Merry Christmas To Me

Another writing year closes and I'm very disappointed in my progress. I could make many excuses but I whine enough so I won't. If you read any of my posts, you know my health problems worsened the last 5 years, more so the past two. So we won't beat that dead horse.

When 2018 started I had high hopes that declined. As the year ends, I am trying to encourage more optimism. To start, I invested in an app to help me edit my writing. Yes, I did. I purchased ProWritingAid, the premium desktop version. The year-end sale was the trigger. For a few months now I've used their Chrome plug-in and tried the online app that limits checks to 500 words.  The results impressed me, but the price was too steep.

Christmas arrived and prices dropped and Santa brought me money to spend only on me. So, I splurged on one thing - ProWritingAid. After I ran several of my writing pieces thru the program, the findings amazed me; it wasn't all bad either. There were many things I got right, and those I got wrong, I recognized right away. Other findings surprised me but the program educated me because not only did it show problems but it explained them.

    I'll be using it in 2019 and beyond, in the hope it will help me stay motivated. Just reviewing the tests it ran gave me a push because it was encouraging to find I know how to write and that the problems are typical of first drafts.

I think this a positive way to end my poor writing year and I hope it can give me the motivation I need. Now, if the weather cooperates, and my rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia improves, I might do much more.

And just so you know, I ran this post through ProWritingAid until I made all the changes it suggested. What do you think?

Christmas Past Part 2

By the time the boys were tucked up, Dani was curled on the sofa watching the the nine o'clock news. Simon dropped next to her and draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Anything interesting, love?" He whispered as he nuzzled her ear.

"Yes, actually."

He raised his head and looked at her. A frown creased the smooth forehead, drawing her brows together. "Ah Darling, you'll get wrinkles like that."

She scowled up at him. "Seriously, Simon."

Ignoring the scowl, he said, "Seriously." He turned to the television. "What's happened?"

"I'm not sure. Someone..." Her voice caught in her throat. "The owner of that big apartment complex that's been in the news and several families were killed tonight. Someone burned the building down."

He sat up and reached for the remote and raised the volume. Video of a blazing three story building filled the screen. People stood milling along in a field across the road from the fire, cars idled along the verge.

"Good Lord," he muttered. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and watched the story unfold. A reporter stepped into the frame and began to talk.

"We're at Sterling Apartments on Piedmont as fire fighters attempt to bring this blaze under control. For the last hour, the building has been burning and we've heard several explosions. We've been unable to determine the cause of those but someone indicated it might be gas mains."

Someone in the studio ask a question into the ear piece and he responded. "Yes, we've confirmed that two families did not make it out and that the owner may have been in the building as well. We don't know if he escaped but no one has been able to locate him."

"At this time, police and fire personnel are asking that you avoid the Piedmont-Garnet area until further notice."

Behind the reporter, flames blossomed to even greater height and the sound of  huge explosion interfered with his audio. Everyone jerked in response and the reporter was frantically speaking into his mike. Immediately, police and firefighters began to order people farther back from the blaze.

Simon stood up and handed her the remote. "I need to make a call, darling."

She stared at him. "Now?"

He strode from the room. "Now," he called over his shoulder.

The study was dark and he didn't turn on the lights but turned on the desk lamp. On his cellphone, he searched for the number he needed and when he found it, he dialed.

"This is Simon. Did you see the news?"

"Yes, I did."

"You want to tell me what that is all about? You know that is the individual you had me read last week."

"We're aware of that, Simon."

"So, what's going on?"

"Nothing you need be concerned about. Enjoy your holiday with your family."

"Don't you bloody hang up on me. Did you know this was going to happen?" Anger tautened his voice and he tried to damp it down.

"Of course we didn't. How would we?"

"You sent me to get information and a week later the guy is dead." He hesitated. "Along with two families. Maybe more."

"Listen, you did your job. It has nothing to do with a house fire."

"You're off your chump if you think I believe that." Simon tapped the top of his desk with his fingers, anger roiling beneath the surface. "I know what we got out of that session. Did we have him killed?"

"I have another call I need to take. You enjoy your time with your family, Simon. We'll see you after the holiday."

"There are at least two families who won't have a holiday." But he was arguing into a dead connection. He swore under his breath, put the phone down, and began to pace in front of his desk. Something was up. Unfortunately, he couldn't do a thing about it.

"Simon?" Dani stepped into the room.

He pulled his thoughts together and cleared his face. He couldn't tell her about this but she was perceptive and might guess. A deep breath and he turned to face her, a smile on his lips.

"Yes?"

"Is everything all right?"

"Of course," he said and gently grasp her shoulders. "I simply remembered a call I needed to make to remind Terry to have my travel papers in for review on Monday."

"But you're off for two weeks, Simon." Worry etched lines into her forehead.

Draping his arm around her shoulder, he turned her and lead her back to the den. "Yes, but they've got to run my itinerary through finance. That takes several days. I don't want to show up to get my documents and find it half processed." He drew her from the room. "How about I make us some hot cocoa?"

Christmas Past Part 1

After placing the last arrangement on the mantle, Dani stepped back and surveyed the room. The lights on the tree twinkled in a rainbow of colors and set the tinsel glittering as it moved in the air from the heat duct. It was beautiful. The fire in the fireplace warmed the room and the Christmas greenery and colorful lights and decorations added to the feeling of warmth.

Simon would have chosen all white lights and decorations in varying shades of white and gold. Everything would have been beautiful but in her view it would have been more like a magazine spread than a place for families to gather. He'd left her with it, over protest. She did let him take care of the outside of the house and it was stunning what he'd done with it. All elegant and tasteful. She made a face in the mirror.

