Category Archives: Uncategorized

CR-V!

Some of you know that I usually tool around in a gigantic brown Ford F-150, with a super crew cab and a full-sized bed. That vehicle is 18.5 feet long; I know because I measured it when I tried to explain to my son why my parallel parking demonstration wasn’t working. Back in 2006, I was slightly involved in the process when my husband picked the truck for his primary ride. Then in 2007 he came to the conclusion that it was not a very good commuter vehicle, so we turned in my Impala for a small zippy BMW 300 series and I got the truck. I informed him shortly afterward that the next vehicle we got would be picked out by me, for me. The next four years I had to be diligent about finding the best pull through parking places, preferably ones with no vehicles on either side because maneuvering that beast into a spot was a daily stressful event, and usually resulted in a style of parking that could be described as “cattywampus,” which is a great word but an undesirable outcome. In the garage, there was a specific slant needed to optimize space, and you had to nearly touch the front bumper to the wall for there to be enough room to skirt around the back when the garage door was down. More stress. Adding to the fun, over the years Mr. Wordtabulous has made several observations about my ability to park the truck in the garage, the most flattering being, “Well, that wasn’t quite as bad as usual.” We normally hold onto vehicles for a lot longer, but between the gas mileage and my increasing aggravation (some might call it rage,) we began shopping for a crossover SUV.

I refuse to go into details about the communication problems Mr. W and I had with this process, because I am afraid of sounding even more crazy than I generally do. Let us just say that it took a long time, with many breaks needed for calming breaths and research. Years. Finally, I picked out my car, a 2011 Honda CR-V, EX-L (which means heated leather seats, which I don’t need–but I do love.) What I liked about the CR-V was that it had everything I wanted: good mileage, reasonable power, good safety rating, reclining back seats and adjustable leg room for the teenagers, a place to plug in my mp3 player, (and did I mention heated leather seats?) without making me pay for navigation, bluetooth, and other fantastical features I am too cheap to care about. We cleaned up the cavernous cab of the truck, which is like a living room on wheels with two large recliners in the front and a full sofa in the back, and took it in to talk trade-in, eventually coming to a deal we could live with. I got my car! My husband, after all the discussion and silence involved in the shopping and research portion of the endeavor, had bowed out of the actual dealership visits and test drives, so he didn’t sit behind the wheel until we’d owned the Honda over 24 HOURS. I could not believe the restraint. I was not 100% invested in him loving it because I am kind of growing out of needing him to agree with me, but I was still hopeful he wouldn’t hate it. We went to the mall and he drove. We talked about this and that. He asked how the radio turned off and on. The conversation was pretty neutral. Then, when we were almost home, after a lull in the conversation, he said, “Yep.” This was in a voice that leaned slightly more to approval than to neutral, and which I take as an overall passing grade. And then, in a completely neutral voice, he said, “You can tell it’s a 4-cylinder.”

Hmmph. Everyone knows it is a four cylinder vehicle, and that his car and the truck are both more powerful and studly. Point made. But why? Why point that out? Allow me to compare it to a jewelry purchase: “I see you have a new gold necklace. I can tell it is 10k gold.” He can’t help himself. If I accused him of being negative he would honestly be confused, “But I told you I liked it,” he’d say, because that is evidently part of what “Yep” means, unless it means, “I don’t like it at all, but there is nothing to be done about it now.” There is probably a subtle difference in inflection to differentiate. But even he is amazed how much space we now have in our garage. We could now hold a dance in there, even with both vehicles inside. I might try. I am happy; I like the sleeker look, the improved gas mileage, and the features–and the maneuverability is amazing. There is just one thing that puzzles me. For reasons I do not understand, I still park like crap. But no matter, overall it is still a win and I will take it.

