CHROI AND ME

Sample Chapter - RUBY AND THE UNICORN

2012-01-29T11:49:00.001-07:00

Because I have a few half-completed blog posts fluttering around on my Blogger dashboard, and I am uninspired to finish any of them at the moment, and because it's been awhile since I've tempted you with a bit of my novel-in-the-works, and because I'm lazy, I'm giving you another peek into Ruby's world.

I hope you like it.

Chapter 8

Ruby pedaled, her boots wobbling double-time as she raced the clouds home. Big splots of water hit her head, and the downpour let loose just as she rode into the driveway, soaking her before she pulled into the open garage. An old blue pickup stood there, the hood agape. Ruby’s father, Dominic Fortuna, leaned over, a work light in one hand and the other reaching into the greasy depths of the engine.

“Dad!” Ruby shouted, excited and out of breath.

Dominic, surprised by the clamor, jerked his head up and hit it on the hood.

“Ouch! Oh, hey, kiddo, come give me a hand, wouldya? Here, hold this light.” He looked at her, noticing her fat lip. “What’d ya do, crash your bike?”

Ruby shrugged.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Ruby grabbed an old towel off his workbench and wiped the rain from her arms. Stepping on a stool, she took the light and held it above the engine. Her dad still wore his grungy work clothes, sleeves rolled up, and he smelled of machine oil and metal filings. She leaned over and sniffed.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, “I smell?”

“Nah,” she said, “I like it.”

“Hmmph. You’re the only one. Your mother says I stink.”

“Well, you do, kinda, but not in a bad way. You just smell like you.”

He laughed, “Thanks, kid.”

“Dad?”

He had both hands somewhere under the air filter and struggled to loosen a bolt. “Yeah?”

Ruby hesitated. It was one of those moments where she would usually chew on her lip, pondering the right way to say something she probably shouldn't. But this time she just felt the fat swollen lip and tasted the fresh wound. She’d raised this question a thousand times before, and it never went over very well.

“Are you sure we can’t have a horse?” She closed her eyes and held her breath, bracing for the answer.

He exhaled in exasperation, and gave the response he’d given every other time he was asked, “Yes, Rube, I’m sure.”

“But Dad,” Ruby complained, “I just saw the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen! Anyone’s ever seen! She’s from Ireland, and she belonged to some crazy Gypsy aunt of Molly’s, and Molly doesn’t want to keep her, and she has long white hair and these beautiful blue eyes and she’s perfect!”

“No, Ruby.” Was all her dad said.

“She looks like a Unicorn!”

Dominic wiped his hands on an old oily rag and took the light from Ruby. “I don’t care if it looks like the Queen of England, it’s a horse, and we’re not having any horses here. Period. Not your grandfather’s horse, not Molly’s horse, not any other horse you see on any given day. Now stop bugging me about horses. We don’t got the time, the money, or the room for a horse.” He wiped his brow, and closed the hood of the truck.

“End of discussion.”

That was that. Ruby knew when her dad said “end of discussion,” that was the end of the discussion.

She scowled at him and stomped into the house.

***

Santa's Elves - Caught in the Act!

2012-01-14T14:02:00.001-07:00

Here is a video of real-life elves at work! Sssh...don't tell Santa.

What a great video! Thanks to Carol, Rick, Sam, Lindsay, and all of the wonderful elves at

The Music Room!!

For more info about John's Christmas tree, read my previous post.

An Ode to my Brother...by the way, you smell.

2011-12-28T21:40:00.000-07:00

For the 5 people who read this blog, sorry I haven't written.
But what do you say when you don't know what to say?

You just say it, I guess.
My brother has a brain tumor.
I mean, how else do you put it?

Fucking cancer.

This is my brother John.

1970

1984

2009

When I was 5, John and I were playing in the sandbox. I was pissed at him for putting rocks in the sand, and he was pissed at me for putting Barbie in the Tonka truck. I said to him,

"I dont' give a..."

I paused, and then dared to say it:

"DAMN!"

John promptly jumped up, and ran inside to tell on me. I had my mouth washed out with soap. I can still taste it. To make things worse, we got the extra special treat of going to McDonald's for dinner that night (just think, it was a treat back then) and not even a vanilla milkshake could get the taste of soap out of my mouth. I think John felt guilty for telling on me, because he had no idea how severe and painful the punishment would be. Or how much he would have to listen to me bitch and whine about it. He patted me on the back.

And that's how big brothers are. One minute they're throwing you under the bus, and the next minute they're making sure you're OK.

Our younger years had alternating moments of fighting like cats, and then laughing hysterically. Riding somewhere in the car could either be complete torture:

"He touched me!"
"No, she touched me!"
"Move over!"
"When are we gonna get there?"
"He stuck his tongue out at me!"
"Stop it!"
"Mo-om!"

Or a contest to see who could keep a straight face the longest while the other made funny faces. It usually ended up with stuff flying out of our noses because we were laughing so hard, and our dad threatening to:

"...pull this car over right NOW, and you can walk to Grandma's!"

Which always shut me up because I had no idea how to get to Grandma's, and was usually wearing very uncomfortable shoes.

Then we went through a phase where we literally wanted to kill each other.

Normal, right?

Then we became friends.

It started right around the time when we both realized that our parents were going to split up, in our early teens. The funny thing is, even though we spent the rest of our lives apart (he with my dad and me with our mom, and then in different states), we've always been very close.

We haven't spent nearly enough time together. There was always going to be that time, you know, in the future, where we would have some sort of camping trip together, and hash out all the family bullshit, and have this totally immersing bonding session.

In no way could I have imagined that the totally immersing bonding session would take place in a hospital room after a meeting with a neuro-oncologist.

But we did. My brother, his wife Chris and I had an incredible roller-coaster of a week together. We laughed, cried, held hands, ate chocolate, and thanked god for the incredible ICU nursing staff at Evanston Hospital. My sister-in-law, her family, my parents and myself had a constant rotation so that my brother would always have someone in his room with him. I learned how to sleep on a waiting room couch, and the quickest route to the cafeteria. Thank goodness they had Starbuck's coffee.

John & Chris

Then when he got to go home, I busied myself with cooking, tidying and running errands so the two of them could relax. I cherished seeing them in their home. Sitting together and having a meal. Browsing through Christmas catalogues. Looking at all of the things that make them happy - their books, music and movie collections. Pictures of friends and family. Carefully placed model airplanes make with painstaking detail by my dad, and given as birthday gifts. Art made by nieces and nephews, in places of honor on the refrigerator door. I wanted to absorb it all, make it a part of a memory so that when it came time for me to go, this is where I can picture them from a distance. My brother's guitar in the living room, and drum set in the basement. The piano in the front room.

on their wedding day

We celebrated John's small victories, like being able to sleep for a couple of hours, or take a shower, or take a shit. Then, too soon, he had to go back to the hospital, in an ambulance, with a debilitating headache. This time, a different facility, and the care was not so nice, or professional. The doctor assigned to John was something out of a movie - on the worst ego trip imaginable, and not one shred of empathy. His nursing care was lacking in decision-making abilities and any type of follow-through, which resulted in us watching my brother going through the most gut-wrenching, heart breaking pain I've ever witnessed in another human being. My incredible sister-in-law Chris completely (and rightly so) lost her shit on that doctor, and read him the riot act that he deserved. I stood right next to her and backed her up as well as I could - not that she needed it - mostly by nodding and saying, "yeah."

getting ready for an MRI

Then my week was up. I had to say goodbye to them in the hospital. Thankfully he went home the next day, under new orders for levels of steroids that he'd been taking to quell the rate of swelling in the brain due to the tumor.

He's halfway through his radiation/chemotherapy treatment now, and goes through daily ups and downs. As the tumor reacts to the treatment, it flares up and pushes on different areas of the brain, causing different side effects. One day he went completely blind for two hours. His taste buds have gone wacky and some things that he really wants to enjoy - like beer - have a bitter or "off" taste. He'll have numbness or pain in his hand and wrist, which for a musician is particularly frustrating. He takes his chemo in the form of a pill, in the evening, and he says that in the middle of the night, he can feel his body reacting to it. It's hard to sleep.

We try to make sure to talk every few days. We check in with each other, the three of us, and talk about what's going on with him physically, what he was able to to that day, we talk about my kids, and about our parents and how well or not-so-well they are handling the situation. But mostly we just talk.

I have to say, my brother is an amazing person. He'll be the first one to argue against that. He'll say what an asshole he's been over the years to various people, or that he should've done this, or shouldn't have done that. But I don't see that. Maybe it's the nature of being the little sister, but I have always, ALWAYS, looked up to my brother.

He's an amazing musician - he started out playing the trombone in Junior High, then, listening to big-band records,
taught himself how to play drums (starting with one snare drum and a spare piece of carpet to pound on),
then, by monkeying around with various pianos, whether it be at church, school, or Grandma's house, taught himself how to play piano,
then had to have an incredibly patient woman (Holla, Sue Schiller) re-teach him to play properly and read piano music,
then went on to play guitar...he's one of those disgusting people that can play pretty much any instrument you put in his hands.
He worked his ass off,
put himself through college in his early 30's,
finally married the love of his life (took you long enough!)
and has been co-owner, teacher, and all around badass guitar specialist extraordinaire at The Music Room in Palatine Illinois, with his partner of 20 years.

His biggest joy as a businessman is helping a kid get set up with his first guitar. Finding the right fit, and seeing their faces light up when they strike the first chord. He's goofy as hell, a kid at heart, really, and just loves what he does. That's why everyone around John loves him.

The evidence is in the hundreds and hundreds of emails, texts, cards, posts on his Facebook page, and on the Caring Bridge site that Carol, his business partner and longtime friend, set up for him. Carol put out the call to their wide-reaching community of friends for a Christmas ornament drive, since John and Chris had no energy to haul out decorations, and on Christmas Eve, when the family was away at my cousins' house for family celebration, Carol and her boyfriend Rick, along with a host of volunteers,

set up a Christmas tree with hundreds of ornaments sent from near and far with love from everyone they knew, and cards with messages of hope and cheer for John's health and recovery. It was truly inspiring.

In closing, I'd like to add one more note. Our family recently suffered a loss in the death of one of our cousins. Second-cousin to John and me, he was just a bit older than us, and all in all, a pretty cool dude. Upon hearing the news, my brother wrote this:

Sometime between Christmas and New Year's, my cousin Paul died. Don't know the circumstances, don't know anything really. What I do know is that I never told him that he was the reason I became a drummer. He was older than me, just enough to be that really cool cousin (to my ten-year-old-brain). He had a Gold Sparkle Slingerland set that was just the bomb.
Paul was sickly all his life - although I never knew that. I never heard him complain about not feeling good - don't get me wrong, Paul will go down as one of history's greatest complainers - but he never talked to me about not feeling well. He'd complain about the same stuff I would: "Why isn't Phil Collins more known as a Drummer?"
We all have people in our lives that we owe debts of gratitude to; people with whom we've lost touch; people that changed us, and possibly we them. I want to ask you all to think about those people in your life, and reach out to them, somehow, before it's too late.
Paul died alone. Damnit.

In response to seeing this I have to say to my brother John:

You have always been my hero. I know that sounds SUPER cheesy, but it's true. I have looked up to you my whole life. I tried to be like you, but completely failed at playing any type of musical instrument (not for not trying), and joined choir because you and Chris and all of your friends were in choir. (shout out to Mrs. Keene) If Paul inspired you to be a drummer, you inspired me to be an actor. Actor? Yes. It was after seeing you in Guys & Dolls that I wanted to be up there, on stage, having as much fun. And when I realized music wasn't really my thing, I discovered that acting was. And through that, it led to my newfound love of writing, which I could not be more grateful for.

But other than that, having you as a brother, and observing you and your friends growing up, I was able to understand the male gender as a whole. As little kids, we got dirty, we played Army, or Cowboys & Indians. We shot BB guns and climbed trees. I wore your hand-me-down Toughskins and t-shirts, tried NOT to "throw like a girl," and listened in on your Dungeons & Dragons games with James & Droop. I wanted to be a Boy Scout, not a Girl Scout. We joked about gross disgusting stuff like boogers and farts and poop. I found out what guys liked and didn't like in girls. And that, while some girls are very pretty, and these are the girls that guys like to look at, they're not necessarily the girls that guys want to hang out with. I paid attention.

And now I live with three booger-fart-poop guys, and I dig it. I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to have a sister. Especially seeing Mom and her sisters' relationships, or that of my friends. But I'm so glad I have a brother. As a guy, you taught me what kind of girl to be, and, had it not been for growing up with you, and seeing how things affected you as a kid, I would not have been able to be the parent I am to my boys. I would not have been the same person, wife or mother if not for you.

I'm glad we have this crazy sense of humor and that we can laugh at things like brain tumors, and that our nicknames for each other revolve around some sort of fecal matter. That we can vent to each other about our fucked-up family, and laugh about that, too.

And I'm sure somewhere in your mind you are thinking you don't deserve any of the praise you have been getting, from me or anyone else. And you're thinking about some of the mistakes you've made over the years and wish you could take them back.

But I'm here to tell you that I would have you as my brother, as you are today, and I would not change you one iota, other than to take away your suffering. I wish you no pain, no remorse, no regret, and I wish you lots and lots of laughs. Laugh so hard that stuff comes out your nose.

Namely, that fucking tumor.

Most of all I wish and hope that we have many many more laughs together.

On a beach. Toes in the sand.

I love you.

...by the way, you smell.

Your little sister.

John

2011-12-01T09:24:00.001-07:00

This is my awesome brother John.

He is going through a rough time right now.

Please keep him in your thoughts.

