Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

Thanks for visiting.

If you haven't already checked out my new site , I'd love for you to do so. The first chapter of my short story collection is now available, and I added a page for Bike the US for MS . I've had a lot of fun along with some frustrations building the website, but I think most of it is in order. I hope you like it, bookmark it, and check in on a regular basis. I also hope you contact me and let me know what your thoughts are about the short stories, the blog posts, and anything else. Cheers!

During the summer I made a decision: I'm going to take the plunge and try self publishing. To start me on my way, I created a personal website. This website will not only host my short fiction and essays, but also my blog. The idea of having everything under one roof is very appealing, especially after two months of being almost completely offline. So I'm going to say farewell to Blogger, but I hope I'm not saying farewell to those of you who have been readers of my blog. I hope you will join me at my new site which can be found here . Oh, and so you know, there is a bit of controversy over the photo of me I chose for the site. While I didn't quite know what I thought about it the first time I saw it, the more I looked at it the more I came to really like it. Someone else (take a guess as to who that person is), however, doesn't like it at all because I'm not smiling in the photo. I'm kind of smiling, and that's good enough. I do have a few glitches ...

After much thought, I have decided to take a break from all things internet for the summer. Time to do other things. I hope you all have a most excellent summer.

Lovely Beautiful Daughter visited for the holiday weekend, arriving last Thursday and leaving out on Monday. The day she had to leave to return east was a sad day for all of us. That particular good-bye was very difficult. She is such a spark of life, such a kind, thoughtful young woman, and everyone who is in her presence feels that spark, is buoyed by it. I know I wasn't the only one feeling the hole created by her departure. Funny Delightful Son seemed down when we all traipsed back into the house after getting her settled in for the ride to Chicago where she was to catch the train heading to Massachusetts. We'd been in the middle of playing Munchkin, but he just looked at the cards on the table and said, "I don't want to keep playing." I really didn't either.  For two days, as if the four people who'd been playing the game were going to return to finish it, the cards stayed on the table where they'd been left. On Wednesday, I finally boxed up the g...

I finally took the plunge. I finally let my dentist have his way with my mouth and had brackets put on yesterday. Today, I'm finding out just how crooked my teeth are. My mouth isn't a very happy camper right now. I see nothing but very soft foods for me the next few days. My dentist keeps telling me, though, that in just a month I'll see a significant difference and I'll be so happy I went through with this. I have the one-month marker on my calendar, so we'll see. I didn't tell anyone I was going to get the braces put on. I didn't even know until I was sitting in the dentist chair Monday morning for my 6 month cleaning. As usual, the doc asked when I was going to get the brackets put on. He really dislikes my snaggletooth and makes comments about it nearly every time I'm in. My response was I'd decided it was time, so whenever he could fit me in, I'd do it. He fit me in yesterday, not giving me a chance to back out yet again. When Hubby s...

Enjoying the morning sun For a long time now, I've been wanting chickens. I grew up out in the country, and my parents always had chickens. Before moving to the city, I owned chickens and a turkey. Having fresh eggs every day was pretty much a given. Being able to simply enjoy watching the hens roam around the yard was something I didn't know I would miss so much. But I did. I really wanted chickens again. Unfortunately, living in the city doesn't make having chickens easy. First there was the hubby who needed to be convinced. Then there was the city ordinances to take into consideration. As if those two obstacles weren't enough, I had to think about my neighbors. So I went to work on Hubby. I talked about chickens all the time. I'm quite sure he finally just reached the point of thinking all right already. Give the chicken talk a rest. Please. I kept suggesting I was going to buy a coop and create a space for the chickens behind the house. They'd be com...

The other day, Mother's Day, I received a text expressing a very happy Mother's Day to those of us who are moms. Because I am notoriously bad about putting numbers into my phone, I had no idea who the text was from. As such, I wasn't quite sure how to respond. I thought about just saying thanks and leaving it at that, but that seemed kind of dismissive. So I typed in, "Yes, Happy Mother's Day!" Yeah, I know. That's about as bad as "Thanks!" The next text I received started off with a nickname only one other person calls me. I knew instantly who it was. And she's not a mom. So, yes, my response was ridiculous to say the least. But this person found it funny. This person is a friend who goes all the way back to fifth grade. She is truly my first best friend. Though we don't see each other often, she let's me know she's thinking about me, and I let her know I'm thinking about her. In one of her text, she said she misses the day...