A Writerly Gift

I can be so asinine and ignorant. Never you mind why I said that; I just needed to get it off my chest. Moving on…

Next month is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo,) when anybody who wants to try can take on the challenge of writing a 50,000+ word novel in thirty days. There is no prize, except a certificate you can print yourself. No one at NaNoWriMo reads or critiques your work, unless you ask them to, but I wouldn’t–they are all too busy writing to have time for your neediness. Wait until November is over and ask an unsuspecting friend. People love that. The website, Nanowrimo.org, has lots of inspirational messages and motivating tools and quite a bit of craziness intended to support participants. I recommend it highly. At best, you will learn some things that make you a better writer and open a world of opportunity; at worst, you will gain an appreciation of how difficult it is to write even a bad novel. And I know, because I’ve done it. Twice. One of those bad novels might grow into a halfway-decent novel one day but the other is irredeemable. So, join the fun if you are so inclined.

For those of you who are writers, closeted or otherwise, I bring you a gift. I made it myself, because that is what I do (especially when something more important needs to be done.) Here is a picture of your gift:

It is a flyleaf, a page you can three hole punch or glue into a notebook, or post on the wall, whatever, you decide. It is covered with inspirational quotes about writing from other writers you may have heard of. Yep, I’m a giver. However, I am not fully versed on the best way to do these things, so what I have come up with so far is to give you a link to the flyleaf which is cleverly hidden inside my blog (along with the first two chapters of Hollywood University, sorry if you’ve been looking for that.) When you click on the link, the .doc file should download to your Word program. Then you can print it off, because I am not made of money to buy ink cartridges. So I guess that makes me a cheap giver. And again, ignorant, because I feel I should have been able to come up with a smoother way to do this, but I am also not made of time, so here goes. Thanks for flying with Wordtabulous, and have a nice day! (Here’s your link:)

https://wordtabulous.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/flyleaf.docx

 

Breathtaking Moment

I am at the pleasantest part of the day. The house is quiet; my to-do list has not yet encroached on the mild euphoria and clarity a 16oz Velvet Hammer with French Vanilla has afforded me. Soon I will turn to untangle the threads of conflicting priorities and finite time, but just now, this second, take a deep breath and join me in this happy place. ~Thank you~

Crushing Monsters

I was reading Salem’s Lot by Stephen King for my October ambience read and was struck by a couple of things. First, I noticed how tiny the size of the font used in the paperback is and how old and squinty my eyes are. Second, I noted what traditional vampires King’s monsters were, compared to the mutations that have hit popular culture since his book was published in 1975. And thirdly, (and here Mr. Wordtabulous would point out that I have exceeded the ‘couple’ of things I referred to in the first sentence, couple meaning two and not three, but Mr. W. doesn’t read this blog so pbbbbththhhh,) there is an interesting spiritual bit in the battle between Callahan, the priest, and the ancient vampire, Barlow. I suppose I need to warn you there could be spoilers here, but honestly, the book is over thirty-five years old. Consider yourself warned. Barlow has the boy, Mark, in his grasp and is facing off against the priest. Callahan, crucifix in hand, is all full of righteousness, and is literally glowing with the light of his convictions. Barlow is sly, and offers to release the boy and face Callahan “mono e mono” if the priest cast away his cross. To save the boy, Callahan agrees and tells Mark to flee. Mark does. Callahan suddenly becomes afraid to give up the cross, but even before he can throw it away, the light of  it starts to dim until it is nothing but an ordinary piece of metal. The symbolic cross wasn’t saving him, his faith in God, in “the White,” was what channeled that devastating power. When Barlow challenged him to let go of the cross, the priest became momentarily confused about the source of the power and he stopped channeling. And then bad things happened. End of spoiler alert.

Okay, I do understand this is fiction, but this vignette does make me wonder what, exactly, I am channeling. As a Christian, I believe in a Creator with infinite power, and a Savior with the juice to transform humanity so that they can enter the kingdom of heaven, as well as a Spirit surrounding and filling me with that love and power all the time. Instead, I seem to be channeling a lot of anxiety and wimpiness. This has got to stop. I am going to try on some power and faith and see what little monsters I can crush beneath my boots.

