tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49031258506878382822024-03-06T01:25:23.025-07:00Story RabbitsWatch out. Stories multiply when you're not looking.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger186125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-80664205911588889252018-04-22T11:30:00.000-06:002018-04-22T11:30:08.083-06:00The Not-So-Obvious Stuggles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSh3NoSpTYdJYMI9CpNqx9nqfDWpXxb5Qg3xxyA59l3eEQCTu8DLxS20-Rv7dY9ESyj9H2yQHDf2lzgYenr727ySJiJMM2IhZeg3uj9OkW67DXdIcTHr37ToxKraPVODy6xH00pXYiDo/s1600/kryptonite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSh3NoSpTYdJYMI9CpNqx9nqfDWpXxb5Qg3xxyA59l3eEQCTu8DLxS20-Rv7dY9ESyj9H2yQHDf2lzgYenr727ySJiJMM2IhZeg3uj9OkW67DXdIcTHr37ToxKraPVODy6xH00pXYiDo/s400/kryptonite.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Two weeks ago I was lucky enough to head up the Spring book fair at my son's elementary school. It was a serious blessing that I didn't have to run the thing alone because, as it was, I felt like I was run off my feet. From 8:00 in the morning until nearly 5:00 in the evening I was at that school, freezing my tush off in the gym, and helping people buy books on inefficient registers. It was fun, because I love books and love talking to people who love books, but I'm telling you, I felt like a dead and beaten horse at the end of every day.<br />
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To add a little touch of aggravation, our washer died. Completely and unexpectedly. So, I've been trekking to the laundromat for about a month and a half, once a week. During the book fair, my husband came to the laundromat with me, and we didn't finish with the clothing until midnight.<br />
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The next night we went and bought a new washer. *snort* Nothing like lighting a fire under the right bottom.<br />
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Twice that week I woke up in tears because I didn't think I could handle another day.<br />
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It was also a very busy weekend following the book fair. So, no rest for the weary.<br />
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When I finally had a normal week in front of me, I crashed. My children were at school and I tried to get things done and be a productive, normal, individual, but it didn't quite work out that way. I spent a lot of time sitting and lying down. I didn't even have the energy to write. After three days of struggling to be normal, I gave in to what my body wanted to do anyway, and slept for fifteen hours straight. I was groggy for a few hours afterward, but then I actually did feel normal, instead of just trying to be.<br />
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I tell you this whole saga of my busy week, and the ensuing crash, not because I want sympathy or anything similar to it. It's just life. Everyone has something they struggle with, and I felt like I needed to share what I struggle with, since it isn't obvious to most people. <br />
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I was talking to my sister-in-law yesterday and she and I thought it would be great if anything that was wrong with you physically showed up on the outside. You could look at someone and immediately know. Oh! They have the stomach flu. Or, That back pain isn't getting any better. Or, They have the same stuff I do! But because we're all able, to varying degrees, to disguise our ailments, most people have no idea we have ailments at all.<br />
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I have ailments. I ail. Just like each of you. Let's not be afraid to share those ailments with each other, because through our sharing we become stronger, more honest with ourselves and others, and more able to cope with the things we struggle with.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-6226743841563394072018-04-07T20:38:00.000-06:002018-04-07T20:38:08.212-06:00Free Your Cornbread<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you're looking for some witty life lesson or book recommendation or a controversial opinion, I'm sorry to disappoint on this occasion. But if you try either of the following recipes, you'll love them.<br />
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I am a baker. I love the challenge of seeing a recipe and knowing I could make it. I love the idea of only using ingredients I know the names of (nothing of the four syllable variety). It's cheaper than going to a bakery. There is nothing quite like making something for the people you love and having them lick their lips and look for more. And the last couple of years, there is also the challenge of taking a recipe that isn't gluten, sugar, or dairy free and making it so.<br />
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(Please note that I did not make the cornbread in the picture I used. I can make things taste good, but it rarely looks good. Making things pretty is not a talent of mine.)<br />
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The latest recipe I've "freed" is cornbread. Trust me when I say that the cornbread I've always made is more like cake than bread. It's sweet (sorry to all you Southerners who prefer it savory) and moist and lovely.<br />
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Here's the original recipe as it was given to me by my friend Sarah:<br />
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Mormon Cookbook Cornbread<br />
1/2 C. butter, softened<br />
1 C. sugar<br />
2 eggs<br />
1 C. cornmeal<br />
1 1/2 C. flour<br />
2 tea. baking powder<br />
1/2 tea. salt<br />
1 1/2 C. milk<br />
** Cream butter and sugar, add eggs. Add dry ingredients, and milk. Whisk or beat until smooth. Place in greased 8X8 inch pan. Bake at 375 for 35-40 minutes, or until a toothpick come out clean.<br />
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It's a simple recipe. This is how I changed it.<br />
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1/4 C. coconut oil (You can taste a hint of coconut in the finished product and it's lovely.)<br />
1/4 C. applesauce<br />
1/2 C. honey/agave (or less)<br />
2 eggs<br />
1 C. cornmeal (not masa flour. It's different, as I learned the hard way.)<br />
1 1/2 C. GF flour blend (I've been using the blend from America's Test Kitchen and substituting millet flour for the white rice flour. It works well.)<br />
2 tea. baking powder<br />
1/2 tea. salt<br />
1/2 tea xantham gum (only three syllables, so it's allowed.)<br />
1 1/2 C. soy/almond/rice milk<br />