Truth be told, she hated the holidays. They were the most depressing time of year, made worse because one must put on a happy face for the children. Baking cookies, cakes, pies, and all the other accoutrements of the season exhausted her to the point she could barely move by the end of Christmas Day. Then there was the New Year celebrations. She rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh as she dropped the extra string of lights into the storage bin and closed the lid. She'd have Simon take this back to the garage when he finished with the boys.

From somewhere in the back of the house, she could hear the squeal of the boys as they played with Simon. It had become quite rambunctious and she wondered if she should intervene before someone got hurt, probably Simon.

She loved when he could be home for days at a time. Lately, it seemed work got more of him than she and Connor. When he'd told her that he'd be home for two weeks at Christmas, she was elated. He traveled too much and she missed him.

More squeals and she knew there was no use trying to pry him away. He never got to see Connor as much as he wanted as it was and Nicholas even less. Right after the holiday and he'd have to leave again. Europe, he said. He'd invited her to go along but she couldn't take Connor out of school and she wasn't about to leave him with anyone.

"What are you doing, Mama?"

She turned to find Connor standing in the doorway watching her, his head canted to one side and a puzzled frown on his face.

Pushing the crate into the hallway, she grinned at him. "I just finished getting all the decorations up and was about to call your father to come help me put this away. What are you doing? I thought you were with Dad."

"Nicky had to go pee." He leaned to look around her.

She laughed. "Where is Dad?"

The rich sapphire blue eyes he inherited from Simon sparkled with amusement. "He said he needed to rest a minute anyway and I should go find you."

"Ah." She took his hand. "Well, we have cookies in the kitchen. Shall we go find them?"

"Yes, Mama. I'd like that. Can we get some for Nicky, too?"

"Of course. And Daddy."

The went down the hallway, to the kitchen and adjoining family room. Connor climbed up on the stool at the bar and waited. Dani looked into the family room but Simon was nowhere to be seen. He'd probably slipped upstairs while he could make a clean getaway.

"Aunt Dani?" Nicholas came into the kitchen on sock encased feet.

"Nick, where are your shoes?"

"Uncle Simon said we don't wear shoes in the house."

She sighed and gave each of them a small plate of chocolate chip cookies and glasses of milk. "Right. When he's home, we don't."

The cookies were still slightly warm and smelled wonderful. She took one and closed her eyes as it nearly melted in her mouth. How Simon had managed to bake such amazing cookies while playing with the boys was beyond comprehension.

She felt arms slip around her waist from behind and a warm kiss pressed against her neck. "That's the same sensation I get when I . . ."

"Simon!" She snapped.

He laughed and turned her to face him. "I was going to say when I kiss you."

She slid her own arms around his neck. "Of course you were. Where were you?"

Nicholas piped in. "He had to go pee, too."

Simon grinned.

Dani laughed aloud. "Such dignity we have, boys."

"So," Simon said, nuzzling her neck. "Are you finished with the decorating?"

"Yes. There's a box in the hallway that needs to be put in the garage. Would you do that?"

"For you, my darling, I would carry it to the moon and back." His mouth trailed kisses up her neck to her cheek.

Smiling, she gently pushed him back. "The garage is perfectly fine. You can whisper sweet nothings in my ear later, when the boys have gone to bed." She reached behind her and plucked a cookie off the plate and stuck it in his mouth. "Until then, you can have this sweet nothing."


To Be Continued.....

A Wonderful Madness

So, another NaNoWriMo ends. The annual madness is over once again. Another 12 months before it returns. Everything feels different when the madness of NaNo ends.

I didn't get a win this year. I didn't reach 6000 words, in fact. However, I'm fine with it. The last three years have been pretty rough for me and last year, the surgery meant I couldn't even participate as ML or in writing. This year, I had pain problems and illness to keep me down. The truth is that I accept all of this as the universe telling me it is time to stop.

So, this is my last NaNo as municipal liaison. I attended the TGIO on Sunday afternoon to say goodby to the group. I'm glad I did because it was nice to be able to hug them and tell them how very much they meant to me. Not everyone was there and I'd already sent out a regional message informing everyone but getting to see some of them one last time was so nice. Gary McDaniel was there, and as I listened to him talking I realized that when he started he was only 15. Now he was a few years into college! It was awesome. I was so pleased he's stuck with it.

There were others that I could remember when I first met them. DeWayne, Diane, LaGina were long time NaNoWriMos. They became more than my NaNo participants. They became friends!

I started in 2006 when there were six people and no Municipal Liaison. My first year wasn't really much fun because I had no clue and I was pretty invisible. By 2009 we'd grown to 30 people and I had met some great people. In 2010, I became ML and it was so much fun planning and attending the meetings and writing with other participants.

Now, it's time to leave it to others. I was going to do it last year but couldn't bear to give up. It kept me going through the holidays and I could focus on other people rather than my own miseries. This year, I'm so relieved there is a competent person taking the reins and 8 years of hard work won't be lost.

I'm relieved it is over. But I will miss it. I will miss my writers. Gary ask me if I was no longer going to participate as a writer. My response: No. I'm done with that, too. I have 8 novels unfinished on my computer and NaNo is not conducive to finishing novels. You get a really good start but before you can finish it, you're starting to prep for the next one. As an ML, it is even harder. So, at this point, I have no plans to do NaNo again. I'll keep writing. I might go into the site and encourage everyone and see how they're progressing. I'll see the madness but for me, I think I'm over the madness.

Every writer should do NaNo once. See what you're made of. If you're published already, you may already have that answer but if you're still trying to hit that milestone, then do NaNo once. Get the bare bones of the story done and then, work on it. Do it for the madness of it. Do it to learn what kind of writer you are and what motivates you. Can you write under pressure? Does that looming deadline push you forward? Can you sacrifice things you want to do in order to write? NaNo will teach you that.

