Blessings Various and Sundry

I try to count my blessings as often as possible, and as today is Sunday, it is fitting I share those blessings with you!

Blessing #1: The day job has kept me busy this week. When I am busy, I am happy, and much more productive with every aspect of my life.

Blessing #2: The Christmas tree is still standing. Barely.

Blessing #3: I had a flare-up of my rheumatoid arthritis Thursday night. I thought I was getting a cold, but it turns out that this is the pattern to my flare-ups - I feel like I'm getting the flu. I get a scratchy throat, terrible fatigue, and body aches. Sure enough, the next day, my feet and hands hurt. But it wasn't nearly on the scale that they have before. The new medication I'm taking is working. Praise the Lord!

Blessing #4: My good friend Yvonne (who is also a writer) invited me to a World War II-set Christmas musical at her church Friday night. It was fantastic. I'm not ashamed to admit I shred a few tears, especially since it was set right when Pearl Harbor was bombed. Sitting in the audience, knowing that it had been exactly 71 years ago that Pearl Harbor was attacked, and watching this play onstage, really hit home for me.

Blessing #5: I was able to get a nice chunk of writing done on the novel yesterday. It's clipping along nicely, and I am more than half-way finished with it.

Blessing #6: My daughter and I watched Despicable Me last night. Love that movie and love hearing my daughter laugh even more.

Blessing #7: I am so very thankful for my friends and family. They are my rock.

Blessing #8: This picture:

This is my husband. In 2000, we had a St. Bernard puppy named Tiny Bear. He grew to be enormous and a beloved part of our family until he passed away a few years ago. But I sometimes think he has been reincarnated into our cat, Slick (yes, the cat who gives me no end of trouble). When Slick was watching my husband cook last weekend, I had to get this snapshot. Putting them side by side like this just makes me laugh.

What blessings are you thankful for today?

When You Get Cold...

Winter is almost here. It officially begins on Dec. 21. The temps here have been in the high 50s and 60s, though that is due to change tonight. I'm hoping for snow.

When that snow comes, I will be very grateful that I'm not one of these fellows, standing at attention, in their kilts, to the King of England during a snow storm.

Brrrrrr!

The King inspects officers of 5th Battalion Seaforth Highlanders during a snow storm at Gorhambury Park in Hertfordshire, 29 February 1944.

It Has Begun

I didn't want to wrestle with the fake tree this year. Last year, I nearly tore my hair out just putting it all together, then arranging the branches. It is also a very large tree, so it dwarfed everything else in the living room. So last night, hubby and I went to a local store and bought a beautiful, real balsam fir tree.

Now it's a little crooked, and after we chopped off some branches to make it fit in the stand, it's also a little sparse on the right side. No matter. It was up within 30 seconds and no need to rearrange anything! It also smells wonderful.

It took me about 30 minutes or so to decorate it. I listened to Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra singing Christmas carols, and the only major interruption I had was when my son and husband were yelling at the t.v. downstairs (they were watching college football). Otherwise, it was a peaceful decorating experience.

I think it turned out quite beautiful.

However, the war has now begun.

As you can see by the photo, he is already plotting how to take down that ornament. A few minutes after I took this photo, this ornament became the first victim, rolling across the floor as Slick tore through the tree. But after that, he calmed down and sat under the tree, not bothering a thing. This was a calculated move to throw me off my guard, of course. You see, he has already set a precedent when it comes to his destruction of Christmas trees.

Last year, I tore my hair out over the damage Slick did to the tree on a daily basis. I would come home from work and half the decorations would be on the floor. I'd put them back, only to wake up the next morning and find them on the floor again. Our solution was to place a door in the doorway to the living room every night so he couldn't even get into the room. We just wedge it in place and though it's cumbersome and heavy, it does the job.

When I put up the door last night, Slick was not pleased. He sat in front of it and stared at it, as though he could, by sheer force of will, blast it to smithereens so that he could go and do his dastardly work. In retaliation for my opening volley, he proceeded to annoy me all night long. He woke me up once by scratching on my daughter's bedroom door. I yelled at him. He woke me up again when he jumped on my dresser and knocked over a bunch of stuff. Another yelling commenced. The third time, he woke me up by jumping on my husband's dresser.

When I stumbled out of bed this morning, bleary-eyed and unhappy, I removed the door to the living room and he ran right over to the tree, as though he heard John Wayne yelling, "Charge!" He began fiddling with ornaments, biting on the tree branches, and dismissing my commands to STOP. At one point, he literally had me running circles under the tree. That's when I said enough and put him in my bedroom, then shut the door.

That's where he's at right now. In short, he's been put in time out, like a naughty toddler.

My other cat, Kathryn, could care less about knocking off ornaments and making my life miserable. She loves to lay under the tree and take a nap.

She also loves to pose for photos.

I do believe, if she could talk, she would say, "Look at me! I'm the good one. I'm also cute."

Let the 2012 Christmas Tree War commence!

Tunnel Vision

My Thanksgiving vacation was glorious. I had four days off work, and I only left the house once the entire time - and that was only for an hour or so to get groceries! That is a successful vacation in my book.

Of course, it wasn't all relaxing and reading and eating (speaking of, I need to go to the gym tonight...). I am currently working on the next article for America in WWII magazine. And, as any good historian does, I have managed to gather a massive amount of research. I remember a museum curator told me once, "The historian with the most stuff wins." If my research methods are any indication (read: lots and lots of paperwork), I could probably win the gold medal.

However, all of this stuff has to be filtered into a 2500-3000 word article. I wrestled with it all weekend long, and finally ended up with a rough draft last night. I didn't sigh in relief, though, because the hard work awaits - i.e. editing.

