A Quick Cut and Paste

 I keep telling myself I'm going to start posting on this blog again. And I start the posts. I just don't finish them. So, I'm stealing this one from my writing blog!

This week nearly get the better of me, between taking care of some Farmers Market loose ends and attending a Celebration of Life for a friend who died a couple of weeks ago. But I made it through, and I'm ready to hit this next week with gusto!

My book, Smoke and Sparks, is available for free this month in the Romance to Read give-away. Find it, along with many other books, by clicking here. 

    [As we kissed], I pictured the starlets of the old black and white films, a dainty foot encased in a pointed stiletto rising as her lover kissed her. It made sense to me as the itch reached my toes and they curled in my Nikes. I fought the mad need to shuffle my feet, to drag them across the ground, seeking relief, and I broke away, drawing in air even as a chuckle escaped, my inner fancies impossible to explain but so amusing to me that I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. 

   Daryl looked up at me, his eyes glassy and dazed until he gave a small shake of his head, clearing the fog away, I suppose. “What’s so funny?” he asked, waiting to decide if he should be insulted or not.
   “Nothing. I was imagining myself as Hedy Lamarr.”

Smoke and Sparks (Campfire Stories Book 2) Available on Amazon KU

Couch-surfing is fine for the short term, but what Vaughn really needs is a roommate.

Vaughn’s future was mapped out: Attend college in St. Louis. Become a Physical Therapist. Come out to his ultra-religious family-- after he’s financially stable and probably 40-years-old. But that was before he got caught with the pool-boy. Now he has to make new plans, quickly.

A small-town mechanic from Indiana, Daryl has never met anyone like Vaughn. He’s instantly fascinated by the tall college student in the skinny jeans and open-backed shirt. Vaughn is funny, intelligent—and wears silk underwear. Daryl is instantly smitten.

A temporary job offer moves Daryl to the city and solves Vaughn’s roommate problem. But while their former long-distance friendship has the potential to turn into something more, Vaughn fears he’ll end up heartbroken when Daryl moves back to Indiana. The spark between them glows brighter, but will it be smothered before it has a chance to truly ignite? 

 Sign up for my newsletter here for book updates, recs, and the occasional cookie recipe!

*Rainbow Snippets is a (Facebook) group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers who gather once a week to share snippets from a work of fiction–-a WIP or a finished work or even a book recommendation. If you're interested in following a diverse group of authors, check it out here.

2021 In Pictures

One thing that has come out of the last two years is discovering the charms of our local Nature Center. I'd taken the kids out there for special events a few times when they were younger, but I'd never spent time there as a way to center my mental health. In many ways, these few acres have helped me keep my sanity through this insane time. 

 

We added Silver to the Jones clowder. She was gifted to us by the local Momma Cat. 

Little Black is another of her kittens from a previous litter that decided to hang around. 

 There was moon light.

And the squirrel we rescued and released. Peanut's injuries were worse than we at first thought, and he didn't make it through the summer, but we were able to give him some extra months. 

And my trips to the Nature Center continued throughout the Fall. 

And we ended the year with a visit from my daughter, who wasn't able to come home last year because of the pandemic. Having her here was the best present. 

Looking Back, Looking Forward-- Oh Hell, Let's Just Get On With It!

It's that time of year again. We list our "best of"s, or reflect on our accomplishments, or make goals for the coming year. 

But what can we say about 2020? Maybe "I survived!" is enough. 

It's a year that will probably be looked at by the next generations as something the old folks talk about ad nauseum. The Spanish Flu was followed by The Roaring 20s. Will we get our own version? Because I think we deserve it!

I'm not going to rehash any of it-- hell, we've all lived through it, even if groups of us were looking at it through different colored lenses. There are going to be lasting effects on our psyches, certainly. 

I've become more introverted. 

I'm not the eternal optimist I used to be. 

I fear I'll have a hard time breathing any time I get caught in a crowd. 

Some of my relationships have been irreparably damaged.

And yet there has been some positives. I've grown closer with my husband and son. I've made use of our local nature center, which is good for both my cardio health and my mental health. I've built my baking business. And I've made some strides in my writing. 

It's not over, yet. I'm afraid 2021 is still going to be rough. But I'm hopeful. 

Knock on wood. 