Sharing Bloggy Love

Hi there, friends and visitors! I am in an exceptionally good mood right now because I have had two very good things happen (no Mom, not published yet, but still good things!) Good Thing #1: I was nominated for the Most Versatile Blogger Award the same week I was having that meltdown you may remember from the post entitled This Blogger’s Prayer. Katie Leigh, young educator and writer with a theological bent, nominated me and I want to thank her (see the link to her blog, below!) The rules to fulfill the nomination are as follows:

  1. You must give credit to the person that has nominated you and create a link to their blog in your post, (as I have done below).
  2. You must create a list of 15 blogs that you enjoy most and link to those as well. Then you must go and tell them you have nominated them. That means if you do not have 15, you cannot do this step. If you do not complete this step, then you cannot claim this award.
  3. Finally, you must create a list of seven things about yourself.
I smiled and got all warm and fuzzy, I might have even done a little dance, and then I got to thinking…Fifteen Blogs? Confession: I don’t follow a lot of blogs. It took most my time and effort to get this little wordtabulous dealio underway and maintained, but I did have a few. So I got to researching and took my time to make sure I was only picking high quality blogs that I think you might enjoy. Good Thing #2 is that I have completed my selections which are listed below in no particular order. And to help guide you, I have made some notes along the way.

Hot off the Wire at http://thompsonkelly.wordpress.com/ is written by mi compadre of 26 years (wait a minute…good lord–26 YEARS?). Writer, journalist and radio host (among many other things) she blogs poignant essays and fiction with intelligence and wit.

The Greenery at http://aviatrixkim.wordpress.com/Nature, cooking and food, Otis the Cat, travel: intriguing writing and vibrant photography. Aviatrix Kim is truly versatile and has pointed the way to other great blogs.

Lucy’s Footballhttp://lucysfootball.com This girl makes me laugh so hard! Hyper, irreverent, out of left field and great with words (she does sprinkle in the profanity but it works in the context.)

Ree Drummond, the Pioneer Woman at http://thepioneerwoman.com I especially love the cooking portion of her blog. She does amazing things educating with food and photography, and is so approachable and entertaining!

Rosie Says at http://rosiesays.com/ Smart, amusing and political, Rosie helps readers think about issues, and then nudges them to funny, random things.

Kathryn Leigh, Still Growing at http://kathrynleighaz.wordpress.com Katie, who I mentioned above, is unabashedly Christian and exploring the righteous life while working toward publication and killing digital  targets on Assassin’s Creed. (Way to go on beating the first installment!)

the wuc at http://thewuc.com/ Dark, funny, and QUITE naughty, the wuc offers a surreal take on work, romance and pop culture.

Kana’s Notebook at http://kanatyler.wordpress.com/ Kana blogs authentic and gritty. She is evidence that smart and amazing women don’t mark success with dollar amounts, but with gratitude for second chances and the love of family and friends.

Kate Hopper, Mother Words at http://www.motherswhowrite.blogspot.com/ Kate is a great writer and an inspiring writing teacher as well as a woman who makes her motherness an intrinsic part of her writing. I took one of her classes last spring and the essay I wrote there was one of the first things I posted on wordtabulous.

Julie Nordine at http://creditriverartglass.blogspot.com/ Julie combines wearable art and craft in the form of lampwork beads and I am a huge fan! Visit her blog to admire her beads, her photography, and her passion! Afterward, you can shop her site on etsy.com.

AG at http://regectedriter.wordpress.com My token male blogger? I didn’t think I was biased, but only one guy out of fifteen choices is telling. This guy is a playwright (it says so on his MFA :p -see the blog) and has witty observations on writing and culture.

So then SHE said at http://dobberpuhlthompson.wordpress.com Okay, this is a cheat. This is a second blog I do with Kelly, a back-and-forth format experiment we are trying. I have long said that my best writing is in the emails I exchange with her and we are trying to work up to that level. Stop in, let us know what you think!

Jane Hall at http://mustardmoon.blogspot.com Jane is one of several occasional shop owners in the Carver, MN area and she finds amazing stuff to use creatively in the home. She is generous about directing visitors to the sites of other dealers and the photography is inspiring and fun!

Lisa Sheppard at http://sheppardgirls.typepad.com/ Lisa “upcycles” new and used decor items and inspires others to create a fun, original and beautiful home. I enjoy looking at what she is up to while ignoring my own neglected domicile. I interviewed Lisa for an article about her home and garden, and while we were talking outside, a bug flew into my ear and settled in. I still have the tape–a full twenty seconds of barely controlled panic and hysteria. I swear I was on the verge of begging her to dig into my ear with tweezers when it flew out. Tiny wingbeats sound like a helicopter when they flutter against your eardrum. Good times.