More info coming soon.

The Real Deal; and A Sidebar on the Kardashians

2011-11-13T10:47:00.001-07:00

Do you ever have one of those days when you're just like, "Screw it."

Sometimes I feel like I'm always trying to impress people. You do it, too. We all do. It's the nature of our society. You suck in your stomach so you don't look so fat, you wear a particular type of shoe or drive a specific kind of car. You want people to think well of you, to like you, and say, "hey, that guy, he's doin' all right," in that Opie Taylor kind of way.

Big Phony from iamkoream, via Lifehack.
Click to read another great article

And by impressing people, I don't mean in that Kardashian* sense of painting this totally phony picture of happiness and success but is really just a shallow materialistic sham, ready to sell out to the highest bidder−I just mean that the average person, by nature wants others to perceive him in a positive light, whatever that means to the individual.

In reality, you pick your nose like everyone else, and sometimes you fart when you get up from the couch. That's the real deal. I mean, hey, sometimes you got a booger situation, right? Geez.

So, yeah, when I go to work, I try and look presentable. I mean, I don't spend 2 hours in the bathroom primping, but I do want to put on a little make-up and maybe brush my hair or something. But like, today...today I look gross.

celebrities without make-up: me and Chroi

I'm wearing an old ratty pair of jeans, a pair of slippers, the shirt I wore to bed last night and a sweatshirt that needs to be thrown in the wash. (And no bra!!! Ah, freedom.) I don't have any make-up on, my hair smells like a horse and my hands smell like sulphur, from this treatment I just put on Keira's mane.

Oh−and that's the other thing. I have two horses for sale.

They should be all polished and pretty and shiny, in tip-top showroom condition in case someone would like to come and take a look at them. Fina's doing fine, actually.

Her coat is coming in nice and thick and shaggy, her feather is long and straight, and she is really responding to her training: leading, backing, picking up her feet and walking over rails. Good girl!

And eating hair. Bad girl!

I noticed that after Fina was born, Chroicoragh and Keira both started to be missing some hair. Baby horses teethe, just like anyone else, and they have a tendency to sometimes chew off the mane and tail of their dams and the other horses around them.

before Fina

Chroi is pretty good about shooing Fina away−although her forelock is noticeably shorter−but Keira is too sweet. She'll stand there and let Fina groom her, and now a portion of her mane is completely gone. I didn't even notice it until today when I was out brushing them while they ate.

I haven't had the time lately to hang out in their stalls with them as I like to. It's such a nice, passive relaxing thing to do. I throw some hay down for them, curry them, scratch and brush and untangle manes and tails, talk to them and just let my mind wander. But lately it's like: throw the hay, give 'em a few scratches, and get back to whatever task it is at hand. So I didn't even notice her mane. Where there used to be a thick, full "double" mane (when a horse has so much hair it hangs over both sides of its neck), there is now basically nothing.

punk rock horse

Now this is where I'm supposed to pretend like nothing's wrong and my horses are perfect. (Well, they are−apart from the mane, but that's beside the point. :)

Tell them what they've won, Gene!

Well, Bob, it's A NEW HORSE!

Quite a few people, when selling something, whether it's a car, a T.V., or a washing machine, don't want you, the buyer to notice the faults. It goes along with the general mentality that it is easier to sell something that is perceived as being without fault. And I get it−hey, I've done it. But in this case I'm kind of in the mind set that with an animal, things happen. Foals chew on manes.

After Fina.

What're you going to do? Put in extensions? Hair grows back, just as Chroicoragh's feather has. And although Keira will temporarily look like a punk rock-chick with half her head shaved, her beautiful mane will eventually grow back, probably thicker, and more silver, than ever. I don't feel the need to pretend like, "Oh, my gosh, I didn't even notice!" or sugar coat it. It is what it is, there's no reason to lie about it or try to falsely impress anyone about it. She's an amazing horse either way, and whoever ends up with her is going to be damn lucky.

So, at the very least, know this: while I will cover my zits with make-up, and suck in my stomach, if you ever buy a horse from me, it will be an honest sale.

++++

*Sidebar on the Kardashians

With all the hubbub going on about the Kardashians, and one of my day jobs being "the magazine lady," as I'm known at the grocery store, being subjected to each and every gossip cover story as they are printed, and the speculation that surrounds each latest story, I felt compelled to begin this dialogue.

Personally, my take on this whole phenomenon is that I am equally captivated, disgusted and impressed at their expert manipulation of the media market. One minute they make me feel like throwing up, and the next minute I'm going, "Oh, her hair looks really pretty."

Obviously the Kardashians are an incredibly savvy group of business people, led by Mom Kris Jenner.

I would never dare to call them stupid. And obviously there is a time and place for what they are doing, because they are making millions and millions of dollars off the fact that we all find them fascinating. And who wouldn't? They are giving us exactly what we are asking for: an escape from our own lives, watching extremely beautiful people being as fucked up as we are.

The hook lies in the fact that we all delude ourselves that if we had that kind of money and power, we would somehow be above them, we wouldn't stoop to such drastic levels of behavior, we wouldn't sell out and we wouldn't be so self-absorbed and generally distasteful.

But the irony is that the very reason the Kardashians have such fame, power and wealth is because WE as a society are giving it to them. WE are saying, "Ugh you disgust me, but can I see more?"

And the reason that it drives us so crazy is we realize that the only difference between them and us is that they are going to their dentist appointment in a limo, and wearing platform heels. Like I said, they are just as messed up as the rest of us are, they just don't have a problem paying their electric bill at the end of the month.

And speaking of money, the manner in which the Kardashians win their audience is by virtue of

S-E-X.

Don't kid yourself. You might have sisters, and the show reminds you of your relationship with them.

You might have a good friend who is dating - or has kids with - a total douche.

You might be the girl in your family that doesn't get as much attention as your sisters, but you're the one everyone would rather hang out with because you're not as much of a snobby bitch.

You might even be "the pretty one."

But the reason we tune in to the Kardashians week after week is to see their hot bodies, glossy lips and miles of cleavage. We want to think that yeah, we ARE like them, so why couldn't we have what they have? Why couldn't we have a Roberto Cavalli gown, Christian Louboutin shoes and a personal trainer? We would rock the shit out of some Louboutins.

These are the ones I wear to Wal-Mart.

We want to see what they're wearing, how they did their hair, what kind of jewelry they have on, which car are they are driving, what mascara they wear, and their diet pill of choice. Because they just make it look so appealing, all shiny and sparkly and white-teethy and new.

It all fits, it all goes together, they didn't have to go to eight different stores to find it on sale, and bring in a coupon from the newspaper. It wasn't a hand-me-down from their BFF's closet clean-out. And they don't have the same fashion worries you do: that maybe the top you are wearing to your kid's parent-teacher conference is the same top you wore for work three days ago and you're hoping no one notices that you wore the same top twice in one week. But you really love the color, and the neckline is flattering on you, and you got it on sale at Target for $8.99 and it's the only new thing in your closet and you're sick of wearing the same old crap.

So you watch the Kardashians because you want new clothes, you want your hair to look good, you want people to think you are pretty, and you don't want to have to worry about doing your laundry, cleaning up the house, picking up the kids, going grocery shopping, getting the tires rotated, and what to fix for dinner.

But then we all complain about how much attention they are given. About how the media plays up the dramatizations, and how the Kardashian family just eats it all up and continues to make gads and gads of money off of it. (Reportedly $65 million this past year.)

And if they are making a living off of selling themselves; their bodies; their image and their name, what does that make them?

And if we buy their mascara, their diet pills, and their handbag, and we are basically saying, "here is some money, I want to buy you," we are paying them. WE are keeping them in business.

What does that make us?

I would LOVE to hear your comments.

**POSTSCRIPT: For a great interview with Kris Jenner, click here. Hey, I'm all about hearing all sides to the story.

I like: Creative Writing #2; Show, Don't Tell

2011-10-29T11:10:00.000-07:00

Have any of you writers out there have heard the critique, "Show, don't tell?" Upon hearing this cryptic comment did you say to yourself What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Telling vs. Showing

Photo: Declan McCullagh

Telling:

The cathedral was very big and beautiful on the inside. There was a lot of light.

Showing:

Upon entering the grand space, my footsteps echoed on the smooth marble. Rays of colored sunlight criss-crossed the aisle that lay ahead of me, specks of dust glinting and twisting in the soft current. Compelled to raise my eyes to the view above, I was rewarded with a vision of perfect architecture. Ancient beams and arches met each other in precise symmetry, and hand-leaded mosaics of tinted glass told the stories of the saints. My breath caught in my throat.

Do you see the difference? In telling, your voice is more passive, and you'll notice a lot of was-es. One of the very first things I learned from my mentor is to "get rid of those was-es." It was hard! :) But now I notice that when I take out a was and replace it with more showing, it makes my story better. It's also one of the first things I notice when I'm reading others' work. You have no idea how prevalent the passive voice is in some of today's best-selling novels. It can be depressing to read something that has been published, and is selling well, and realize that, while maybe you couldn't have written it better, the writer could have benefitted from a tighter edit.

Anyway, I'm not here to preach, I'm here to teach. The next time you write a page, get your red pen, and circle all of your was-es. Make it a challenge to see how many you can get rid of−it's not easy, but it will make your writing shine.

Here is my creative writing exercise from a "show, don't tell" session. (Warning: explicit language.)

Telling:

Peter shined his shoes, went to work and got fired.

Showing:

"Aw, fuck," exhaled Peter as he realized he'd just spilt coffee on his newly polished Giorgio Armanis. His $1700.00 Giorgio Armanis. And it couldn't be black coffee, no−that would be too easy. He'd just gotten it to the exact mixture of cream and sugar to make it taste perfect. He looked at his watch and took another quick sip of coffee, being careful not to spill it this time before he set it down. Checking his watch again, he hopped down the hall while slipping the Italian leather loafer from his heel and reached for an old towel in the closet. "God damn it," he swore as he tried to soak the sugary coffee out of the impeccable hand stitching, "Now I'm gonna be late."
And late he was. Hoping to avoid getting noticed as he exited the elevator, Peter tried to camouflage himself behind the heavy-set lady from accounting, the one with the big hair. But as he made the turn to head to his office of course he had to run into the firm's senior partner, Jack Mayhoffer (he he), and of course, in the process of stopping short, spilled coffee on Mr. Mayhoffer's silk tie. The tie that his late wife had given him on their last anniversary.
"Oh shit," said Peter.

See the difference? Now, my showing paragraph is an un-edited 15 minute exercise. Though rife with swear words, and an inside joke, it does much more than say "Peter shined his shoes, went to work and got fired."

Next time your writing seems to be lacking a little something, try showing what is happening around your characters, and how they react.

Don't just tell your reader what happened, show them.

More great writing tips:
Ingrid Sundberg
The Purple Crayon
Jennifer J. Stewart
Jill Corcoran

Just Pictures

2011-10-20T09:50:00.001-07:00

Well we are on the road again, this time to the north rim of the grand canyon. I'm playing with my new iPhone and blogging while my husband drives.
It's unbelievable to me what we can do with technology these days. Video calling and all the stuff we used to see on the Jetsons is here. Now all we need are floating cars and jet packs.
I really want a jet pack.
But until then I have to say I am pretty thrilled with my new iPhone. It's awesome. And now I will be able to take more video! As soon as I can figure out how to get the video from the phone to blogger, you'll see more of that.
For today, I'm posting some random pictures of dirty horses :) and all weekend I'll tweet pics of our trip. (twitter link on the right).
Have a great weekend!
Heidi

I'm Sending You Away...again

2011-10-08T14:51:00.001-07:00

I love you, but go away. Go! Explore, meet new people, read new blogs. I'll be waiting for you when you get back. Maybe I'll even make you some pot roast. Mashed potatoes? Yes, please.

One of the great things about blogging is that you get exposed to so many other blogs. Some are just OK, some consist of mostly advertising, but a lot of them are pretty awesome.

1. Will Write for Coffee

Your first destination, if you'll allow me some more shameless self-promotion, is to my friend Anne Tibbets's blog, Will Write for Coffee, where I have been asked to...drumroll please... guest post! I'm so flattered and excited! Not that it takes much to flatter me or excite me, but hey, I'll take what I can get. But as a writer, it's pretty flattering and exciting. This is my first foray into writing for someone else, please stop by and read:

Why You Should Attend a Writer's Conference.

Anne is a writer who has published two books: The Amulet Chronicles, co-authored with Erika Ely Lewis, and The Beast Call, her latest. She is currently working on a sequel to The Beast Call, and an edgy YA nail-biter, The Line. She also just happens to be married to a good friend of mine from high school. Yeah, we go back. I'm so excited for Anne as she builds on her momentum and gears up to be the Next Big Author. Just wait, I'll be able to say I told you so.

2. Everyday Life

Lyn is a teacher, photographer and artist living in West Yorkshire, UK. In Everyday Life, she shares photos that capture the beauty around her. Her images are simple, but she has a way of looking at things that makes you think if you were with her at the time, she'd point out some detail to you that you'd missed somehow, even though it was right in front of you.

Not to mention the fact that by showing me a part of the world I personally love, I kind of feel like I'm taking a little journey when I read her posts. She has a penchant for sunrises and sunsets, architecture, gardens and her cat, Lucy.

She and her husband take all these cool trips, from walks right around the corner to day trips around England, and this year to France. Lyn snaps away, and gives you a glimpse of something you'd never see if not for her eye or lens.

A few shots from Lyn:
(Clicking on each photo will take you to the original post)

Cool sites I've found through her site:
365 Project: take a photo a day to document your life
Big Huge Labs: do fun stuff with your photos; mosaics, posters, pop art and much more. Can't wait to play with this.