Six Month Check-In (Or is it the Seventh...or Eighth? Hell, I Don't Even Know Anymore)

This week The New York Times published an article about Pandemic Fatigue. It was interesting, and definitely something I’ve witnessed in the population around me. The article discusses the replacing of the fear that many people felt in the Spring with the fatigue that results from living with continual upheaval. I live in a corner of the country where much of the population has decided they’re done with it, and they are ignoring the recommendations. No masks or social distancing for them!

What I think we’ll see in the coming years will be various forms of PTSD. Some will continue to be introverts that are never comfortable in crowds or groups. People that were border-line hypochondriacs will continue to worry about every cough, every fever.

And then there will be the hoarders.

My grandparents were adults during the Great Depression with a passel of kids to feed and clothe, and as a result, my grandmother became a bit of a hoarder. She stuffed the toys she crocheted with old hose and bread bags. She saved every butter dish and every scrap of material. 

 

I see that in myself, only with food. I keep buying things that we normally don’t use– fruit cups and juice drinks, canned meat, dry milk– all because I fear fresh fruit and juice, meat and milk, will become scarce. And my freezer is full. It’s enough food to feed the three of us for two months or more, and yet I still keep buying. I’m running out of room.

I know it’s because I work in a grocery store and I see each week what we aren’t getting and the rumors of what we might not get in the next few months. But there comes a point when I need to stop. And still, I buy.

I want to believe, a year from now, this will be behind us and we can get back to normal. But I have to wonder how many of us won’t be able to.

 

Around the House #4

Not all of my favorite things are in my house. Some of them are outside. 

When we bought our house 21 years ago, there were no trees in the yard. Apparently, the previous owners didn't like to rake? Or didn't like shade? Who knows. So I went a bit crazy and planted a half-dozen, thinking that some of them I'd bought were "smaller" trees. 

I was wrong.

They've turned into big trees, all. But my favorite is this Mimosa that I actually brought from our old house. It was nothing more than a twig when I dug it up and now it reaches over our two-story. It's in full bloom right now and it smells like a perfume factory--almost overbearingly so. But it attracts hummingbirds and there are violets growing in the cleft where the trunk divides. Which is why it's one of my favorite things!

Cats on a Shelf

We have a fence around our back yard, partly because of the neighbors, and partly because we have a pool. But we weren't thinking when we put it up-- my garden is on the other side. Which meant I had to walk all of the way around to get to the garden. Yup, poor planning on our part. Anyway, my husband put in a gate last summer and built a little shelf on it. I didn't even notice, which shows how observent I am. But the cats did. We have a bit of a cat problem in our neighborhood-- namely a Momma Cat that is very prolific. (I really should dig up some money and take her for a little trip) 

Needless to say, this a daily occurance. The particular cats just change from time to time. 

While The World Burns...

I went for a walk yesterday because I realized I hadn't taken so much as a step ouside our yard in a week--haven't even wanted to. If I didn't occasionally need to go to the store or the bank, I could happily never leave the property. I hope this fades, especially when  the time comes for me to go back to work. Except, there's this little voice that keeps whispering "if you go back to work". Which, unless some rich relative I don't know about dies and leaves me money, isn't possible. This leave-of-absence really is meant to be a temporary thing. Last week I went into the grocery store where I've worked for 22 years and was surprised by how much I missed it. And for about ten minutes I considered going back part time. But... I have no filter. The boss would have to fire me within the first week. So, I guess I'll stay home a tad longer and watch my roses bloom. 

Life in a Bubble

This feels pretty spot-on. I started my "leave of absence" full of energy. For the first three weeks, I caught up on some cleaning that really needed doing. And there was plenty of writing and editing work to keep me occupied. Plus, there was the Working Stiffs release that I was devoting time to.

But...

It got cold again. And Facebook is full of scared, confused people. But it's my lifeline to people I care about, so I can't not get on it. And the world started to feel heavy. And I've found out I really need my days to be scheduled. I'm almost amazed that a part of me misses work. I miss my friends. I halfway entertained going back--at least a few hours a day. But I know if I do I'll end up right back where I was at the end of March. Chest pains and anxiety. Physically, I'm so much better now. Mentally, I'm struggling. And I know this will pass. 

IT WILL GET BETTER.

Or so I keep telling myself.                             