Amy at http://amysmuddledmusings.blogspot.com/ Amy writes with clarity about the sometimes difficult path of living an authentically Christian life, while keeping a cheerful and encouraging tone. She is a new find for me and I look forward to getting to know her better!

Seven Things About Me

  1. I am a recovering overachiever.
  2. My teenage sons are my most important work and I still don’t know what the hell I am doing as a parent. I pray daily they won’t need too much therapy once I am done with them, and that they will still call and visit when they no longer need financial support.
  3. I wrote a 92,000 word memoir with and about a friend of mine from Rwanda, and would love it if you happened to know an agent and/or publisher who would be interested in looking at it!
  4. Fiction (writing and reading) is my escape and anti-psychotic.
  5. Exercise endorphins are my anti-depressant.
  6. I have had the most interesting string of jobs over the years, starting with my first “real” job, as a tour guide for the Laura Ingalls Wilder Memorial Society in De Smet, SD, aka Little Town on the Prairie.
  7. I love the movie, “Whip It.”
So now I have completed my obligations! Thanks for tuning in, and check out my nifty new badge! Oh, and Fifteen? Tag! You’re it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Blogger’s Prayer

Oh my God, oh my God, please. Please let someone read it who gets it. Please let someone read what I wrote and say, “Wow, that is so [cool, right, inspiring, funny, ANYTHING.] Please let me not be just another asshat who is obsessed with being noticed, even though that is what it feels like I am. Please help me understand what it is I am doing or what it is I am supposed to be doing. Why do I keep feeling like putting words on a page? I mean, I am glad my mom and a couple of my long-suffering friends take the time to check in, but does this whole writing endeavor make sense? All this effort and angst for what? There is so much crap out there, God, have you SEEN all the crap out there? I don’t want to be putting out crap. I know I shouldn’t care about being liked, God, but then why did you build me so I care so MUCH about whether people like what I do or write? That is freakin’ mean, God. Harsh. To make me so insecure and so exhibitionistic at the same time, and then to wrap me up in the culture that says “If you can dream it you can achieve it,” but then make me so cynical that I know that is idiotic. Is this is a joke? Am I amusing you? I didn’t take you for snarky, Lord, but I am feeling like the dork stumbling past the cool kid’s table, and you are snorting milk out of your nose. OK, that’s not true. You wouldn’t laugh at me. But you are keeping some secrets and it sucks. I hate not understanding the direction or the point of this.

And that, right there, is the point. Understanding is my anchor; research and analysis is how I control my world. You want to be my anchor and want me to know that control is an illusion. Dude. I don’t have to like it, but I see your point. As always, God, oh my God, 1) help me, and 2) thanks.

Learned! + Spooky Book Faves

Mr. Clean Magic Erasers may not be magic, but when my bathtub is gross, they are close enough.

People who mock you are annoying but you shouldn’t knock them down.

Even a person who is making progress on the path to becoming a better person fantasizes about knocking someone down occasionally.

Just because nobody is listening doesn’t mean you don’t have something important to say.

It isn’t all about you.

 

Seasonal Stories

I have always loved spooky tales: Grimm’s Fairy Tales, Sleepy Hollow and The Dark is Rising as a young person, and then Stephen King and Dean Koontz in college. I love the Harry Potter books but Twilight? Not so much. Don’t get me wrong, I read them–I read them like crazy and then had a latter day goth romance hangover for two weeks afterward. It is just that this time of year, I get a hankering to read Harry Potter all over again, and I will never need to read any of the Twilight books again. One Stephen King book I haven’t read is ‘Salem’s Lot, and it is on my shelf. I think this October its time has come.

One of my new author favorites is Kat Richardson, who writes a detective series superimposed over a supernatural story line that starts with Greywalker and develops with each subsequent book. After dying and being resuscitated Harper, the protagonist, discovers she can see “The Grey,” the world between this and the next. It is populated with ghosts, echoes, energies, spells, vampires and other supernatural creatures which are very distracting and often dangerous. Her journey of discovery of this new world can be as bewildering to the reader as it seems to Harper, which becomes part of the charm of the series. She is a strong and gritty hero without being overly masculine.

