getting the notices and being able to read others thoughts and sharing with you.

But for some unfathomable reason, they are no longer available.  I’m not sure what happened, but I hope it what’s been done, becomes undone soon.

My husband blames Stinky the Elf every time we pull out Christmas lights that we thought had been put away so neatly, but are suddenly more like a jumbled rats nest.

However, I don’t think I can blame him, so, whoever the gremlin, poltergeist, etc.  may be, please come back and fix it for me.

Thank you!

No title???

I’ve often sat here thinking about what I’m writing and wondering what to call it.  How about you?

Titles are probably the hardest thing I have to do when I’m editing my books.  I have an idea of what I want and then as I write the characters, they begin to develop and change and there goes the title.

Most of the things I write flow quite easily.  I feel like I am there and part of the drama, joke, or whatever situation they are going through.

I started Ellie’s Grand Christmas Wish with the title Ellie in Wonderland.  Somehow it became less a fantasy than it was the animals side of what happens in the circus.

So, here I am, thinking about what I’m going to call this little blurb of nonsense and thinking that no title is as good as a title that doesn’t make sense.

After all, does everything need to make sense to be said?  Some of the best discussion I ever had with those trainees that I used to work with, were the ones that happened when we were supposed to be discussing policies and the handbooks but never made it there.

Have you ever thought about how much you can learn about a person just by letting them relax and be themselves?  You can’t put a title to that knowledge; or a price.

I forget now where I was going with all of this, and so I feel I should just quit talking and say good night to everyone.

I am glad I started to blog because I have met and feel like I know so many new, wonderful  and fascinating people and if I were to ever meet you in person, we may even become true friends.

Thank you for this journey I am on and for making it a relaxing and fun time.

A New Beginning

My computer has been doing very well lately.  Maybe I haven’t either.

My mother, who is 90, and known by many of you, is getting ready to go through heart surgery.  My mind is more on her than anyone else.

I’ve been submersing myself in my writing, when she wasn’t here, and coming to terms with the possible inevitable.

I just finished my Christmas story,  ‘Ellie’s Grand Christmas Wish’, so I’ve done something worth doing.

I hope you have all had a great Thanksgiving.  For me, I ate entirely too much, and even though we went to our daughter’s for dinner, we came home with goodie bags filled with turkey and ham, and have been enjoying those.  (I have actually gained a new liking for croquettes and soup.)

So, now, I look forward to Christmas.  My shopping is done.  My party is in three week.  This year, all but one child will be home.  Can you imagine 7 kids, their spouses, children, and a new great children all in one house?  And that doesn’t count friends, family and adoptees.

After all of that…I’ll settle in and help Mama get over her next ordeal of her surgery.  Keep us in your thoughts.

And So I Digress

I just did what I swore I would never do; discuss politics, beliefs, or lack of, in mixed company.  I hope that as fellow readers you realize I sometimes need to vent and don’t hold it against me.

So…I am sitting here with a glass of wine.  Fu-Ki Plum sake to be exact.  It is sweet.  (Type 2 here I come)  It is also very potent.  At least that’s what my lack of inhibitions is telling me.  I am trying to finish a book I’ve been working on for several months.  The love scenes just aren’t meshing for me.

My husband lives in his man cave which happens to have now taken over my entire basement which started out as a one-bedroom apartment.  (He has, however, been kind enough to leave me a path that leads to the laundry room.  Isn’t he nice?)  I walked down the steps daring the gremlins to come out from under the stairs to grab my feet, anything that is hidden beneath the piles of papers and clothes that covers the sofa I so lovingly upholstered, to rumple the papers and startle me out of about 5 years, and carefully stepping so I didn’t disrupt any of his disorganized organized filing system that looks like it is just waiting for trash day.  I handed him a glass of my newly found second love.

He gulped it down in one swallow, nodded and said, “Not bad.”  He handed me the glass and went back to his game.

I leaned over, gently nibbled his ear, and whispered, “Will you be coming up soon?” (I thought it would be a nice idea to sit on the couch, snuggle under an afghan and watch a movie. I could maybe play out that love scene I’m having trouble with.)

“Whatcha got in mind?”

I gave him my sexiest smile.

“Let me finish my game first.”

He’s been playing this game for over a year and still isn’t half way through it.  His cell phone sits next to him and blinks with an unanswered call from our son.  He has messages to answer from his brother.

I walked upstairs and am now sitting here sipping my wine, and sharing with you.