So, I say "Adieu NaNoWriMo." It was a wonderful madness.

Celebrating The End of a Thing

So, we've had an interesting week. Thank you, God, that it is over! Let me give you a quick rundown. Of course, NaNo started on the 1st of November and I managed to write a little bit at an online write-in but out the gate I was behind. Then, things got a bit ... well, keep reading.
Monday began with a sick cat. Yeah. It began when I got up to get Sarah ready for school at 5:45. In the kitchen I found I was stepping in something and when I turned on the light I found the cat had been sick. All. Over. The. House. Sarah's room, hallway, kitchen, and den. Yeah. After I got Sarah up with the words, "Get up! The cat is sick!" I immediately started cleaning and mopping floors. It was 6 a.m.
Then we discovered that the cat also had diarrhea. The cat box had to be clean and the rug we keep under and around it tossed. I'm not salvaging a $5 rug by cleaning cat poop off of it. But he's a good cat and didn't get any of that particular product on the floors. Well, except one place, where it must have hit him and he ran for the box.
Sarah went to school traumatized about her cat.
I began to gather up the things that needed washing because of the cat sick and cat poop. Fortunately, there was very little because he is a very good cat. He'd obviously had dry heaves because there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. It was mostly clear liquid. He's had diarrhea for a couple of days but we didn't know what to do about it.
Once the moping was done and the laundry going and Sarah at school I called the vet. They saw him at 2:30 p.m. They didn't know what was wrong with him but it was probably some sort of virus.
They gave him a shot to settle his stomach and sent us home with some antibiotics. And the understanding if he wasn't better the next day... well, that would mean we would need diagnostics. We decided to wait until Tuesday morning to give the antibiotic to him. He'd already had a rough start to the day.
Tuesday we gave him the meds that morning. This was a unique experience for me since Jerry had always doctored the animals if they got sick. However, we wrapped Chaz in a towel. Sarah held him against her chest and I used the syringe to give him about a chocolate chip sized amount of this med.
Let me just say, this is an amazing cat. He didn't really fight much when we wrapped him and he is always very still when Sarah is holding him. When I gave him the medicine he didn't really argue about that either. It was when it hit his tongue that he howled and twisted until she had to let him go. He promptly went to the den and puked.
I found him with a 6 inch string of slobber trailing from his mouth. I cleaned him off, apologized, and promptly decided no one should take anything that did that to you. Then, I mopped the floor again.
Sarah went to school traumatized about her cat.
Wednesday, the cat is not eating and doesn't appear to be drinking. We can't afford the second visit to the vet for "diagnostics" that would be required and probably more meds and possibly an overnight stay. So, we just wait for him to get better or die. Yes, die. What can you do? Oh, well, I did pray for him. Sarah cried.
Sarah went to school worried about her cat.
There is, however, a silver lining to my clouds. This is the day when I actually accomplish some writing for NaNoWriMo and it was amazing to be writing. Of course, I haven't written since.
Thursday Chaz was now picking at food and we were wondering if he was drinking anything at all. We even turned on the faucet in the tub to a tiny stream so he'd play in it and maybe get some fluids in him. He washed his paws and face. However, since he still had diarrhea he must not be too dehydrated.
Sarah got up aching all over and went to school a bit less worried about her cat. I thought it must have been gym class on Tuesday since she complained on Wednesday, too.
She also had a counselor's appointment this day at 11 a.m. and it went well. Aside from the cat, she had a good week behaviorally. We started a new plan where she had a check sheet of things she had to do each morning and each evening. When they are done, she gets tablet time. She can get extra time by doing bonus chores. The first two days were hard (in addition to the cat problems) but it got better. Weekends are free days.
After her appointment there was only about an hour and a half of school left. She hadn't had lunch yet so she asked if we could get lunch and then go home. She's felt kind of bad all week with the cat drama and she said she felt sick because she hadn't eaten. So, that's what we did.
We chill out the rest of the day. The house got very quiet and Sarah took a nap for two hours. When she got up she she wasn't feeling well and had an ear ache but no fever. So, I gave her acetaminophen and tried to get her to take some decongestant. She was stuffy.
Long story short, at 7:20 we were at the pediatric urgent care. She had a fever and no ear infection. They sent us home and I realized later, with nothing for her problem. However, Benadryl™ and acetaminophen helped. She felt better, too, because I told her since she had a fever she couldn't go to school on Friday.
Friday was relatively uneventful. The cat was much improved and eating but still had diarrhea. Sarah felt ok and didn't have a fever. I sat and read all day and every time I thought about writing I read some more. Sarah spent the day arguing with me about taking anything to help with the decongestion. I got something from CVS because she's also coughing a bit but the Benadryl™ is really good at head congestion so I told her to take that. She wouldn't.
At least we got to bed at a decent hour.
At 2 a.m. on Friday/Saturday morning Sarah woke me crying about her ear hurting her. I fuss because she had refused to take any of the medicine I told her to take. I remembered the ear pain drops and get those but she said it didn't work. She still doesn't want to take the acetaminophen and Benadryl™ but since there is no fever and the urgent cares are closed, we're not going to the doctor. I gave her the meds and for the next half hour she complained.
Then I remember about hot packs. I got my hot pad that I use for my migraine headaches, heat it up and have her put it on her ear. I had to reheat it once about 30 minutes later but then she went to sleep. I figure between the medicines, pain relievers, and hot pad she would rest.
We both slept in this morning but I now have a headache and I'm using the hot pad. I'm trying to write on the novel between eating, washing dishes, cleaning the kitchen, and Mike coming in. So, I've not made much headway. I'll keep trying.
 As I finish writing this, Sarah came in and read over my shoulder. When she was done she said, "You know, Mawmaw, when you write you're really a funny person."

