It's done. Over. Never to be seen again. The summer of 2013 is history, folks. That was fast.
How can I so confidently make this ominous prediction? Well, let me tell you.
The first hint that all is not well in our world is the color in our previously bright green woods. As pretty as the orange, red and yellow leaves are, I kind of prefer to see green when I look out the window.
Talk about trees, our second hint that the glory days of summer are behind us is the scraps of toilet paper still hanging from the upper branches of trees, reminders that teenagers can throw a roll of toilet paper much higher than they can reach when it's time to take it back down, I personally believe their throwing arms are much stronger during the week of homecoming than any other week of the year. As an additional reminder, for an entire week, I couldn't manage to keep a roll of toilet paper in my bathroom.
My back entryway looks like a farmers market. There are bushel baskets of carrots, potatoes, onions & leeks piled up on the porch, accented by a cabbage as big as my head. I'm not quite sure yet where I'm going to put them. Our 160 year old farm house is in a perpetual state of construction and as the changes occur, I have to figure out how to utilize the space currently available to me. The big project this summer was digging a root cellar in the crawlspace under my living room. For weeks I had random teen-aged boys hauling dirt out of my basement, one 5 gallon bucket at a time until we finally had a 8x10 foot hole where a ton of dirt used to be. We still don't have shelves or storage bins in my new cellar yet, though, so I'm hesitant to start putting stuff in there. You know how that goes, as soon as you start using an unfinished space, it remains unfinished forever. So, I've got produce in my entryway.
If all those things aren't a slap upside the head that fall has arrived, the furnace kicking in with disturbing regularity is the final nail in summer's coffin. I hate turning the furnace on in the fall, it's like I'm admitting defeat. But I'm also not one of those people who take pride in seeing how long they can wait before hitting the thermostat while sitting in their living room watching Dancing With the Stars while bundled up in a parka and mittens.
All we can do is put on a happy face, refer to the plummeting temperatures as crisp, (because that sounds nicer than stinking cold) and gush about how much we love the changing of the seasons to excuse the fact that we're living in a place where the temperatures frequently drop below freezing for weeks at a time instead of in Florida where anyone in their right mind would be during winter. In the meantime, I'm heading off to buy some cold medicine because as an additional kick in the teeth, I've got my first cold of winter.
Showing posts with label Delia DeLeest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Delia DeLeest. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Back to School by Delia
Today is the first day of school and for the first time in forever, this means more to me than the return of peace and quiet at my house. It's time for me to go back to work. Last winter, about halfway through the school year, I was hired by our district to do administration work for our school lunch program. I only work on days when we're feeding kids, so the last day of school was my last day of work and the first day of school means back to the daily grind for me as well.
I say I do admin work, my husband refers to it as my "torturing children" job. See, I've got the attitude that if you're going to do a job, you might as well have fun with it. I've told kids that we've implemented a new school rule that if they owe lunch money, they have to eat lunch sitting on the floor under the tables. I say this with a smile to the little kids, but love delivering that line with a dead serious face to the older kids, just to see their reactions. As school was winding down last spring, I told the kids that the last day of school was going to be "Sing-along Thursday" and instead of telling me their student number for me to enter into the system, they were going to have to sing it to me. I heard a wide variety of musical styles that day, including numbers being rapped, an opera version and one kid even sang his to the tune of Smoke on the Water - you've gotta love a kid who gives the proper respect to Deep Purple. I've got a whole bunch of new torture ideas in mind for the coming school year as well as making the lunch menu a little more fun - we're having spARGHetti on International Talk Like a Pirate Day with a side of Walk-the-Plank garlic bread and I'm really looking forward to lunch on Halloween.
Life is too short to not take advantage of fun opportunities when they come your way. If an opportunity comes your way that doesn't seem very enjoyable - you've got to make it fun - otherwise, what's the point in getting up in the morning?
I say I do admin work, my husband refers to it as my "torturing children" job. See, I've got the attitude that if you're going to do a job, you might as well have fun with it. I've told kids that we've implemented a new school rule that if they owe lunch money, they have to eat lunch sitting on the floor under the tables. I say this with a smile to the little kids, but love delivering that line with a dead serious face to the older kids, just to see their reactions. As school was winding down last spring, I told the kids that the last day of school was going to be "Sing-along Thursday" and instead of telling me their student number for me to enter into the system, they were going to have to sing it to me. I heard a wide variety of musical styles that day, including numbers being rapped, an opera version and one kid even sang his to the tune of Smoke on the Water - you've gotta love a kid who gives the proper respect to Deep Purple. I've got a whole bunch of new torture ideas in mind for the coming school year as well as making the lunch menu a little more fun - we're having spARGHetti on International Talk Like a Pirate Day with a side of Walk-the-Plank garlic bread and I'm really looking forward to lunch on Halloween.
Life is too short to not take advantage of fun opportunities when they come your way. If an opportunity comes your way that doesn't seem very enjoyable - you've got to make it fun - otherwise, what's the point in getting up in the morning?
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
All the babies home - Delia
For the first time in almost a year, all my kids are under the same roof...mine. It seems like only yesterday that the whole family gathered around the supper table was an every day occurrence, but now it takes great feats of skill and engineering to accomplish this seemingly simple goal, and it's only going to get worse.
Currently, I've got a son in the Marines, a daughter living in Texas and two kids at home, but kid #3 is going to be a senior this year and is planning on following in his big brother's footsteps when he graduates, so he'll be off before you know it as well. I shouldn't be surprised, my family does a lot of globe trotting. At one point, about a year and a half ago, my husband was in Hawaii, a daughter was in Uruguay and my son in Afghanistan, there were only 3 of us on the same continent! This whole thing in even more remarkable when you consider that I'm a major hermit - my kids' traveling ways obviously come from their father.