Not to worry.  Tonight, when he is almost to sleep, I plan on snuggling up to him, while wearing my best nightie.  I’m going to put my arm around his waist and whisper.  “Do you know how much I love you?”

He’ll mumble something then say, “Yep!”

I’ll roll over, stick my ice cold feet on the back of his thighs and go to sleep thanks to my new friend, ‘Fuki-Plum sake’  But first I’ll try to write that love scene in my newest book in ‘The Sisters’ series.  I love romance.  🙂

The joys of decades of marriage!!!

The Election is Over!!!

I recently spoke to my daughter.  She is so distraught over the outcome of the election she is making herself sick.  She and her siblings all think differently and I brought them up to be strong enough to not just have their beliefs and opinions but to be strong enough to stand up for their convictions.

This election has taken its toll on those I love.  I am seeing them not talking to each other over their differences of choice.  I hear it on television and in the news.

There are ways of getting our opinions out without ripping our lives and relationships in shreds.

I hear LGBT are fleeing because of Mr. Trump’s blanket statements about them.  People are moving from their homes and heading to Canada and Mr. Trump says good riddance.  They are moving west, not to find new homes as did the pioneers, but to find homes far enough away that they aren’t afraid to be who they are.  They are still Americans.

I see race riots happening because of Mr. Trump’s blanket statements.  People fear a wall being built because of Mr. Trump, who by the way if he went back in his own history, would realize that the U.S. really belongs to the American Indian, who found themselves herded into small areas, forced to live a life of open emprisonment, and all  because of the prejudice of the immigrants who came into their country.

Build a wall!  Make gay marriage illegal!  Women are pigs!  Russia’s Vladimir Putin congratulates him on his win!

Fifty per cent of the people are eager for his changes.  The other fifty percent are fearful.  They fear that he will be able to implement his prejudicial follies.  They fear his hedonistic, prejudiced and mysoginistic attitude.  They fear his flip attitude will not only create a new Civil War within our country, but break down our strength as a number and make us even more open to terrorism and invasion, with the ultimate outcome of nuclear attacks.

I totally disagree with Mrs. Clinton’s views on gun control.  That is our right as Americans; to own guns and use them in self defense of our homes, lives, and countries.  She can be very idealistic which tends to make her look as if she is not strong enough to run a country. I am not stating an opinion, I am stating observations.  I am stating what is happening in my own family.

If we are truly as strong as people believe, we need to come together as families and keep the strength alive.

One person, or even a handful of persons can’t take away our will.  Is it worth fighting for?  Or is it just an outmoded idea and notion that should die along with our freedom and right to live in peace and harmony.

Quit crying.  Quit fighting amongst yourselves.  Starting fighting for what you believe in.  Stay focused.  If it’s a fight they want, fight them, but do it in a way that preserves the harmony and doesn’t create more anger and separation.  Stand shoulder to shoulder

The election may be over, but that doesn’t mean our fight should be.  If our forefathers had given up where would we be?  Mr. Trump would have been given a crown and thrown instead of a bedroom in the White House.

Change.org

 

 

For All You Do

Mama has been sick all week with the stomach flu.  She is staying with my husband and I.

I can’t tell you how many times she has expressed her appreciation of all we are doing or have done for her.  She is always upset because we are bringing her drinks, or dry toast, yogurt or pedialyte, or making trips to town for things we don’t have but her doctor has recommended.  She keeps saying she doesn’t know what she would do without us, or if she could ever pay us back for all we do.

I’ll read this to Mama tomorrow, now that she is feeling a little better.  This is something I need her to know.

I remember when we were sick and you would get up in the middle of the night to bathe us, change our beds, give us medicine, and hold us till we could go back to sleep.

I remember you getting up the next morning and going to work, taking care of the rest of us and dad, and never complaining.

What we do for you now Mama isn’t out of a sense of obligation.  Neither is it a chore or a job.

Everything we do is a thank you for all you did for us and never a complaint, even though sometimes you were feeling as badly as we were.

Everything we do is a way of giving back for all you did.  It’s the little things that we do, not because we have to, but we want to.

This is all out of love and admiration.  You are never a burden or a chore.  You are just loved.

 

Newest releases:

Link to the preview of:  When the River Rises
https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1203205

 

The link to:  Just Fourteen

https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1203208

I’ve been busy with my writing, and taking care of Mama.  My life is full.