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The method is the same as before, but the batter is slightly runnier. It may take a minute or two longer to bake. Trust your toothpick.<br />
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I've experimented with flavoring it as well. Try adding 1/2 tea. of nutmeg or cinnamon. Or add blueberries or other fresh fruit. Using maple syrup to sweeten and flavor makes for a delicious deviation. For those who prefer savory, try decreasing the amount of honey/agave and add chili powder, cumin, or rosemary. Although, the rosemary would taste great in sweet or savory. <br />
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If you're looking for a delightful variation for breakfast, break up leftover cornbread and pour milk (or your milk substitute) over it. Mmm. For an upcoming dinner at the Ellsworth home, I'm going to use leftover chili I made, put cornbread overtop and bake it in my own version of tamale pie.<br />
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Basically, make it however you want. Go crazy. That's a baker's right.<br />
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Maybe that's why I like baking.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-85648479519292858582018-02-26T15:31:00.001-07:002018-02-26T15:31:27.970-07:00My Son: Pin CushionIt has been a life-changing couple of months, at least for my older son. Two days after our new insurance kicked in, I made a doctor's appointment of him. He'd gotten the flu over Christmas break (which must be some kind of cruel joke) and never got feeling completely better. So, his first day back at school he called me during first period and asked me to come get him.<br />
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For some teenagers that would be a hard and fast no, but for him it was a clear signal that he was really sick. Hence the doc.<br />
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Just before we walked out the door to the appointment, my son filled up this enormous bottle of water to take with us. We were just going for a ten minute doctor's visit and he needed a two liter bottle of water? Suddenly a light bulb went on in my head.<br />
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Getting my blood glucose meter out, I tortured him by poking his finger with a tiny needle until we got a drop of blood. The way he moaned, you would have thought I was using a machete and his finger had come off. I sincerely wish that was the worst of what happened that day. <br />
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His sugar levels were so high that my meter couldn't read them.<br />
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We got in the car and I started grilling him about how he was really feeling, because I knew it wasn't just the flu anymore. The doc confirmed it... my son is diabetic.<br />
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He spent the next four days in the pediatric unit of the hospital, and while we had a few exciting moments -- like when he dosed up for a massive meal and then couldn't finish eating it, and when he had an allergic reaction to some medication, and when his stomach started cramping so badly he thought he was dying-- mostly he lay in bed watching movies and eating whatever he wanted. He thought it was the best vacation ever.<br />
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When asked, he will tell you that he knew that if any of my children were going to get diabetes, it would be him. He said he wasn't even surprised. Since coming home from the hospital, he has pretty well adjusted to life as a pin cushion. He does everything he's supposed to without complaint and willingly measures and weighs his food so he can dose up correctly. He's a superstar.<br />
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So, while I'm glad he's doing so well, I still feel bad that my genes brought him such a crappy disease. It makes everything he attempts for the rest of his life "high risk" and that's just stink. Stink. Stink. So I'd like to take this moment to apologize to him publicly because I am sorry.<br />
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At least he doesn't whine about sticking himself with needles anymore.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-89733108847325848542018-01-08T17:31:00.001-07:002018-01-08T17:31:52.701-07:00ENOUGH!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Stepping onto my soapbox...<br />
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I fully appreciate and support the idea that women be empowered. I never want a women hurt simply because she's a woman. The ideas I take issue with are that women feel like they have to push everyone else down in order to give themselves the power they think they deserve. That isn't empowerment, that's all kinds of bad things, like sexism, suppression, and prejudice. Women don't have to knock other people down to prove our power. We are already powerful. <br />
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The initial feminist movement wasn't about making women better, or higher, than our male counterparts, it was about making us equal, giving us choices. I believe that initial movement was right! And in large part, I believe it was successful. Women have choices to be whatever we want to be: doctors, lawyers, underwater basket weavers, explorers, exhibitionists, or homemakers. We have the power to go out into the world and create for ourselves what we want to be. That, my friends, is empowerment. Being empowered has nothing to do with how powerful anyone else is. <br />
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So men? Yeah, they're different from women. Just like black skin is different from white. But those differences don't make one side better than the other. Differences just make us different, they do NOT make one better than the other. We can be different and still be equal. Everyone, every human, should have the power to make of themselves whatever they want to be. To be empowered.<br />
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But my choice to be an author in no way should diminish the right of someone else to choose what they want to be. If a man wants to also be a stay-at-home parent who writes, they should not get any backlash for that choice. If I wanted to become a psychologist, I should receive no backlash about that because of my gender, my race, or anything else that I have no control over. That means that those men who imposed their wills on women were wrong, but so also are the women who are making it impossible for decent men to be what they want to be. Choices mean empowerment.<br />