So, for a couple days anyway, I've got all my kids home. I don't know when this is going to happen again since my oldest is heading out for deployment again next month, but I'm going to enjoy it while I can. And, to commemorate the occasion, tonight we're going to have the first professional family portrait taken of us in about 10 years, I think we're due.
Currently, I've got a son in the Marines, a daughter living in Texas and two kids at home, but kid #3 is going to be a senior this year and is planning on following in his big brother's footsteps when he graduates, so he'll be off before you know it as well. I shouldn't be surprised, my family does a lot of globe trotting. At one point, about a year and a half ago, my husband was in Hawaii, a daughter was in Uruguay and my son in Afghanistan, there were only 3 of us on the same continent! This whole thing in even more remarkable when you consider that I'm a major hermit - my kids' traveling ways obviously come from their father.
So, for a couple days anyway, I've got all my kids home. I don't know when this is going to happen again since my oldest is heading out for deployment again next month, but I'm going to enjoy it while I can. And, to commemorate the occasion, tonight we're going to have the first professional family portrait taken of us in about 10 years, I think we're due.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
End of the school year wrap-up by Delia
Oh, the chaos that ensues at the end of the school year! I work with the food program at our local school so I'm trying to get all those end of the year government reports filed while I still can. It's kind of like filing lunch lady taxes, only instead of money, I'm counting chicken nuggets and tater tots. It's exhausting, people.
Both of my still-at-home kids are in track, though one in high school the other at middle school, so I've been averaging 3 track meets per week for the last month and a half. Usually I don't mind being a track mom, but the weather this spring has certainly dampened my enthusiasm for the 400 meter relay and the shot put. But now that that's all over, my evenings are starting to be mine at last. At least they will after this week, when I'm done with 8th grade graduation, spring sports award ceremony and a retirement party for the outgoing elementary school principal and our wonderful superintendent. Though I do have my evenings, I still don't have a vehicle since my son keeps using it to go to one of the gazillion graduation parties he's been invited to. Next year he graduates and the spring craziness will ramp up a few levels.
Now that the spring stuff is almost over, we move on to the nutziness of summer. I've got kids spending the week at friend's cabins, one is doing FFA camp, the Midwestern Rodeo is a must-do event on my family's agenda, though in my opinion, if you've seen one guy get thrown from a horse, you've seen them all. Unfortunately, my husband and kids don't feel the same way. But, in an upside to that, my two out-of-state kids are both going to be home for the rodeo and I'll have all four of my babies under my roof at the same time in about a year and who knows when it'll happen again. In honor of that, I've scheduled photo time with a real live photographer so we'll get those family pictures taken that I've been threatening to get taken for years now.
I like to think things will settle down eventually, and I'm sure it'll happen, just not in the near future. Next year I'll have two kids in high school, which is not conducive to calm and quiet. But, before I know it, all my babies will be out the door and it'll just be hubs and me. Things will be quiet, probably too quiet, and I'll look back on these crazy days and smile.
Both of my still-at-home kids are in track, though one in high school the other at middle school, so I've been averaging 3 track meets per week for the last month and a half. Usually I don't mind being a track mom, but the weather this spring has certainly dampened my enthusiasm for the 400 meter relay and the shot put. But now that that's all over, my evenings are starting to be mine at last. At least they will after this week, when I'm done with 8th grade graduation, spring sports award ceremony and a retirement party for the outgoing elementary school principal and our wonderful superintendent. Though I do have my evenings, I still don't have a vehicle since my son keeps using it to go to one of the gazillion graduation parties he's been invited to. Next year he graduates and the spring craziness will ramp up a few levels.
Now that the spring stuff is almost over, we move on to the nutziness of summer. I've got kids spending the week at friend's cabins, one is doing FFA camp, the Midwestern Rodeo is a must-do event on my family's agenda, though in my opinion, if you've seen one guy get thrown from a horse, you've seen them all. Unfortunately, my husband and kids don't feel the same way. But, in an upside to that, my two out-of-state kids are both going to be home for the rodeo and I'll have all four of my babies under my roof at the same time in about a year and who knows when it'll happen again. In honor of that, I've scheduled photo time with a real live photographer so we'll get those family pictures taken that I've been threatening to get taken for years now.
I like to think things will settle down eventually, and I'm sure it'll happen, just not in the near future. Next year I'll have two kids in high school, which is not conducive to calm and quiet. But, before I know it, all my babies will be out the door and it'll just be hubs and me. Things will be quiet, probably too quiet, and I'll look back on these crazy days and smile.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
What person do you prefer by Delia
I love reading and writing in first person point of view. In case you get POV's mixed up, first person uses a narrators point of view and the words "I" and "me" are used, making a story sound autobiographical. It tends to look something like this:
"Wait, just a gol durned minute," I hollered. I ran after Cletus, catching him in a flying tackle and getting a mouthful of dirt in the process. I blinked the red Georgia dirt out of my eyes and got a grip on his forearm, twisting it behind his back. A warm glow built in my heart when I heard his grunt of pain.
I like to pretend I'm the character I'm reading about and when something's written in first person, it's much easier to do this, even more so when I'm writing. My book, Not Looking For Trouble is written in first person, and when I was writing it, I WAS Susan Kent. It was much easier for me to feel what she was feeling when I referred to her as "I" and "me". Susan and I are Siamese twins.
Second person point of view isn't very commonly used. In second person POV, you hear words like "you", "your" and "yours". I've never written anything in it and I'm willing to bet most other writers haven't either. Offhand, the only thing I can think of that uses second person POV are choose your own adventure books. Second person sounds like this:
The doorknob is hot in your hand, telling you instantly that the fire has indeed spread to the second floor. Your heart is pounding in your chest, you have to make a quick decision. Do you open the door and risk burning to death? Or, do you follow the advice of Sparky the fire dog and look for an alternate route? The problem was, Sparky never told you what to do when you were stuck in a closet.