 I said, "I am?"

 She said, "Yes. But in reality, you aren't funny at all." She turned and left the room. 

 Everyone's a critic.

I Have A Right!

During her homework last night, my granddaughter Sarah and I talked about the Magna Carta and how it changed the world, particularly in regards to the Constitution of the United States, in addition to other nations. The subject of rights came up.  I tried to explain that everyone has rights established under law. A sort of light went off in her head and she said, “Oh! I have a right to be on my tablet.”

Just so you know, she is not allowed to have her table after school in the evenings. There’s a reason I won’t go into but that’s enough for you to follow the conversation. I said, “No, you don’t. That’s not a right, that’s a privilege.”

“But that’s the same thing!”

I looked at her in total shock. When I could speak, I said, “And that’s what’s wrong with your generation and the current one. Privileges are not rights.”

The confusion and frustration on her face made it pretty clear what she thought about that. 

A right, according The American Heritage College Dictionary, 3rd Edition, 1993, is as follows. 

Right: Something due a person or community by law, tradition, or nature.

However, a privilege is different in nature and scope.

Privilege: A special advantage, immunity, right, or benefit granted to or enjoyed by an individual, class, or caste. B. such a privilege, held as a prerogative of status or rank and exercised to the exclusion or detriment of others.

 As a writer you learn that words are powerful and they are very specific in what they do. They mean what they say. Sarah obviously didn't understand these two words. So, I explained it this way. You have a right to food, shelter, and a warm place to sleep. But, not everyone has that. If you have those things, it is a privilege. If you’re sleeping in a tent under the bridge, you still have a right to those things but you’re not privileged to have them, for whatever reason. Not everyone has a home, but they have the right to purchase one or rent one. They may not have the privilege of them but they have a right to obtain them at their own expense. 

You have the right to say what you want, go where you want, watch what you want, eat what you want, worship where you please. These are rights granted by the law of this nation. They are also privileges. 

However, you do not have the right to force me to agree with you. Nor do you have a right to punish me for the crimes of other people, or your imagined offenses. You do not have the right to take what is mine. It is my right to protect myself and my possessions. I’m an adult and can do things you are not allowed to do. That’s privilege.

As we talked about this, I realized just how bad the world is messed up. Somewhere we stopped teaching children about the difference in a right and a privilege and started teaching them that their privileges were their legal rights. That’s absolutely false and it is at the very root of what is wrong in this country. 

A people who live solely by privilege. are enslaved to the good graces of those in charge. A people who live by law are all equal before the law. Read that privilege definition again: a privilege, held as a prerogative of status or rank and exercised to the exclusion or detriment of others. That’s extremely prejudicial. 

You really don’t want to live in a nation of privilege. You want to live in a nation of law and follow that law so not only are your rights protected but you enjoy the privileges allowed by those laws and not by the whims of those in a higher status or a higher rank. 

Notice also that a privilege can be to the detriment of others. I can have a privilege that is denied to you. I can’t have a right, established by law, that you don’t have. Before the law, we’re all treated equally. In the face of privilege, you’re  a nobody. My privileges matter more than yours. What I want is more important that what you want. I need things more than you and I have a RIGHT to them! 

No, you don’t. Because a right is not a privilege unless it is established by law, nature, or tradition. 

And this is where racism comes into play. Someone decided that race established rights and privileges. It doesn’t. Rights before the law are blind. It is why Lady Justice wears a blindfold. Privileges are generally earned by work or behavioral means. You gain them in some fashion that exhibits their worth. I had to work to be able to buy a house, car, food, and my computer. It was a privileged to be able to have these things. It is my right to use my property as I see fit. 

I don’t know who the thought police are but anyone changing the perception of the public is up to no good. They have convinced two generations that their privileges were their rights and that rights were privileges. In this case, neither is true. 

You must remember, rights are protected by law. Privileges can be revoked any time they want to revoke them. When you begin to believe that rights are privileges, you are on the brink of having them removed. Is that really what you want?

We are a nation of laws. Several presidents have said that. I’ve repeated it. Last night I gave Sarah a lesson on the difference in rights and privileges. Her confusion of the two stunned me that much.  It made me aware that we’ve made a terrible mistake in not monitoring the perceptions of our children more closely. She’s 12 and I assumed she’d know the difference. 

If you have children, you might want to ask them if they know the difference between their rights and their privileges. If they do, wonderful. If they don’t, sit down and have a chat. You don’t want your 13 year old thinking they have a right to drive your Lexus.

October Items

In lieu of writing a blog, I've elected to post a vlog. It is on YouTube but I'll put the link here. 

I think I've covered everything and I apologize if you find it boring, but this is a very easy way for me to catch my family and friends up. Stay as long as you like, leave when you're done. I'll still love you in the morning. 

Bombs Away

Saturday was an interesting day. I don't know if you'd find it so but it was mostly a nice day.

Sarah was out of school for three days and we decided to "bomb" the house. We packed up, took the cat to my sister's and headed out to McDonald's for a couple of hours with fumigators running inside and under the house. We had to be out for 4 hours.

After brunch, we headed to the library and I wrote for about an hour and a half. Once our time was up, we headed home. Mike had already gone in and cleared the house, opening windows and turning on fans to flush the air. So, I didn't have to do much.

We attempted to go back to the library on Monday but unfortunately, Columbus closed them. Boo, we were sorely disappointed.

Today is Sunday the 14th, seven days after I started this post! Things kind of went squirrely after this. Sarah went back to school on Wednesday and had to miss Thursday. She was really sick Wednesday night from the increased dose of her medicine. She takes and the ADD medicine and the higher dose has just made her too sick to take. So, they've reduced it back to the previous dose and we watch.