3. Moon to Moon and What the Moon Saw

I don't know much about this blogger, but she posts photos of the most cool, laid back hippie-gypsy interiors and images, and sometimes will include amazing songs that you forgot you knew and are so happy to recall.

If there's any bone in your body that inexplicably feels at home around the Bohemian, you will fall in instant, romantic, patchwork, vine-y, wooden, floating scarves and natural sunlight LOVE. This is just a small sample:

Here's one of the songs - Sisters of the Moon, by Fleetwood Mac (Tusk, 1979)

Free download.

I tried to embed it as a player so you could listen to it here first but I can't $#%*ing figure it out and I've been pulling out my hair. If you know how, please leave a comment, before I go bald.

So please have fun blog surfing. I hope you enjoy these little spots on the web as much as I do. One of the other great things about blogging is that your peers are very supportive. It's a nice community, another way of getting to know those who share our planet, and keeping in touch globally through common interests.

I wholeheartedly believe in the idea that if we support other artists, not only will this goodwill come back to us, but by sharing ART in general it enriches the lives of everyone around us, and will hopefully bring a sense of beauty and awe that will supersede the pervasive negativity that seems to be pushed upon us at every turn. To experience art is to experience love.

On that note, I'd like to share a video I found on another blog, Heart Shaped.

The story can be read here. Note: keep watching, you'll see what it's about.

Enjoy ♡

I enjoy reading your comments, please feel free to leave feedback. xo

I'm Sending You Away #1

I Like: Creative Writing #1

2011-09-21T23:23:00.000-07:00

OK, so here's the deal. I've got a lot of stuff going on. I really want to stick to my goal of blogging once a week, and I'm trying to not use ALL of my writing time on my blog. Have to get back to my novel! I've been going over some of my older critique group notes, my own notes and research, and I just can't let this story go.*

If any of my readers (and I know there's a few):
1) were horse crazy girls or boys,
2) are suckers for fairy and folklore,
4) own anything decorated with Celtic knotwork,
5) generally geek out at Renaissance festivals (Huzzah!),

The kids are so embarrassed.

6) love nature, adventure and
7) had a crush on your best friend's brother or sister, then this book is for you.

*Fate chimed in while in the process of writing this post. I had to run some errands, and while at the return desk of the library, a little girl walked up to the librarian, reluctant little brother in tow, stood with her chin resting on the countertop and asked "Do you have any Fairy books?"

I swear I did not make that up. This book has to get written.

So in order to conserve writing time while still delivering posts for you, my faithful readers, (I did it! I addressed the reader! There, I did it again!) some of my newer posts will be excerpts from my writing notebooks. I've accumulated quite a few over the past six years, and I've got a pile of material that I'm afraid I'll never get to.

So I'm going to share it here.

Much of it is incomplete, as in notes or ideas that were begun and never completed. And yes, everyone does that. No artist would ever have time to draw to fruition each and every one of their ideas.
The purpose of this is 4-fold:

to provide regular reading (be responsible)
to get out of having to think up and edit and photograph every post (be lazy)
to finally go through all of my notes (do research)
and hopefully along the way, I'll be able to provide an idea to someone else. (I'll play the muse)

Here is your first installment:

This is from the Scottsdale Library's creative writer's workshop on Fridays. Before I had to go back to work (yuck!), I moderated these meetings for awhile, and loved every minute. Creative writing workshops are a great way to get ideas flowing. You could arrange one with your study group, church group, library, or do it on your own. (Helpful links below.)

The writing prompt for this day was a picture, along with a question:

You hid something here a long time ago. What was it? Tell why it needed to be hidden.

You found something here today. What is it? Tell why you are here.

For those of you who would like to do this exercise, take 15 minutes to free write a response to the photo and one of the questions. Then continue reading below.

Ready set GO

Here was my 15-minute response:

8/15/08 The morning air being crisp and fresh, I decided to walk across the field⎯rather than take the carriage⎯to the small parsonage where my dear friend Charlotte resides with her husband. He sister is to be wed in June, and the two of us have been sewing linens for her table as a wedding gift. On my way, I cut across a glen which I had seen and passed by many times as a girl, but in the morning light, something caught my eye. ~~Vine covered ruins~~ Crumbling ruins, set upon by thick green vines. They look to have been hidden for many a hundred years by a massive oak that now lay prone on the forest floor, a victim of wood rot and heavy wind, I presume. I gingerly picked my way around the massive fallen soldier, quite ruining my hem in the process. How ancient the stone wall seemed. I figured it a relic of the ancient Romans that once invaded our shores.

That's as far as I got. I don't even know what my character found in the ruins! The suspense! Other than a few run-on sentences and a misplaced use of the word "they":

Crumbling ruins, set upon by thick green vines. They look to have been hidden...

Here, They appears to mean the vines, when my intent was to describe the ruins. Not to mention, the first sentence is incomplete. But the great thing about writing exercises is that you aren't editing as you go. The goal is just to bring forth an idea from which to build upon.

And yes, Austen fans, I believe at the time this was written I had either just re-read the book or viewed one of my favorite movies, Pride and Prejudice. And, no, my heroine would NOT have found a smoldering Mr. Darcy waiting behind that wall!

Not that there's anything wrong with that :)

Writing exercise links:

Susan Taylor Brown

Meredith Sue Willis

The above exercise was stolen from one of these two sites, but I can't remember which one. I will be happy to credit the source if and when I figure it out.

What are you doing? Go get your pen! Stop staring at Mr. Darcy!

Write!

For a creative writing meeting, all you need are willing participants, pen & paper, and about one hour or more. Go around the table and have members introduce themselves and speak a bit as to what kind of writing they are interested in. Give them the prompt, and let everyone write for 15 minutes. Then go around and allow the members to share what they wrote, if they wish. Then do it again with a new prompt. Your second round could be completely different, or build upon the first. And there are no rules other than to express yourself. Have fun!

**This post is dedicated to my friend Sara who inspired me to 1) Use a numbered list; and 2) Let my freak flag fly.

Thinking outside the box, or, Horse Trading

2011-09-09T01:30:00.002-07:00

I am so excited! I finally found a trainer to work with the horses! Yay!!

Our main focus, at first, will be Fina, since she is listed for sale, and since she is the least trained of the three horses, being a baby and all. Then, because I am contemplating offering Fina and Keira as a package to interested buyers (deal alert!), I'd like Keira to have some groundwork in place as well.

As of now, they are a mess. Well, maybe not that bad, but it's kind of like if you had your car for sale, and somebody came to look at it, and you hadn't washed it for a month and there were french fries stuck between the seats. It doesn't look that great to a buyer. But after a good washing and de-frying, it's good as new, right? My girls are in need of a little sprucing up, too.

I have to say - and yeah, I'm biased - they really are great horses. They are very gentle, sweet and inquisitive, and when someone who actually knows what they're doing is working with them, they respond quite readily to training. So why has it taken so long for me to get a trainer? Mainly: budget. The horses themselves are not expensive as far as upkeep is concerned. Other than hay, preventative care such as worming, shots, nutrition and hoof care really aren't too bad. But that's just basic maintenance.

But when you look at your check book, and see that you could either buy wood shavings for the horses' stalls or college textbooks for your kid; hire a horse trainer or make your insurance payment... well, you see where I'm going. And I don't want to sound like I'm crying about anything - we're very lucky to have jobs, health insurance, functioning cars, etc., but there's just not a whole lot of wiggle room in our budget right now.

So I started to think outside the box. I know there are people out there like me, who need services but can't afford them. So, what could I offer in exchange for horse training? What service could I provide in trade?

Well, while I'm no web guru or programmer or HTML goddess, I am pretty good with figuring out your basic do-it-yourself-type programs. I started out with my own website for the horses, www.WestCeltGypsy.com.

The first online program I used was Homestead, and that was a great starter for me. For anyone, really. It is very easy to learn and to use. But once I had figured it out and had my site built, there were more things that I wanted to do with it that I couldn't do with Homestead. That's when I bought my Mac.

Back then, the iLife software suite on the Mac came equipped with a website building program called iWeb, which for some reason has been dropped out of the newest version. I had an absolute blast building my site on iWeb. Sure, there are some things that could use tweaking, but for the most part, it's very easy to use and looks great.

Then I got into blogging, and learned a new format with Blogger. In addition to the blog you are now reading, I co-edit another blog with a friend of mine. Please check it out and let us know what you think: www.SeniorShareProject.com. In fact, Chroi and Me is actually a test blog - I built it in order to learn the Blogger format so we could properly get Senior Share Project up and running.

While I'm no bloggerstar like Pioneer Woman or Nathan Bransford (yet), after a year and a half, 51 posts and almost 3,000 hits, I'm pretty happy with my little "test" blog. I've learned so much along the line, and it's been great practice to help get me started on Senior Share Project, including using social media. I feel confident that I could help someone get started online, get them set up with a decent website that they will be able to maintain, a blog if desired, a Facebook page, and provide several trial-and-error tips regarding online marketing.

I placed an ad on Craigslist suggesting as much, and received a surprising number of responses. After weeding out which ones might work for me, which ones were serious, and which ones were just plain cuckoo, I found one that was perfect.

In the coming weeks, I'll introduce our newest team member and keep you posted as to our progress, both with the horses and with her website(s). As always, I'll fill you in on all the gory details - if I make mistakes (which I can all but guarantee) I'll let you know what worked and what didn't, to save you the trouble.

See you soon,

Heidi

Wildfire

2011-08-28T14:23:00.000-07:00

If you've been reading my blog for over a year (thank you!), you may remember a trip I took you along to one of our favorite places to get away, Arizona's White Mountains.

(click photos to enlarge)

It's simply amazing to us that we can leave our door in the hot, dry, dusty desert at temperatures in the 110s and up, drive for a few hours and be in one of the most pristine wilderness areas you'd ever want to see, surrounded by greenery and wildlife, a new rainstorm blowing over every afternoon, and temps in the fresh, cool 60s.

And you may remember the lone Ponderosa Pine in the photo above, also here:

And you may or may not be aware that a huge, devastating wildfire ripped through eastern Arizona earlier this year.

Along with being worried for our friends in the small mountain towns, we wondered: what would happen to our special place? For a while after the fire, we thought about going up, just to check things out, but were afraid of what we'd find.

A couple of weeks ago, we decided to go for it. It was a combo birthday weekend for my eldest son and I, and none of us had the energy for a big birthday bash, so we decided to celebrate with a relaxing family trip to our favorite spot. We crossed our fingers and hoped that it wouldn't be just a pile of charcoal.

We saw plenty of evidence of the fire as we made our way up the mountain.

Between the blue sky and the green grass stood dead, dead forest.

We were so relieved as we pulled into our camp spot that most of it had remained unharmed.

We set up camp, the dogs luxuriated in the cool grass and we went off to explore.

And soon found evidence that the fire had come through our area, biting off big hunks here, and leaving things untouched there.

I have no idea how one tree can burn to the ground, and the one right next to it, survive.

And what of our Lonesome Pine, you ask?

This huge tree, I don't know, maybe 5ft. in diameter, and over 100 ft. tall,

is now a relic:

before

after

This fire, to completely burn out the entire core of such a massive tree, must have been so hot, so intense...I can't even imagine it.

But...the grass is green. That means things are growing, right?

Yes.

One thing about fire is that it feeds the earth to nourish new growth. And the cycle of life begins again.

But the best thing that could have happened on this trip, besides the one fish we caught

Was the most unbelievably bright, huge and beautiful double rainbow* I've ever seen:

It was so close we wanted to look for the pot of gold.

And couldn't even fit the entire arc into the camera shot.

It was an awesome birthday.

On the wildfire:

The Wallow fire, the largest in Arizona history, burned Over 530,000 acres and 32 homes and cost more than $79 million to fight.

The two hikers responsible for the accidental start of the fire are Arizona residents, cousins both in their 20s. They could face up to six months in prison and fines up to $5,000 each. While I agree that people should be made responsible for their actions, I do not agree with "hanging" these two young men for an accident that quickly ran out of control, due to natural forces beyond their or 2,347 fire personnel's ability to contain.

While we use extreme care with our fires while we are camping, we understand that this mistake could have happened to us, or anyone else. The two cousins claim that they believed their fire was extinguished, but obviously a spark remained.

Instead of severe punishment, maybe the two could be used in a public-service ad campaign.

I mean, whatever happened to Smokey the Bear?

Only YOU can prevent forest fires.

Maybe having that mantra firmly re-planted in the American psyche could help prevent a tragedy such as this.

But if it's one thing I've learned from this weekend, it's that certain quotes ring true:

"Without the rain, there would be no rainbow."

Gilbert K. Chesterton

and that when you have a title for a blog post that reminds you of a song,

that song will be running in your head for days.

Enjoy:

"Wildfire" by Michael Martin Murphey

*and because I can't even say "double rainbow" with out thinking of this guy, here's the link:

Yosemite Mountain Bear Double Rainbow

Free E-Book!

2011-08-22T18:03:00.000-07:00

My friend Anne Tibbets's new book, The Beast Call is getting great reviews all over the web. And today, it is being offered for FREE on Smashwords!!

Here is the link to Anne's Blog where you can get the code. If you are reading this after August 22, not to worry, the E-Book on Smashwords is only 99 cents. Bargain!

Here is the short description:

Seventeen year old Dray is no ordinary human. But possessing a magical capability to talk to animals in a land where magic is feared, is dangerous.

For anyone loving a little magic, some animals and a kick-ass heroine, give The Beast Call a read. And if you don't have an E-Reader (Kindle, Nook, etc.) you can read it online.