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That is why I am so annoyed with the direction celebrity and the media have taken things over the last few months. They've vilified all men because there are a few bad eggs in high profile places. In fact, the one or two men who have spoken up to say that not all men are bad have been blasted right off the internet. That is called sexism. By placing women above men simply because we are women is sexism. And it's wrong. It's hurtful. It isn't helping ANYONE. It shouldn't happen.<br />
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Let's begin by making everyone equal, not making a wrong even wronger by perpetuating it.<br />
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Let's return to that picture I posted at the beginning to point out a matter of irony I can't let pass by. These women are standing together by all wearing black, to support women. Right? Well, let's think about this further. They have lambasted men for objectifying and harassing women, but look at the dresses they're wearing! How can a person, man or woman, look at someone wearing a dress that shows so much skin in such a provocative manner and NOT objectify that woman? They're saying one thing with their mouths and completely negating it with their actions. Just saying. Let's be consistent people!<br />
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Thank you. I'm stepping off my soapbox now.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-42975519360431294642017-10-20T19:21:00.002-06:002017-10-20T19:21:31.484-06:00Black Bean BrowniesI am completely and totally flabbergasted. For the last several months my husband's Aunt Sherrie has been telling us to try her Black Bean Brownies. I don't know if I need to explain why we didn't try them right away. Black Bean + Brownies? Ew, right?<br />
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Well, it just so happens that we were being unnecessarily prejudiced against these no flour, no sugar, black beanies. They are amazing! And I'm not the only one who thinks so. (I usually have to ask other people if something tastes good to them too. Since I've been eating gluten-free, sugar-free for so long my taste buds are severely skewed.) My husband and daughter both thought they were delicious and they're the most discerning tasters I know. <br />
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Seriously, everyone should try these guilt-free babies. You'll be feeling chocolatey and happy in your healthy gloating.<br />
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I just say "you're welcome" now.<br />
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BLACK BEAN BROWNIES:<br />
1 15 oz can (1 3/4 Cup) black beans (well rinsed, drained)<br />
2 large eggs<br />
3 TBLSP coconut oil<br />
a pinch of salt<br />
3/4 Cup cocoa powder<br />
1 tsp. vanilla<br />
2/3 C. honey, agave, sugar (or mix and match)<br />
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder<br />
**Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Puree bean and other ingredients in a food processor or blender for three minutes, or until smooth and well blended. Fill muffin tin, or small baking dish. For muffins, bake 12-15 mins. For baking dish bake 20-25 mins.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-84911450729755588602017-10-14T13:55:00.000-06:002017-10-14T13:55:00.968-06:00The Blue CastleOccasionally I'll be cruising around the book section of my local amazon store (which, as everyone knows, is located at our kitchen table in our pajamas with messy hair) and find something I am shocked, appalled and delighted to see. For example:<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Blue-Castle-Lucy-Maud-Montgomery-ebook/dp/B07281X6DR/ref=pd_sim_351_6?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=JCBWDV2QY66NEK4WQ05B" target="_blank">The Blue Castle</a><br />
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The Blue Castle is written by L. M. Montgomery, the same beloved author who wrote the Anne of Green Gables books. Most of her books are difficult to read as stand-alones because they're part of a series, but this one... this one is a gem. One of my favorite books ever, and I mean EVER. <br />
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Ms. Montgomery was always known for writing characters that leapt off the pages and became real, full-blooded friends and neighbors and the characters in this story are no different. I really feel like I know Valancy. I lived with her through the trials and joys and heartaches of the year she lived when she thought she would die. I snuggled in the cabin on the island in the lake and watched the moonlight sift the leaves through each season. I felt the anguish in her broken heart when she felt she'd betrayed the one man she had ever loved. And I laughed with her when she told her family all the thoughts she'd kept inside her head and watched as they reacted to her words. <br />
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Truly, this story is a joy, a constant refreshment and reminder that we have control over our lives and can make our own happiness. And some times, that happiness lands in our laps when we've done nothing to deserve it except live as best as we could.<br />
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Have I gushed enough? I don't think it's possible to gush enough about this book, but I'll stop anyway.<br />
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The major reason I'm bringing this book up in a blog post is, not only did I find it on amazon, but it's one dollar. ONE DOLLAR! So... click on the link, right now, and buy it. Sometimes when we see books that aren't expensive we figure they must not be worth very much. Don't let its price fool you. Just be happy you have access to a gem that'll knock your socks off at a price that allows you to keep all your limbs. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-19823692042297494892017-08-23T13:42:00.004-06:002017-08-23T13:42:48.512-06:00*Sniff*<br />
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I wish this picture didn't describe my first day of school reaction every year, but it's spot on. <br />
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Every year, I sit around and wonder what I'm supposed to do with myself now. My kids are gone. My job is sitting in front of the computer in my imaginary world, but I can stand up and walk away whenever I want. Truth be told, I probably walk away more often than I should. But mostly, after three months of having my kids home all day every day, I miss them. They give me purpose, along with something to do. Also, I like them. They're among my favorite people.<br />