On Friday, she was back at school but if you recall I've been fighting severe fatigue so I slept a lot that day. The weather turned on all of us, with the Gulf Coast getting a hurricane. All my family lives in the area affected by hurricane Michael. Virtually my whole family lives in the coastal regions. I have family in Mobile, Alabama, inland about 2 hrs on the Alabama/Florida line near Dothan, in the Panhandle, and even in Georgia, near Atlanta. I have family in South Carolina, too. So, I watched the reports carefully and tried to touch base with those in the highest risk areas. Most of those evacuated.  My brother-in-law had one death from the storm.

Meanwhile, it was raining in my town in S. Indiana. We needed the rain but it brought cooler air. For about two days I managed to keep the heat off but the house got too cool for us to handle so we turned it on. It is still a bit cooler than I like but we're dressing in warmer clothes and sandals are stored. I'm wearing socks a lot. Mike got ill this week and I've been trying to help him. Needless to say, I was kind of worn out.

As of today, Sunday the 14th, I'm feeling amazingly better. For a month, at least, I've had problems with severe fatigue and spent more time sleeping than anything else. I have been unable to do anything because the simplest task exhausted me. My brain simply felt as if it was stuffed with cotton and trying to purchase a car in that condition is not wise. I think I got a good car but I noticed things that I should have noticed before I purchased it. I could have negotiated I think. Hindsight is worthless.

Friday I had a brainwave that must have broken through the fog. I suddenly realized that some time ago, maybe last year, I had experienced this "I want to die" fatigue and brain fog. Yes, that is exactly how you feel, by the way. I feel like I am going to die if I don't lie down and sleep. By Friday I was having dizzy spells, too. I've been having muscle pain, joint pain, shooting pains in my legs, severe fatigue, problems with my vision, and inability to focus or process things. Friday I remembered that when I had many of these symptoms before, I had been off my D for 2 months.

About three months ago, my D went too high as a result of taking Vitamine K with the D3. K helps the body absorb D. And it did. I went over 130. That's bad. I broke out in a rash, a symptom of too much D. They told me to stop taking it. I was feeling really good except for the rash but I stopped it. I haven't gone back on it. I've asked to be check again last month because I was feeling bad and I told my RA doctor I thought I needed to be checked again. She made no comment and didn't order the test. I've been off D & K the whole time. K will also thin your blood so I don't want to take it all the time.

By this Friday, things were getting critical. I knew I was in trouble when the dizziness started. Something was wrong. I took two 5000 mg of D. That is what I was taking regularly for over 10 yrs before I took the K. When I woke up Saturday morning it was evident I was better. I wasn't tired when I woke up. I didn't get sleepy all day. I wasn't dizzy. I had no visual problems, no pain except some shoulder pain I've been having problems with. I took 2 more 5000 mg Saturday. Today, I'm fine. Not sleepy other than getting a bit drowsy in church. My thinking feels clearer and I feel ... better, less stressed.

I think I've validated my intuition about my sensitivity to low D levels. I have no way to tell how low they got now because no one checked. I called my primary care doctor on Friday and told them what was happening and that I was concerned and felt I needed to be checked again. He was out but they'll tell him on Monday. Too late. I could have waited but I have to admit to being frightened. The symptoms were getting worse with each passing day. Today, all of those symptoms seem to be gone.

You have to listen to your body and you have to pay attention to symptoms. I should start journaling these things so I can keep track but it is one more thing to keep up with and honestly, I just don't want to bother. No one will listen to me anyway.

I hope that now I can get some real writing done. For now, I'm going to take my Sunday afternoon nap. Sunday is a day of rest and I always say we all need naps on that day because God intends to make us rest.

That's my story.

The Hunt is Over

I walked out the front door this morning and saw a classic car parked in front of the neighbor's house. The design appeared to be a 50s model and I think it was an Oldsmobile because the hood ornament reminded me of those cars. In an instant, I had a story idea. I'd love to share it but I'm afraid too! I don't want anyone to steal it.

Since I was on my way to take Sarah to school, I couldn't very well stop and write it but I did keep it in my mind all day so I think it is a sound idea. Now, to get time to actually sit down and write.

The good news is the car shopping is done. I found a car and I should be able to drive it home by Wednesday. Good thing too, the rental is due back that day. Honestly, I'm glad. I'm exhausted from all this. I've either been looking for a car, calling about a car, test driving a car, talking to dealers, bankers, and insurances people. I need to rest.

Oh, what did I get? A 2016 Ford Fusion SE, white with black interior. It isn't what I really wanted but what I wanted was bigger than my pocketbook. It will do. I miss my Sebring. It was so roomy and it was paid for. Still very frustrated by all of it. I really can't afford a car payment and it is going to really restrict my movement a lot but at least I can take care of business without trying to get a ride.

So, here it is. This is the car I bought. In fact, this is where I bought it. I do like the classy look of it and it drove well. We'll see. It is smaller than the Sebring so it will be cheaper on gas but it also has less interior room. I'll just be glad to get wheels.

The Hunt for Motivation

Should I really write about writing? Or should I write about not writing? Because that's really how it has been going. Between a major flare, totaling my car, homework, major fatigue, and trying to get some of the projects I've begun finished I have not written a thing. I've been doing some reading as time allows.

Honestly, I've had to sleep nearly 2 hours during the day every day to stay mobile. The fatigue is just killing me slowly. For two weeks I seemed to be turning a corner. That is funnier than you know. On Friday the 21st, I got rear-ended in the parking lot of Rural King when someone else turned a corner and slammed into my car.  I was half out of my parking space when a Silverado hit me in the rear. He said he didn't see me. I think he probably didn't and with his arm in a sling, he probably couldn't handle that truck very well.