Last, but the complete opposite of least, is third person. Most fiction books you read are in third person point of view. You hear the words "he", "she" and "it" a lot in third person. An uninvolved, unspecified narator is telling a story to the reader, either subjectively or omnisciently. A subjective narrative means that the narrator only can see and describe things from one characters point of view, they can only tell you of one persons experiences, pain and happiness. Omniscient means that the narrator can jump into many different characters heads, they can tell you how multiple characters are feeling and reacting at different points in the story.
Both of my books, It Takes Moxie and Eye of the Beholder are told in subjective third person. Once again, I find it easier to stay in one characters head, preferring the mystery of other people's feelings to knowing everything. Third person sounds like this:
"Wouldn't you know it," Iggie complained, "as soon as I find a decent-looking outfit for the wedding, I get attacked by a werewolf and it gets all bloody."
How about you? What point of view do you prefer to read?
"Wait, just a gol durned minute," I hollered. I ran after Cletus, catching him in a flying tackle and getting a mouthful of dirt in the process. I blinked the red Georgia dirt out of my eyes and got a grip on his forearm, twisting it behind his back. A warm glow built in my heart when I heard his grunt of pain.
I like to pretend I'm the character I'm reading about and when something's written in first person, it's much easier to do this, even more so when I'm writing. My book, Not Looking For Trouble is written in first person, and when I was writing it, I WAS Susan Kent. It was much easier for me to feel what she was feeling when I referred to her as "I" and "me". Susan and I are Siamese twins.
Second person point of view isn't very commonly used. In second person POV, you hear words like "you", "your" and "yours". I've never written anything in it and I'm willing to bet most other writers haven't either. Offhand, the only thing I can think of that uses second person POV are choose your own adventure books. Second person sounds like this:
The doorknob is hot in your hand, telling you instantly that the fire has indeed spread to the second floor. Your heart is pounding in your chest, you have to make a quick decision. Do you open the door and risk burning to death? Or, do you follow the advice of Sparky the fire dog and look for an alternate route? The problem was, Sparky never told you what to do when you were stuck in a closet.
Last, but the complete opposite of least, is third person. Most fiction books you read are in third person point of view. You hear the words "he", "she" and "it" a lot in third person. An uninvolved, unspecified narator is telling a story to the reader, either subjectively or omnisciently. A subjective narrative means that the narrator only can see and describe things from one characters point of view, they can only tell you of one persons experiences, pain and happiness. Omniscient means that the narrator can jump into many different characters heads, they can tell you how multiple characters are feeling and reacting at different points in the story.
Both of my books, It Takes Moxie and Eye of the Beholder are told in subjective third person. Once again, I find it easier to stay in one characters head, preferring the mystery of other people's feelings to knowing everything. Third person sounds like this:
"Wouldn't you know it," Iggie complained, "as soon as I find a decent-looking outfit for the wedding, I get attacked by a werewolf and it gets all bloody."
How about you? What point of view do you prefer to read?
Friday, March 22, 2013
Etiquette & Espionage - a book review by Delia
I have discovered an author who I just may love. I read Gail Carriger's Etiquette & Espionage and loved it.
Steampunk meets Harry Potter with just a dash of Dr. Horrible makes Etiquette & Espionage a can't put down young adult book. Young Sophronia Temminnick has been the bane of her mother's existence for years, and when her mother's friend, Mrs. Barnaclegoose, suggests she send Sophronia to Mademoiselle Geraldine's Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality, she jumps at the chance to send her troublesome daughter off. Once here, Sophronia discovers that the definition of "Finishing" is certainly subject to interpretation and discovers a whole world out there from the one she'd previously been confined to.
With wonderful new words like 'mechanimal' and 'flywaymen' Ms.Carriger's book was a joy from start to finish. I especially love Bunson's, the school for evil geniuses (how can you not love an evil genius school?) though Sophronia's inept friend, Pillover has only made the rank of discourteous genius with hopes of one day rising to spiteful genius. I love the world created in this book, which is happily, the very first of a series and I have great expectations for the books to come.
I've also discovered that the Finishing School series is a prequel of sorts to Gail Carriger's Parasol Protectorate series, all of which are going to be added to my to-be-read pile as soon as possible.
Steampunk meets Harry Potter with just a dash of Dr. Horrible makes Etiquette & Espionage a can't put down young adult book. Young Sophronia Temminnick has been the bane of her mother's existence for years, and when her mother's friend, Mrs. Barnaclegoose, suggests she send Sophronia to Mademoiselle Geraldine's Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality, she jumps at the chance to send her troublesome daughter off. Once here, Sophronia discovers that the definition of "Finishing" is certainly subject to interpretation and discovers a whole world out there from the one she'd previously been confined to.
With wonderful new words like 'mechanimal' and 'flywaymen' Ms.Carriger's book was a joy from start to finish. I especially love Bunson's, the school for evil geniuses (how can you not love an evil genius school?) though Sophronia's inept friend, Pillover has only made the rank of discourteous genius with hopes of one day rising to spiteful genius. I love the world created in this book, which is happily, the very first of a series and I have great expectations for the books to come.
I've also discovered that the Finishing School series is a prequel of sorts to Gail Carriger's Parasol Protectorate series, all of which are going to be added to my to-be-read pile as soon as possible.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
tear jerking - Delia
A group of writer buddies (notice I didn't say novel friends) who shall remain nameless got together this weekend and spent a lot of time talking. I won't write about that get together, because someone claims she called dibs on that subject. So, instead, I'll expand on a topic brought up during that get together of people-who-we-don't-know's conversation.