Thanks for reading, new post coming soon.

Wish Book of Gypsy Horses for Sale

2011-08-02T18:15:00.005-07:00

Update! Read all the way to the end for sale news!
You know, I usually refuse to think of myself as getting old, but the changes that have taken place in the world over the years remind me that - well, according to my kids and technology - I'm old.

One such example is the Sears Wish Book. If you grew up in the 1970's, you probably received a Sears Wish Book every year. And by the time your parents took you to see Santa, that catalog had been flipped through, dog-eared and well worn. You'd gotten a chance to study each and every item in the TOYS section, crossed out the most unnecessary, put stars next to the ultimate must-haves, and had your list ready to go.

"Hey Barbie, get away from my horse. And give me that hat while you're at it."

So what do younger kids browse through nowadays? (Nowadays. What a dumb word. I might as well carry a cane and start saying "whippersnapper") Anyways, what is it - Amazon? Best Buy? Ebay? Etsy?

This whole idea of the Wish Book came to me while I was browsing the internet recently, looking at - what else - horses.

Schleich Toys Tinker Mare

Now, I am not a huge breeder by any means but as a part of the Gypsy Horse community, I do like to keep in touch with other breeders and owners and see who's doing what with their horses. Stallions get bought and sold and go to new barns, and it's interesting to see which mares get bred to which stallions, and the foals they produce. There are also plenty of mature horses for sale that are broke to ride or drive and ready to go.

(This collection is my idea alone, and these folks won't even know I've featured their horse until after this is written. I am receiving nothing from this except the pleasure of spreading the word. If you are interested in any of these horses, please contact the owner. Keep in mind this is a very small selection of the many horses available for sale.)

So, let's take a look at a few, shall we? (read all the way to the end for a surprise)

Gypsy Horse Wish Book!

Dugan, 2007 Black Blagdon stallion.

What a cutie! I am such a sucker for the blagdons, and I love a white face on a horse!

Contact Cheryl Lang

www.aislingfarm.us

New Hampshire

If you visit her site, make sure to click on Maddie's page, where you can read a great story about a girl and her horse! I'm thinking of hiring Maddie to come & train my girls ... :)

***

Lilly, 2011 Buckskin filly

Super cute little girl. She'll have a black mane & tail, and black ear tips.

Contact Victoria Patterson

www.ownagypsy.com

New Jersey

***

Desert Jewel Parker, 2007 Black mare with 2011 chestnut colt

Parker is a very nice black mare. Her sire is Desert Jewel's Lenny's Horse, the same sire as Keira and Fina. I'm a huge Lenny fan, and it's because he produces such beautiful, well-mannered stock.

Desert Jewel is where I purchased Chroicoragh and Siofra, and they have always treated us well.

Super nice people.

Contact Jennifer Gilson

www.djwwgypsyhorses.com

Arizona

***

SD Whistler, 2009 Blue Roan Colt

A great example of Roan! Isn't he pretty?

His owner, Sherri, operates the American Gypsy Horses website, and does a fabulous job of keeping track of everyone, maintaining the sales pages and making videos.

Contact Sherri Barnes

www.banderagypsyranch.com

www.americangypsyhorses.com

Texas

***

Silver Express, 2010 Black Silver Dapple colt

Very nice colt with unusual coloring, due to the desirable silver gene.

Out of a gorgeous stallion, Silver Bullet.

June Villa has gathered an impressive collection of stallions, including Romeo, Dalcassian and Taskin:

Contact June Villa

http://villavanners.com

***

THE BEST OF THE UK & IRELAND

***

Clononeen Lyric, 2004 Piebald Mare

When I see this mare, all I can think of is that song where the guy says

"Damn, girl!"

Sorry for the language, but look at her! Absolutely stunning.

Clononeen horses are always beautiful, and very well bred.

Chroicoragh is named for her dam, Clononeen Chroicoragh - you can still see Chroi's baby pics on their site! :)

I've always loved their horses.

Contact Brian or Deirdre Cash

www.irishcobireland.com

***
Platinum, 2005 Dapple Grey Stallion

Oh, Platinum, if only...

*sigh*

I am so in love with this horse. If anyone buys him and brings him to the states,

let me know just so I can come & see him in person.

I will bring carrots.

xoxo

Seriously though, The Vines family horses are some of the best of the breed.

Contact Michael Vines

www.vinesgypsyhorses.com

***

Bella, 2011 black blagdon filly

Holy cow, you could dollop some frosting on her,

put a cherry on top and call her Cupcake!

Is she the cutest little thing or what?

From the Coates Family, who bred Siofra.

They own another of my fave stallions, Oliver.

Contact Albert or Amy Coates

www.gypsyhorses.co.uk

***

Josy Mare's Filly, 2009 Black & White filly

Feminine filly with nice coloring - notice the two black ears poking out of the white mane. From the Downs family's famous stallion, SD Chief.

Another British family with an impressive breeding program.

Many more horses available, U.S. location as well.

Contact the Downs Family

www.dixiedownmeadows.com

***

Price Family Mare & 2009 foal

The Price family, located in Wales, has been home to some of the most renown

stallions the breed has offered.

Contact the Price family

www.welshgypsyhorses.com

***

This has been an extremely conservative list but for me to cover all of the horses and breeders out there I'd need another week of browsing...not that that's something I wouldn't enjoy, but my laundry is piling up, and the boys are looking at me with those poor hungry faces.

Lord knows they'd die if they ever had to feed themselves.

So if the above links weren't enough for you, here are a few more to check out:

Another UK breeder, who owned the famous Tumbler stallion

before he came to the US:

www.jamestaylorgypsyhorses.webeden.co.uk

An amazing page of Gypsy Horse links from Blue Moon Gypsies:

http://www.bluemoongypsies.com/gypsylinks.html

For Shires and Drums contact Kim Oest:

www.shiredalefarm.com

NEW! We are now offering Fina AND Keira for Sale!

Special package price if both fillies are purchased together.

Fina, 2011 Blue & White filly

Keira, 2009 Dapple Grey Filly

If you are interested in having your own little fairy tale, contact me.

www.westceltgypsy.com

Happy horse shopping!

Horse Drawn Wagons via Traveller Dave

2011-07-30T16:35:00.002-07:00

I'm currently working on a drool-worthy, eye-candy Fantasy pick of Gypsy Horses from all over. Until that's ready, I thought I'd share a site I found recently. These are photos of horse drawn wagons from a collection by Traveller Dave.

When asked for permission to use his photos, Dave ended his reply with this:

For those who live in houses, it's a romantic lifestyle...but day to day reality is very different & using modern roads amongst thousands of intolerant stupid car drivers is always a risk !!

cheers

dave

Thanks Dave. Keep on truckin' :)

Please visit Dave's site for loads more pics. Links at bottom of post.

Traveller Homes:

www.travellerhomes.co.uk

Horsedrawn wagons page:

http://www.travellerhomes.co.uk/?s=62

Traveller Dave:

www.travellerdave.co.uk

Normally I would have more organic links, and links from each picture to its url of origin, but Blogger is giving me some trouble. Hey, Blogger? You ever hear the phrase "If it ain't broke, don't fix it"?

It wasn't broken. Stop trying to fix it! Argh.

xo,

Heidi

Arizona Haboob

2011-07-13T20:59:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen a Haboob?

If you've watched the movie Hidalgo, you've seen a Haboob. There's a scene where they have to outrun a huge dust storm. I mean HUGE. You may have been thinking, "Wow, great special effects - that can't be real."

While the special effects were spectacular, I can guarantee you, storms like that are real. I saw it happen last week.

This is what it looked like:

This storm was over 60 miles wide, and reached a height of 3,000 feet. It engulfed the entire Phoenix metropolitan area, otherwise known as The Valley of the Sun. My oldest son and I were out running errands at the time it hit, and as it approached us, the cloud looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, a huge black monster eating everything in its path.

While haboobs are not uncommon for this part of the world, they aren't frequent, and as many Valley dwellers have remarked, never this huge. Most people I've spoken to said that they've never seen a dust storm of this magnitude before. The other strange thing about this one was the behavior of the storm.

Usually when you see an enormous wall of dust move across the desert, it is accompanied by fierce, gusty winds that make you feel as if you will blow over. First the wind, then the dust, blowing hard. Then there will be a strong downpour, dumping several inches of rain in a rather short period of time. And the before you know it the clouds are gone, the desert has been scrubbed clean, and everything has this wonderful damp woodsy-deserty smell.

And there will be a puddle in front of our house about the size of Lake Michigan. This is all normal behavior for Arizona monsoons.

But this storm had the creepy, eerie factor of just...hanging there. The wind stopped, and with minimal rain, the dust didn't have anywhere to go. It was like fog, only dry and gritty, and for days afterward, everything was coated in a fine powder.

The haboob reminded me of a movie I once saw about the dust bowl days, and in the film, this woman literally goes crazy because everything in her house is covered in dust; she opens the cupboard to get the dishes, and dust just pours out; there's dust piled up in the corners of the room, drifts of it.

And while our house didn't look quite that bad, it sure wasn't pretty. Especially when you throw in dog hair dust bunnies big enough to build a new dog...Am I the only one who hates doing housework? I didn't think so.

And sometimes during weather like this I look out at my poor little British equines.

Gypsy horses certainly weren't made for the dry, dusty, dirty desert. One of these days when I win the lottery :) I'll have a summer place with lush green pastures for them to frolic and skip in, with daisies in their hair. Until then, they'll just have to suffer through it like the rest of us.

I mean, a few months of unbearable heat is better than snow, windchill and below freezing temperatures, right?

Right?

Focus

2011-06-22T18:37:00.001-07:00

It's never been one of my strong points. I'm amazed at people who can choose just one thing, make that their prime concern, and follow one straight path all the way up to the top to succeed in that one thing. Examples are everywhere, but one that stood out to me recently is a guy named Jeremy Wade, who Animal Planet describes as an "extreme angler," which means this guy is really good at catching really big fish. Particularly those dwelling in rivers.

In fact, he's gotten so good at catching huge fish that he's been able to make a living at it. He goes all over the world, meeting incredibly interesting people, and helping them discover and catch the thing under the water that ate their cousin last week.

Now, that's a pretty specialized field of expertise. He started out with a zoology degree, taught school, traveled and wrote, and all the while had a curiosity to find these really big fish.

There are days when I would love to have that kind of focus. The problem is, there are too many great things I'd like to try. And some I'd even like to accomplish.

I've mentioned my creative side before. That creativity, coupled with a genuine interest in everything around me, or in it's simplest form, curiosity, produce what my dad refers to as a "Jane" of all trades and master of none. Well, he's got the Master of None part right, anyway.

(side note: this is part of the reason I love Wikipedia. They actually have a page about the saying Jack of all trades. From it, I just learned that I can also be referred to as a generalist -- another useless tidbit of information that might come in handy if you ever qualify as a contestant on Jeopardy!)

Anyway, back to focus (see what I mean??) Is it a type A/type B personality thing? Or is it just ADD? I wonder. You hear about focus in regard to athletes. They train vigorously night and day. Championships lead to scholarships, which lead to careers, then sponsorships and if they're lucky they can spend their retirement as network commentators. All because of focus in one specific area.

What causes someone like Michael Phelps (a specialist) to be supremely focused on swimming; training constantly, over many years, to reach a pinnacle matched by no other swimmer?

And someone like me to be so macro-focused as to want to try it all:

ballet
cheerleading
theater
yoga
bellydance
sky dive
deejay
paint
sew
write
blog
web master
horse owner
cook
wife
mom

I mean, does it make me well-rounded or just plain crazy? And what about all the things I have yet to do:

earn a college degree
world traveling
graphic design
wood crafting
screen writing
advertising (Don Draper, you're my hero)*
stand-up comedy (Kathy GRIF-fin!)**
star in my own show on the Travel Channel (it could happen)
write for Family Guy (or at least sit in on a recording session)
be a guest panelist on NPR's Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!
live in a little cottage in the woods, on the beach, with a pasture for the horses and a big red barn. And a studio. And a chicken coop. And a gourmet kitchen. (it could happen)
finish my book

The problem with being a generalist is that all of these interests and pursuits take time. I've never been fast at anything, and each new thing I want to do, i.e., build a website or blog, takes time to learn.
Time, research, and a few ...For Dummies books:

So, even though I don't have a full-time job, and people wonder why I am always so busy, it's because I'm teaching myself new things, learning more and more every day about the way the world is working nowadays, or trying to work, and what trends to follow, what to avoid, products and services that might be better or worse than others, while at the same time keeping up with the latest in publishing news - or trying to keep up, as the case may be, since the industry is changing more and more every time I see it.

I'm also trying to keep up with the everyday stuff, too - like everyone else out there. Taking care of my husband and two boys, housework (blah), laundry (double blah), and now that the kids are fully fledged teen males, more and more of my time is spent grocery shopping (eh), cooking (which I actually like), and cleaning up (which I actually don't like).

And in my free time :) I sew.

And because I always have a movie playing in my head:

*you have to say this in the voice of Cameron in Ferris Bueller's Day Off .

**you have to say this in the voice Kathy Griffin uses when she's imitating the way Oprah Winfrey welcomes her guests.

So what kind of crazy stuff do you do?

Little Stinker

2011-06-14T21:08:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, our first son turned one

He went to work with Dad

(yes, that is an Elmo clip-on tie)

Then we had two boys, and we went camping.

Yesterday, our boys had a first day of school

He caught a big fish,

went on vacation,

went to the beach

got his first elk.

Yesterday, he wore his first tux

shot a self portrait,

went on his first trip alone, and made a life-long friend

Took a goofy picture

took a Senior picture,

And then this young man who was a baby just yesterday,

Graduated high school.