So, since the 21st, I've been sitting worrying about what I'm going to do. Can't afford a car payment now and no savings to buy a car. The cherry on the top is that my car is apparently only worth $3700. Wow. There was nothing wrong with it and if the bozo had paid attention, I'd have a car I know runs well and actually looked fine.

Did I mention that I get really angry when I think about this? I hate car shopping. My late husband always did that. He'd bring one home for me to drive and if we both liked it, we'd buy it. I'm not wired for this. And don't dare say anything to me about independence, power, and all that crap. On my home planet, I was a queen. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I'd give anything for the King to return. Or just let me go home again.

For now, I'm going to bed. I have no more desire to do another thing and I'm feeling a bit sick. Tomorrow, I begin again to look for an affordable vehicle. I believe there is a good car out there waiting for me. The search is just so overwhelming. I'm just having trouble making myself move.

Moving Better but Writing ... Not

So, how is September going for you?

For me, meh. No writing, unless you count this post but I've got a lot of stuff done in the house. Move a bit of furniture but hated it so moved it back. Swept floors, washed and put away tons of laundry. I still have the blasted sheets to do but don't I always. I hate folding sheets!

What's happening in your writing world? Come on! Spill the beans. No one here but me and you so just tell it already.

The best news I have today is that I've had so little pain with my joints that I'm a bit freaked out about it, thankful but freaked. I don't actually know why I've had so little pain. I had a horrible backache all night Saturday and yesterday. My lower back is just giving me a fit lately but I suspect that's because my weight since my surgery is ridiculous. And the mattress is not working. Yes, I need to address the weight issue but until recently, I could do very little physically.

I do have some speculation as to why my pain is better but it seems so off the wall I don't want to even tell it. I am going to tell the doctor if this trend continues until I see her.

Here's the thing. I started taking a supplement at least a month ago that I've never tried before. I did this because I ran across some disturbing information that I should have had before but didn't. MRI's with contrast put a heavy metal into the body. Whatever is in the dye is a heavy metal. Did you know that? I didn't. You know what I think when I hear the word dye... Rit. Yep. Apparently, this is not the stuff that comes in a little box or bottle at Wal-mart.

I looked up side effects while biting my nails and ran across this article:  https://gadoliniumtoxicity.com/help/symptoms/. I had one reaction that I remember. I felt very hot and as if there was tiny pellets vibrating under my skin. This was during the MRI and I told them about it. I did not like it. They said it was nothing to worry about. Uh... WRONG! 

That said, I researched heavy metal removal and found that Spirulina and Chlorella help do this. I went on Amazon and researched there until I found what I felt comfortable ordering. I've been taking it a month. And... well, I feel better. I can't explain it.

There is one problem. I've been taking diphenhydramine at night to help with my sinuses and because it really helps me sleeps better. I noticed once before when I took this that I had less joint pain. I researched for a connection to Benedryl and RA but found nothing but a study done in 1952 using Phenergan. It wasn't much help. However, recently I used Google Scholar and pulled up numerous studies that reference diphenhydramine and a treatment of RA! Totally stunned. The studies reference a drug called Remicade, which I do not take, and pretreatment with diphenhydramine. Skimming what I could from the abstracted posts, it appears that and acetaminophen together helps in some way with side effects/allergic reactions. ?? It was mostly greek to me but I was able to get a little logic from it. Now I want to know if my doctor will have a clue.

Don't care if she does or not. One or both of these have helped my pain levels stay way down and if I could lick the fatigue, I'd be jumping through hoops. I feel constantly tired enough to fall asleep if I lie down.

Now? Well, now I just want to sit down and write but when you feel this good and things are so far behind, you feel guilty not doing what needs to be done. I don't think I can win. I really don't.

For now, I'll just stay busy. Staying on my feet and moving around seems to keep me awake, although, I still feel very tired. I do hope your September is progressing well.

Writing Turtles

The good news is that I've been writing this month and for the month of July & August I have written 4,168 words in probably three stories.

The bad news is that it is all over the place and so sloooow. Three stories! That's not how you're supposed to do it. Unfortunately, I'm a slave to the muse. When she says froggy, I jump.

I will say that most of that occurred in Dream Stealer so I feel a bit better about it. Honestly, I feel like I've started a new story there. I'm not writing at all on the original story, but rather, I'm writing the backstory that now feels like it is THE story. So, I have no idea what to do about that. I'm just listening to Simon and writing it all down.

The other two stories were an anthology story and a new (maybe) short story. I don't know. They just happened to present themselves so I went with it.

Does any of this ever happen to other writers? I really want to know!

I'm just so glad to be writing again, even a small amount, that I'll write whatever story my brain pulls out. I was getting seriously depressed at not being able to get the words down. Heck, I couldn't get them out of my head. They were there, sitting, gathering dust and beginning to stink. It is a relief to get rid of them.

I have some plans this week to get me moving and hopefully alleviate some of the fatigue. I don't want to go into it now. Just in case I jinks it. We'll see how that goes.

My goal this week is to see if I can get 500 words down in something that is farther along than what I've been messing with. How about Long Summer Run, whose first draft is so near completion? That's a novel idea.

Of course, I'm very aware that this sudden spate of words could evaporate if a flare hits me like a meteor shower. In a moment, I can go from feeling great to rock bottom. From 60-0. Really.

There is one other bit of good news. August isn't over for a couple of weeks. We'll see how it goes.

As I finished this post and got the title, I realized it is a play on words. Writing Turtles. Writing Hurdles. Riding Turtles. Seemed appropriate.