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And one of the worst things is that I feel like I'm one of the only people who feels like this. It seems that everyone is busy, constantly running from one duty or activity to the next. They don't have the time or need to wonder what they're going to do with themselves because they're already doing it. Does that mean along with missing three pieces of my heart that there's something wrong with me? Really, does anyone else feel this way?<br />
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So, go ahead and ponder that while I mop up my face. I'll try to buck up and give myself some direction for my life sans enfants.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-21958766618994836402017-08-02T10:31:00.001-06:002017-08-02T10:31:59.866-06:00Badlands, Good Book<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our family vacation was so much fun. I know you are all waiting with baited breath to hear about it. Who doesn't like looking at other people's vacation photos? *snort*<br />
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We stayed for two night in Breckenridge, Colorado. I'd never even heard of Breckenridge (not being a skier) but it was the cutest town I've ever seen. One morning I jogged along a river path that I truly wish I could fold up like a board game and carry with me where ever I go. This was a small area I got to pass as the sun was cresting the Rockies. The surroundings deserve a much better camera and photographer than this picture got, but it was all I had to work with at the time.<br />
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We then moved on to Devil's Tower in Wyoming. I must lead a very uneducated life because I had no idea this place existed. It was super, super cool.</div>
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Eastern Wyoming turned out to be a place I wouldn't mind living. So beautiful. At least during the summer months. I hear the winters are way harsh (I couldn't resist throwing in some valley girl.) so that would probably be why no one lives there currently. But isn't it lovely?<br />
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And this old coal mine was sitting on the side of the road. (Apparently, I got into sun flares.)</div>
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We rode passed Sturgis after dark, but weren't attacked by any biker gangs. It was a little disappointing. The following day we knocked out several places from our list. Strangely, the only picture I got from all of that was this terrible one from Mt. Rushmore.</div>
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It rained and rained and rained while we were there. We saw the faces for about three minutes when we first got there, then, embarrassed by all the Disneyland-like hype surrounding them, they hid in the clouds. We also saw Crazy Horse and that first picture up there: the Badlands. (The Badlands aren't bad, they're misunderstood.)</div>
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I didn't get any pictures of Ellsworth Air Force Base, but it was lots of fun to have our name on jets. My brother and father-in-law went on a guided bus tour of the base and the tour guide said they needed everyone's ID so they could be sure none of them shouldn't enter. He jokingly said they'd all probably be fine, since they only pulled terrorists off the bus. Just then, two guards came and called out the names of my father and brother-in-law and escorted them off the bus. I imagine everyone left on the bus had their noses pressed against the glass, trying to see and hear what these two gentle men were accused of. Turned out, the guards just saw the name Ellsworth and wanted to know if they were related to the man the base was named after. But the guards also knew how it looked and got a kick out of it.</div>
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We made it back home eventually. In case you wondered.</div>
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Also, in case you wondered, I have two books to give out. Thanks to Katy and Janet for your comments. If you will email me, or contact me on Facebook, I'll make sure you get your books.</div>
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Happy reading!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-19786115024249747822017-07-23T07:55:00.001-06:002017-07-23T07:55:39.799-06:00Summertime and the Living Is LazyAs far as productivity goes this summer doesn't rate very high. <br />
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Mostly, the kids have been breaking concrete with a sledgehammer, practicing piano, and waiting for 4:30 to FINALLY get here so they can turn on their screens and do some serious gaming. I have been reading, writing, and getting hit repeatedly with the Hashimoto's stick. I've decided that Hashimoto's loves my life because it keeps trying to take it over. My husband has been working two jobs, so he doesn't fit in at all with what the rest of us have been doing. (Or rather, not doing.)<br />
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There are two exceptions to our Summer of Doing Nothing:<br />
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My second novella got published in "The Pathways to the Heart" anthology! Woo! This is a big deal! I would stand up and cheer it from the rooftops if I had that kind of energy. Even if I don't shout it out, it's definitely worth a read. You can <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Pathways-Heart-Coming-Age-Anthology/dp/146212030X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1500816316&sr=8-3&keywords=mandi+ellsworth" target="_blank">find it on Amazon </a>as a kindle or hard copy. At <a href="https://www.seagullbook.com/mm5/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=seagull&Product_Code=999229" target="_blank">Seagull Book</a>. Or <a href="https://deseretbook.com/p/the-pathways-to-the-heart?ref=product-image&variant_id=152992-paperback" target="_blank">Deseret Book</a>. <br />
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My story is about a rancher in Oregon in 1888 who finds a few unexpected guests in his house who have nowhere else to go. When he helps them find food and safety, he ultimately helps himself find happiness. If you leave a comment on this post or on Facebook by August first, you may just be lucky enough to<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"> win a copy</span> of this lovely book for yourself.<br />