What is your crying threshold? What is that little thing in a movie that'll set your waterworks going? I'm not a big crier and tend to be a bit cold-hearted. There's not a lot that sets me off, mostly because I tend to avoid things I know will trigger the tear ducts. A movie starring a dog? Forget it, I KNOW that pooch isn't going to live to see the end credits. Anything by Nicholas Sparks? Nope, not gonna go there. I refuse to watch a movie knowing I'm going to come out of it depressed. I've never seen Titanic. I KNOW the boat is going to sink, why put myself through that? But, every once in awhile, something sneaks up on me and my eyes go all juicy. Man, I hate when that happens.
It's not the normal things that'll do it to me either, someone dying, a love story gone bad, you know, that kind of thing. It's worse. Those rah-rah 1940's war support movies tend to touch me off. The love of country, the patriotism, the thought of those boys going off to experience hell on earth, maybe to never return home. It chokes me up all the time - which may also explain why I tend to get teary-eyed at the beginning of parades when the VFW guys come marching by with the flags. It's not the serious drama either, I got all choked up during a Betty Grable musical once. I cry during Casablanca, not when Rick and Ilsa say goodbye like normal people do, but when the crowd sings the French National Anthem at Rick's Place.
But, my Achilles heal, the thing that gets me every time, all I have to do is try to tell someone about it and I start crying, comes from a very unexpected place. It's the very last 2 minutes of the pilot episode of the sit-com Raising Hope. If you're not familiar with the show, it's about a young man, Jimmy, who unexpectedly has fatherhood thrust upon him. Jimmy's parents were teens themselves when he was born and just sort of bumbled their way through parenthood. Anyway, in the scene, Jimmy is trying to get his new baby to sleep and she keeps crying. Finally his parents come in and say they'll do for her what they always did to stop him from crying as a baby. The father takes out his guitar and he and the mother sing Danny's Song (even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with you honey) to quiet the baby. Then it flashes back to the parents as teens singing for their own baby son. (shoot, I'm starting to tear up again!) Whenever I think of it, I imagine the two scared teenagers, just trying to do the best they can in the situation they're in, nothing but hope and love keeping it all together and I just get all mushy and have to go looking for a Kleenex.
So yeah, now you know what sets me off. How about you? Do you have something that'll get ya every time?
What is your crying threshold? What is that little thing in a movie that'll set your waterworks going? I'm not a big crier and tend to be a bit cold-hearted. There's not a lot that sets me off, mostly because I tend to avoid things I know will trigger the tear ducts. A movie starring a dog? Forget it, I KNOW that pooch isn't going to live to see the end credits. Anything by Nicholas Sparks? Nope, not gonna go there. I refuse to watch a movie knowing I'm going to come out of it depressed. I've never seen Titanic. I KNOW the boat is going to sink, why put myself through that? But, every once in awhile, something sneaks up on me and my eyes go all juicy. Man, I hate when that happens.
It's not the normal things that'll do it to me either, someone dying, a love story gone bad, you know, that kind of thing. It's worse. Those rah-rah 1940's war support movies tend to touch me off. The love of country, the patriotism, the thought of those boys going off to experience hell on earth, maybe to never return home. It chokes me up all the time - which may also explain why I tend to get teary-eyed at the beginning of parades when the VFW guys come marching by with the flags. It's not the serious drama either, I got all choked up during a Betty Grable musical once. I cry during Casablanca, not when Rick and Ilsa say goodbye like normal people do, but when the crowd sings the French National Anthem at Rick's Place.
But, my Achilles heal, the thing that gets me every time, all I have to do is try to tell someone about it and I start crying, comes from a very unexpected place. It's the very last 2 minutes of the pilot episode of the sit-com Raising Hope. If you're not familiar with the show, it's about a young man, Jimmy, who unexpectedly has fatherhood thrust upon him. Jimmy's parents were teens themselves when he was born and just sort of bumbled their way through parenthood. Anyway, in the scene, Jimmy is trying to get his new baby to sleep and she keeps crying. Finally his parents come in and say they'll do for her what they always did to stop him from crying as a baby. The father takes out his guitar and he and the mother sing Danny's Song (even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with you honey) to quiet the baby. Then it flashes back to the parents as teens singing for their own baby son. (shoot, I'm starting to tear up again!) Whenever I think of it, I imagine the two scared teenagers, just trying to do the best they can in the situation they're in, nothing but hope and love keeping it all together and I just get all mushy and have to go looking for a Kleenex.
So yeah, now you know what sets me off. How about you? Do you have something that'll get ya every time?
Friday, February 22, 2013
Romancing the West Blog Hop
Why do we enjoy writing and reading about the West? What is
it about cowboys that is just plain irresistible? Over thirty authors and
bloggers tackle these and other questions by explaining why we love Romancing
the West.
But
that’s not all, as you enjoy some awesome blogs and find fantastic books, for
every post you comment on with your email address, you will be entered for some
amazing prizes.
***PLEASE LEAVE YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS TO QUALIFY***
Grand Prize: A
swag pack which includes books (both ebooks and paper), Amazon gift card,
custom made butterfly jewelry, book cards, magnets and much more all tucked
away in a keepsake box. (Available to US residents only. Winner will be
announced on February 26 at 10 PM EST)
We at NovelFriends are giving away a
*$20 Texas Roadhouse Gift Card!
*$20 Texas Roadhouse Gift Card!
Why do we love Romancing the West?
Donna: I fell in love with the west thanks to NYT bestselling author Linda
Howard. While filling my basket at the local used book store, I came across a
copy of A Lady of the West
by Linda Howard. I did and BAM! I was in love. Not only with this amazing
author (who is still one of my favorites!), but with the beautiful western
states: Texas, Wyoming, Montana…Colorado. My love of Colorado deepened thanks
to my NovelFriend, Stacey, And I was compelled to set my own story against the
backdrop of those majestic Rocky Mountains.