Don't mind me. I'm tired.

Finding the Silver Lining

Writers write about everything, or I do, at least. I write blogs no one reads. I write stories. I write emails to friends and relatives. I write reviews on Amazon. Really, I write everything. I even like writing in my calendar, by hand. However - I rarely write a complain letter to a manufacturer. I have done but not many and I couldn't tell you when was the last time I wrote one. Well, until this month, anyway.

Like many folks, I buy plastic bags to use for a variety of things. Sandwiches, small parts, screws, and even toiletries when I travel. I rarely use them in the freezer. Who wants hand lotions on their Sunday best. With all those new travel restrictions in the last dozen years regarding liquids, I suspect plastic bags are booming. I've even put paper items and photos in these bags. I've covered cameras while canoeing. I mean, they float when sealed.

I can't tell you what my favorite brand is but I do prefer the quart and gallon sized freezer bags. I only buy ones for freezer use because long ago I discovered these recycled really easily and have so many uses. I can wash them and put them away.

Recently, I ran out of bags so I bought a couple of boxes of Ziploc^©  bags. Let me just say here that I don't like the zippered bags at all. They don't seal well and it is just one more piece of plastic to drop in the landfill or ocean. Why would a bag with a zip feature need a zipper? So, I buy the simple old style bags. Until now, they've worked.

The last time I bought this particular brand by Ziploc^©  I noticed a slight style change. It could have been around for a while. Truthfully, I buy Glad^©  freezer bags most of the time so that's probably why I didn't notice. The store didn't have any without the added zipper feature so I opted for Ziploc^© . Anyway, on the Ziploc^©  brand, the tab at the opening of the bag is now red. The other thing I noticed is that virtually every time I use one, the extended red tab tears off when I try and open the bag. I end up tossing the bag unused because I can't open it!

What you have to remember is I have problems with my hands. Not only do I have rheumatoid arthritis, I have nerve damage in my dominant left hand that creates a dexterity/strength problem with certain tasks. Opening a plastic bag with a zip feature is one of those things. These bags seal very well. So well, in fact, that at times, I can't open them because I can't get a grip strong enough to open it. I suspect this is why they added an extended tab on only one side of the bags. It is a good idea... when it works.

This past week I ended up ripping off the tab of a bag I was attempting to open. I've done this a few times recently. This day I was particularly annoyed because the damaged hand has been giving me a lot of pain and trouble. This was the proverbial camel. I went to my computer and dashed off a complaint letter to the company. This wasn't easy. It was a bit like opening their bags. I had intended to just write a negative review but they don't have a place to do that on their site. After diligent searching, I found their "Contact Us" page.

Here is my email: 

Quart size bags with the red top. Worst bags I've ever used, and I've used all of them. The tab tears off when you try and open it, even BEFORE you use it. And nearly every time! For every two I have to toss one. I'm disgusted. These are bad for the environment already. I try and recycle as many times as possible but with this style, it is bitting my budget. No more.

I felt better. Perhaps, they'd fix the bags so folks wouldn't have the problem. I can't believe I'm the only person with a problem, so maybe there'd be a positive outcome.

There was.

Here is a part of their very courteous and sympathetic response.

We stand behind our products and we're happy to make this right. In hopes you'll continue using Ziploc®, I’m mailing five personalized, full value coupons to the address you provided. I've also tucked in a booklet of money saving coupons for a variety of SC Johnson products. Please expect them to arrive in about two weeks.
For awareness, Ziploc® Bags now use the How2Recycle Label system. You can find participating stores with drop off locations at plasticfilmrecycling.org – best options are Target, Walmart and most grocery stores. 
We sincerely appreciate hearing from you, Cynthia – please let us know if we can help in the future.

There was more but I reduced it down to the really important stuff. I appreciate that they sent me a link to find recycling locations. That's a really great thing. What I found astounding was this sentence. I’m mailing five personalized, full value coupons to the address you provided.

They're going to send me coupons to buy FIVE more boxes of these bags.

I never considered that they'd send me freebies but it is a nice thing for them to do. I simply wanted to inform them of a defect I felt their product had and my intention to not buy the bags again in their current state. While I might be able to use the booklet coupons, why would I buy FIVE more boxes of something that sends me into a conniption fit?

I take comfort in knowing they are probably going to consider this problem. I like that they were so nice and even basically offered to replace the bags. I didn't give them details about my physical problems and probably should have done so. No doubt, someone will probably call me and ask me about the problem I have opening the bags and I can explain it then. It is nice to find a company that might actually listen to customer complaints.

They say every cloud has a silver lining but this one is a bit tarnished. The sad truth is, I don't go through five boxes of these bags in a year. Seriously, I use containers to store things in the fridge or freezer. The bags are for the kind of thing I mentioned above. So, I'll probably give away some of the coupons and inflict the same frustration on friends or family.  I'll probably give them the link to the "Contact Us" page.

Battle of Wits

Today I embraced my seniority.

You mean you admitted you're old? 

What? NO! OK. Yes, I did. I called SWIRCA to get information about their exercise programs. I heard they had them and well...

You also admitted you're fat?

NO! Now, wait a minute. Sheesh, I really need to find someone to talk to besides myself.

Oh, I think you're doing fine. Honesty is good for the soul. Keep going. I'm listening. 

I can't talk to you. You're insulting. I'm trying to make a point here and you're twisting my words.

Remember, I'm the logical side of your brain. 

Yes, but I'm right brained.

Meaningless.

I also wrote 771 words today. 

Oh, so you got off your fat butt and walked over to the computer. Great start on that exercise program. What story was it?

....

That's not really steam coming out your ears, you know. 

Shows how good my imagination is. 