The cable TV show “The Dresden Files” was one of my guilty pleasures on the SyFy channel a few years ago. Urban wizard Harry Dresden solves mysteries and tries to keep ahead of the bill collectors and murderous supernatural creatures while sorting out his own romantic quandaries. I love a self-deprecating hero who doesn’t take himself too seriously, and both the TV and the book series by Jim Butcher offer laughs as well as action and tension.

We are halfway through October, and there is plenty of time to pick up a spooky read from a new author or old favorite.
Enjoy! (Mwa-ha-ha-ha!)

Wrath Averted

It was several years ago that a friend called me, asking for my help. “I have a problem,” she told me. She worked at a high school and a family of one of the recent graduates was demanding an apology because their graduate’s diploma wasn’t available at the ceremony. It had been withheld because the student had some library fines, which the family said they had paid. My friend agreed the fines were paid, but not in time to get the diploma inside the folder for the ceremony. The student felt humiliated, and the family was aggressively seeking payback and even threatening litigation. The school wanted my friend to write an apology to make the incident go away. My friend, who is very intelligent and empathetic, had had it. “I am so upset I can’t even think, anything I come up with would just make it worse,” then she schmoozed me, “You are so good with words, can you come up with something?”

My friend was more than capable of coming up with the words, but she had lost the objective distance she needed to frame her response to the family. It is so difficult to overcome our own feelings of pain or anger, especially when we are feeling attacked. Like a contagion, retaliatory instincts had spread from the student’s family to my friend. It happens between people, people and institutions, cultures, and governments. I often wonder how much litigation, property damage and even death could be avoided if it was easier for people to slip out of their own experience to see and feel events from another’s perspective. When I was a little girl, weeping in sadness or frustration over troubles with my friends, my mom would urge me to look at the situation from the other girls’ point of view. It was highly unsatisfactory. “Why aren’t you on my side?” I wailed, picturing myself adrift on a raft of self-righteousness in the stormy sea of injustice. (Even for a little girl, I was very dramatic.) Eventually, I caught on to her philosophy and over time became more analytical about conflict. It helped me “simmer down,” as my dad would say when my temper threatened to boil over (which is helpful because I had inherited a temper that is constantly threatening to boil over.)  I felt that I had some of the skills needed to help my friend out.

I congratulated the student on reaching the milestone of high school graduation. I thanked him for paying the fines. I commiserated with his disappointment that the process didn’t work out in time for the event, but celebrated that he had had experienced a beautiful ceremony with his friends to mark the successful completion of twelve years of hard work. I thanked him for letting the school know his concerns and wished him well. It was easy for me to do because I knew all those things were genuinely felt, even by my frustrated friend. “Yes! This is perfect!” she said. She still had a kind regard toward the student, but it had all been choked back behind fatigue and anxiety in the face of the family’s umbrage. Was the family satisfied? I have no idea, but there was no lawsuit. Is it fair when only one side acts compassionately? As Dad was fond of saying, “life isn’t fair,” and as I would say, “that’s not the point.” Even if it doesn’t feel fair, it is best. I sometimes think it is only simple proverbs like ‘Walk a mile in another’s moccasins,’ and ‘A gentle answer turns away wrath,’ that keep the world from bursting into flames. It can sometimes feel like humanity is forgetting these ancient approaches; I know that I do at times, but I hope that there are still parents in the world aggravating their children by pulling them along to a higher road, one we can all travel together.

Miss Perfect

My friend Kelly is not what you would call churchy, but she and I do have interesting conversations which sometimes provoke spiritual insight. I have been troubled that Sunday morning church activities often leave me wrung out rather than strengthened and enlightened. She suggested maybe I am overly focused on others (teaching, helping, managing, welcoming, all as if my life depended on it.) It took a few hours to soak in, but she makes a valid point. On a plane, when the oxygen masks drop down, you put yours on first and then help the others around you. The woman drawing water at the well might die of dehydration if she serves everyone else before taking a drink herself. Mary as opposed to Martha.