How is this possible?

Isn't there some sort of rule that they're supposed to stay little forever?

And cuddle in your lap and ask for a story?

Something having to do with the time/space continuum?

The flux capacitor?

Peter Pan? Neverland?

Where's pixie dust when you need it?

And then,

the following week,

my baby called in the middle of the night

(2:00 AM)

and said,

"Put Dad on."

And we went to go get him, and this is what we saw:

That's his truck.

On its side.

That's the mailbox he hit.

See all those lights in the background?

That's about six cop cars.

There wasn't anything else going on.

But one of those friendly officers calculated that my son was driving about 9.7 mph,

when he veered up onto the curb while trying to swat away a moth.

#$%@ing moths.

He and his friend were fine, thank goodness.

He went to the neighbor's house the next day to fix the mailbox.

The mailbox is going to be OK.

The truck?

We're working on it...

Little stinker.

***

What's in a Name? Part II; Equine edition

2011-05-17T15:35:00.002-07:00

Read Part I Here.
Chroicoragh and Siofra came to me already named, and I loved both - feminine, fitting, and Irish Gaelic. Chroicoragh was named after her mother, Clononeen Chroicoragh:

Chroi was born in Ireland and came to the US on an airplane when she was six months old. Quite an education for a weanling, and maybe that's why she's so smart.

It's amazing how a sweet little baby:

Can morph into a full-grown, beautiful horse:

(yes, it's the same horse!

Read about gray factor here.)

Many people will change a horse's name upon taking ownership. Your Wildfire could be someone else's Rusty. This happened with our colt. I thought and contemplated and researched and stewed for days, trying to come up with the perfect name, and then I figured it out: Arthur. I absolutely loved it; classic, masculine, regal - heck, Arthurian. And it just happened to be my dad's name. Here's the little stinker:

He was the cutest thing - such a chunky monkey, and the wooliest little horse you ever saw. I can't wait to see pictures of him as he matures. He will be a fantastic stallion, lots of flash and attitude. The gal who bought Arthur is in east Texas, and changed his name to "Aubie," after the University of Auburn mascot. Some people think knights and legends, others think sports. But that's a prime example of names and meanings, and another of the many the differences between people.

Names are a popular topic among writers as well. When you have a story to tell, the characters involved have to be compelling; someone you reader can relate to, and a name can really help the character connect to the reader's heart.

Here's a few that come to mind: Holden Caulfield, Scout Finch, Elizabeth Bennett, Dorothy Gale, Bilbo Baggins, Harry Potter, Scarlett O'Hara, Sherlock Holmes, Lucy Pevensie, Jay Gatsby, Jane Eyre, Ebeneezer Scrooge (Does it get any better than that? Ebeneezer Scrooge?) Tell me there's not one character in that list that you didn't connect with somehow. And I would bet anyone reading this list could come up with at least ten more.

In writing my story, I have to say I was lucky when it came to my lead character's name, because her name and the idea for the story happened at the same time. It just came to me all at once, like a lightning bolt. The side characters have been even more fun to create, and when the name comes, it helps form the image of the person in my mind. As I write, I see them; their expressions and reactions, how they walk.

I'm like a little spy, up in the sky of their world watching it all unfold, and writing it down. It's actually a lot of fun. The hard part is when it gets foggy and you can't see what's going to happen next. Some people call it writer's block. To me, it's just a fog, a slight mist perhaps, that I just can't see through quite yet.

But the naming of anything, whether it be babies, horses or fictional characters, is something that deserves a fair amount of thought and consideration. I usually have a pretty good idea of at least a few names to try. But this time around I was stumped. What to name this little creature?

For some reason I was drawn to floral names (Daisy, Blossom, Buttercup) but none of them fit. She's very feminine - leggy and graceful, and sweet. I'd always liked the name Serafina, but it just seemed a bit much. Besides, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner stole it. I even thought of Violet, since both of her eyes are blue, but the Afflecks stole that one, too. Buggars.

I also like the idea of sticking with an Irish name, but I figured it's enough to have one difficult-to-pronounce, non-phonetical name. I have always included a pronunciation hint for Chroicoragh's name (Cree-Core-ah), because it is a very unusual name, and because I can't stand it when I don't know how to pronounce something. J.K. Rowling drove me crazy with Hermione until she finally gave us a clue on how to say it: Her-my-o-nee.

People can get kind of carried away with the whole Gaelic thing, though. Don't get me wrong - I LOVE it. I love all things Celtic. But for these purposes, it's a little like salt. A bit of it is fine, for flavor, but too much is just overkill. I've seen breeder pages where every horse's name is some sort of ancient medieval spelling of a name that no one has any clue how to say, and then they don't even give you a pronunciation for it. Drives me crazy. Sjkjdhefb - there's my horse's name. It's pronounced "Jim."

Okay, why not just call him Jim?

So, in naming our newest filly, I wanted Irish, but not too crazy with the spelling, a nature name, and something feminine. When I knew Serafina wouldn't work, and I found the name Fina at namenerds.com, I knew we'd found our name. Irish for vine, it's different enough without sounding stupid, and easy to pronounce. Done.

So, Fina it is. I think it suits her, don't you?

If you or someone you know is on the hunt for a name, here are a few sites I found helpful:

http://www.namenerds.com - Irish, Welsh, Scottish, and other unique names.

http://www.babynames.com/character-names.php - A great page from babynames.com, on naming fictional characters.

An interesting article Concerning the name Fiona

Just for fun:

Irish name generator

Pirate name generator

Fairy name generator

And, Finally, when doing all of this searching around for names and their meanings, I came across this YouTube video of a band called Late Night Alumni performing their song, "What's in a Name?" The singer has such a beautiful voice, and the topic was so fitting, I thought I'd share it with you. I think artists nowadays need all the help they can get, when trying to get the word out.

Enjoy:

I Like: Music

2011-05-09T18:39:00.001-07:00

Don't worry, I will get back to the name game, but I wanted to introduce a new category on my blog:
I Like.

Things I saw, read, heard, tasted or clicked, and liked enough to pass it on.

Check it out:

If you're one of the few people who've never heard Adele's Rolling in the Deep, take a listen. It only takes one time to love it. It's infectious.

Now meet this same song, remixed three ways:

Rolling In The Deep (Ben Samples Remix) from ThisSongIsSick.com
Great version if you are having a party with lots of people, a real house-crusher that you see in teen movies where the sole goal is losing your virginity - that type of party - but the cast is a little older, and a little more cosmopolitan-cool, and most of them have already gotten laid. Put this song on and turn it up LOUD. Awesome pop-dub-techno track. No one will get bored listening to this thumper. The girls closest to the stero will be grooving their hips in that way when you just cant help moving your body, so you just pop a few beats out while engaging in casual conversation, and flip your hair a little. So, put the cuties by the speakers. (free download)

Rolling In The Deep - Mike Posner from freshnewtracks.com
Same party, about four hours later, half the people have gone home. Only the cool kids are left. Everyone's relaxed, mellow, and getting acquainted. This track features a male voice singing the song. You're picturing him, some mellow dude hanging out on the old corduroy couch in the basement, flipping through your mom's old collection of vinyl LP's, he's got the headphones on, listening to Adele and singing along. Everyone else in the world sounds like crap when they sing along to the radio - I'm slightly worse than Julia Roberts singing Kiss. But this guy is the exception, giving a smooth, flavored feel to the song, with a really great backbeat. Again, play it loud. The kind of loud where you have to lean in a little to hear the person across from you. (free download)

Rolling In The Deep (Avicii Remix) from freshnewtracks.com
The house music version. High heels & short skirts, strobe lights & fog. This is the one you'd expect to hear in one of those clubs in Vegas where you have to wait in line for 2 hours to get in, the music is so loud you can't think straight, and a trip to the ladies' room involves serpentining your way through the sweaty, bouncing crowd. And you love every minute of it.

Now go dance your ass off. Even if you've never been to Vegas; if the closest you'll get to high heels & short skirts is chore boots and your old Levi's, if the last time you were at a house party was 25 years and three kids ago, turn it up & get the living room floor dirty. Dance around the kitchen and sing into your spatula.

I have to give credit to my son for finding each of these versions. He's music crazy and finds all the remixes before I've even heard the original. He's pretty awesome.

http://www.adele.tv/
www.freshnewtracks.com
http://thissongissick.com

Disclosure: This is not a paid endorsement, just stuff I think is cool.

What's in a Name? Part I

2011-04-28T15:14:00.001-07:00

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

So says Juliet. But do you think that sometimes people reflect the nature of their name? I guess that's why the task of bestowing a name upon another living thing is so difficult. It has to fit. A good example of this: Could you imagine naming your sweet newborn baby boy "Brock?" It seems a bit much for a tiny baby.
But look at Brock Lesnar:

I mean, he just looks like a Brock, doesn't he? He completely grew into his name. I can't imagine him being called Joey or Bernard, can you? Would he have grown into a UFC Heavyweight champion if his name were Francis Dingle? Maybe. Maybe not.

I've talked before about the associations with my name, Heidi. As a little girl, in my little-girl way of thinking, I always considered Heidi to be a kid's name. I wondered what my name would be when I became older and finally got a grown up name. It must have been that Shirley Temple movie. Forever preserved in her cherubic, albeit black-and-white state, I couldn't imagine her "Heidi" as a grown-up wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase like the lady in the Enjoli commercials, who so exuberantly professed her ability to Bring Home the Bacon and Fry it Up in a Pan.

Her name was probably Marcia or Shelley or something blonde and sexy like that.

But however age limited I saw my name to be, probably my biggest impression of it came from one of my favorite books - the Little Golden Book version of Heidi:

This version of Heidi, though predictably blonde, was always skipping around barefoot in fields of wildflowers, frolicking with goats, wind blowing her hair.

And Happy.

I think that's the main reason I came to really like my name. Heidi is a happy name. Just as Brock is a strong name, Heidi is a happy name.

Bestowing a name upon someone or something is fun, interesting, and tough. The hardest part about having my children (besides labor!) was deciding what to name them. Would I have a Brock or a Francis? What kind of person did I want them to be? Does a person's name help develop their character?

The challenge is to come up with something that is different without sounding odd; unique but not obscure.

Like Maddox Jolie-Pitt. Is it the haircut? Or the constant swarm of paparazzi? Or the fact that he thought he hit the jackpot when his mother, Angelina Jolie, plucked him out of horrible poverty in Cambodia, only to then have to share her with Zahara, Shiloh, Pax, Vivienne and Knox? (Not to mention the adorable Mr. Pitt.) Or could it be his name? Maddox. Either way, this kid always looks pissed to me.

Today I met a lady named Ione. I complemented her, and she thanked me with enthusiasm. She loved her name. I'd only ever heard it pronounced as eye-OH-nee, but she pronounced it eye-OWN. She said, "I don't loan, I don't borrow, I own." It sounded clever, and it was her way of owning (no pun intended) her name.

But where do the names come from? If you're named after a rock star are you then expected to be musical? Or a literary figure - if your name is Sawyer, are you adventurous? What about Darcy? In Jane Austen's novel, he is brooding, dark and handsome. But other than Miss Austen's hero, have you heard of any guys named Darcy?

Part II; What's in a name? Equine edition, next!

Only the Good Die Young

2011-04-19T11:42:00.000-07:00

Last week, while we were still in the happy afterglow of new life, my husband's family suffered a tragic loss. A cousin he and his siblings had been close to in childhood passed away suddenly and unexpectedly.

There have been a few subjects mulling around in my brain for my next blog post, but after an event like this, they all seemed inconsequential. I felt the need to honor this woman's life, if but for a moment. I can't say I knew her well; her family is located in another state, and visits with them were infrequent. We didn't have any sort of relationship beyond annual family gatherings and the exchange of Christmas cards. But she was the type of person instantly liked by anyone who met her. She had a great sense of humor and loved to laugh. We shared the same name, and the lighthearted joke when we were introduced was that I was the "other" Heidi.

Heidi greeted everyone with a warm smile, a warm hug, and when she asked "How are you doing?" she meant it. One of the most genuine and unpretentious people you'd have the pleasure of knowing. My husband has great memories of growing up and spending time with her and her sister, and his siblings, all hanging out as cousins.

For many years, she taught school and enjoyed every minute of it. One of those rarities - someone who actually loved her work, and it showed in the more than 2,000 visitors who came to show their respects at her wake and service.

Her greatest treasure was her family, especially her kids. A devoted daughter, sister, wife, and most importantly, a mother of two, an undetected health issue took her from this world earlier than any would have imagined. She will be greatly missed.

Please keep her family in your prayers, and hug your own.

Oh, Baby!

2011-04-10T13:42:00.001-07:00

Here she is, folks!

Meet Fina!

I thought I was prepared, but this little stinker decided to surprise us. I'd been checking Chroi every night, all through the night for a week to make sure we wouldn't miss the big event. Then on Tuesday, she started showing more promising signs. The area around her tail became soft, almost jelly-like, and she began "waxing." Waxing occurs when droplets of colostrum dry on the udders and form a bit of a build-up, like wax dripping from a candle. By Wednesday evening, milk was flowing pretty steadily from her udders. Some mares don't wax at all, and some will wax up to a month prior to foaling.

But when Chroi had Keira, she waxed the day before, and boom! Foal:

The night Keira was born

So Wednesday night, I didn't sleep much, waiting for this new baby. I'd get up, put my slippers on, wander out to the barn in my jammies, peer over the fence, and... nothing. Then Thursday morning when I went out to feed, Chroi was just standing out in her stall as usual, waiting for her breakfast, calm as can be, with that baby still securely inside her big round belly. So I threw some flakes of hay to her & Keira and headed off to a doctor's appointment with my son.