Jamie: It’s hard to resist loving a cowboy. A man who is
strong, hard working and has a love of the land. A guy who stays in shape by doing
his job everyday, not because he spent hours in a gym. I’ve spent many hours
admiring the cowboy heroes of Diana Palmer and Linda Lael Miller. How can you
not love a man who is rough, tough, protective and true all in one very fine
package?
 |
Delia:What isn’t to love about cowboys? I grew up
wanting to be the Cartwright brother’s little sister, it didn’t take long for
that fantasy to evolve along less familial fantasies. These are men who spend their lives
both working with and fighting against the elements, using their strength and
wits to not only stay alive, but to make a living while doing it. The fact that
it’s done with a gun strapped to their hip and their butt looking all snug in a
saddle just ramps the sexiness up a few levels (yeah, I’m talking about you,
Little Joe).
Stacey: I love horses, and I love good-looking, hard-working men in jeans and flannel or a button-up cotton work shirts. Putting the two together is a win-win no-brainer for me. Rolled up sleeves that reveal tanned, muscled forearms is sexier than a guy standing buck-naked—though I’d probably look either way. *grin* In my contemporary western Chasin’ Mason, Tripp is modeled after my all-time favorite cowboy picture: Matthew McConaughey in his Stetson Cologne ad.
* * * * *
So there you have it from the NovelFriends! To enter for our prize of the $20 Texas Roadhouse Gift Card, just use the Rafflecopter below.
ALSO, to enter for the Grand Prize SWAG PACK of the Romancing the West Blog Hop
, you must include your EMAIL address leave acomment along with your EMAIL address.
** To be entered in our raffle, simply tell us who's your favorite cowboy, or what's your favorite western romance novel...or both!
Best of luck from the NovelFriends!
(* If there is no Texas Roadhouse restaurant near you, we will substitute a $20 Gift Card of winner's choice)
Romancing the West Blog Hop
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Elvis Week
Each of us take a Tuesday of the month to post here, but
since we've got 5 Tuesdays this month and there are only 4 of us, we needed to
come up with something to do for today.
So, for your (and our) entertainment, we came up with a writing prompt
and each of us ran off to play with it.
Our prompt? An Elvis Song And here are our results:
Jamie
Are You Lonesome
Tonight?
Kate Monroe sat at a small table in the noisy bar. What had
possessed her to move to a small town where the height of Saturday night
entertainment was an Elvis themed bar? Ale House Rock, seriously?
Not that the
town she moved from had been much bigger, but it was closer to a city that
offered at least a few options for having fun. Her coworker, Aubrey, had gone
to the restroom a while ago, but had been stopped several times on her way back
to their table. Kate tried to keep her focus on her drink instead of on the
curious glances she felt directed her way.
The lights dimmed and a bright spotlight lit up the small
stage next to her table. The sequined red curtains parted and a hottie dressed
like Elvis in his younger years stepped forward.
“Welcome to Ale House Rock! Who’s ready for some singin’ and
some dancin’?” As the rest of the bar broke into cheers, his deep, rough drawl
slid through the speakers and wrapped around and let loose goose bumps on her
arms.
Before she had a chance to catch her breath, he gyrated his
hips, fake-strummed his guitar and belted out the opening lyrics of “Blue Suede
Shoes”.
Ho-ly heaven!
Stacey
There is no such things as ghosts. You’re hallucinating.
That’s what the rational side of my brain told me as I stood
there, right outside the revered gates, and he walked toward
me. But I hadn’t had anything to drink stronger than a mocha latte. I certainly
hadn’t smoked anything.
I raised my hand to my forehead. No fever.
Did people just have random hallucinations?
I was reminded of that song as I lowered my arm. You know,
the one Marc Cohn sings. The one Little Big Town remade with Sugarland—Walking
In Memphis.
His head turned toward me as he moved past. Our eyes met. He
smiled with the signature curl to his lip, and then he winked.
Wow, what a hallucination! My heart skipped before beating
triple time, leaving me breathless. I suddenly understood the swooning effect.
I watched him pass through the gates and disappear into the
house as my friend bounded up to me with our tickets.
“I still can’t believe we’re here. I’m telling you,
Graceland is definitely going to be the highlight of my trip!”
Still speechless from a moment ago, all I could do was nod
in agreement.
Donna
Blue Hawaii.
Tamara’s chest tightened as she pulled the old VHS tape from
the video cabinet in her parents’ living room. A lifelong Elvis Presley fan,
her mom had been collecting Elvis paraphernalia since she was a teenager. She owned
a vast collection of records, paintings, figurines, belts, key chains, coffee
mugs, magnets, purses, a lunch box, several ornaments, a couple of clocks,
dozens of T-shirts…and that was just what Tamara could recall off the top of
her head.
Her mother also owned all thirty three of his movies—which included
two documentaries—on either VHS or DVD. Some both. And though they’d seen every
one of them many times over, Blue Hawaii
had always been her mom’s favorite.
Her parents spent their honeymoon on the Big Island many
years ago, so Hawaii had always held a special place in both of their hearts.
"Two glorious weeks in paradise," her father would tease with a wink
at her mother, who never failed to turn three shades of pink.
After her father passed, her mom often talked about heading
back to beautiful Anaeho’omalu Bay to spread his ashes over the crystal blue
waters of the Pacific Ocean.
Now that day would never come.
