A funny thing happened on the way to…

Our volatile  weekend began on Friday afternoon but I’ll fast-forward. By nine o’clock that evening we were on our way to our weekend escape…

Driving through old forests on a marginally maintained mountain logging road at night is sort of scary. There’s plenty of horror movies about driving on dark and heavily forested roads, in the middle of nowhere, that include deranged humans with axes and chainsaws. With new GPS technology, people have taken these seasonal roads during the wrong season – and died. Which obviously didn’t happen to us as I am here to tell the tale, and we’ve driven this one road, in season, for five years. Which doesn’t mean it isn’t scary at night as it does include potential encounters with black bears, deer, free range cattle and maybe an alien.

But we were brought down by a chuck hole. Sporty cars don’t belong on seasonal logging roads that are accessible for diesel trucks with monster tires.

Ka-Boom!

Only one tire was destroyed but replacing it with an under-deflated spare-tire donut, while in a National Park in the Pacific Northwest, can be a really long 15 minute span of time. Even if you were lucky enough to have a decent flashlight, which we did.

It’s a 30 mile road with no cell service and our ancestors didn’t have it so good in their covered wagons. There was really no danger from foraging animals as we set our food-stuffed containers on the pavement to get to the spare tire. But logic takes a hike when you’re stranded in the wilderness at night.

We saw one other vehicle on that road and they paused, as Ed tightened the last lug-nut, to make sure we were OKAY. Then we slowly limped our way to our camp trailer and did little more than unpack our supplies and set up our morning coffee pot before we snuggled into a safe and secure sleep.

The next morning, Ed did his best checking over our sporty car so the tires would make another 40 miles, to the tire place, for repairs. He arrived unscathed but the damage was worse. Three new tires, and a diagnosis for an alignment repair soon. I spent hours in a meditative float in my kayak, in the middle of a lake.

I  know I’ve been driving the wrong car these past five years. It’s a Tiberon – which translates to Shark. It gets great gas mileage and performs well on every level for a vehicle that will get me from Point A to Point B. It was awesome to have a really cool-looking car. But it is the car I chose while settling my parents estate. It is human to make unusual life choices during times of emotional turbulence.

I’ve never been a sport car enthusiast, though I am an admirer. My Shark was a great choice when I realized my parents were gone and my girls were grown. Getting a little wild and crazy is a good thing during turbulent times. And I’m always an advocate for having a Good Time. Especially when you are settling your parents estate and you are way too young to be an orphan and a mentor for the next generation.

But I’m also an advocate for living a long time, healthy and happy. This means my sport car days are ending. I’ve no clue what my future transportation needs may be, or what will be a good choice for the next five years. My girls and my friends all have opinions regarding what my next vehicle should be.  This car has really been a wrong choice for me since the day I brought it home from the dealer. And that makes it a right choice because I don’t fit into a “type” anywhere.

I’m not normal. In my opinion, “normal” does not exist and is a goal I will never achieve. I wanted to be normal, according to others judgments, occasionally. But I could never promote normalcy on my daughters.  And I’m proud of that failure.

The Shark has been my vehicle for seven years now, and that’s the shortest time I’ve ever invested in a vehicle. So it is time to consider the new adventures life offers, and what vehicles may be a good choice. For a few years.

The Journey is the Story

My friend Elizabeth Boyle was in town on Monday and I got to the Powell’s event late enough that she was already speaking. I was quiet and slipped into a seat but she saw me, and exclaimed into the microphone, “Aunt Mary’s here!” then continued with her story of the disaster preceding the submission of her first book, and the hero that stepped forth to make a dream come true for his wife. I’ve heard this story but loved the reminder and revisit to an old favorite.

Later she explained to the audience that we met at a reader’s luncheon in 2003 and my 25 yr-old niece was with me, and kept calling me “Aunt Mary” even while I kept reminding her that I’m Terri Patrick in the world of romance books and authors. Well, “Lizbo” and I have had numerous encounters over these years and she is still my go-to author for rereads, and my must read, even though she’s a historical author and I’m a “new age” girl.

The above is her 20th novel and she never planned her interconnected books to become a series, but the characters she would encounter always were more interesting than she intended and needed their own stories. Also, the date of that first novel disaster and dramatic conclusion was April 1st. And here she was, on April 1st, celebrating the release of her 20th novel.

A few times, over the past ten years, Elizabeth would ask me, “When will I be attending the book signing for your novel?” And I’d just shrug because she was the catalyst for one of my sideline interests that is now called, Author Marketing 101. com. Elizabeth was one of the first authors who impressed me as being a delightful person with an engaging story beyond her books, that made me so fascinated with authors that I decided I was going to find a way to remain in this Romancelandia industry even if I never got a novel of my own published. Of course I also discovered that few authors, as individuals, are as interesting as Elizabeth Boyle.

I’m a really good business woman and the publishing industry is the most convoluted business I’ve ever encountered. The turbulence created by technology these past five years has been huge. And Ed has always been flying at Mach-2-with-his-hair-on-fire at the cutting edge of technology so I understand more about that innovation than many. And, as a result, I can shut it all off really well. When my sister commented on a recent news event I admitted I had no clue what she was talking about, but I did know that Amazon had bought Goodreads.

When Elizabeth had signed her books of the Powell’s stock of her 20th novel, and many of her her backlist books, I gave her, and her son, a ride in my car to the MaxTrain station a few blocks away.

None of us were sure where we were going.