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The second exception to this summer is that we're going on a road trip! We leave tomorrow for Colorado and then on to Mt. Rushmore. In Colorado we're mostly doing research for the story I'm in the middle of writing - because I'm so dedicated to my craft I make my family give up part of their summer vacation for it. In my defense, Fairplay, Colorado has some amazing history displayed. And none of us have seen Mt. Rushmore or Crazy Horse or the Badlands. So, watch out South Dakota, here we come! <br />
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It's just a good thing we don't have to walk there, or I'd never make it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-49772562454785368792017-06-07T10:03:00.000-06:002017-06-07T10:03:14.326-06:00Summer Lovin'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just got the release date for my next book. (If you notice, my name is the second one down from the top. Silver medal. I like silver better than gold anyway.) The release date of this lovely second anthology is July 11. Put that on your calendars: July 11.<br />
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Now, if I can just persuade myself to actually do something productive this summer, I might begin to market the little beastie.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-83590757125623444322017-05-15T09:17:00.001-06:002017-05-15T09:17:18.262-06:00Meh to Mother's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Since Mother's Day was just yesterday, I'm speaking to you all from my pedestal, looking down on the rest of the world from waaaay up here. I'm sure over the next day or two, that pedestal will sink back down to rest where it usually resides, right between the titles of picker-upper and nagger. But I'm enjoying the view while it lasts.<br />
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The last couple of years I've struggled with Mother's Day. Yesterday, I woke up and decided I'd rather just not get out of bed. I didn't want to deal with myself and that made me bugged with everyone else. But, like pretty much every other mother I know, I got out of bed. I even got dressed and went to church because I'm nothing if not disciplined. (snort)<br />
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I made it all the way through the first two hours of church with no problems, other that agreeing with myself repeatedly that I didn't want to be there. Then came the last hour, where the Young Women combined with all us old ladies and we had a couple of talks about mothers and strawberry shortcake was distributed. I enjoyed a plateful of strawberries with my daughter, then I looked around. It didn't take me long before I was on my feet and out the door.<br />
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I still don't know what it was that made me feel like I couldn't stay there one more second, but I was done. I walked home with my head down, ignoring the beautiful sunshine while trying to figure myself out, but the few blocks wasn't long enough to puzzle it out. All I knew is that I wanted my head on my pillow and I wanted it immediately. <br />
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That's how I was when my husband found me.<br />
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I don't think my dislike of Mother's Day is because of guilt or inadequacy or anything like that, although I certainly feel that. I have thought that maybe it's because even bad mothers get a pedestal on Mother's Day, and mother's that hate being mothers and never wanted to be one get a pedestal, and all of us who work and try and give our everything every day to being good mothers get the same strawberries as everyone else. And maybe that's part of it, but that isn't all of it, either.<br />
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So while I work on figuring out my dislike, I hope all of you had a wonderful Mother's Day and that you made it wonderful for the wonderful mothers in your life.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-47333179526666696482017-05-01T09:20:00.003-06:002017-05-01T09:20:27.687-06:00A blog of SistersIf you're interested in hearing some life experiences from some very lovely ladies, I recommend you hop over to <a href="http://alotofsisters.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">this blog</a> my sisters created. It's just been started a few weeks ago, but we're committed to submitting something at least once a week. There will be pictures, videos, true stories, recipes, tips, and more. I, myself, will be posting some gluten-free recipes (like my favorite pumpkin muffins and homemade granola. Mmmm), along with some things I've learned over the years that make my life better.<br />
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Stop on by and get to know more about the Morley women.<br />
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(If you need the actual address, it's: http://alotofsisters.blogspot.com )<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-66934610453855640822017-04-04T11:35:00.000-06:002017-04-04T11:35:32.173-06:00Oh Happy Day!It's official! We're in junk mail! We have officially arrived (in your mailbox)! Just in time to buy things for Mother's Day. Mom's love "Unexpected Love". Just ask mine, she has at least fifteen copies.<br />
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Speaking of Moms... Mine is about as cute as they come. It was her 80th birthday last week and she got a new phone. Proving that she is forever young, this is her New Phone Dance. </div>
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Love my Mama.</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-64955866980101057132017-03-20T23:16:00.001-06:002017-03-20T23:16:24.612-06:00Shameless Plug<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was listening to a history podcast the other day. (Yay podcasts!) (Yay history!) (Yay listening!) (Yay me!?!) And I found <a href="http://www.missedinhistory.com/podcasts/slcc-live-historical-fiction.htm" target="_blank">this one</a>! It includes E.B. Wheeler, who happens to be a co-author with me in "Pathways to the Heart", coming to bookstores in July. This history podcast was recorded live at the Salt Lake Comicon, which sounds like a great time. I was impressed by E.B. Wheeler's knowledge about history and it was fun to hear about her writing process too.<br />