Slipping the movie from its cardboard sleeve, Tamara found
herself holding her breath. She’d watched Blue Hawaii with her mother so many
times she could recite the movie word for word. Because, frankly, it had been a
favorite of hers as well, though she’d have cut out her tongue before ever
admitting it. Part of the fun had been rolling her eyes and groaning whenever
her mother declared it Elvis night. She’d make fried peanut butter and banana
sandwiches—which, surprisingly, weren’t too bad—and they’d wash them down with ice-cold
Pepsi. The King’s favorite beverage.
Unable to resist, Tamara popped the black tape into the old
VCR. A strange feeling washed over her when the title song started to play, and
Elvis’s deep, hypnotic voice filled every corner of the room.
She closed her
eyes and sang softly along…
“…Night and you and
Blue Ha-waaaaiiii. The night is heav-enly, and you are heav-en to me…”
Tears blurred her vision before spilling down her cheeks.
She gave her head a frustrated shake and swiped them away. She hadn’t seen the
movie in several years, yet when she closed her eyes—
A sudden, comforting presence settled in beside her.
Tamara’s eyes shot open as her heart warmed with inner peace. Whether in life
or beyond, it seemed, her mother simply couldn’t resist Blue Hawaii.
Delia
“Are You Lonesome Tonight?”
“You Hound Dog!
I told you to never call me again!”
“I can’t help it, I’m Stuck on You.”
“That’s not my fault, I just want you to leave me alone.”
“Come on, Baby, Don’t Be Cruel. I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You, you’re my Good Luck Charm and I
Just Can’t Help Believing that you Love Me Tender as much as I do
you.”
“I filed a restraining order against you, if you come
anywhere near me, you’ll be doing The Jailhouse Rock. “
“A restraining order??
Is that why all my Love Letters came back marked Return to
Sender? You’re a Hard Headed
Woman.”
“No, I just don’t want to spend another night in Heartbreak
Hotel. You got me All Shook Up
and then left me. What was I supposed to
do?”
“I’m sorry, I guess we both had Suspicious Minds and
ruined what we had. Do you think you
could ever let bygones be bygones and give us a second chance? “
“Well, I suppose It’s Now or Never. Come on over, and Let Me Be Your Teddy
Bear…and make sure you’re wearing your Blue Suede Shoes.”
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Betrayed by the Mayans - Delia DeLeest
Don't you hate it when you put your faith in someone and they let you down? This happened to me a week and a half ago and I don't know if I'll ever recover. December 21st was supposed to be the end of the world. Heck, people had been talking about it for years, it was practically a given, so, I lived accordingly. The Bible says "eat, drink and be merry" and if you can't take advice from the Bible, who can you take it from? For the last year (okay, it possibly has been more than a year), I ate deep fried cookie dough at the fair, avoided exercise like the plague, didn't change the oil in my mini-van and scraped lead paint off my woodwork without wearing a mask. After all, what was the point of being all safety dance with my life when everything was going to be over before the end of 2012? I was going to meet the apocalypse with a smile on my face and cholesterol clogging my arteries.
Then, it happened...or didn't happen, however you want to look at it. The world didn't end, the mini-van is making strange noises, my thighs look like cottage cheese and I've got untold number of years to suffer the consequences of my year(s) of apocalypse abandon. Thanks a lot Mayans.
That brings us to today, New Years Day 2013, a day I was counting on never happening. Since the world doesn't appear to be ending any time soon, I'm going to have to do damage control in the form of a dreaded New Year's Resolution. This really sucks. I'm not going to announce my resolution, that would be on par with a government official e-mailing someone a reminder that their monthly bribery payment is due - there are times you don't want to leave a paper trail, people. Let's just say I resolve not to spend 2013 partying like it's 1999.
How about you? Do you have a resolution you don't mind sharing?
Have a Happy New Year - from The Novelfriends!
Then, it happened...or didn't happen, however you want to look at it. The world didn't end, the mini-van is making strange noises, my thighs look like cottage cheese and I've got untold number of years to suffer the consequences of my year(s) of apocalypse abandon. Thanks a lot Mayans.
That brings us to today, New Years Day 2013, a day I was counting on never happening. Since the world doesn't appear to be ending any time soon, I'm going to have to do damage control in the form of a dreaded New Year's Resolution. This really sucks. I'm not going to announce my resolution, that would be on par with a government official e-mailing someone a reminder that their monthly bribery payment is due - there are times you don't want to leave a paper trail, people. Let's just say I resolve not to spend 2013 partying like it's 1999.
How about you? Do you have a resolution you don't mind sharing?
Have a Happy New Year - from The Novelfriends!
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Don't Worry, Be Happy - Delia
A few years ago, I came to a realization, I had the power over who I let into my life and who wasn't allowed. If someone or something made me miserable, I had the ability to delete it/them out of my life. How empowering is that??
The times I've read Dear Abby recently, I'm always amazed at the people who are writing about struggles they have with others in their lives, parents who abused them (and still do), siblings who've cheated them and friends who've lied to them. Why haven't these people done the obvious (which is NOT write to Dear Abby)? I had a friend, a good friend,one I considered one of my best. Lately, things he's said have literally sucked the happy right out of me. These weren't things he said to me personally, just things said in general - things that made me wonder how he'd became my friend in the first place. My life is too short and too full of good things for me to waste time and life space for darkness, hatred and downright miserableness. So is yours. It's easy to Unlike someone from Facebook, everyone's done it, why not Unlike Happysucks right out of your life as well? Heck, I Unliked Facebook in general - I discovered the better I got to know a lot of people, the less I liked them. I figured I needed to get off Facebook before I started hating everybody. Yeah, if you haven't already guessed, I'm NOT a people person. :-)
Now is the time to start cleaning out your life like you would your hall closet. Get rid of the stuff, issues and people who drag you down and fill those empty life shelves with things that bring you up. On Saturday, I'll be celebrating the 22nd year of being married to my best friend. We're very different kind of people and people wonder how we ended up together and how we've stayed married for so long. It's simple - besides the obvious fact that I love him to pieces and he's got a great butt - he makes me laugh. How lucky can I be to be able to live forever with someone who makes me happy? Your life can't be happy if you're not happy with yourself - but it sure helps when you surround yourself with others who bring you peace and happiness. Go out and do it!!