My low slung sport car was a surprise as they are both used to minivans and that ass-on-the-pavement sensation can be a challenge if you have lower back issues. But as I stated, to the teenage Mr. Boyle who had to pretzel himself into the back seat, when you’re with “Aunt Mary” even a few blocks needs to be an adventure.

Shifts in Time

This picture is from The Princess Bride, a must see movie for all ages. But this gentle question really does represent the whole Daylight Saving Time shift. Even not being on a commute-to-work-place schedule, I am affected by the perception of the time change.

I ate breakfast an hour later, which threw off when to eat lunch, and I don’t eat dinner prior to my 6:30 Dancercise class, which was an hour earlier, according to the daylight. The class I attend looks nothing like the link. We’re a dozen women, all over 50, wearing boring active wear and doing our stretches, dance steps, and kicks in a farmers “grange” hall that hasn’t been upgraded since before we were born. But it’s fun. Rock-n-roll for an hour with my girlfriends, three times a week.

The status of my energy is – roller coaster. Jim at jbuss Astrology has been tracking the turbulence in the stars as representing positive changes for humanity and mother earth. We don’t like changes, yet we are all connected, as above so below. We can imagine these stellar aspects affect our personal perceptions. That “how do you feel?” question is a valid one to ask.

I attended a fantastic workshop on Saturday, presented by Donald Maass, who is an icon in the world of books and storytelling, and a really nice man. (He’s even willing to teach us How to Sashay.) From his insights, and the writing exercises he directed us to do, I felt a personal shift in perception regarding my intent to be a writer when I could have pursued a career as a storyteller. The difference is important and both skills apply for a novelist. In each scene we need to ask the primary character, “How do you feel?”

I attended a workshop, years ago, where a young woman enthusiastically presented what she had learned about writing from studying “the dead guys.” I was inspired even though others griped that they had studied “the dead guys” decades earlier and certainly didn’t need to copy classic samples as a writing exercise. But I didn’t study literature in school as I was on the business track. So, even though Delilah Marvelle was still an aspiring novelist when I attended her workshop on “the dead guys” it did create a shift in my perceptions on the writing – and reading – process. Writers are a rare breed and we need to remember that readers have lives we can’t fathom, but we can enhance.

The moral of that story is Delilah Marvelle is now an international brand of stories that readers adore. The catty old bitches whining about writing the exercises Delilah encouraged them to do – nothing has changed in their lives. There’s nothing wrong with that. Life is for living and we are not all the latest and greatest entertainment production company. Delilah is.

Today I read a Writer Unboxed post on the value of being a copycat as a writing exercise, like was recommended years ago, and I think I’m going to add this to my routine. But I’m not going to pick a favorite author or one that is specifically dead. There’s about 100 excerpts included in “Fire in Fiction” because they are examples of good writing. And that’s my thing.

What’s yours?

So, how do you feel?

The direction of the wind

There’s nothing worse than being excited about a new career, new routines, and that feeling of fresh beginnings – being mirrored in the sounds and smells of an early Spring – and then suddenly be hit with a flu.

Fortunately, my week with the flu began on Monday and I didn’t have meetings scheduled until Saturday. But alas, we missed our grandson’s science fair on Thursday. I may have had the energy to attend, but not to drive. By then Ed was just starting his journey through fever, coughs and congestion.

The week before the flu, my attention was focused on events transpiring around my brother-in-law and his heart issues. This was scary times for his family yet he is now recovering with good prospects. The turning point was when his daughters brought music to his hospital room. One was devoted to playing the fiddle, but the other watched her dad’s heart monitor even out until it was keeping the beat.  The doctors credit the meds, but his daughters hold more faith in the music.

As heart, health, and music, was the focus of my attention the week before the flu, it’s still been humming in my head this whole week as well. I wasn’t aware of it when I got in the car to go to my Saturday meeting. But now I can recall how a short drive with songs on the radio picked me out of the sludge from the constant drone of the TV – which is Ed’s venue of distraction.

The meeting was in a noisy restaurant-bar and I was hyper until I got something to eat. When I notice myself calming down I always wonder how wild I was…  Then a lively social venue began with lots of friends and free flowing conversation. I felt more alive than I had all week but after a few hours I remembered I was still wimpy and needed to stop at the store on the way home for juice, eggs, and cough syrup.

That short drive alone with the songs on the radio, grounded me, I could feel me heart keeping the beat. I know my happiness resonates to certain music but knowing and doing sometimes get the flu.

While I was more functional on Sunday, I was also still in LaLaLand and wondered if I could find a visual that spoke to my mood. And that’s the picture above, from last summer. I can feel a symphony in those clouds.

I love LaLaLand. And Spring. I also love being proactive, efficient and balanced. Maybe I’ll figure out how to be all of the above at the same time.

Or, maybe I’m just supposed to recognize the differences and go with the flow.

My Holiday Decor

The first holiday decoration that appears in my home after Halloween is the Lenox Cardinal Candle Lamp. It remains in the center of my dining room table until February.

The Cardinal Candle Lamp – to honor my mom

Mom’s birthday was February 1st, 1928 and for most of my life her birthday celebrations extended for a week or so from the end of January to the beginning of February. Mom loved celebrating Ground Hog Day.

By Valentines Day we were fully into the new year and totally entrenched in the winter season so every holiday was a good thing to celebrate. We lived in the snow belt off the Great Lakes and our wind chill factors were in the double negatives while the snow plowed mound mountains were double digits of feet.  The weather was brutal enough that people died clearing snow and ice so they could get mail.