Mama is sick this week and I wish I could take her place.  There is nothing worse than watching someone you love when they are sick.

She is a stubborn woman and when my sister or I mention going to the doctor we get an adamant, “No!”, but if she isn’t better soon, she’ll be there or the emergency room.

I’ve got a lot to do, and needed to share.  I’ve been keeping an eye on all you, my friends, have written, and wanted to let you I am still here.

WAS I MISSED???   🙂

 

I Was Nine Once

I walked in on a conversation between my 90 year old mother and 9 year old granddaughter.

“Things have changed so much.”

Samantha picked up her head and looked at Mom instead of her laptop.   “What Grammy?”

“When I was nine, we didn’t have things like that.  We had to entertain ourselves.”

“Why didn’t you watch TV?”

“We didn’t have TV.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Mom chuckled softly.  “We didn’t have electricity.  When I was nine…”

Sam put her laptop on the table and was curiously staring at Mom.  “No electricity?  Didn’t your Daddy pay the bill?”

Mom laughed.  “We didn’t have a bill to pay.  We didn’t have any electricity in our house.  We didn’t have it in our house until we were almost 14.”

“How did you get water if you didn’t have electricity to run the pump to get the water?”

Mom put down her coffee.  “We would walk to a spring almost a mile away, carrying pails, so we could get water.  Then my  mom would put it in a big pot to get hot and we’d pour it into one big tub.  The youngest would get their bath first, then on up by age, and we all used the same water.”

Sam’s curiosity was really eating at her.  “How did you go to the bathroom if you didn’t have water.”

“We had an outhouse in the back yard.  That’s an outdoor bathroom.  We’d bundle up, put on our shoes and hats, if it was cold, and run down through the yard.  It didn’t matter how cold, hot, rainy, or snowy, we had to go there.”

“Yuk!”

Mom laughed.  “It’s yuk to me now too, but it wasn’t then.  It’s how almost everyone I knew lived.  It was normal.  I remember running outside if we heard a plane go over, just to see if it had a message on a banner trailing behind it, it was like going to a circus.  Life has changed so much.”

“What did you eat Grammy?”

“I was in a three room school.  It had all the kids from town there.  At lunch time we would run home to get our lunch.”  She sadly looked out the window, then glanced over to me.  I was frying hamburgers for their lunch.  “We would sit down to bread with lard and sugar, or if it was berry time, Mom would crushed the berries with a little sugar and pour them over the bread.”  She smile.  “That was my favorite.”

“I like strawberries on cake.  Nina taught me how to bake a cake, but Mommy does hers from cake boxes.”

“No cakes.  We couldn’t afford the sugar, milk and eggs for such luxuries as a cake.  If I stayed home from school, and I hated school, so I played hooky quite often, I would bake ten loaves of bread before my mom got home from the farm.”  She started to get up.  “I remember how excited we were when Dad would bring home government cheese and powdered milk and powdered eggs.  Then my mom baked a cake.  That was a once a month treat.  Or, sometimes, Did would be lucky to get someone on his train who would give him their food basket to take home because they were stopping at a place that made food.”  Her head shook as she talked.  “They were rich to us.  They could ride on a train, and buy food.”

“Were you big then Grammy?”

She wobbled slightly as she grabbed for her cane.  Her rheumy eyes trying to focus on where it was, and her arthritic joints protesting, she slowly raised from her chair and moved from the table.  “I was nine.  It was 1935.”

She walked back to her bedroom and sat down.  “Life really has changed since then.”

 

 

Busy

I’ve been busy lately.

I spent 12 hours yesterday learning a new program.  I cut and paste.  I created links.  I downloaded.  I created programs.  I even tried out ChimpMail, which was fun.  (I love the name)

I made a mess.

I cut the wrong thing and pasted it where it should never have been.  Then I posted it.

I created links that were supposed to take me to a special site.  I tried the link and it took me to my Word program and asked for my password.

I downloaded almost a full gig of info to find out I was downloading the wrong program and ended up deleting it.

ChimpMail was supposed to be so simple even a monkey could use it.  Just call me Cheetah.  (As in Tarzan??)

I created a program that was so out of sync, even a computer expert wouldn’t have been able to fix it.  Or my husband!!!!

So…I’m back to square one.  At least I got one link right, but the attachment isn’t there.

Deep sigh!   ***!!??**&@#!

https://books2read.com/author/sherry-raby/subscribe/1/61821/