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Go ahead and stop reading this and click on over to <a href="http://www.missedinhistory.com/podcasts/slcc-live-historical-fiction.htm" target="_blank">this link</a>. You'll be happy you did.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-25426364041196488032017-03-09T17:53:00.006-07:002017-03-09T17:53:54.194-07:00Excerpts <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdKkZM5UyVrCJAKXfoq8AqzjfepB5r6-cAMlYAT-W6p0VCaDtEhXlzjCtYkQvCJgJ3QhbkYK8jyhbcDlzsLdED0pa5XvjQ22RNrGv074I7DWd6qMnjjB7Zmz7xk7OJNvwRZsQPkmG6Qk/s1600/Miss+McKinney+was+now+Mrs.+Fattore.+It+was+likely+too+late+to+be+realizing+it%252C+but+he+was+a+married+man.+He+knew+how+to+chase+outlaws+and+bring+criminals+to+justice%252C+but+what+was+he+going+to+do+with+a+wife%253F.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdKkZM5UyVrCJAKXfoq8AqzjfepB5r6-cAMlYAT-W6p0VCaDtEhXlzjCtYkQvCJgJ3QhbkYK8jyhbcDlzsLdED0pa5XvjQ22RNrGv074I7DWd6qMnjjB7Zmz7xk7OJNvwRZsQPkmG6Qk/s400/Miss+McKinney+was+now+Mrs.+Fattore.+It+was+likely+too+late+to+be+realizing+it%252C+but+he+was+a+married+man.+He+knew+how+to+chase+outlaws+and+bring+criminals+to+justice%252C+but+what+was+he+going+to+do+with+a+wife%253F.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtFbz0_-C-ToARxAODWeSeJCAOtRLuMxKWvmfHTYEPpmh6MPEyy1LVGtyYniEo9NmjfX6adq5ShYSgvBrGNtu5Dv9LcRahy_i-pIDGvTurs3FQfAaNgj6o0ifDur-Qd_IaoRskplEIu_4/s1600/As+much+as+he+hated+to+disturb+her%252C+she+did+have+two+pillows+and+she+wasn%25E2%2580%2599t+even+using+them.+He+cleared+his+throat.+%25E2%2580%259CWould+you+mind+sharing+one+of+those+pillows%253F%25E2%2580%259DNo+response.He+tried+again.+%25E2%2580%259CCould+you+share+one+of+th.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtFbz0_-C-ToARxAODWeSeJCAOtRLuMxKWvmfHTYEPpmh6MPEyy1LVGtyYniEo9NmjfX6adq5ShYSgvBrGNtu5Dv9LcRahy_i-pIDGvTurs3FQfAaNgj6o0ifDur-Qd_IaoRskplEIu_4/s400/As+much+as+he+hated+to+disturb+her%252C+she+did+have+two+pillows+and+she+wasn%25E2%2580%2599t+even+using+them.+He+cleared+his+throat.+%25E2%2580%259CWould+you+mind+sharing+one+of+those+pillows%253F%25E2%2580%259DNo+response.He+tried+again.+%25E2%2580%259CCould+you+share+one+of+th.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-55406295996197534792017-02-28T07:29:00.002-07:002017-02-28T07:29:20.205-07:00WHAT?!?<br />
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<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvTY9Cd7wPffI-bT_8oUwzoL9OiHEYMOrvdNvF34bvRbLbO6TZwFu_8HVGqaSZg1EFfieE1HyaV4hgnLMJyIXIzhaV9Er_UPOAV5glIWsmGIx0QzBy0k6q8aJOq_1tHZLdk7hdKIxCkvw/s320/Unexpected-Love-Cover-978146211979.jpg" width="213" /></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Unexpected-Love-Marriage-Convenience-Anthology/dp/1462119794/ref=redir_mobile_desktop?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=K9ZCPBB641A5ZEHSQPQM&ref_=pd_aw_sim_sbs_14_2" target="_blank">This book</a> is available NOW on amazon! Two weeks early! Buy yourselves a copy and enjoy four lovely stories by four beautiful authors. (Now I'm just projecting, but the stories are fun to read.) You'll love them and we'll love you for supporting us.<br />
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YAY!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-34594991069349952912017-01-30T09:04:00.002-07:002017-01-30T09:04:14.110-07:00Coming Soon!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OQMNTRTvT-qUvLb5Ug5E-j0Nr46vIEz7pavn8XGwQQ4Rn7yFilxgfwd0RPNvZ5ho_y_Pr28W6Ei4NP00E_tPK6anXS2k35Brycz4cbiQm5yhqjFW6kXdRBtVItMC9iSnpXHpEGDK6OE/s1600/Pathways-to-the-Heart_9781462120307_web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OQMNTRTvT-qUvLb5Ug5E-j0Nr46vIEz7pavn8XGwQQ4Rn7yFilxgfwd0RPNvZ5ho_y_Pr28W6Ei4NP00E_tPK6anXS2k35Brycz4cbiQm5yhqjFW6kXdRBtVItMC9iSnpXHpEGDK6OE/s400/Pathways-to-the-Heart_9781462120307_web.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Just wanted to share with you the cover for the second anthology I'm involved in. This book will come out in July 2017. </div>
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Is it weird to anyone else that I already have the cover for a book I haven't finished writing?</div>
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Speaking of that... last week I went to Oregon to stay with my sister for a few days so I could research what the Cascade foothills are like because my story is set there. It's beautiful. I hope my words can do it justice. </div>
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Also, this cover is lovely, but it really has nothing to do with what I'm writing. Just FYI.</div>
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I'd love to hear what ya'll think of it.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-24966926901218184822017-01-04T10:06:00.002-07:002017-01-04T10:06:51.153-07:00Snow Storm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAk8rgudAR0NV8Rh1Og00gl8ilHnlAGzwJzMJlzoJqcz2APhopszVPTaOY9Z4MVyMsk3qt-_N_ZxY9jZCOs4lYpPJ-rm22AzOHVoX2hLhyphenhyphenakUmy8p4i7vzHcCagYUY1dmzWkw6rfBSHnI/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAk8rgudAR0NV8Rh1Og00gl8ilHnlAGzwJzMJlzoJqcz2APhopszVPTaOY9Z4MVyMsk3qt-_N_ZxY9jZCOs4lYpPJ-rm22AzOHVoX2hLhyphenhyphenakUmy8p4i7vzHcCagYUY1dmzWkw6rfBSHnI/s320/images-1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We got more than a foot of snow in a twenty-four hour period. In some parts of the world that would be next to nothing, but in Utah that's almost miraculous. In Utah, getting anything other than sunshine coming down from the sky is almost miraculous. So because of all the snow, the schools delayed starting by two hours yesterday. The kids weren't excited about having two hours in which they were completely ready with nowhere to go, they were a little miffed that they had to have school at all.<br />
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My husband took the two older children to school and got stuck trying to get out of the driveway. It took twenty minutes to get them on the road. <br />
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I really hate driving in the snow. I go so slow the drivers behind me think I'm a ninety year-old. And because I also hate getting stuck, I got my youngest child to help me shovel the driveway. Let me just say that my muscles are still upset about being used. <br />
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Anyway, snow. What a great way to start the new year. Right? (I'm trying really hard not to be sarcastic.) Ahem. Yay snow!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2UgR2Ph1G1ARrwriRP1kjgSNpur8LDVyP4CNIC8oi_uq4DWjZJWffkgyUFJGWVLLU8YKYsGpAdIcVo6jw_NHLabhe41QKNGWyROJSY748dxgLqV5-yocIQC9eIZ6Mf_BrUmQH2AKEJyk/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2UgR2Ph1G1ARrwriRP1kjgSNpur8LDVyP4CNIC8oi_uq4DWjZJWffkgyUFJGWVLLU8YKYsGpAdIcVo6jw_NHLabhe41QKNGWyROJSY748dxgLqV5-yocIQC9eIZ6Mf_BrUmQH2AKEJyk/s400/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