There are lots of brutal winter environments and they are endured because when spring and summer arrive, it’s awesome. That didn’t apply to my childhood in Cleveland, Ohio. The heat and humidity of summer sapped the energy and only a good thunderstorm helped. I also remember vibrant summer sunsets because of the atmospheric pollution. The rainbow of colors was from the light of a setting sun filtered through layers of airborne chemicals.

Sunsets from my childhood memories has never been duplicated in all my travels. I’ve always loved big rivers though the first river I loved was so toxic that when it caught fire it burned for three days.

But I always feel warm and fuzzy with my memories of childhood. I do love visiting my family in Ohio though I’ve been really glad to leave and return to my home. For 15 years is was in New Jersey. Now it’s in Oregon.

There were cardinals in Ohio.

But now it’s time to put the cardinal Lenox lamp away for this year.

Because this year, I signed a contract with a publisher.

Hot Damn, and Hallelujah! Happy Birthday, Mom. Your baby girl is going to be a published novelist.

Make it a Festive Shift to 2013

Breaking the Gingerbread House

2012 is winging down what feels like four or more months of concentrated family events and parties, in my life. It’s been wonderful and a great distraction from world news and events.

Those of us in Oregon have been fortunate to avoid the flu this holiday season. Our California visitors barely recovered in order to travel here, and one house in Ohio was under quarantine by the evening on Christmas Day. Those not suffering from intestinal complaints had gotten their flu shot. This meant the primary chef was off the hook from accusations of having poisoned the family.

I have mixed opinions regarding the annual flu shot and have never had one. I feel it is better to remain healthy enough to survive the flu, if I get it, than to inject a virus into my body. I’ve also noticed that flu symptoms are different every year yet, for some reason, the flu shot for the year seems to be the best prevention for that years’ flavor. How do they know it’s going to be an intestinal flu year instead of a bronchial flu year?

I will resist going off on a misinformed and viral tangent. This year has brought us enough tragedies and cliff hangers. We’ve also celebrated significant life events like a funeral, a wedding, new homes, and schools. This year has been an example of: Life is What Happens on the Journey Between Events.

Here’s a review some esoteric elements:

2012 = 5 that in numerology represents the energy of change, the earth, and an assertive and central force. It was also the Year of The Dragon, representative of the pioneering spirit while being unaware of what’s unfolding in the shadows.

2013 = 6 that in numerology represents the energy of love, diplomacy, and tolerance with convictions. It will soon be the Year of The Snake, representative of a self-reliant focus in business and pleasure,  and with the patience to bite with venomous efficiency if needed and at the right time.

I’ve marked my calendar with events and goals for the year ahead. Our festive year-end-new-year celebrations have the flavor of what we would choose to do any day of the year. So that’s my advice and wish for you -

May this new year Begin the Journey You Will Love to Live.

A Sandy Concert

Ed and I attended a Holiday Concert at Sandy Grade School this Monday morning.

Living in Sandy, Oregon, was a dream-come-true for our eldest in 2011. She and her sons have been thrilled to be so blessed in their home and lifestyle. This daughter was the most defiant, at the age of 16, when we moved our family to Oregon from New Jersey in 1997.

On Tuesday 12/11/12, the final papers were signed for full ownership of that home in Sandy. But on leaving the bank, at 3:33 pm, the euphoric home owner had to pull over to the side of the road a dozen times, those first 3 miles, for the police and emergency vehicles en-route to the shooting at the Clackamas Town Center. So before the transfer of title paperwork had even been filed, our eldest daughter expressed her desire to move her family to the wilds of Montana. She’s never been there but it looks serene in pictures.

Last month, as Hurricane Sandy devastated the east coast, there was a lot of communication between all of us with friends and family hit hard by the storm. We were thankful to be safe from the winds and rains here, and that everyone we personally know survived Hurricane Sandy.

The horrific, and heartbreaking, tragedy on Friday, 12/14/2012, took place in Sandyhook Elementary School. Arriving at Sandy Grade School for an 8:30 am concert this Monday morning was poignant on many emotional levels. As a mother, and grandmother, I will be associated with Sandy Grade School for at least a dozen more years.

Those Sandyhook/Newtown families will get prayers for healing from me during those years because the Sandy connection between these two elementary schools is now entwined for me with both gratitude and compassion. I am grateful to attend happy events at my grandsons school but they will always trigger a surge of compassion for those families who’s lives have been irrevocably transformed.

There was a tenseness among the staff and concert attendees in Sandy Grade School. Everyone was determined to meet and hold eye contact with strangers. Eventually, some even smiled.

The children were all smiling faces and vibrant voices as they performed.

Later on Monday, Ed and I shopped at the Clackamas Town Center. There were many people there and, again, we noticed the majority of strangers were looking directly at each other, and us, making and holding eye contact. This was not with suspicion or fear but I felt it was with an energy of awareness to see and be seen. I think this is good.

We are all connected as humans and it is time to see each other and ourselves as such. I hope this massacre of innocents is the tipping point. Our children and future generations deserve a rich and joyful life. It’s what my ancestors worked to achieve for themselves and us. They succeeded as I and my family, and friends, do live a rich and joyful life. Now it’s our turn to keep growing the energy of compassion and gratitude.

It’s what all innocents deserve. Then the actions they take as adults will reflect and continue to expand our awareness to see and be seen by others. We are all connected, on Mother Earth, and to a universal and eternal love. It’s time for our actions to reflect those beliefs.