During the weekend, my family tried to engage me in conversation. My husband asked whether or not I wanted Christmas decorations in the front yard. My mom wanted some advice. My daughter tried explaining a new game she found.

I heard what they were saying, but I don't think I processed any of it.

Instead, my head was jam-packed with how I was going to write this article. I was mentally shifting paragraphs, deleting others, making notes on what I needed to add and subtract. I ate a little too much apple pie, and my back hurt from sitting too long. Tunnel vision at its finest.

Sometimes I think too much. My husband says I live inside my head a lot, and that is why he doesn't mind that the house isn't spotless. I am, in his words, an intellectual. That's a label I'll take any day. Indeed, I often forget to clean, and only after I emerge from my fog do I realize I need to scrub the floor or clean the bathroom sink. It's a good thing I have an understanding husband who helps me do laundry and dishes and can also cook better than I can.

Of course, all of this focus on the article has made it impossible to focus on the novel. That's how it should be as the article needs my full attention at this point. I'm not one of those that can work on two intellectually-demanding projects at a time. My brain would pop.

Onward!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thankful for my Lord, my family, my friends, my job, my home, the food in my kitchen, the clothes on my back, the bed I sleep in, my furry kitties, the car I drive, eyes to see, ears to hear, feet to walk and run, chocolate, laughter, joy, silence, solitude, fingers to type, a mind to think, stories galore, books, Snoopy, writing, cell phones to communicate, the Internet, the beautiful sky, leaves and birds and grass, the spirit of giving, love, empathy, hugs, and kisses...in short, I'm thankful for life!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Moving Too Fast

Lots of things are moving too fast lately.

1. The month of November, for one. I can't believe it's more than halfway over. Thanksgiving is in a few days and then we'll be in the Christmas season. In comparison, why does summer drag on and on?

2. My daughter is wearing make-up now. And straightening her hair. And oh yes, she is certifiably boy crazy. She's growing up too fast.

3. Now that I think about it, this entire year has gone by too fast. Does this happen as you age? I think so. I honestly don't remember years going by this fast when I was a kid. They seemed to plod along at a snail's pace.

4. However, one thing that is not moving too fast is my writing. I'm plodding along, but it's been hit or miss lately. I blame...well, there's really nothing to blame it on. I've actually felt pretty good physically, though mentally I've been struggling with very low motivation and depression. Gah.

Anything moving too fast for you these days?

Sing Your Song

Veterans Day 2012

Remember them. 

Honor them. 

Never forget them.

On Elections and Bowling

On Elections...

It's Election Day here in the U.S. (which probably nearly everyone on the planet knows). I'm off to vote after work.

My mailbox has been inundated with junk mail from the local elections, and I'm heartily sick of it. The few times I watched t.v. and a political ad came on, I immediately hit the "mute" button. Ha!

If it's one message I want to send to anyone reading this blog, it's this: our political leaders are not rock stars or celebrities, and we should not view them as such. They are our employees. They are accountable to we the people. To forget this is dangerous. Hitler and Stalin taught us that.

I'm just glad it will all be over with come tomorrow. My recycling bin will thank me.

On Bowling (And My Health)...

It's been quiet on the blog...that's because my health is up and down a lot lately. I went bowling the other night with hubby for our date and spent the next two days walking around the house like an 80-year-old woman. This puts a cramp in my writing, and there are some days when stringing two sentences together is more difficult than making it rain.

I have my follow-up appointment at the rheumatologist tomorrow, and I'm hopeful of getting a diagnosis and perhaps getting started on some treatment options. Having your entire body hurt and wanting to take a nap all day long is certainly not conducive to any sort of writing productivity (or any productivity, for that matter).

Gratuitous photo of my napping cat.

However! I tend to think the two days of pain after bowling was slightly worth it since I beat my husband on every single game...

Push Through

I posted this tweet during my writing session last night:

Tonight's writing session is like trying to herd cats. #failing miserably

The words were definitely "trickling" at my last writing session!

And yes, I was quite miserable. The words were painful to produce and several times I nearly quit. But then I read Pablo Picasso's quote, "Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working."

So back to the page I went. I told myself, "Just finish the chapter. That's all."

And lo and behold, the scene I was working on finally came together into something I never expected. It was perfect.

Well, the words themselves weren't perfect, but hey, that's what editing is for!

Moral of the story: When you hit resistance in your writing, push through.

Keep 'Em Separated?

On Twitter (which I'm still not convinced I like), I've been following some literary agents. Sometimes they get political. As this is a hotly-contested presidential election this year in the U.S., talking politics can get you into some pretty stellar arguments.

Which is fine. Disagreement and talking about issues is what we do in this country (though sometimes not very well if all the nastiness I see on both sides is any evidence...).

But what I'm wondering is this: should you mix politics/religion/other hot button issues, with business?

I understand that we all have opinions. But I also think there is a time and place to share them precisely because they can be so divisive. I understand there are some that don't care about these topics (and sometimes I wish I didn't, either, as my blood pressure would thank me) and there are those who hold passionate beliefs and have no problem airing them for all to see.

If, however, you interact with the public on a daily basis, and that public includes a wide swathe of people on all sides of the political spectrum, is it necessarily wise to start discussing politics or religion? Celebrities tend to get away with it as they have a huge following and can afford to alienate a few people if those people choose to boycott them based on their political/religious beliefs (I'm not a fan of boycotts, but that is another topic I don't want to get into).

But let's confine this to the literary world. Agents, editors, marketers, and publishers: should they mix politics with business? What about aspiring authors? If an aspiring author who was trying to find an agent posted a bunch of politically one-sided ads, would it hurt his or her chances at getting an agent even if their writing was stellar? I guess I'd like to ask that question of some agents and editors, too.

I tend to think we should keep business and politics separate.

What do you think?