While we were gone, my neighbor went to check on Chroi and left a message on my cell phone: "You've got a drop-dead gorgeous filly over here! She's black and white and has two blue eyes."

So we rushed home, and this face greeted us:

She had just stood up.

What's amazing to me is how, minutes after being born, a new foal will get up and immediately begin the process of trying to nurse.

She uses her whiskery little muzzle, trying to find the right spot...

Not quite...

wrong end...

A little help from Mom...

Success!

Her curly hair.

She's all legs.

Newborn horses, like newborn babies, are a little gawky and awkward at first. But they get all cute and fluffy in a few days.

We're so happy to welcome our newest family member!

I think she takes after her dad, Lenny.

WestCelt Fina

Overdue!

2011-03-31T07:28:00.001-07:00

Well, our due date came and went, and I'm beginning to wonder if she's going to have that baby! Pretty soon she'll just look like a hairy snowball with feet!

I guess a little late is better than early, especially for the baby. If I remember correctly, Keira was a little late, and she was nice and healthy, and ready to go.

So we'll see how the next few days go. I'll keep you posted. I still haven't been able to come up with any names for the baby.

Fred? Susie? Martha? Jimmy?

Hmmmmm.........

The Home Stretch

2011-03-21T01:40:00.000-07:00

It's a little after 1:00 AM, and I just went and checked on Chroi. She's not due for another eight days, but I figure we're in the home stretch. She could deliver early, and there's a storm front coming in from California tonight. Arthur and Keira were both born during a rainstorm, so I'm paying close attention to her as the barometer drops.

But she looks OK, I think she's still got some time left. Although, she is showing that she's more uncomfortable - shifting her weight, and laying down to nap. And she's quite bitchy with Keira, too, chasing her off and not wanting anyone to mess with her.

Oh I remember those days! When I was pregnant with my first, by the end of the term, I was so miserable; puffy with water weight, my feet were so swollen that none of my shoes would fit; the skin on my belly pulled so tight I thought it would pop, and no matter how hard I tried I could not get comfortable. Like sleeping on top of a watermelon. I finally took to walking around the mall, for miles it seemed, just to kick-start my labor and get it all over with. Little did I know it was the last time I would ever have peace and quiet.
Just kidding. Peace and quiet is highly overrated, I'm sure.

But I can relate to the crabbiness. When you're fat, puffy, and uncomfortably carrying a watermelon in your belly, you can get a little crabby. Keira better look out, 'cause Mama's not having any of it. Chroi's watermelon is more like one of those giant squash-pumpkins you see at the fair in the bed of a pickup truck.

Ugh. Poor thing.

Midweek Mish Mash

2011-03-16T13:09:00.002-07:00

Well, folks, I have a few different things I want to let you know about, so I'm giving you a Wednesday quickie! ;)

1. Books!

First, I have to do some friendly promotion. My friend and mentor, Deb Ledford, has just released her second novel in a series.

Deb was one of the first people to encourage me to write - not only that, but to take it seriously, and to treat my writing professionally. I am indebted to her for her guidance and enthusiasm regarding all aspects of my writing, as are the other members of the Scottsdale Writer's Group, of which she is the moderator.

I was honored to have been a part of Deb's editing team, and proud to see my mentor reach her goal of publication. And now, as a cherry on top of her sundae, not only is she published, but has been honored with an award nomination! For anyone out there who likes a good, tight mystery that keeps you up at night turning pages, please take a look at Staccato and Snare, by Deborah J. Ledford, available through Amazon, Kindle, and Second Wind Publishing.

The first, Staccato, is a thriller set in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina, and follows a piano prodigy as he pieces together the clues to find his girlfriend's killer, and the deputy who is trying to solve the case.

“Deborah J Ledford's thriller tears through mountains and music with a steady rhythm in perfect time with the maestro Alexander's music room metronome ... as readers turn STACCATO's pages, quickly, crisply, sharply throughout Ledford's Toccata-like virtuoso performance.”

~ Malcolm R. Campbell, 5 star review: “Knight of Words” Book Reviews

The second book, Snare, follows the same deputy, Stephen Hawk, as he helps a Native American pop star find the person who is trying to kill her. Snare has been nominated for the Hillerman Sky award:

"Performed against the backdrop of the picturesque Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina, and New Mexico's mysterious Taos Pueblo Indian reservation, SNARE is a thriller fans of Tony Hillerman will appreciate."

"White-knuckle suspense at an electrifying pulse." ~ Suspense Magazine

"Deborah Ledford's expertly crafted SNARE is a gripping story of the price of fame and the haunting and deadly power of long buried secrets. It’s also a valentine to the landscape and people of New Mexico’s Taos Pueblo. A terrific read."

~ Dianne Emley, L.A. Times bestselling author of Love Kills

They are both great reads and I highly recommend Staccato and Snare for you and the readers in your life.

In today's tumultuous publishing environment, getting a book sold is more difficult than ever. Please support up-and-coming authors. I have provided a link to published friends on my left sidebar.

Disclosure - I receive nothing for promoting Deb's books, other than good karma.

2. Update!

Second I wanted to give you an update on Chroi's icky dermatitis condition. It had gotten to the point to where it was bothering her so bad that she was kicking her foot on the ground, and hurt herself. I think she bruised her hoof. Yes, that can happen. None of the idiot home remedies that I tried worked, and the itchiness and scabs just got worse. So the vet came out, and his recommendation, which I had feared, was to clip her feathers.
I know. Ugh.
So here's what a Gypsy Horse looks like with shaved legs:

who wears short shorts?

Awww.

Luckily we just had to clip the feathers on her hind legs because she didn't have any issue on the front legs. In addition to clipping, I have to wash her legs with a prescription-grade anti-fungal shampoo, and gave her antibiotics twice a day for five days. If any of you ever have to give your horse medication, here's a good method:

dissolve the tablets in a couple tablespoons of water,
mix with a couple handfuls of sweet feed (oats and grains mixed with molasses)

to make it extra yummy, follow Mary Poppins' advice, and (see below)

add a generous spoonful of brown sugar.

For Chroi, this worked so much better than trying to force the medicine down her throat - she actually loved it!

So she's feeling much better, her infection is clearing up and even though she's lost some feather, it will grow back. And she still looks pretty.

3. Baby Watch!

Which brings us to our next subject: BABY!!

Chroi is due to foal in two weeks! She's getting super fat, uh, I mean, great with child. As we get closer to the delivery day, her body shows signs that she will be ready:

Udder filling up with milk (already happening)
"waxing" of the teats, which just means some of the milk is starting to flow.
softening of the pelvis, right above the tail
slight decrease in appetite, which is a big one, especially for a pig like Chroi. When she's not hungry, I know something's going on!

I will keep you posted. Last time we had babies, they were both born during a rain storm, so we will also be keeping an eye on the weather.

Now, I just have to think of a name... any suggestions?

***

Chroicoragh is a perfect example of how "a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down." I loved Mary Poppins as a kid. We had the soundtrack on vinyl, and used to sing along to it all the time. I miss the days when Disney just wanted to put out great films. And I mean how can you top Julie Andrews? She's the best. Enjoy!

Stats

2011-03-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

Have any of you seen The Social Network? I highly recommend it. Not only because I am just a teeny tiny bit of a computer nerd, but as I'm sure you've heard by now, it's just a really really good movie.

I'll let you form your own opinions, but the one thing that stood out to me as I watched the film was a scene where one of the characters said to Mark Zuckerberg, "you got 22,000 hits in two hours? Wow."

And all the computer-nerd-blogger in me could think was: Wow.

The night Mark Zuckerberg created Facebook in his dorm room at Harvard University, the site generated
twenty-two thousand hits in two hours.

A "hit," or pageview, is recorded anytime someone downloads your page. For instance, since you are reading this post, you have generated one hit on this page.

When I first started blogging, there wasn't an easy way to see how much traffic your site was getting. But then Blogger released a new feature called Stats. It's totally awesome. Here is what I see when I go to my stats page:

I can see how many visits I've had in a week (or day,month, etc.)

which posts are getting the most hits:

where my traffic is coming from (how people are finding me, i.e., did you find me through Google, my website, facebook, or another blog?)

I can also see what part of the world my readers are from, and what operating system they use:

How cool is that? What's up, Pakistan! Hello, China! Cheers, UK! Bon Jour, France! Slovenia? Who would've thought?? Malaysia? Come on! And of course my buddies up north, eh?

The thing I love about stats is that it tells me that all is not lost. I am not alone. My parents are not the only ones reading my blog (hi guys!) And it propels me to do more. It's kind of like crack. I see some hits, and I want to see more. So I keep writing.

So thanks to everyone out there in the world who wanders onto my blog. I hope you like it. I hope you find it worthwhile to come back. And I hope you tell your friends about it.

I may not be a computer engineer on a college campus getting 22,000 hits in two hours, but I am totally psyched to see this when I open my stats page:

Yay!! We hit the 1,000 mark!

Thank you.

Training Day

2011-03-06T12:46:00.000-07:00

I was contacted recently by some folks from Canada who were in Arizona for a winter break. They'd never seen Gypsy Horses before, and were eager to come by and see our girls. We had a very nice visit - I mean, have you ever met a Canadian you didn't like? :)

I let Keira out of her stall, to let our visitors watch her trotting and running around the yard like she usually does, but she was so interested in our visitors that all she did was go from one to the other, sniffing, getting scratched, and munching carrots.

So I thought we'd go over to the round pen to maybe show off a little, and I let one of the guys, David, try her out. This was the first time she'd ever lunged off a line (I usually work with her at liberty in the round pen), and she did great! She was so curious, and motivated to please. It's so fun to work with your own horses, but such a pleasure to be able to observe from the outside and see how they interact with others. I was so proud of her!

Thanks to George, Mary, David and Gabby for coming by, for the lesson, and sharing the video with me.

It's 2:00 in the morning...

2011-03-03T02:26:00.000-07:00

Why am I up?
Well, in the process of writing my next post (about blogging), I realized I was using an awful lot of blog terminology that some of my readers (Yay! I have more than one!) may not be familiar with.

I know that when I started writing my blog, and figuring it all out, I would come across terms like blogroll and follow. I didn't know a post from a comment, and I sure didn't know what RSS meant. Well, to tell you the truth, that one's still a little foggy to me, but onward.

So I Googled and read my ...For Dummies books, and slowly got familiar with all of this blogology. But I thought I'd make it easier on you, so I made a Glossary page!
Wait, you have to say it in the Oprah voice like she's giving away free Lancome or something...ready?

GLOSS-A-RY!!

OK, much better. Sorry, but it's late and I'm a little punchy. For a multitude of reasons (Horse, Kids, School, Work, American Idol) two o'clock is the time of day when I have nothing else going on and can actually concentrate on writing.

So do me a favor, check out my Glossary of Blog Terms page, and let me know what you think. Hopefully it will bring clarity to those of you new to this medium. Feel free to shout out a term you've been hearing but don't know, and I will do my best to find it for you. It will be added to as need arises. I also plan on adding a Glossary of Horse Terms page in the future.

Now, due to the severity and frequency of my typos, and the frustration of constantly having to correct them, I feel the need to retire to my bedchamber.

So farewell and goodnight!

I Like His Thinking

2011-02-23T16:02:00.000-07:00

Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson

(click to view larger)

Dream big, I always say.

Pastern Dermatitis in Feathered Horses

2011-02-20T15:19:00.003-07:00

Feather is the long hair on draft horses' lower legs, that flows down around their feet. It adds a certain amount of beauty and grace to an animal so large and muscular. To see a draft horse in action is truly breathtaking. Just look at the popularity of the Budweiser commercials:

I've always loved those Clydes! So beautiful and powerful. In fact I was drawn to Siofra because she reminded me of a mini Budweiser horse.

But that which gives the draft horse its elegance can also bring trouble. A common problem among feathered horses is pastern dermatitis, known by several names, including mud fever, scratches or greasy heel. Chroi has been suffering with this for a little while, but the symptoms she shows do not look like the examples I've seen. I've tried a few different treatments, and searches on the internet will result in any number of remedies. Most therapies center around treating the condition as a fungus problem. The long hair draws and holds moisture, like a paintbrush. Keeping the feather and skin dry is one of the main cautions you come across when researching the condition. Well, being in the desert, keeping dry is usually not a problem. In fact, the dry air, dust and dirt cause problems for my horses' feather in that it breaks off in the front - you can usually see it in pictures:

So I kind of thought I was spinning my wheels when it came to treating Chroi's dermatitis as fungus. In doing more research, I came across an article written by Dr. Gregory Ferraro at the UC Davis Center for Equine Health, specifically as it applies to draft horses (most other articles are aimed at common "light" horses). The article had some great information in it, but was slightly outdated - I figured there might be new findings, and emailed Dr. Ferraro, on the outside chance that A. He might answer, and B. He'd be able to figure out the problem from an email. I described the scabs on Chroi's lower back legs, and the fact that she constantly itches, bites and rubs them (breaking off more feather - ugh!), and sent him this lovely image:

I was pleasantly surprised when Dr. Ferraro emailed me back, with the suggestion that if Chroi is itching and rubbing so badly, her condition is most likely due to mites. He recommended using Frontline spray to first get rid of the mites, and then tackling the skin condition. Since I am a bit of a freak when it comes to research, and I like to try homeopathic remedies before resorting to toxic chemicals (especially, as I said, she bites at the areas on her legs, and she IS pregnant, so we want to avoid ingesting harmful toxins), I thought I'd see what I could find that would get rid of the mites. I came across a few interesting ideas, and I will let you know what I found that works. Wish me luck! And, if any of you readers out there have had similar problems with your horses and found a great solution, please leave it in the comments section.