New friends and other thoughts

At a baby shower a few years ago. My youngest daughter observing me, being me…

I met a new friend this week. I’ve been resistant to the “new friend” type of relationship because I’m blessed with nurturing family members who “get” me and I adore them for who they are.

There’s a sense of comfort and safety in only being around those who know my life story. We can all look at me “drinking” a goblet of gumballs at an alcohol-free event and chuckle at the layers upon layers beneath that flash of fun.

I’m not sure when this picture was taken – 2008? – but someone in my family knows the date and that’s what matters. It was a fun moment for me during what I hope to soon be referring to as – my turbulent decade.

Juanita at theonenesschanellings posted:

This week is very much about changing elements and shifting energies with Venus, Mercury, Mars and Saturn changing signs, and Jupiter stationing retrograde – all this occurring just within the first week of October!  These energies are about the deep serious inner work that will reveal all that is ripe for change and due for an overhaul – the real hard work of restructuring, recreating and actively participating in change!

Yes, I get it. My turbulence decade is winding down and a stellar transformation is in process. Thanks. Wonderful. Can I please curl up in the corner by the fire with a good book – now?

We’ve got apocalyptic calendars, and another election.  I’ve lived long enough and “get” that I really like when  someone cares that I am in my nice home and I have a a good night’s sleep.

Each dawn begins a new adventure. Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are the inalienable rights of being an American. Well, that’s a journey for many still… But, until then, it’s nice, during these turbulent times, when someone gives a damn that I am at home and happy – curled up by the fire with a good book. Trish MacGregor’s “Ghost Key” an Paty Jager’ s “Mayan Moon” are only two of the books sitting on my table that I want to read.

BUT – I’m ready for the next adventure. For that, and the decades of my life I have yet to live, new friends are awesome. They inspire me, they delight me, and I love telling my old friends and family about the new friends I’ve met.

I am  really selective about new friends.

Be Curious

The new Zen garden that lines our driveway.

This Harvest Moon has been anticipated as profound by astrologers and now it’s here.

Two big Grand Crosses, separated by Sextiles, and a Grand Trine to one corner of each of the Grand Crosses.

Jim at JBuss Astrology waxes enthusiastic about what all that means, and in a way hobby astrologers can almost understand, if there wasn’t so much going on in the stars. So I want to highlight two of his main summary points:

Take your Attention off of a Past that has passed and is indeed past, and put it on the Future you are co-creating.  It has already begun.

The frame of mind you want is Curiosity; how will we co-create this new World? …

We don’t know how that will evolve, and we will serve it best by holding Curiosity about how it will move and change and what it might look like as it grows.

That’s great advice. Curiosity encourages us to ask why, and why does it matter. The curious are not easy prey to the biggest hype or the loudest voice.

If the curious do take a stand, on anything, they usually have all their ducks in a row. They may be comparing ducks to beavers but at least they’ve got it half right. I’m not saying Jim at JBuss Astrology is only half right – actually he’s one of the few astrologers I actually enjoy reading and promote here as – readable. The point is – as he stated in the following post:

Fergot to mention one of the most important elements – the Moon’s Nodes are now in Scorpio-Taurus. Hence the traumadramas.

I’m a Taurus woman, with a Scorpio moon, so I’m hard wired by the stars for tramadrams – and curiosity has been my personal salvation. Issues in my life have spanned abandonment to trauma, and I even learned to play a Zither.

I am curious and have a very high reading-retention level. What I read is rather eclectic and I feel informed about the variety of apocalyptic predictions through history and around the globe. So I’m going to state, for the record, they are already past. We’re already in the new world order, the shift has happened, even on all the biblical proportions, and now – we are already there –  all bets are off.

My dad used to say: Growing old is not for the weak and feeble.  I’m going to reword that now: Growing up is for the strong and healthy.

The frame of mind you want is Curiosity; how will we co-create this new World?

Another post I read on the same day as the above is: “The Hopes and Dreams of Truly Awful People” where Art Holcomb clarifies that the best villains in a drama absolutely know – they are the heroes of their own story.

Curiosity has been my personal salvation, what’s yours?

Color Spots

My garden in the front of my house has been neglected the past few years. I’ve always created my gardens with perennial flowers and flowering bushes as I like watching them broaden and grow over the years. I’m into bulbs too because it’s always a surprise when they appear. Whenever I start a new garden, I will strategically plan the accent pieces then fill in with annuals while the slower growing plants establish their space and size. I enjoy trimming and shaping them a little as possible. I’m really more a create-your-own-shape gardener.

The decorative gardens around my current home were created 15 years ago, and they were well established in a few years. I’d add some annuals to fill in bare spots for fun and a variety of color. I added pots around the deck and where soil or sun just wasn’t enough. Then there was a winter where I couldn’t wait to work in the garden and began creating indoor pots with well chosen plants to enhance the Feng Shui energy in my home.

But time and distance, enhanced by some wacky weather in recent summers, has made my outdoor gardens sparse in some areas and horribly overgrown in others. Moles have munched on my bulbs so spring brings few surprises. As our girls are now gone, we seldom host parties in our “empty nest.”

I hadn’t realized how sad my gardens had become.