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(At least I don't live there!)</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-79086277826571349452016-12-16T10:23:00.000-07:002016-12-16T10:23:05.272-07:00It's Christmastime, Charlie Brown.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDUZ-zquzS511dgG_tKvTjfbH0diBlE3Pb0hvkAJwBl_I2yxNptB2ddgL1dAyIz-i0zVr77vNWtUiwsns517oeRPgT3ky49ytVURDyFSdJjcGpEjlx_a4eMmN85Ae8cvfvMy8pdydVYMw/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDUZ-zquzS511dgG_tKvTjfbH0diBlE3Pb0hvkAJwBl_I2yxNptB2ddgL1dAyIz-i0zVr77vNWtUiwsns517oeRPgT3ky49ytVURDyFSdJjcGpEjlx_a4eMmN85Ae8cvfvMy8pdydVYMw/s200/Unknown.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
This time of year, I forget about the simple pleasures of life. Honestly. There's too much to do. Who has time to sit by the fire with a mug of hot cocoa and just be still? (Not that I have a fireplace, or can drink hot cocoa, but I'm sure you get the idea.) And if we do have, or make, the time to relax, doesn't it usually involve some kind of screen: phone, tablet, computer, TV, theater? It isn't like we're really taking in our surroundings, breathing in the atmosphere of the birth of the Savior and feeling the ho ho ho. <br />
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If I'm wrong, and you are the type of person who inhales Currier and Ives and exhales twinkle lights, I beg your pardon. <br />
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I'd love to be the kind of person who can gaze through the Winter darkness and focus on nothing more than the starlight, but I have to admit, after about two minutes of that, I'm bored. Especially when there are still so many good books I haven't read yet, and so many concerts and games my kids are involved in, and so many presents to buy and wrap, family pictures to take, and so many cookies to bake. <br />
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But even with all that in mind, I'd like to take the opportunity to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas. I wish you all the peace, joy, and hope the Light of the World brings to the hearts of us all. And I also wish you a moment of quiet by the fire with your cup of cocoa, even if it is only metaphorically.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSByMi94K5KCK8_Jsgenm51V51mujW37KjSiB1WCmFoj3j6Jsx8xCc2t_jddzeKVH9g0SoqmjJceiwBp-biXeqG-FlKASvs_-mjInAxpJG8xxkEatzVi_WsUlTp3h5wVu385uFVS1u22I/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSByMi94K5KCK8_Jsgenm51V51mujW37KjSiB1WCmFoj3j6Jsx8xCc2t_jddzeKVH9g0SoqmjJceiwBp-biXeqG-FlKASvs_-mjInAxpJG8xxkEatzVi_WsUlTp3h5wVu385uFVS1u22I/s320/images.jpeg" width="277" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-76858564771322193042016-11-29T13:40:00.001-07:002016-11-29T13:40:19.808-07:00See You In The Funny PapersI know I've already mentioned that I have a novella coming out in March, but this is the first time I've had a book contracted for publication before I was finished writing it. And since I just finished a big, big round of edits, it's on my mind.<br />
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Over the last two weeks, I have asked myself repeatedly why I do this to myself. Why write? Why send my baby out into the world for other people to tear apart, or misunderstand, or attack me personally because of the writing I've done? I love the craft of writing. I love making a story that was alive only in my head become alive to someone else. I cannot say how many times I've given myself pep talks, saying that even if people aren't very nice about their "constructive criticism" it is useful to me by helping make me a better writer, helping my story become the best it can be. <br />
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Even still, keeping defensiveness under my metaphorical hat gets difficult sometimes. I want to explain why my characters do things, and show people that I did explain it, or whatever the case may be. But what my defensiveness is really showing is that I had it all worked out in my mind and didn't explain it well enough for the reader to understand. And maybe it's just that one reader who didn't get it, but isn't that enough to reconsider the way I had it? (That doesn't mean I change anything, per se, but I definitely consider it.)<br />
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I say all this calmly and rationally now. Just don't talk to me about it directly after I hear someone tear apart my story. Evidently, I go a little crazy and need several days of eating potato chips and bashing my head against tables before sense returns and I'm able to approach my story again with something that resembles willingness.<br />
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And then I found this comic, which is pretty much how I felt. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPfVJBG_8ly3GEKJ8tnONempn6C_hnKDXu0F3Zsub1cploiWVJJ6H83WuxEDGULswqS0AwLu720x3zUCuEba1e1I9T0yILUCouWq4GucFQI2oL-3O4no82-kLEydLW3TJry4xbJJ_eJo/s1600/comichighlighting1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPfVJBG_8ly3GEKJ8tnONempn6C_hnKDXu0F3Zsub1cploiWVJJ6H83WuxEDGULswqS0AwLu720x3zUCuEba1e1I9T0yILUCouWq4GucFQI2oL-3O4no82-kLEydLW3TJry4xbJJ_eJo/s400/comichighlighting1.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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In my case, potato chips help get the green off.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-41926250475684451132016-10-31T16:06:00.001-06:002016-10-31T16:06:34.972-06:00Green With Envy (Or Ridicule)I just wanted to show you all what arrived in front of our house the other day.<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimud10aRXnGvynUldXITVuK5OgKWvRDPFbybm4cGKm_E3d8zA6hWSrj-v4UNk4ZWwNuJ__n-rzKfct-hVK7EUnQtHmaFsaiwqaalknXboTUCup7yxY-Si3Jo_02xFmg9N31bwHVYtRTJs/s1600/IMG_4783.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimud10aRXnGvynUldXITVuK5OgKWvRDPFbybm4cGKm_E3d8zA6hWSrj-v4UNk4ZWwNuJ__n-rzKfct-hVK7EUnQtHmaFsaiwqaalknXboTUCup7yxY-Si3Jo_02xFmg9N31bwHVYtRTJs/s320/IMG_4783.jpeg" width="239" /></a></div>
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That's right. My father-in-law was kind enough to deliver a handkerchief-sized bit of grass. My kids have had loads of fun spraying it with water, as though it might actually grow up to be a lawn.</div>
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Every time I drive up to the house, or have occasion to look out the front door, I either roll my eyes or laugh at how ridiculous it looks. Like we have delusions of having a putting green. Or we left a green blanket outside on the dirt. Or I tripped while holding green jello and dumped it there by accident. Or we have an unruly patch of moss (that is, coincidently, a perfect square).</div>