Thanks!

*UPDATE* see how Chroi's doing after the vet's visit. Click here to see her shaved legs: Midweek Mish Mash
*UPDATE #2* So, turns out that it was NOT mites. My vet said he'd never seen that type of problem here because it's so dry. The only thing that worked was the fungicidal shampoo that you can only get through the vet. But the good news is that Chroi's feather is growing back nicely and it seems like she feels better - I don't see her biting and scratching like she was before.

If you have a horse with this problem, I hope my experience helps you find a solution. Good luck!

Love Is...

2011-02-14T18:45:00.001-07:00

Love Is...

Finding your soulmate

your first dog

Sharing Chocolate cake

Spending your honeymoon camping

We couldn't afford a big trip

But we didn't care

...Finding out that it wasn't really an "all-day flu"

Taking your kids on adventures

Birthday cake frosting

Playing in the snow

Elk hunting at Thanksgiving, and

flirting with your guide ; )

Finally getting that honeymoon,

and bringing the kids

Having a fight,

and getting over it

Boys

Good times

Birthdays

First cars

Sleeping in the shade

Love is...

going to Costco in your jammies with your husband
because while he wants to surprise you with flowers,
He also wants you to hang out with him.
And who wants to go to Costco alone?
So you pretend to browse through the books
while your he picks out your Valentine's bouquet.

Love is...

Almost 20 years of memories.

Happy Valentine's Day.

♡

Looking Forward and Looking Back

2011-02-07T01:24:00.000-07:00

As we head down the home stretch toward the birth of a new foal, I can't help looking at Keira and being amazed that it's already been two years since her birth. She's growing into such a beautiful young mare, filling out nicely and showing promise of everything you'd look for in a Gypsy Cob.

In much the same way, I've been noticing all the little kids I see; so many babies and toddlers helping their moms shop in the store, leaning just far enough out of the seat in the grocery cart to reach candy so temptingly placed in their path; or my 1½ year-old nephew, who has a new talent every time I see him. One day he's drooling over his sippy cup and the next day he's walking - no - running all over the place, giggling and playing peek-a-boo.

It seems like yesterday that my own two little monkeys were perched in that grocery cart playing with whatever contraband they'd plucked off the shelf, or running around living room furniture, playing hide-and-seek, and giving me those long-lashed flirty blinks that my nephew now sends blushingly over to my sister-in-law. The look only a little boy could give to his mother that says it'll be a long time before he's in love with anyone but her.

I see these little ones, and I'm instantly transported back in time. You know, you never appreciate anything while it's happening. It's only after the moment has passed do you realize how special it was. When my boys were small, people told me all the time, "Enjoy them while they're little, 'cause it goes by fast!" And here you are: still haven't lost your baby weight, haven't had any sleep, constantly covered in some sort of baby slime, your little angel is screaming his head off, you haven't had a minute to yourself in ages, and you roll your eyes thinking: Not fast enough.

And the next day you're taking your son to tour colleges. He's getting ready to graduate high school, has a job and his own car. Answers every question with "whatever" and can text 80 words per minute. Your youngest is riding his dirt bike down the street, much to the chagrin of the neighbors, listens to everything from the Beatles to Led Zeppelin on his ipod, and surfs the web looking for a cool drum set and a Ferrari to haul it in.

The same little boys would curl up next to you in bed, begging for just one more story. Beamed with smiles if you showed up to help in their class at school. Cranked up your old Phil Collins CDs and played air guitar with your kitchen broom. Convinced you that this time the goldfish from the school carnival would live longer than a week.

It used to be Blues Clues, and now it's Step Brothers. They used to get excited over a new box of crayons and a jar of bubbles. Now everything is stupid, they tell each other to shut up, and see who can fart the loudest.

But if I've learned anything, it's to appreciate even these times. Bickering, eating like pigs, hip-hop music, pants worn too low, homework battles, messy rooms, Jersey Shore and constant references to bodily functions. Yes, >sigh< even these moments are special. Why? Because while today I am wistful for the days when my boys were toddlers, and the mere sight of a two-year-old playing with a balloon makes me weep, ten years from now the sight of two fighting teenage brothers will probably have the same effect.

I can't believe how fast it's gone by, I cherish the present, and can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring. I just wish it would go slower.

But wait...I started this post with my horse. How did I end up in a blubbering mess about my kids? (And I am a blubbering mess, believe me. It's not pretty. Be glad you're not here right now).

It's cyclical, I guess. Maybe that's why clocks are circular. Everything goes, and then comes back around. Your baby horse growing up will remind you of babies in the supermarket that remind you of your kids growing up. You will cry. And then a new baby horse will be born. And it will all start over again.

Keira decided she needed to be born in the middle of a rainstorm at two in the morning. It was simply an amazing thing to behold. Within minutes, she was up and walking, and bonding with her mother. Such a cool thing to see, and we can't wait to see how this year's baby will enter the world.

And to all of you moms and moms-to-be out there, cherish each moment, 'cause it goes by fast!

Basketball, Swedish Meatballs and swearing with your father

2011-01-31T00:58:00.003-07:00

This weekend one of my projects, besides the continent of laundry that has piled up, is assembling a new portable, adjustable-height basketball hoop. As I unpacked the box and saw all of the little parts, big parts, and list of tools I would need, I thought of my dad.

Now, a do-it-yourself type of task around the house, i.e., replacing a kitchen faucet, hooking up the stereo or any kind of "adult assembly required" product which looks so good in the store displayed (fully assembled) under bright lights with a sale sticker, comes packaged in a very large box, its many components neatly styro-foamed, twist-tied and plastic-baggied; well, these projects -- as anyone with a practical, do-it-yourselfer, Italian-American father knows -- require A LOT OF SWEARING. The kind of swearing you usually have to pray about in church the next day.

This basketball hoop was going to need some swearing before it got done. And it's more fun when you have someone to help you swear about it. You know, one of you reads the 300 pages of poorly written instructions, the other one misinterprets what you say, you argue about which thingamajiggy goes where, swear some more, at some point the manual gets thrown across the room, that little vein pops out in your dad's forehead (this also applies to Irish fathers), and three hours later you have something which almost resembles the picture on the box, shrug your shoulders, say, "Well, at least it's done," and go have a beer.

And in this time your mom/stepmom got all the laundry done, made a whole batch of cookies and cleaned up the kitchen. She's just thankful you kept him out of her hair for the day.

Unfortunately, my dad lives a thousand miles away. So in this case, I call him, tell him I need him to help me with the tools and the swearing, and we have a good laugh. Then comes the inevitable question:
"What're you having for dinner?"

There's something about moving away from home. Yeah, you miss your family, friends and different places. You talk about the weather. But it always comes back to food.

I said, "That's the other reason I was calling about." Midwesterners tend to end sentences with prepositions. We know it's wrong. We're rebels without causes.

"I've got two pounds of ground beef thawed out, and I have no idea what to make,"
I mentioned that I was thinking of meatballs, but not spaghetti-and-meatballs, something different. My stepmom suggested Swedish meatballs, and proceeded to read me the recipe from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. Meatballs fried in butter with a cream gravy. What's not to like?

I looked up the recipe in my Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook, which just happens to be my Grandma's copy, from the late '50's. Funny how they stick that "New" title on every year. So you'll see a twenty year old version at a garage sale, and somehow think it's New? But my "New" cookbook didn't have the same version as my stepmom's "New" cookbook, so I did the next best thing: Google.

Thank you, Alton Brown. The meatballs were delicious!

What food do you miss from back home, and does your family swear as much as mine? (In my dad's defense, his language isn't half as bad as mine!)

Finally, as Jon Stewart says, here is your moment of Zen:

By the time we got the #@%* basketball hoop up, the moon had come out.

Spaghetti-Ah Sauce-Ah

2011-01-21T00:18:00.001-07:00

This weekend, I am running away. My wonderful husband gave me an awesome Christmas gift this year - I'm going to Vegas to see CHER!! And no boys allowed, either! Just me and my amazing friend Jeanette. We always have a good time together, and we're both ready for a little reprieve. No laundry, no cooking, no cleaning, no running to Wal-Mart. So while we are rocking out to "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves," you can make something yummy for your tummy.

The name for this recipe comes from the way my great-grandmother, Nonna Ida (ee-dah), pronounced things - Spaghetti-ah Sauce-ah. She was the quintessential Italian grandmother. Made everything from scratch, gave the most bosom-squishy hugs, loved all of us, and didn't take any crap from anyone. She even did that thing where they throw their slipper at you because they can't get to you fast enough to give you a smack. (She never did that to me, I was of course a little angel who never did anything wrong. Or maybe I was just the right amount of scared of her. I think it was one of my cousins or uncles who got the shoe. If I had to guess, my cousin Michael or Uncle Marc.)

This may not seem like a quick recipe, but it has saved me more time over and over again. And by now, it’s easy for me to make since I’ve done it so often. Once you get everything in the pot, all you have to do is boil some pasta, and that’s it. And I make enough to have leftovers the next day - cook once, eat twice! It’s my family’s favorite.

This recipe has been handed down in my family for generations. We all put our own spin on it, and here's how I make mine:

(I have to apologize in advance for my food photography. Haven't quite figured that one out yet. Besides, I have yucky fluorescent lighting in my kitchen. If you have any photo tips, I'd love to hear them.)

Ingredients:

Olive Oil - Extra virgin, baby.

1 large onion, chopped

3-5 cloves of garlic, peeled, smashed, and chopped

1 carrot, shredded

1 stalk of celery, chopped fine

2 lbs. lean ground beef (you can do half beef and half sausage for richer flavor, or ground turkey or chicken to keep it on the light side. It’s all good.)

1+ Tbsp Italian seasoning

about 1-2 tsp kosher salt (start with 1, then add to taste after all ingredients are together)

fresh ground black pepper

a small dash of cinnamon

1 can tomato paste (I use Contadina or Progresso)

¼ - ½ Cup of red wine

Fresh Basil leaves, if you have them (julienne and throw on top before serving)

2 large cans whole peeled tomatoes, in juice. This is the secret! You have to use the whole peeled tomatoes - before adding them to the sauce, chop them (not too chunky, not too thin) in the blender, food processor, or right in the can if you have a stick blender. If using a blender or processor, drain the tomatoes first, but save the juice. The whole tomatoes make the sauce taste FRESH. Make sure the canned tomatoes are packed in juice, not in tomato puree; puree will make it thicker, but the taste is not as fresh.

So, get a good, heavy pot and heat it over med-high heat, just a couple of minutes. Add Olive oil. (If it smokes, the pan is too hot and you will burn the garlic. We do not want to burn the garlic! Take the pan off the heat so it will cool) Throw in your onion, carrot, and celery, and saute for a few minutes, then add the garlic. You can add a pinch of the salt here to loosen up the veggies. When they are translucent, add the meat, and let it brown. When the meat is almost done, add the spices. Rub the dry Italian seasoning together in your palms as you add it; this will bring out the aroma. The cinnamon should just be a tiny shake. Half a pinch, at most. It flavors the meat, but you don't want it to taste like cinnamon, got it? Okay, when the meat is brown, turn down the heat just a notch, and add the tomato paste.

Stir it into the meat, and mix it all up. After a couple of minutes, it will go from a reddish color to a brownish color. This is when you add the wine. Ahhhh! It smells so good! Stir it up (little darling), and scrape the bottom of the pan. It will deglaze the pan, and cut the acid of the tomatoes. Then add the tomatoes with their juices. Let it simmer about 20-30 minutes. You can leave it on low while dinner is being served, in case anyone wants seconds. Make sure you pour a glass of wine for yourself, to taste while the sauce is simmering. This is very important. ;)

If you have a rind of Parmeggiano-Reggiano in the fridge that's all used up, you can throw that in the pot while it's simmering. Also, at the very end, if you have any fresh basil, tear that up and throw that in, too, if you like it, or, simply, on each serving. If you like mushrooms, save a bit of the onion, and saute the mushrooms with the onion in a separate pan, and add to the sauce with the tomatoes. Otherwise they will get all broken up when you are stirring the meat.

This is my basic sauce for everything from spaghetti to lasagne. I always use Barilla pasta. Cheap stuff gets too starchy and gummy. Make sure you put plenty of salt in the pasta water, otherwise the pasta is too bland. Stir the pasta right after you put in in the water, so it won't stick together when cooking.

We always put butter on the hot pasta after it's done.

This, like I said, is a family recipe, but it's taken me 19 years to perfect it. I'm sure it will get changed many many times more on its journey, and I hope the hungry souls trying it out along the way will rub their bellies in warm satisfaction. Let me know how your family likes it!

Mangia!

(Eat-Ah!)

PS For a yummy garlic bread, get a fresh crusty loaf, and cut it in half lengthwise. Take half a stick of soft butter, and mix in some fresh garlic, smashed as much as you can, and chopped. (smashing it releases the juices) Spread this on the open faces of the cut loaf, sprinkle with a bit of parmesan cheese & chopped parsley. Put in 400〫oven about 10-15 min til it starts to brown around the edges. Yum!

Cher loves Spaghetti.

I was born in the wagon of a travelin' show
My mama used to ~~dance~~ COOK SPAGHETTI for the money they'd throw
Papa would do whatever he could
Preach a little gospel
Sell a couple bottles of ~~Doctor Good~~ SPAGHETTI SAUCE

Gypsies, tramps and thieves
We'd hear it from the people of the town
They'd call us gypsies, tramps and thieves
But every night all the men would come around
And ~~lay their money down~~ EAT OUR SPAGHETTI

Picked up a boy just south of Mobile
Gave him a ride, filled him with a hot meal OF SPAGHETTI
I was sixteen, he was twenty-one
Rode with us to Memphis
And papa woulda shot him if he knew what he'd done (HE ATE ALL THE SPAGHETTI!!)