Flower gifts to my father-in-law’s funeral were exceptional. The beautiful arrangements brought home spanned the length of the garage – and the aroma was amazing. The first task was distributing and donating these arrangements while still fresh so they could be enjoyed. There were lots of mums in those arrangements, and a few asters, that are now planted in my in-laws flower gardens. Since transporting them from Ohio to Oregon wasn’t an option, I didn’t think about what I was missing until I got home to my sad, and exceptionally dry (I didn’t think about asking anyone to water them!) gardens.

There are now four separate color spots, like those pictured, in my garden as there were a lot of red and white mums in those funeral bouquets honoring my father-in-law. But that was just the beginning since he was a master gardener.

I added some more mums, after I trimmed back everything except my asters.

Asters on the right, mums on the left. Zodiac sundial in the middle.

Our Blue Moon

The Blue Moon rose in an awesome sky.

It was still in the sky the following morning.

The Full Moon is the culmination of the waxing cycle. Check out Steven Nelson’s GAIA Moon Magic Forecast for September.

Labor Day weekend is the final holiday weekend of the summer in the USA as it heralds the beginning of the school year. There was a strong flavor of celebration all around the lake at our weekend place. The campground was full and many of the owner lots were overflowing with clusters of tents and trailers. The shore around the lake was decorated with shade canopies and every style and color of chair. All types of floats and boats were on the water.

My friend and I enjoyed kayaking with the waves created by all the powered watercraft but we stayed out of the paths of the skiers. We also “rescued” a young man seated in an inflatable pontoon boat as he’d lost one of the oars. Our kayak paddles float but his oar sank like a rock and he was patiently waiting for the waves to push him to shore. We attached a bungee cord to the rear of my kayak and he hung on to the other end, and my friend pushed him from behind. We all laughed a lot.

Many of my personal conversations, in recent weeks, were flavored with a desire for new schedules and routines. Most related to friends and family who are involved in new homes that are being built or remodeled. Others are moving in, or still unpacking, or waiting for closing, or just beginning to shop for a home.

The most dramatic “new home” story is:  My sister and niece arrived in New Orleans in search of an apartment before the new college semester begins. They spent days in the dark as Hurricane Issac devastated the area. Seven years ago, the remnants of Hurricane Katrina turned off the power for an hour at the funeral home where we were all gathered for our dad’s wake. Those memories made the experience more weird. They are both fine and have secured a place for my niece that can be occupied now, while many of the dorms are unavailable until after clean up.

The school schedule dominated my life for many years and I still feel the Labor Day weekend is the pause to regroup before a new adventure begins. I just don’t know yet what it may be. The new home idea has been explored in theory for months, it’s hard not to think about when it’s all around me, but I really don’t want the disruption.

The Blue Moon fulfillment energy, for me personally, represents the decision not to move to a new home. I have many projects in process and it’s good to continue bringing them to completion instead of planning to pack my office into boxes.  This means I’m now free to explore new routines from these familiar foundations.

My new adventure may spring from choosing not to create one. Instead I’ll focus on how to enhance the adventure I’ve already chosen.

Distracted by research

This research excuse for “not writing” is usually heard from historical and paranormal writers as they delve into their world building. I always felt there was enough in the here and now to fulfill my stories and all I needed to worry about was plot and character.

I’ve been absent from blogging here because of beautiful weather, places to go, things to do, stories to read, wood to stack in preparation of the winter months, and new adjustments to my writing schedule. My routine is being challenged by constantly shifting to new locations and grabbing a few hours of computer time because I’m totally not plugged in to all the wi-fi apps and such.  But the primary research distracting me from posting to this blog is – I’ve been exploring new homes of our friends and family.

Our youngest daughter got the keys for her new-first-home yesterday. It needs some work as it was vacant for almost a year, but they are young and have all types of resources to get it awesome in the next few weeks before they move in.   The bonus is the location and that a sister and a friend are within walking distance. Barely an hour after she pulled the for sale sign from the front yard this friend, and new puppy who are also new to the neighborhood, stopped in for the dogs to have their first meet and greet, which was a success.

Only two weeks earlier, I walked through one of my friends new home. She’s at the other end of the age spectrum and has designed her new home specifically for her retirement lifestyle and passion for quilting.

Since my primary writing is contemporary romance novels, and memoir, anything regarding home and relationships is research. I have become fascinated by all the variations of what “Home is Where the Heart Is” means to others, as well as myself. Young families are moving into urban settings so they don’t have the weekend yard work routine, others totally want that suburban setting of sidewalks and street parties.

Ed and I, at the youngest edge of the Baby Boomer generation, are watching friends building new homes and lifestyles in their sixties while anticipating decades of activities and no stairs in their homes. Ed and I are also exploring how we are able to work at our daughter’s home while watching our grandsons, or at my sister’s downtown condo, with a better internet connection and cell coverage than we have at our current home.

For decades I have designed my life around promoting the well being of my family. For me this has meant creating a home that was safe and nurturing for everyone in the family to become who they aspire to be. I’m aware that this is not how others see their homes. This has created a problem for me recently because our girls are settled in their own aspirations of being who they are. I, on the other hand, am suddenly only focused on aspiring to be me.

There are all kinds of life activities in my daughters lives that could claim my attention and be wonderful ways to fulfill my time and energy for the rest of my life. It’s strange to realize I don’t have to aspire to be – anything. I could just “BE” and that would totally awesome and more than many on this planet will ever achieve. But even writing that sentence made me laugh.

There have been many occasions for me to pause and reassess who the hell – I AM. These life/lifestyle opportunities were usually at the point of a big transition, and there have been many. A few months of turbulence included wallowing in memories prior to accepting the choices I made that have brought me to today.