Every now and then (okay, if I'm going to be honest it's way more than just every now and then) I go through a period of just not having much to say. Like recently, as Hubby and I were making a run to the big home improvement store for more top soil to dump into the two new veggie boxes, and Hubby says something like, "You really got to stop talking so much." I've been teased by others through the years over my tendency to just sit and listen. I truly don't feel the need to say anything, adding yet more noise to the cacophony that already exists. I am completely happy as well as comfortable with silence. Which is why I've not written anything during the last month. I've been enjoying my quiet life. Along with the quiet, I've been enjoying watching my apple trees leaf out, the blooms opening little by little each day. The winter of 2014 was bitterly cold and snowy, leaving nothing for the rabbits to eat, so they ate the bark off my fruit trees. Tw...

Several days have passed since my group meditation experience, but I keep returning to the two hours I spent sitting cross-legged in a yoga studio. A couple of ideas Bhante Sujatha offered continue to resonate with me, specifically that the sitting and looking inward, breathing in and breathing out, is practice, while the moment I walk out the door of the yoga studio is when meditation truly begins. This makes complete sense to me, for it's all well and good to sit, relax, repeat a mantra, and listen to my breathing, but if I only practice in the confines of a building, with the mindset that when I leave I'm done, then what's the point? Sure, I could find calm and quiet for an hour every day, and there definitely is something to be said for this given the chaotic world we live in, but to go out, face people and situations I might not necessarily want to face, and do so feeling calm and quiet despite the people and situations, is, I think, the real fruit being cultivated thr...

 Spring I cycle the trail, into the breeze raising up the red-winged blackbird. *** Recently, I participated in my first guided meditation session. I've been wanting to go beyond my own space and take part in a group meditation session for some time, so when the opportunity arose last week, I signed up. What I found at the end of the two hours was 1) I truly enjoyed being guided, listening to the soothing monk voice; 2) I'm pretty sure I nearly fell asleep as I vividly remember dreaming of a low-flying helicopter (so perhaps I was asleep); and 3) sitting in a crossed-legged position for an extended time makes the ankle against the floor hurt. When I arrived at Main Street Yoga , I was directed to the front of the room, towards Sassy Sister-in-Law who was already there, sitting on a pillow, her yoga mat stretched out in front of her. I made my way to the pillow next to her and settled in. Immediately, I thought I should have worn yoga pants as I was, after all,...

Here it is Friday, and I'm thinking three days ahead, when I'll have to return to work. Sigh. I truly love being home. Being able to do whatever I want. Whenever I want. With no one else here, asking for something. Knowing my days are numbered has sent me into mourning. So I figured the best way to deal with mourning was to eat a vanilla cupcake with cream filling and lovely, swirled vanilla frosting for breakfast. I have never eaten a vanilla cupcake with cream filling and lovely, swirled vanilla frosting (or any other kind of cupcake or cake for that matter) for breakfast. Not ever. Rather, breakfast has always been oatmeal, eggs (more recently egg whites only), bacon (more recently turkey bacon, though I just can't get past the limpy nature of it and decided to eat pork bacon as long as it comes from pastured pigs), and yogurt. Along with what I eat, I make sure to drink water, lemon water, or more recently, kombucha. The most daring I get on occasion is to have half...

My bees are dead. What I have feared since last fall happened. I don't even know where to start. And, really, I can barely see the monitor because of the tears that keep blurring my eyes. I know they're "just" bees to a lot of people, but to me, they are creatures that play a very important role in the cycle of life. I was supposed to help them. I was a "beekeeper," but I feel like I totally failed them. My heart is broken right now. One group of the mass of bees I found dead in the hive. 

Winter Slumber   Snow floats down,blankets the ground with its magic and asks us all to dream.