Story?

It doesn't have a name. It is one that was lying around in my files. 

Wasting away, unlike some people we know. So, a "new" story. While the others lie unfinished and hopelessly confused. You've left Simon with a dead agent. You've left Alexandra with a nearly dead boyfriend. You left Beth and her two children homeless with a suitcase of stolen money. You've left Marley sitting in the woods.

No! Marley has been rescued.

Oh yeah, right! And her attacker is on his way to kill her so she can't tell on him. That's an improvement. Never mind the gaping hole right in the middle of the darn thing! Oh, and let me see... You have another dead guy in the church basement floating in two feet of water. How'm I doing?

Great. Just great.

You know, you really shouldn't grind your teeth like that. You'll need dentures.

Are you going soft on me? No comment on all the dental work?

Well, no one would have known if you hadn't mentioned it.

I'm leaving now. 

So, where are you going?

To bed. It's late and 5 a.m. comes early.

I'm not sleepy. 

That figures. There is a puzzle book on the Kindle. That'll put you down.

I'll be here in the morning. Waiting.

Flash Fiction on a Sunday Afternoon

I'm apparently in a reminiscing mood tonight. Ran across this tiny gem and tried to get my head around the fact that I actually wrote this!

Written 06/11/2006 3:13 pm

It was a smokey room with no windows and it smelt of stale beer and cheap cigarettes. The one bonus was that it was 30 degrees cooler than the night-shrouded parking lot she had just left and probably a thousand degrees cooler than her flaming Chevy a hundred yards down the road.

The ancient jukebox in the back was playing an equally ancient song that she recognized. It had been on the hit parade when she was 10 and going through her country music phase. The voice was as smokey as the room... what was that guy's name? She remembered she had loved his music but it was long forgotten now.

"What can I get ya, Babe?"

Now there was a line to get a girl's attention. From the cave-like booth where he crouched, he squinted glazed eyes at her through a cloud of smoke that boiled from his mouth, probably from the stygian depths of his soul. Between slack, wet lips she saw a flash of sparkling white teeth just before he stoked the fire again. Oh yeah, he was hot, all right, just smokin'.

"A phone book and phone would be great." She directed her attention toward where she hoped the bartender was in residence. Den was an appropriate term if this guy was any example. She had a sinking feeling that the night might not get better.

"Hey, Babe, I'll give you my number, you ain't gotta look it up."

She looked back and found that her imagination was taking over and Jaba the Hutt was leering at her. Great, just what she needed. She could only hope he was as hampered walking as the original Hutt had been because she was no Princess Leia and there was not going to be a Luke Skywalker or Han Solo appear to rescue her.

She moved toward the end of the bar, suppressing a grin. She wouldn't mind Han Solo rushing in and grabbing her up. Of course, it was Skywalker who always did the dashing moves, levitating while brandishing a sword at the bad guy with a girl on his other arm. No, Solo was just handing out the grins, hugs, and kisses in dark corners of the Falcon. She sighed. There weren't going to be any heroes in this tale. She just had a bad feeling about it.

"Excuse me," she said as the bartender moved her way, "do you have a phone book. My car just blew up and I need a tow."

His eyes widened and his mouth formed an O before he replied, "Honey, you won't get a tow tonight, not around here. You are 75 miles from a real town and the only garage we have locally is run by that slug you passed on the way in. And he is in no shape to drive anyone anywhere unless it is to hell."

She turned back to stare at the Hutt. He grinned a whiskey grin and wiggled his fingers at her. Oh God, the night was not going well at all. What little space she had acquired between her and trouble just went up in smoke.

Monologue

I'm a writer. I AM a writer. I am a WRITER! I AM A WRITER!

Yeah, you just keep saying that. You wrote like 400 words this week. Oh, and today's only Tuesday. Good job.

Shut up.

Hey, don't blame me for your shortcomings. I didn't decide to be a writer.

Does one really decide to be a writer? I mean, I don't have any actual memory of waking up one day and saying, "OH! I think I'll be a writer!"

Are you supposed to use so many exclamation points? Cause I don't think so.

Stop!

No, really. I'm pretty sure there is a limit.

I thought you said you weren't the writer?

I'm not. I'm the logical side, remember? Math is my strong suit. I can count.

Don't make me laugh. Math is your nemesis. You hate math.

Not really. You hate math. If I had my way I'd be good at it. 

You can't even answer a simple, logical question. So, does one decide to be a writer?

Do you mean are writers made or born?

Whatever.

I don't know. You are aware that we're not actually two people, right?

I'm not an idiot.

Good! That means I'm not either. Don't you know the answer?

I think they just are. I think writing, for some of us, is innate and I think something happens; we write something that flips a switch. From that point on, we just know we're writers.

So, I have a question. 

You do? Oh... sorry. What question?

Don't writers write?

Shut up.

Happy Birthday

Jerry & Cynthia Maddox
Frankfurt, W. Germany, Fall 1977

Today would have been Jerry's 69th birthday. He's been gone nearly 10 years. I wish I could say that life had returned to normal but it hasn't. It can't ever be normal because everything that was important is gone.

This photo was taken in 1977, in Frankfurt, West Germany. We were so young and so happy! My God, I loved him so much. We had some terrible rough spots over the 35 years we spent together but oh, so many wonderful times. I remember this moment so clearly. It was a photo booth near the train station in downtown Frankfurt. We hadn't been in country long. It was at night and we were on our way back to our apartment in Offenbach.

December 2004

I don't think about the good times often because they are very painful to remember. I don't know why people think it is nice to "remember the good times". It is like ripping open an old wound to poke a stick in it and dig around. It doesn't make me happy.

Happy birthday, Jerry. I love you so much it hurts.