The “What If?” and “If only…” are questions I reserve for my fiction.

The only thing I can change about the experiences of my life is my point of view. And now I know that can change depending on my age. My point of view on who I aspire to be today is different now than it was a decade ago. I will have a different point of view about who I am, and who I aspire to be, a decade from now.

Today is what matters. For now, I aspire to be a gypsy who wakes up each day with a sense of wonder for the adventure of the day.

My business is helping authors understand the basics of how to market themselves. My goals are to live each day in a happy place. My dreams are to write stories that enhance readers lives. I’ve already achieved more than many aspire to BE.

And my research has revealed that it is even more important for me to aspire to be more than I AM – while being totally content and fulfilled with Who I Am. Yep, that’s the ticket. Have fun with that, I’m still trying to figure it out. Please post your answers, I can use all the help I can get…

5-speed vacation

My life has been full of travel and activities that have interrupted my posting to this blog. This is a journal style blog and that means I need to have something to say – which I do – but one thought dissolves at a new idea. Lists of ideas do not a good blog post create.

I drove my daughter Lyndsay’s 5-speed VW Golf home from our “weekend-property.” She and Ed took a road trip to Idaho, for a cupcake event, in my car because it has air-conditioning. I haven’t driven a 5-speed manual transmission vehicle for many years. I stalled out once while reversing out of our eldest daughters driveway. Twice I started up from a stop in 3rd-gear but as soon as I realized it, shifted to 2nd…

I listened to Lyndsay’s song mix on CD while driving through the mountains. When I was near town I listened to her radio station of choice. For some reason she’s into ’80′s music and the tunes swirled memories of my college years. My goals then were for an office job and my own studio apartment in a historic neighborhood, maybe living above a row of specialty shops or a bakery. These weren’t big dreams but during college I was only passionate about singing and dancing, for fun, not with a desire for a life in musical theater.

The advice to “find your passion, then live it” was not promoted while I was in college. Passion was not the word I would have used to describe my interest in reading and writing. Those activities were as necessary to me as breathing and not ones I considered would generate a paycheck. Books were free at the library and there were enough on the shelves to entertain me for life. Typing my stories required nothing more than paper and there was always a huge supply in my childhood home, and a few typewriters.

In my journey through the decades, I have never lived in a studio apartment, or in a town, or alone. I’ve driven some fun little cars but most were vans, sedans, or trucks, and we’ve primarily lived in family homes in a country setting. It’s all been good and I do not look back with discontent but am reassessing how I look forward.

Today I did errands in this 5-speed and quickly found the zone between clutch and gears. Another week and I’d be as smooth as if it was my own car but we’ll trade cars back tomorrow night.

There is no pause in the travel scheduled on my calendar through the month. I’ll be scrambling for wi-fi connections to scan through dozens upon dozens of email and social media feeds in a few hours. I’ll make lists and notes of ideas to explore when I’m settled back in my office.  I do not take vacations from reading and writing as it’s a primary fabric in the tapestry of my life.

There are grandson-care-days ahead as their care provider is on vacation. Ed and I even plan to take our daily routines into town for a few days so he has a short commute and I get out of the country.

To take a vacation means we leave our familiar routines and embrace a new adventure. We focus on a different environment and pattern to our days. That’s why it is a vacation to drive a daughter’s car around for a day or two. It’s a unique experience that creates a new, and fun, view of the mundane details of my life.

Since I’m alone-at-home  for the moment, I had a late breakfast today with my astrologer sister and she assured me that I should expect more ideas to dissolve before they are explored.  We also discussed how we both have a spare tire around our waists and loose skin flaps on our arms. I attended a dinner party tonight with some of my author friends, but that’s another blog post idea to explore…

These are interesting times on planet earth so it’s important to have fun every day.

The Angela’s in my life

There are three women named Angela in my life.  The one still alive is in the center of this photo with her son. She was named after my grandmother, and there was an aunt who also bore the name.

This Angela is my goddaughter, a unique relationship as at her birth I vowed to be committed to her spiritual journey through her life. Which means, I really had no clue what that meant. I was 21 years old. But I have had marginal contact with her through the years of her life journey and there’s been lots of laughter and fun times. That means I am holding up my end of the vow because there is nothing more spiritual than laughter.

Angela is also my niece, as is the woman in the top right. This creates a confusion of relationships since both of these women have children which means I’m a “great-aunt” on a generational scale as well as being an aunt in the lives of these exceptional women. I do thrive on that “Aunt” energy and am tickled at the “great aunt” title.

This makes me want to explore my memories of my Aunt Angela, one of the toughest cookies in my heritage, and my own godmother. She didn’t have time to read books. A magazine was the most she could allow herself the time to read. My Aunt Angela was no-nonsense, chief cook and bottle washer. And yes, I understand those cliques don’t mean as much to my readers as the do to me.

But Angela is a derivative of Angel and this makes sense to me. My Angela grandmother was a widow with six children in 1929, at the age of 31. Her daughter Angela was nine when her daddy died and she became the responsible one for her younger brother (my daddy) and sister.

My grandmother Angela was a confectioner and her hand dipped chocolate candies were legendary. My godmother (Aunt) Angela’s stews and family meals were legendary as well as her desserts. They didn’t have appliances for their artistry as we do today.

If I do no more than instill the stories of these previous Angela’s on my amazing niece and “goddaughter,” I will have fulfilled my duties to that spiritual vow. What we do with it from that point is a new story, a new generation.