I grew up reading and watching a lot of those “Moment of Truth” stories, where the hero’s actions at one decisive point make the difference between triumph and tragedy, possibly for the entire planet. Top that with “The Horseshoe Nail” ditty, the one that informs us that one never knows what tiny detail will be critical. Impressionistic and dramatic, I came to believe that I needed to be perfect in all things, or else. No one ever told me that, I picked it up all by myself. It is a terrible strain, being personally responsible for saving the world through good behavior. Ironically, striving desperately for perfection results in some pretty imperfect qualities. Fear of the fatal misstep winds me up tight and leaves little room for joy. It would be too embarrassing to reveal all the ways this unfortunate default thinking affects my personality, but suffice it to say if you met me during a fit of perfection stress you might wonder if I was nuts.

My thought is that, to varying degrees, a lot of people (especially women) have this same thinking. We take responsibility for our families, our communities, our fellow human beings. Many of us are acutely sensitive to perceived judgment from fellow human beings and from God. If we do everything perfectly, if everyone admires what we have accomplished and how fabulous we are, surely we won’t be judged wanting? But that is so wrong. Whenever I realize I am losing it, I remind myself of the Big Two: Love God, Love Others. Loving God has nothing to do with performance. Also, God’s goodness isn’t like a plate of cupcakes where you want to make sure everyone else gets served first in case there isn’t enough to go around. The well is bottomless and full and we need to draw on it. Loving others is second, because if you are full from loving God, you have plenty left over to share.

You prepare a table before me…you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Psalm 23:5

SOP? Really?

We were at the bank, a small branch in Erie, CO. My mom and I sat at Samantha’s desk as I filled out the paperwork needed to recognize my ‘Power of Attorney’ role. It had been a long day of doing sitting-down tasks, there was a little more to do yet, and we were both getting punchy. After confirming all my data, Samantha the banker handed me a small form and asked me to select a password only I would know. I hate the password game, especially picking a password for something I probably won’t need for years and years. Who knows what I will remember when that time comes? I racked my brain, while I looked the paper over. The blank on which I would write the password was a field of black and white spots, to hide the writing. The directions said to write in black pen. “Is this pen black?” I asked Samantha. “What?” she asked.  When I showed her what the directions said she looked at me curiously. “No one has ever asked about that before,” she told us. She’d been with the bank for five years, but I suppose power of attorney matters don’t come up that often. “I’m a reader,” I shrugged. Mom affirmed. I used my blue pen to write down my password and noted that I still couldn’t read it through the camouflaged field. I solemnly handed the form over to Samantha, who peeled back the top copy and peered at the carbon image of the password underneath before typing it into the computer. Mom and I looked at each other and burst into laughter. I could have handed her a plain slip of paper, or typed it in myself.  Samantha looked sheepish. “It’s the system, this is how we have to do it.”

I received a privacy and updated minimum payment notice on  two Sears credit accounts in my name the other day, one I didn’t even know I had. I never activated either account so I called Citibank up to close them both. Speaking to the nice young representative, Armando, I was relieved to find the process was simple, but a little amusing. He had to read me “a verbatim” to the effect that I understood my account was being closed, I wouldn’t be able to use it, I was losing any accumulated bonus points, would have to make alternative arrangements for recurring charges, and so on. He read it to me twice, once for each account. He seemed embarrassed about having to do so, but I knew his superiors were recording the call and he could get in trouble for not following directions so I told him it was fine. At the end of the call, according to script, he thanked me for being a loyal customer (for closing two accounts I had never used,) and invited me to call back if I had any other issues with which I needed help (presumably regarding my non-existent accounts.)

Some people might get worked up about this, and call it wasteful and ridiculous. I for one, am glad for the moments of humor. Sure, these kind of standard operating procedures can be ineffective, a little time-consuming, and kind of silly, but they were conceived in an effort to provide care to the customer. I think in general, most bad systems start out as a righteous effort to improve things but get a little (or badly) lost along the way.  Sometimes old systems become outmoded and often new procedures need fine-tuning, but since humans make and use the systems, they are destined to be imperfect. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make it better, particularly when it affects people deeply. Speaking out when it matters makes sense. Speaking out with respect for the righteous intent makes those words easier to hear.