Friday, November 23, 2012
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - a book review
First off, I hope you all had a wonderful and thankful Thanksgiving. Now, if you're like me, you're going to spend the rest of the weekend hiding out from rabid shoppers and enthusiastic deer hunters making one last play for the big buck. If you're looking for something to keep you occupied during your self-imposed exile, I've got a great suggestion.
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs is NOTHING like I was expecting. It's about a teen aged boy who, after the death of his grandfather, finds himself drawn to a remote island in Wales, to the place where his grandfather grew up. All Jacob's life, his grandfather told him amazing stories about the peculiar children he knew growing up - the invisible boy, the levitating girl, and about the monsters he fought. As he grew older, Jacob realized that these stories he'd believed so firmly in as a young child couldn't possibly be true. But, then he arrives at Cairnholm Island and discovers that not only may his grandfathers stories about his past be true, but maybe his past is still alive as well.
Expecting maybe a haunted house or a ghost story, I eagerly opened it up and found something completely different, utterly unexpected and incredibly delightful. Using real vintage photographs intertwined with a fictional story built from a fertile imagination, Ransom Riggs brings you on a fantastic adventure in a brand new world full of peculiar children, the people who protect them and the dangers they face.
Plainly put, this book was freaking awesome! I love the idea of creating a story around old photographs and wish I had thought of it. It's certainly got me interested in digging through old photos at yard sales and flea markets and filling in the blanks with my own crazy imagination. Bravo Mr. Riggs, bravo *insert slow clap here*
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs is NOTHING like I was expecting. It's about a teen aged boy who, after the death of his grandfather, finds himself drawn to a remote island in Wales, to the place where his grandfather grew up. All Jacob's life, his grandfather told him amazing stories about the peculiar children he knew growing up - the invisible boy, the levitating girl, and about the monsters he fought. As he grew older, Jacob realized that these stories he'd believed so firmly in as a young child couldn't possibly be true. But, then he arrives at Cairnholm Island and discovers that not only may his grandfathers stories about his past be true, but maybe his past is still alive as well.
Expecting maybe a haunted house or a ghost story, I eagerly opened it up and found something completely different, utterly unexpected and incredibly delightful. Using real vintage photographs intertwined with a fictional story built from a fertile imagination, Ransom Riggs brings you on a fantastic adventure in a brand new world full of peculiar children, the people who protect them and the dangers they face.
Plainly put, this book was freaking awesome! I love the idea of creating a story around old photographs and wish I had thought of it. It's certainly got me interested in digging through old photos at yard sales and flea markets and filling in the blanks with my own crazy imagination. Bravo Mr. Riggs, bravo *insert slow clap here*
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
A hermit goes on vacation
I'm one of those rare souls who hates to go on vacation. My theory is: my clothes are here, my favorite foods are here, my bed is here, why in the world would I want to be someplace else? Yep, I'm a hermit. There are very few instances I can think of where it would be preferable to be someplace beside my own cozy little house. A couple months ago, an instance came up.
A good friend invited me to go along with her to Washington DC to visit her daughter and son (and his family) who all live in the DC area. I'm not too interested in monuments and memorials, but my dream has always been to go to the Smithsonian Museums. She'd found some cheap flights, we had a free place to stay and, the topper, she wanted to spend all her time with her 6 month old grandson and her family are all busy people, this meant that I would be able to spend the day at the Smithsonian all by myself. The hermit in me did a little squee of excitement - I could go wherever I wanted to and take as much or as little time at each display as I desired with no one to feel responsible about. So, heck yeah, I WAS GOING!
Our first full day was spent driving through the Shenandoahs. Lots of trees, lots of mountains and valleys, yeah yeah, I can get nature at home, people, give me some good stuff! The next day - jackpot! A friend from the area offered to go with me to the city. She taught me how to use the Metro, gave me a map of the city and spent the day with me at the American History Museum. Since she'd seen it all before, she was fine just tagging along, letting me take my time and do my thing. We had a great time at the display of First Lady inaugural ball gowns, critiquing everyone's taste in clothes. Grace Coolidge is definitely the first lady with the coolest dresses. Of course, this may have something to do with her being First Lady during the 1920's, the greatest era of all time in my opinion, so there's a tad bit of favoritism going on.
The next day was my day on my own. I went to art galleries (if you're ever in DC, the Renwick is a must-see, it's just covered in awesome sauce), visited the various war memorials and such, and generally just wandered the streets taking everything in. This was definitely the highlight day of my vacation, especially since what happened next. Did I mention that I started this vacation 2 weeks ago?
Yep, the hermit finally leaves the house to see the sights and gets hit with a hurricane. What the heck is up with that? Fortunately, we were in an area that was barely affected by the storm, but the wind and rain prevented me from going back out on the town to continue getting my Smithsonian fixes. It also delayed our flight by a day. I've already learned about myself that if I do leave home, four days away is about my max before I start missing the old homefront, so I already knew this week long vacation was going to stress me out, but when I was forced to stay an additional day, I was going bonkers. I did everything but put on a cheesehead hat and dance the polka when we finally landed back in good ol' Wisconsin. Granted, this vacation was not as stressful as the one where my husband caught some sickness and thought he was going to die. We were in Grenada at the time - Grenada is a tiny little 3rd world island in the Carribean, in case you didn't know. I told him that if he died on me in a foreign country, I would never speak to him again - I guess that scared him healthy, because we got out of there alive, which is always a good thing. But, now that I've crossed "live through a hurricane" off my bucket list, I see no reason to ever do it again.