But, being me, I’ll do a bit more. It’s so damn fun.

My grandmother, Angela, and my Aunt Angela, brought amazing meals and desserts into my life. But they could also SING. Yeah, they had beautiful voices. And my goddaughter and niece Angela – well, she can DANCE.

She may be extremely successful in her career as a pharmaceutical rep but she’s also a wonderful dancer. The next generation always takes what was – to a higher level.

Let’s dance.

A text touch

On Tuesday, we got a get well card to send to a family member beginning another round of chemo. As we were on our way to visit the daughter who lives the farthest from us, we decided she could add a note and we’d give it to all our girls to do the same.

Then there were phone calls and text messages to the other three daughters to determine when they could sign it. We added some pictures and it was ready to mail except for one daughter, a CPA, who may have time to meet on Sunday. Or if I wanted to come by her office she didn’t have any meetings scheduled on Friday.

This morning I was doing my hair, and I heard my phone chime that I had a text. When I checked it, it was from our CPA daughter. But it was also the exact same message sent two days earlier, and not the last one, the first one.

Hmm. Weird. Must have been an electronic glitch. So I returned to my hair routine when I remembered, I don’t believe in electronic  glitches. That made me wonder what it was supposed to mean. A few minutes later I realized my lunch date was within a mile of CPA’s office.

I figured out my time frame and sent her a text that I could stop by before my lunch date. Nope, she was at a client for a few hours. Okay, maybe after lunch.

Lunch was done, bill paid, and we were still chatting when the text chimed. CPA was in her office. I stopped by a half hour later.

This is why I pay attention to the little oddities. It wasn’t a big deal to mail the card today, and it wouldn’t have been a big deal to drive over to her house on her day off since it’s near the mall. But if I hadn’t paid attention, it wouldn’t have been a cool story, and so much more fun.

Candle time

I met with friends at a candle party today. I prefer tea lights and votive sized candles over the pillars. Sometimes I’m in the mood for one sparkle of flame in a pretty holder, other times I create an arrangement. I like small candles to light with an intent or prayer and leave it glow until it is complete.

A lot of my writer friends will light a candle and turn on music as a ritual to stimulate their creativity. They use tea lights as a way to frame their time, writing 3 to 4 hours until it sputters out. I’m going to use this ritual to frame my fiction writing this week as I can easily get distracted with other projects and forget that creating story is my priority. Everything else is business.

I enjoy business, I can multitask better than many and it’s fun for me. In recent months I’ve had a variety opportunities tempt me to revisit business routines and activities that used to shape my schedule.

Writing was always my passion that had to be fit into time slots and I’ve been teased into the nostalgic comfort zone of writing being my passion instead of my business. But during the past few months every time I followed a lead on a job, or explored a project defined by the agenda of others, there was an exciting scramble of anticipation then the flame fizzled out. I shrugged and returned to my writing projects. Then something else popped up. Again. And again.

I even got excited about the business of writing, and writers, and distracted from actually writing. But while drafting pages on my new project this past week, I was reminded of the importance of being in that creative flow daily. My characters can multitask on the pages, and I can delve into business when the candle flickers out.

On The Right Road

2011 was a turbulent year for many, me too. But I have a dream, an intent, and not even the republican candidate debates or a month of construction noise and dust in my home has deterred me. I’m not Martin Luther King and maybe only romance novelists will benefit from my dream but they are people too.

C. Morgan Kennedy, my marketing business partner, always takes a personal holiday to honor MLK day, and working on our project was her goal. We’re both excited because when a project is close to completion and it is more than envisioned, well, it’s almost orgasmic.

On Monday I was on my way over to her house for what turned into a six hour meeting with a ton of disruptions. The song on the radio was telling me I’m beautiful and I glanced at the clock and saw 11:33. Double digits on the clock are my personal signal to pay attention, and those numbers were on the clock for quite awhile so I was really determined to pay attention.

The message of 11 to me is: illumination and enlightenment of the duality that life is. 33 is a message for me to bring balance to my creativity, communication and compassion. I know these messages so well it was a split second smack to be aware.

Except that road I was driving is one I travel all the time and there’s nothing to see but trees. It’s a busy four lane divided highway. It’s three miles long and there’s a long stretch visible at all times. Lots of cars were on the other side of the divider going in a different direction.

I was all alone on my side. No cars in sight behind me, nothing but the open road before me. “You are beautiful, just the way you are…” crooning in my ears from the radio. 11:33 nice and steady on the clock.

The Year of the Dragon dawns soon.

“The time for new business ventures and projects. Euphoric and unpredictable, this is the year for outlandish schemes and taking risks. Dragon babies are considered lucky.”

Oh yeah, I’m ready for the ride.

Passion

The word passion popped up many times this weekend, and when I saw the word in text on Sunday morning I realized it was a message. Suddenly, recent random things became interconnected pieces of a puzzle. I love jigsaw puzzles so that’s how I get messages.

Here’s how the pay attention to passion message was presented to me. I’ll list them in chronological order but I saw them all in a flash with that moment of seeing the word in text on Sunday morning.

The movie example I used during my characterization workshop on Saturday is Ever After, a movie I can quote even though I haven’t watched it in a year or more. The Leonardo DaVinci character states, “A life without passion is no life at all.” The Prince Henry character states, during his primary transformation moment, “You have more passion in one memory than I have in my entire being.”