Have a good weekend!
With love,
Heidi

My Pretty Ponies

2011-01-16T00:38:00.001-07:00

They say curiosity is a sign of intelligence. If that's true, Chroi must be a genius.

She's always got to see what's going on.

Here she's taking advantage of a recently delivered pile of dirt, so she can see over the fence.

I think she's just as curious as the rest of us as to what the heck the neighbors are doing to their house.

Doesn't everyone have one of those in their neighborhood? The house that no one can explain, and never gets finished?

Climbing down is not quite so graceful for a pregnant lady. Oomph!

You never know what you'll find behind the rakes and shovels...

Keira reminds me of that line in Forrest Gump:

"From that day on, if I was ever going somewhere, I was running!"

She runs and trots everywhere.

Sometimes I feel bad that I don't do more with my horses. Shows, parades, just getting out.

But it's nice to get in the round pen. They love the attention. They might not always like what they're asked to do, but they respond well. I think Chroi would look lovely pulling a cart. She has such a flowy, graceful trot. Keira's trot is very springy, prancey-dancey.

She's fancy.

My mom's name is Nancy.

I can't seem to get any good pictures of Keira trotting. As soon as she sees me she stops. It's that singing frog thing again.

I don't seem to have any problem getting shots of them eating, though.

Or of their butts.

Lots of butt shots.

Chroi and Keira have no problem with this angle.

A Gypsy Horse is supposed to have a nice, round rump. It's something to be proud of.

Kind of like Kim Kardashian.

If she were a horse, she'd be a Gypsy. She even does the same pose. Sheesh.

To tell you the truth, I feel happy just watching my horses.

My pretty little horses.

Storm Coverage, Atlanta

2011-01-12T13:12:00.001-07:00

As a mid-week treat for you, I thought I'd share this video from Jackson Pearce's blog:

I've been a little obsessed with this snow storm that hit the south this week, and how all those Southerners are handling it. This is exactly the type of story I've been looking for. Enjoy

How to Develop a Website, or, Shameless Self Promotion

2011-01-09T16:27:00.001-07:00

Heidi: Wouldn't it be awesome if we could do something for work, besides work?

Eileen: Work sucks. We should do something meaningful; some kind of project together.

Heidi: Yeah, we should. We'd kick ass.

Eileen: How about something with Senior Citizens? Old people are awesome. They've led such great lives, and have so much to teach us, but it all gets lost. Hey, wouldn't it be a cool idea to make a book of people's family memories?

Heidi: Yeah, but that takes too long. Besides, I'm already working on a book. I know, let's make it a blog!

Eileen: What's a blog?

Heidi: (groans) You're kidding, right?

Heidi: So this is what we have to do: Open a Blogger account, and then start the blog. Easy.

Eileen: Yeah, but how do we do that?

Heidi: I don't know, let me do some research...

(buys Google Blogger for Dummies)

(starts reading LOTS of blogs - see list at left)

Heidi: I think I need to experiment with the platform, just to get used to it. I've wanted to start a blog about my horses anyway. Let me play around with it a little.

(CHROI AND ME is born. Posts 1-2 times a month. Learns format, keeps reading other blogs to see what works (pictures, humor) and what doesn't (too many pictures, too much text). Gets a follower (yeah!). Starts posting weekly, talks about it on Facebook, gets 6 followers (Super yeah!). This process takes almost a year of quietly plugging away in my -ha ha- spare time.)

Eileen: Ooh, great picture! Who is that?

Heidi: I don't know. Isn't she awesome? I found it at this site called Stock xchng (by user t. rolf.) Another useful web resource. We'll be able to use photos from there to illustrate people's stories.

Eileen: Cool!

Heidi: Yeah, and we'll have a group on flickr, where photographers can submit photos for us to use as well.

Eileen: Why would they do that?

Heidi: Well, a lot of very talented photographers are just starting out, and need to get their work out there, to be seen. They'll send people to our site, to showcase their work, and we'll link back to their gallery or home page, to direct business back to them.

Eileen: Can we do that with other businesses, too?

Heidi: Of course! It's called a Link Exchange.

Eileen: Well, I love it.

Heidi: Me too.

Eileen: OK, now that we have our site up, how do we get people to go to it?

Heidi: We just have to start spreading the word. I can ask a few people in my writer's group for stories.

Eileen: We can get business cards, that way we can tell people about it when we're shopping, or at church. Well, when I'm at church anyway.

Heidi: Ha ha, yeah, pray for me, would ya?

Eileen: I already am.

Heidi: You and my mom. Anyways, cards are a good idea. I have a lot of regular customers at the grocery store who are Seniors, and they're pretty cool.

Eileen: I read about a Senior Expo coming up.

Heidi: Great idea! We can network. And we'll have to email everyone we know, and post it on Facebook. We need a Facebook page, too.

Eileen: Great! Now let's make a list of things we need to do.

A List:

Create a cover letter explaining our mission statement
What we're about; how keeping up with technology can help Seniors stay active, and connected to their friends and family
Connect with other Senior Citizen social networking sites
Assisted living homes and Senior centers offer computer classes and workshops
Caregivers can help Seniors stay active in their community
Offer link and/or banner exchanges or advertising to businesses that cater to Seniors
Heirloom memories, preserved for everyone
Enjoy bringing people together by creating a community network
Inspire discussion, interaction between Seniors and those who care for them and provide an online resource
Give back, by donating a portion of ad revenue to a (TBD) charity, once SSP is profitable.

Readers, you are our best resource for getting the word out. Senior Share Project is something we've been working on for awhile. We wanted to take our time with it so it would be something we could present to you with pride. We wholeheartedly believe the fact that our elders are one of our most under-appreciated assets. Senior Share Project is meant to spark discussion, bring generations together and get people to know and appreciate those who came before us.

You can get started today!

Next time you see your Favorite Old Person, ask them one simple question:

"What's your story?"

email your stories to: seniorshareproject@gmail.com

and visit the site for more info, or to read a story:

www.seniorshareproject.com

Thanks so much for reading and for your support. Please tell your friends, and send us your stories!

Heidi and Eileen

Next week: back to the horses!

New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-01T17:03:00.004-07:00

Let me start by saying I dislike the idea of "Resolutions" for the New Year. I prefer to think of them as goals. A goal is something you strive for, look ahead to, work toward. A resolution just seems more... foreboding. You are resolving to do this. What happens if you don't? Dark clouds form above and lightning strikes your head? Rumpelstiltskin sneaks in and steals your first born? I'm always thinking of consequences. I don't know, maybe I'm a bit of a commitment-phobe.

But on the other hand, when you have a goal to work for, the consequence is that you reach your goal. Unless of course you don't reach your goal, but then nothing happens and your first born stays right where he is.

So for me, personally, I like to have a few goals for the new year. Which isn't to say that I'm not inspired by other people's resolutions. A fitting example can be found in the comments of this PW post.

Oh, and the Bransfordonians are having at it as well! Read on!

My Goals for 2011:

Have Chroi and Keira professionally trained. After baby comes, that is! :)
Attend a yoga class more often. I recently discovered Yin Yoga*, and it is awesome; think deep stretching. (*if you can't find a Yin Yoga class near you, there is a great DVD available Here.)
Post at least once a week to this here blog.
Launch my second blog, Senior Share Project: a partnership with my friend Eileen. Check it out! If you have any special Seniors in your life (and you know you do) you'll love it.
Write more online articles. Click here to read my review of the movie Burlesque.
Get my eldest to college. Ugh, a biggie this year.
Get my youngest into a music and/or sports program.

And my biggest personal goal this year (drumroll please):

FINISH WRITING MY BOOK!

Ok, there it is. Yes, I am writing a book. I have been kind of quiet so far, only a few people know about it. The reason for this, as many writers know, is that once you tell people you are writing a book, then every time you see them, they'll ask you, "Hey, how's that book coming?" "When do I get a copy?" or "Hey, I thought you were writing a book..." And then you have to go through all the excuses as to why you cannot whip said book out of your briefcase and point to their name on the dedication page: "Uh, I'm still working on revisions..." "I've got a few queries out..." "I'm still looking for an agent...know any?"

I don't even carry a briefcase.

So my excuse is that I am still writing my book. Fifteen chapters and counting. But I am coming out of the writing closet, so to speak, and announcing it to the world (or to you, my four readers) that I AM writing a book, and hopefully my public acknowledgement of this will hold me accountable for the fact that now I have to finish it, that I cannot go another year planning on someday, when my book is finished... No, this is my signal of commitment.

I, the commitment-phobe, am offering you the proverbial diamond ring and promising to you that I am going to finish this book, and that one day, after I find the perfect agent for a partner, who will find the perfect editor, and after hours and hours of labor we will give birth to two covers filled with many many pages of gripping adventure, a healthy dose of fantasy, a dash of romance, and a fulfilling conclusion, all wrapped together with a nice neat character arc.

Will you read me?

Not quite ready to say "Yes?" I understand. You don't know enough about this book. You're not ready to commit. What if it's a Vampire-Time-Travel-Alien-Western-Noir, and you're just not into that? Well, to further educate and entice you, my novel-to-be is a low fantasy (set in the real world, with elements of magic) adventure for 12-15 year old readers.

The story was inspired by my dear Chroicoragh, during a visit out to the barn on a stormy night. My aforementioned friend, Eileen, always referred to Chroi as a Unicorn, and after a particularly impressive lightning strike during the storm, whose electric energy must have sparked the idea, I looked at Chroi and thought, "Hmm, what if you really are a Unicorn?"

And that's how ideas are born. Lightning and magic.

To even further entice you, here's an excerpt:

RUBY AND THE UNICORN

Ruby sat up, shrugged off the wool blanket that had protected her from the rain, and brushed damp hair out of her eyes. She looked up at Chroicoragh. Moonlight shone down on the mare, highlighting her silvery mane, and gleamed on her horn.

Her horn.

Standing up to get a closer look, Ruby examined it in awe. About as long as her arm, the horn shimmered with a pearly iridescence. Unable to refrain from touching it, she traced a finger along the smooth surface, which twisted whorl-like to a rapier-sharp point. Beautiful and dangerous, the horn made Ruby regard Chroicoragh with a new reverence.

...

Chroicoragh looked at the girl, and the blue of her Unicorn eyes was the same blue where water meets sky: endless. Ruby stared back, lost in that horizon. She became transfixed in a vision -- no, more like a hundred visions, flashing past her like the view from a jaunty carousel, spinning around, trying to find faces in the crowd. Flickering shadow, light, shadow. An ancient forest; gossamer wings; a gypsy caravan; a storm at sea. A journey. Many journeys. Danger.

All at once it hit her. She didn’t know why she knew, but she knew.

Chroicoragh needed her.

That's just a small tidbit from somewhere in Chapter 10. I hope you like it, and that it will appeal to at least some of you, or someone you know. I will be working on this story, quietly in the background while maintaining my blogs, so hold it in the back of your mind, and I'll keep you posted as to relevant progress.
I'll take all the good vibes I can get.

And here's to you and your New Year.

What's in store for you?

My Most Favorite Book of All Time

2010-12-26T18:46:00.003-07:00

I hate those questionnaires that ask: "What's your favorite book/movie?"

As if.

As if I could decide on only ONE. It's like Sophie's Choice. I cannot choose! I cannot choose!

But this year at Christmas it finally hit me. I've had this book since I was five:

I still write my name in the front of my books, but back then I was a bit more enthusiastic about dotting my "i"s.

My mom used to buy these Whitman Tell-A-Tale books for a quarter at the grocery store, probably just to shut me up so she could get done with her shopping. Moms all over the world are familiar with this tactic, but how many great things like this can you find anymore for (published price) 29 cents?

Scotch tape. I'm sure all book preservationists use it.

Can you see the little mouse curled up under the tree? Definitely not stirring.

I have taken this book out every year on Christmas Eve to read to my kids, and this year was no exception. My oldest son, 17, and my youngest, 13, still sat all the way through, and my husband listened along, too.

The illustrations were done by an artist named Florence Sarah Winship. I have a few more books featuring her artwork, and after a precursory internet search, I can't find any information on her, other than she was born in Indiana and lived in Illinois. But what great detail! I really though that sugarplums must look like This. At least they should, anyway. I looked up real sugarplums online, and they're not nearly as pretty. Not to mention there are images labeled "sugar plum" that have absolutely nothing to do with either sugar or plums....

Aww...the snowman is sleeping. And check out the twisted mustache on Papa.

And her Santa is such a, well, jolly old elf.

I love the Nordic-looking boots with braided trim, and the little bell at the end of his stocking cap.

See the oranges? In Victorian times an orange would have been a special treat, since they would have come a long distance, and shipping freight then wasn't quite as streamlined as it is today. For an excellent example of this, Kirsten Dunst has a great film moment of orange appreciation in Little Women.

Solving the age-old question of "How does he get back up the chimney?"

The old finger-aside-of-the-nose trick.

("It wasn't a pick, it was a scratch!")

Anyone who gets that reference gets a cookie.

It's just such a happy, lovely Christmas tradition.

I hope this book never gets lost or destroyed, and that someday my boys can read it to their children.

Someday.

Far, far in the future.

If you have a favorite holiday book or tradition, I'd love to hear it, in the comments section.

I hope your holiday was happy, and filled with food, family, laughs and love.

Merry Christmas.