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Now just .45 of an acre more and we'll have a yard!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-2522956661166818932016-10-20T16:33:00.003-06:002016-10-20T16:33:51.535-06:00Boring vs. Bored<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For a blog my sister is starting, she asked me to write something about a day in my life. And after writing it all down, I realized something.<br />
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I am boring.<br />
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That got me thinking. Being boring is not the same thing as being bored. I am rarely bored. If I have nothing to do, I read. Problem solved. Although, to be honest, I usually read when I should be doing something else.<br />
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Writing or talking about reading is boring, not only to other people, but also to myself. <br />
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However, in my eternal quest to be a better person, I've decided I need to read less, be interested in all the things I used to do before reading pushed them out of my life, spend more time listening to my children talk about playing video games (talk about boring!), and generally try harder not to let my tiredness lull me into doing things that are easy. Because, as my last post brought home to me, my time on this earth is limited. I should use it wisely.<br />
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But I've tried to give up reading before and I remember walking aimlessly around the house for hours at a time because I was so bored. I'm fine with being boring, but I really don't want to be bored.<br />
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I can't be the only person that struggles with this: What is comfortable versus what is best.<br />
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Anyone have good advice about how to stay strong and suck it up and choose the right? Cause it would seem I need some.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-14476628942704909012016-10-10T13:59:00.000-06:002016-10-10T14:02:17.763-06:00My FriendThe first time I met Wilhelmina, or Wil, as she prefers to be called, was on a cold day at a beach in Wellington, New Zealand. She had made cookies for the only friend we had in common: Without a recipe. Who makes cookies without a recipe? Only the brilliant.<br />
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After that initial meeting, she invited me many times to her home. We ate dinner with our two families several times. We had more "sand"wiches than any person should need to consume as we solved the problems of this world while sitting on a beach watching our children frolic in the waves or build their own worlds in the sand.<br />
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When I was pregnant with my youngest child, she was the one I wanted to be there with my husband and I during the birth. Being very pregnant herself, she ran down the hill to the hospital in the middle of the night to be there.<br />
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She has mentored and helped more children as their caregiver than I can count, and has been there to relieve the burdens of more friends than she realizes. Her husband and four daughters love her dearly. As do I.<br />
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She recently lost the fight with four kinds of cancer, and her family can't make ends meet without her. Please click on the link below and give what you can to help this wonderful woman's husband and children. The woman I consider a sister.<br />
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<a href="https://givealittle.co.nz/cause/wil2live" target="_blank">For Wil</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-34206766464256416582016-10-04T09:04:00.001-06:002016-10-04T09:04:06.001-06:00Surprise!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6YzoC1G9m5i0tkATkogIIW9NOTd5jG0sCQaulV26bkfIwYvqVBBtBIRj10b2NKe6_I0VwTq7LumJFuBFuBaBYp_m7S5mN6o6S6u7JfZhc01pVaNu_hLzCEJg-tzqcWsCzU-aGzHA5Zuo/s1600/Unexpected-Love-Cover-978146211979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6YzoC1G9m5i0tkATkogIIW9NOTd5jG0sCQaulV26bkfIwYvqVBBtBIRj10b2NKe6_I0VwTq7LumJFuBFuBaBYp_m7S5mN6o6S6u7JfZhc01pVaNu_hLzCEJg-tzqcWsCzU-aGzHA5Zuo/s400/Unexpected-Love-Cover-978146211979.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Isn't that a beautiful cover? And did you notice the third name down? That's me. So, after years of trying to be published again, it's finally happening! <br />
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This is a compilation of four novellas, all put together for your reading enjoyment. The theme of each story is "marriage of convenience". I don't know about you, but I love those types of stories. In real life, marriages of convenience probably aren't all that romantic, but in fiction, they're great.<br />
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If you're interested in reading these four stories, you'll be able to around March 2017, just in time for Mother's Day (It'd make a great gift. Not-so-subtle-hint). Hooray for Mother's Day Anthologies!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4903125850687838282.post-55472094689906502342016-09-12T11:44:00.000-06:002016-09-12T11:44:05.306-06:00Sad Face Emoji<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is what my youngest son looks like every morning before I take him to school (This isn't a picture of him. I'm just using this image as an object lesson. Sort of.). Bless his sad little heart. Every morning, I hold him on my lap, which is getting too small to hold him, and ask what's wrong.</div>
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This is where things get murky. He says: He just wants to be home with me. He feels like he should be home. He wants to be homeschooled. He doesn't have a best friend to play with at school. School isn't fun anymore. And he says it all with those eyes that look sad enough to get me to agree to anything as long as he stops giving me those eyes!</div>
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I want to know what to do. I've talked to him about why he's feeling this way. I've asked him question after question to try and understand what the root of the problem is. We've prayed together before school. I've tried giving him advice, making a plan for the day, bribing him with treats. I don't know what else to do!</div>
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So, any advice? Any suggestions? All input would be welcome. As for today... I'm picking him up early from school because I'm a sucker.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0