A good friend invited me to go along with her to Washington DC to visit her daughter and son (and his family) who all live in the DC area. I'm not too interested in monuments and memorials, but my dream has always been to go to the Smithsonian Museums. She'd found some cheap flights, we had a free place to stay and, the topper, she wanted to spend all her time with her 6 month old grandson and her family are all busy people, this meant that I would be able to spend the day at the Smithsonian all by myself. The hermit in me did a little squee of excitement - I could go wherever I wanted to and take as much or as little time at each display as I desired with no one to feel responsible about. So, heck yeah, I WAS GOING!
Our first full day was spent driving through the Shenandoahs. Lots of trees, lots of mountains and valleys, yeah yeah, I can get nature at home, people, give me some good stuff! The next day - jackpot! A friend from the area offered to go with me to the city. She taught me how to use the Metro, gave me a map of the city and spent the day with me at the American History Museum. Since she'd seen it all before, she was fine just tagging along, letting me take my time and do my thing. We had a great time at the display of First Lady inaugural ball gowns, critiquing everyone's taste in clothes. Grace Coolidge is definitely the first lady with the coolest dresses. Of course, this may have something to do with her being First Lady during the 1920's, the greatest era of all time in my opinion, so there's a tad bit of favoritism going on.
The next day was my day on my own. I went to art galleries (if you're ever in DC, the Renwick is a must-see, it's just covered in awesome sauce), visited the various war memorials and such, and generally just wandered the streets taking everything in. This was definitely the highlight day of my vacation, especially since what happened next. Did I mention that I started this vacation 2 weeks ago?
Yep, the hermit finally leaves the house to see the sights and gets hit with a hurricane. What the heck is up with that? Fortunately, we were in an area that was barely affected by the storm, but the wind and rain prevented me from going back out on the town to continue getting my Smithsonian fixes. It also delayed our flight by a day. I've already learned about myself that if I do leave home, four days away is about my max before I start missing the old homefront, so I already knew this week long vacation was going to stress me out, but when I was forced to stay an additional day, I was going bonkers. I did everything but put on a cheesehead hat and dance the polka when we finally landed back in good ol' Wisconsin. Granted, this vacation was not as stressful as the one where my husband caught some sickness and thought he was going to die. We were in Grenada at the time - Grenada is a tiny little 3rd world island in the Carribean, in case you didn't know. I told him that if he died on me in a foreign country, I would never speak to him again - I guess that scared him healthy, because we got out of there alive, which is always a good thing. But, now that I've crossed "live through a hurricane" off my bucket list, I see no reason to ever do it again.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Tales From the Mist - a book review
First off, let me make a confession, I don't usually read short stories or E-books. The E-book thing is purely a matter of preference, I don't have a reader, so I have to use my laptop, which is a beautiful machine (I named it Shiny) but not something I want to read a book on. I tend to get distracted by the many other things Shiny can do and it takes forever for me to finish reading something. I've also taken a couple E-book readers for a spin and just haven't found the experience worth buying one, I guess I'm a traditionalist at heart. As for short stories, I avoid them because they tend to make me feel... unfulfilled I guess you'd call it. They tend to leave me wanting more rather than being satisfied.
I'm happy to say though, that Tales From the Mist not only kept me glued to Shiny from page one to the very end, but afterwards, I felt like I'd just finished a literary Thanksgiving dinner, I was stuffed, but knew I'd be thrilled to go back for leftovers the next day.
Tales From the Mist is an anthology of short paranormal stories that cover just about any facet of horror from ghosts, haunted houses, shape-shifters, a vampire rat story and the scariest of all, a persons mind. Usually, when reading an anthology, there are some stories you love, some not so much, but I can easily say this was not the case in this book, each story was great in its own unique way. Though you're not supposed to have favorites, I have to say that Haste by Catie Rhodes struck me both in my sense of justice and her ending twist appealed to my warped sense of humor (those without my warpedness will probably find it terrifying), either way, I loved it.
In spite of having a favorite, I can also say I enjoyed each story for what it brought to the table, each so different, yet equally enjoyable, again, much like that Thanksgiving dinner, I love the mashed potatoes just as much as the stuffing, and smush them all together with the turkey and it's to die for, much like this book. (get it, "to die for" and it's a horror book??? :p I crack myself up)
To bring some extra spooky joy to your Halloween season, you can get Tales From the Mist at Amazon. Enjoy...and leave the lights on.
I'm happy to say though, that Tales From the Mist not only kept me glued to Shiny from page one to the very end, but afterwards, I felt like I'd just finished a literary Thanksgiving dinner, I was stuffed, but knew I'd be thrilled to go back for leftovers the next day.
Tales From the Mist is an anthology of short paranormal stories that cover just about any facet of horror from ghosts, haunted houses, shape-shifters, a vampire rat story and the scariest of all, a persons mind. Usually, when reading an anthology, there are some stories you love, some not so much, but I can easily say this was not the case in this book, each story was great in its own unique way. Though you're not supposed to have favorites, I have to say that Haste by Catie Rhodes struck me both in my sense of justice and her ending twist appealed to my warped sense of humor (those without my warpedness will probably find it terrifying), either way, I loved it.
In spite of having a favorite, I can also say I enjoyed each story for what it brought to the table, each so different, yet equally enjoyable, again, much like that Thanksgiving dinner, I love the mashed potatoes just as much as the stuffing, and smush them all together with the turkey and it's to die for, much like this book. (get it, "to die for" and it's a horror book??? :p I crack myself up)
To bring some extra spooky joy to your Halloween season, you can get Tales From the Mist at Amazon. Enjoy...and leave the lights on.
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