On Friday, we watched the final scenes of The DaVinci Code, and we began at the scene in Teabing’s home with the passionate debate on symbols.  On Saturday night, a friend was looking through our DVD’s for a movie to borrow and pulled out The Passion of Christ, a movie I have never watched but has been in my home since we settled my parents estate. (She put it back.)

When I saw the word passion in print, it was in reference to a woman being told, “I don’t understand your emotional issues since you have a great life.” This is when the idea light bulb flashed for me and I knew I was to pay attention. My comment to her was she needs to channel her passions in a creative way. I also told her I felt I could learn a lot about passion from her journey.

It’s rare for me to get a three movie message for someone else so I am sure there are many reasons for me to get the passion insight that I will continue to explore. In this instance, I spent the rest of the day and had conversations with others, for me to feel comfortable I gave the right advice. This woman had a lot of loss and sadness in her past and few outlets to share it because she wants to be considered upbeat, positive, in control. Which she is, and the man in her life loves that and wants to provide a good lifestyle for her to share. However, it is a busy life with requirements, and there’s been little time for her to explore and find a personal passion. She admitted it is a good lifestyle, that she should appreciate. She doesn’t want to be someone with issues and didn’t realize hers are not issues, but are wounds, and a huge distraction from being passionately creative about her own life. Fortunately, she’s already in professional counseling and my involvement is only as someone who cares.

In my opinion, women have been infused with the feel-happy-be-happy propaganda and this can promote depression if there’s no outlet for a good cry or vent when needed. But too many feel they should keep negativity out of their life as they are dealing with their own issues, and loss is to be avoided. The law of attraction doesn’t differentiate between positive and negative. It responds to passionate intent.

This woman, who triggered my personal pay attention to passion message, has worked hard on her spiritual growth, self esteem, and education. Once she stopped trying to “get past the sadness to be happy,” and made a passionate plea to attract, “help!” it was swift and abundant as the cavalry-charging-to-the-rescue, with hugs. Comfort was always available but first she needed the courage to ask. Hiding wounds does not help them heal. She’s still on the healing journey but with a new sense of constant virtual hugs from many.

The law of attraction doesn’t operate as we feel it should. But it will give us the courage to ask for help. It will attract hugs and support, and deliver comfort and understanding during times of loss and sadness.

So this piece of the passion puzzle is specific to the law of attraction as an energy force within our power, that is for more than attracting wealth, happiness and a good parking spot.

3 times is the charm

“Pay attention” was the phrase used in my school days, it’s been changed to, “Listen up” and “Get a clue” and lots of other phrases. Polly Campbell posted on how Paying Attention is the Key to Success and it’s a great article and I look forward to her practices for honing awareness.

I pay attention but not for a key or to achieve something so ethereal and individual as success. I pay attention because it’s fun. It makes life rich and vibrant and can help me make choices.

Mike Perry posted how paying attention and the power of three can be a way to make a choice, like hearing three people talk about their vacation in Crete is how he chose to do the same. I use this same method.

I’ll get an idea or gut reaction but not take action. Instead I’ll quietly formulate the idea until it feels good. Then I get on with doing my thing (chores, errands, socializing) until something supports that idea. But I need more than one nudge of encouragement, if I get three, that idea is now on my agenda.

reflection

**disclaimer: astrology references commence **

There’s usually an event that stands out in our memories as when the course of our life shifts. There are the chosen ones like weddings, births, graduations, moves, and more. Then there are the events that are a surprise.

Surprise events with a dramatic impact are the inciting incidents in a story and the hero begins a journey that transforms them.  There’s a lot of denial, wishing for what was, and no clue what is yet to come…

One of these life shifting events for me was a phone call on Mother’s Day in 2002. The news was, Mom had been accepted for Hospice House.

There were a bunch of things in my life at that time like unemployment, financial challenges, and living in an animal-infested-hovel in the wilds of Oregon. Where it rains, a lot. The truth is, there were two dogs, a horse, a cat, a bunny and the hovel was a bit old and tawdry but rock solid with decent landscaping and energy efficient appliances. However, I loved working downtown and wearing skirts and nice shoes while chatting with influential people around the globe. And for a few years in my life I was almost doing that.

Mother’s Day has always been an emotional roller coaster day. I’m a mother of four amazing women yet I never intended to take the mommy-track-career. I’m a daughter of a polio quadriplegic which means my mothering skills are more analytical than nurturing. I learned to tie my shoes by direction, not by example. And if I needed a hug it required some maneuvering around the wheelchair.

A lot of tricks and clues are popping up during this current Mercury retrograde. I blame Ed for all of them. He’s the father of those amazing women and he was born under a Mercury retrograde. That means that for a few weeks, a few times a year, he’s in his zone and may actually compute what his wife has to say. The rest of the time he’s flying mach two with his hair on fire.

So I checked the ephemeris and yes, on May 16th, in 2002, Mercury stationed and turned retrograde. That was in Gemini air energy and today in 2011 the Mercury-retrograde-trickster is in Aries fire energy.  Which means this Taurus Earth mother, with a watery moon in Scorpio, is on a new path with no clue where she’s going. But I did officially announce to my daughters last month that I’ve retired from motherhood.

We’ll see what the next nine years will present.

The mommy-track career was not my intention decades ago. I must have known on some level it was the toughest career because it requires being the advocate for dreams. It’s really awesome to see dreams manifest and know you were part of their foundation.

I like to reflect on what I’ve done so far on my life journey and how it is integrated into who I am today.

The moon is full and sunshine is forecast for tomorrow.