Afternoon Excitement!

Before and after pictures. I was pulling out of my drive, heading out to Mom's to take her some stuff, and I saw smoke billowing on the next block over. At first I thought it was the store where I work, but it was a garage on the block between us. 

I had to keep driving or get parked in (by people that were definitely not social distancing!), so I kept going. The fire trucks were just leaving when I got back to town. It looks like the house is okay, maybe a little roof-singe, but since they weren't attached, they were lucky. Their new "plastic" fence didn't fare so well, though. Which just shows how hot it was. The family (and their two dogs) are all okay, although the dad had to go to the hospital for a burn on his ankle.

I guess that broke up the tedium for a few people.

Around the House 2

One of my favorite things-- my Unicorn Hex sign. I should have tried to take a picture that actually shows how large it is. (1 yard wide). 

My first job, the kind where taxes were actually deducted, was waitressing at a local restaurant. It started out as a Dutch Pantry, but by the time I worked there, it was just The Pantry. I worked there during my Junior and Senior years. And then I worked summers and holidays through college. 

When the owner remodeled, he took down all of the hex signs and I grabbed onto this one. I collected Unicorns back then and this was the ultimate prize. It's hung on a wall in every house I've lived in ever since.

(I wish I had a better picture, but back in the stone age, before digital, you never knew what you were going to get until it was too late!)

I Can Finally Call Myself an Author!

Started in 1981 as something to do during study hall, Headphones and the occupants of The House became companions that lived in my head, their stories growing and evolving over the years. In 2013 I decided to give them new life and prove to myself that I could finish something. The result was an online serial that ran from January 1, 2015, to January 1, 2016. To call it a vanity project is probably generous. But by the end of the year, I was getting 100 hits a day from readers around the world. For someone who grew up without the internet and social media, it was exciting. Early last year I decided to rewrite it into a publishable book. The problem was, it was too long for one book.  My solution? Make it into a trilogy! So I introduce, nearly 40 years in the making, Headphones!

Book one: 

In from the Cold introduces Headphones and a group of friends who are going about their lives while not truly living them.  

Book two:

Sunshine Smile is heat and healing–new love blossoms, a new enemy schemes.   

  

Book three:

Fall Out will break your heart, but only for a moment. 

Shared from my Author Blog. 

Around the House

I Should Be Laughing adopted the idea of posting things from our environment that make us happy from Mistress Maddie and I've been seeing a version of it going around FaceBook, and I think it's an excellent idea! 

I love The Mighty Boosh. It's a silly British program on the outside, but it became so much more to me. I suppose I was just at a point in my life where I needed to make some changes and it made me look at things differently. And even better, I connected with people in other countries who shared my love. Artistic people, both of the drawing kind and the writing kind. A couple of years ago I bought some cards from those artists through Redbubble and found a beat-up shadow box at a garage sale-- and promptly shoved them into the "to do" pile. Now that I'm home (doing the self-isolating thing) I'm pulling out those old projects. A nice day and a can of white spray paint was all I needed. And yes, it makes me very happy.

The Five Stages of Grief--or Is That Guilt?

Grief. Anxiety. These are what I’ve been dealing with the last few weeks. And now I can add guilt. And it completely caught me by surprise.

            I’m a grocery worker. It’s a business that I enjoy for the most part. I like sales and I like the challenge of deciding what to sell, how to market it, and how to display it. But the last few years have been difficult for me because I’m blue in a red area. It didn’t use to be a problem. And really, this post isn’t about politics but I’m just going to say that I’m not as much of a people-person as I used to be. I do as much of the “behind-the-scenes” work as I can at the store, leaving the socializing to the other floor help.

            On my downtime, I like to cruise social media. I’m old enough that I didn’t grow up with the ability to easily reach out and connect with people from other countries. It’s an amazing thing and I learn so much. And several months ago, the chatter was about the virus hitting China. Common sense said it would spread and I planned ahead. I stocked up on groceries and refilled my prescription medicines at the end of February. I stowed away a little extra cash. My husband and I prepared, even when the people around us ignored it. And, as we all know, when it hit, it hit. Things at my little store went crazy. Our crew is small and we were overburdened, not taking breaks and cutting our lunches short. But it was our duty to take care of our community, and we did it.