One way I cope with stress/distress/anger/frustration/sadness is to write. Feeling crushed by every single one of these emotions the last few days, I found myself going full tilt into a short piece that is part of the longer collection, a piece I've not been fully satisfied with from the get-go. While I'm happy with one very basic idea offered in the story, I'm not at all happy with most of the other aspects of it. So I made some changes. The first major change was to make the main character a woman rather than a man. While several of the stories within the collection are told from a man's point of view, I just wasn't feeling confident that this particular story's male pov was working. Once I had finished going through the entire story to change every he to she, every his to her, and every male character's name to the new female character's name, the fingers started flying on the keyboard. I kept a few minor details along the way, but for the most part...

One thing I've learned about myself in the last nearly 48 hours, after the whole FB message opening the door to memories I'd buried a very long time ago, is I truly haven't dealt with what happened. My way of dealing with it was to bury it, pretend it didn't happen. I never told anyone about the situation. Not one single person. If I didn't acknowledge it and no one else knew what had gone down, then it didn't really happen, right? Wrong. It happened. And it still has the power to make me feel like crap. Yesterday, all day, piece after piece of the then revealed itself. When I was walking down the hall to spend time in the Writing Center, one particular moment surfaced. Along with the moment came the feeling I'd experienced then: fear. Before I reached the Writing Center I was doing all I could to keep myself together. And so went most of the day, me trying to keep myself together. Since seeing the FB message, I've thought about what I should have ...

There are moments when something will trigger my inner nasty. Today, that moment happened just after I finished eating my tuna salad sandwich and was thinking, "Hmmmmm, it's been awhile since I've had tuna. That was kind of tasty." I still had about 15 minutes before having to return to work, so I opened my laptop to see what was going on in FB world. I know, I know. Mistake number 1. I should have just enjoyed sitting with Ado, getting cream colored dog hair all over my black dress. But no. I went ahead. I noticed I had a message waiting for me, so I clicked on the message icon. Just above the name of the person who'd sent me the message I noticed Other (2). While I check in to see what friends and family are up to, I don't normally pay much attention to the other aspects of FB, so out of curiosity, I clicked on Other (2) to see why two messages had not gone to my Inbox. Yes, you got it. Mistake number 2. I should have just let it be and ignored it like is ...

This morning the urge to ride my bike to work consumed me. Even though the temperature was 19 degrees with a real feel of single digits and even though the wind would be hitting me directly in the face as I made my way to work, the craving to ride far outweighed the comfort I would be provided through driving. It was almost like I had no control over the decision making, like someone or something had determined the choice for me before I even woke up. I was merely a puppet whose strings were being pulled by some unknown puppeteer. So I rode. The cold numbed my thighs. The wind bit at my cheeks. My right ear hurt even though I had my hat pulled down over it. I didn't care. Sometimes I wonder if I don't care enough about the things I should. Lately, my mind keeps finding its way back to a thought that occurred to me some time ago. A question, really. About love. The question surprised me as it seemed to just pop up out of nowhere. Now it won't leave me alone. It wri...

I played hookey from work today. Well, technically, I didn't. I let all the proper people know I wasn't going to be in. I followed all the procedures for being sure my students knew not to show up since I wasn't going to be there. And I didn't feel one ounce of guilt for taking the day off. Years ago, if I had to cancel class because I was sick or one of the kids was sick, I felt guilty. I'd grown up with the work ethic of you go to work. Period. No excuses. I watched my dad go to work even when he would get one of his terrible headaches that made him sick to his stomach and barely able to keep his eyes open. The only relief he got was by sitting on the floor next to his bed and laying his head against the quilt. I saw my dad get into the car during a blizzard, determined to drive to work 30 miles away, only to get stuck a half mile down the road from the house and have to hike back, upset he wasn't going to be able to make it in that day. I don't have one...

This weekend was supposed to be grade papers weekend. I was going to get started early yesterday as I have quite a few papers that need attention. So what have I been doing? Avoiding anything related to work by brewing up another batch of kombucha (the first batch was okay--a little too vinegary for me--so I'm hoping this batch works out better). making yogurt (love knowing the only ingredients are whole milk from grass-fed cows and cultures). simmering beef bone broth on the stove (and burning the palm of my hand by grabbing hold of the cast iron skillet used to brown the bones in the oven before transferring them to the stock pot. My little, "I'm so stupid! I'm so stupid!" dance around the kitchen as I'm holding my hand brought Hubby running and turning on the cold water at the sink for me). making homemade granola (which smells so good as it is heating in the oven). sweeping and mopping and dusting and laundry and dishes (yes, even cleaning ho...