But I’m not going to say I was happy to be there, because I was not. From the very beginning, a large percent of our customers treated it like it was a party, nothing but a big joke with toilet paper as the punch line. But the Governor had shut schools and people were scrambling. And then he shut “non-essentials” so the scramble continued. This wasn’t like when a snowstorm is predicted with everyone grabbing extra milk and bread. Our shelves were as empty as I’ve ever seen them and the supply chain had been broken. We had to begin to limit quantities. And still, they acted like it was a joke or an inconvenience.

            I became angry and tense and sick to my stomach. I turned my back when I had to walk past a customer, holding my breath as if that would help. I had a bottle of sanitizer that I carried with me and I went around several times a day with soapy bleach water and washed handles and flat surfaces. I’m not germophobic—I routinely handle raw meat with no problem. But it began to feel like I had this ticking time bomb in my body. I didn’t know when it would go off or how powerful the explosion would be. It might be nothing more than a firecracker but there were equal chances that it would be a stack of dynamite. Every breath I took felt like I was inhaling poison.

And still there were customers who refused to take it seriously. Customers that came in every day and walked around, pushing a cart down all of the aisles, talking with everyone they knew, only to buy 3 or 4 items—because they were bored. My chest grew tighter and tighter until I started having chest pains. I was so tense my muscles hurt and spasmed. I couldn’t sleep. I was nauseous and sometimes on the verge of tears. In short--I was a hot mess!
   

It wasn’t just myself and my husband that I worried about. I began to really feel the chasm that existed between me and my parents. Although they live far enough away that I don’t spend a lot of time at their house, I’ve always been available when they needed me. And suddenly, it wasn’t safe. They are in their ‘80s and Mom has COPD. I couldn’t risk it. And that knowledge made my chest tighter.

My husband was worried about me and we discussed it for two days before deciding we would go into quarantine. I was nervous about asking, but my boss was very nice about it and my husband was able to take a leave-of-absence, and so on April 1, we withdrew. Retreat is more like it. I felt like there was a battle happening and I was losing. A man in the store said to me one day, “Thank you for your service.” How was I supposed to respond to that? My brother, he’s a soldier. He served overseas. “This isn’t the same,” my brain yelled as I awkwardly thanked the man.

So now I’m home. And I found out that a couple more from the store have taken leave for health reasons. But still, there’s this guilt--that I’ve left my coworkers to deal with what’s going on--and it’s a heavy burden. A little voice keeps whispering “selfish” except, why should I feel like that? I do no one any good if I get sick from stress any more than if I get sick from the virus. If I stay healthy, then I can go back later and take over and let them rest.

I worry about my friends and family that work in medical fields. They can’t bow-out like I did. I’m in this bubble now, one I’m sure many of you feel. I’ve become an introvert and I’m here with my husband and son, so it’s not as hard on me as I’m sure it is on others. I want to do something for those who are still in the “trenches”, realizing probably the smartest thing I can do is stay out of their way.

All I can say is “I’m sorry. I wish I could have been stronger,” as I work through my grief and guilt.

 

Happy Solstice!

I mean, any excuse to balance an egg. Right?

Garage Sale Finds

We're thinking about moving in a few years so I've been trying to get rid of things here and there. Not with much success, I might add. And then what did I do this morning? Hit garage sales! I haven't done that for awhile, but the weather's nice today and it was "Town-Wide Garage Sale" day, so I gave up an hour of my time to do my civic duty. And I found several bargains but I didn't realize until I got home that I must have been on a red kick. The waffle-iron looking thing bakes little cakes and I've thought for awhile that I need a carafe so I don't have to waste valuable minutes walking to the kitchen for a coffee refill, and the box (on its side--that's the lid) was just cool. And I got it all for just a couple of dollars. 

Because I needed it!

Summer 2017

 I tend to take lots of pictures and download them onto my computer, where they are never seen again. So I'm thinking I might start doing a monthly "round up" of some of my favorites. Here are a few from my summer. The "people" pictures I save for Facebook, tagging those involved. So what I have left is apparently "nature" pictures, for the most part. And some art I bought. And one of the numerous tree frogs that began life in the swimming pool we didn't use this summer. 

History in Memes and Tweets

A friend sent me this after we were talking about our "misspent youth". What can I say?  It was the '80s and I had a good time!