When the kids were younger, toddlers and preteen, I would make sure to get each of them a Valentine's Day gift of some sort, usually chocolate and some other small gift, and usually very last minute, like an hour before school let out if Valentine's happened to fall during the week. Then one year, as I was standing in front of the heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, trying to decide what to get the kids, I said (and I'm pretty sure I said it out loud as I stood there), "Enough, I'm not buying into the idea any longer that I have to spend money on something to show those I love that I love them." Affection and love shouldn't be reserved for just one day of the year. Affection and love are an everyday thing, which is what I've tried to teach the kids their entire lives. Is this one day filled with red hearts, red roses, red ribbons, red everywhere you turn really something we need? The answer for me is an emphatic, "No!" It's not uncommon t...

Snow recedes under a warm February sun casting long, afternoon shadows.

Training Day 1: Spin bike ride. My goals were to hit 20 miles and maintain a cadence of 95. Achieved. (Do not try to enter that bright light . . .. It's just the flash on my phone.)

It's on the calendar. A new challenge. Calvin's Challenge . 200 miles in 12 hours. And just three months to develop a fitness level that might get me to my goal. Might. The knot in the belly is already growing.

Death-defying Alpha Meet Alpha. Who, two years after the very tragic deaths of Frank and Andy the goldfish, now resides in the bowl that was their home. Who last Friday was, for all intents and purposes, knocking on Death's door himself (after only a week of being in his new home!). Lying sideways on the bottom of the bowl. Very obviously gasping his last breaths. My colleagues saying, "Ummm, yeah. He's not long for this world." But I wasn't about to give up on him. No. Not this time. Not Alpha. So I put warm water in a smaller container and transferred Alpha to it. I put food in the container. You know, just in case he made it and was hungry. I set him on the heater in a colleague's office. And we left campus for the weekend, all of us thinking we would return on Monday to face a sad scene. Monday morning, my colleague came to me when I arrived to work, and said, "Alpha lives!" Stunned, I followed her to her office. I peered into the contain...

The weather improved enough during the last week, with temps reaching the upper 30's during the day, the sun shining on and off, melting most of the snow and ice, that the possibility of getting out for a ride became reality Friday and yesterday. I get all giddy thinking about riding, and once I'm on the bike, I revel in the wind against my cheeks, the warmth of the scarf around my neck, and the strength of my legs as I pedal. Even this morning, as I stood looking out over the back deck, watching the rain come down, my thoughts went to riding later today, in the rain. I want to feel the rain, listen to it splatter up, spit high into the air as the tires of my bike roll along the road. I was rolling along all happy Friday morning. I'd not ridden my commuter to work since reporting back three weeks ago, first because the temperatures were in the single digits and the real feel was in the negative double digits, then because we had a good snow that covered the roads, turned ...

Sunrise

Whenever Hubby and go grocery shopping, I feel like I'm living Groundhog Day  as soon as we walk through the automatic doors. I pick up organic onions and Hubby says, "Those are a dollar more a pound than the regular onions. Why can't you just get the cheaper ones?" I pick up organic potatoes, and hear Hubby say, "Geez, those are expensive." And so it goes for the entire shopping trip. By the time we reach the check out, I'm exhausted from trying to explain why I buy organic when I can. After paying the bill, I get to hear about how we're paying too much for groceries because I insist on buying organic. Yesterday, before even reaching the check out lane, I had arrived at the point of just being tired of hearing it. Hubby and I definitely part ways when it comes to food. I'm deeply concerned about how our fruits and veggies are grown. I'm just as concerned with how animals are treated before their lives end so that we can eat. Yesterday, my ...

Since January 1, I've cooked each evening except one, and that night was a "everyone is on his/her own night." Each evening, I worked to include herbs and spices, and each meal save one was given the thumbs up. The save one meal didn't get a thumbs down; it received a sideways thumb, and I think that was because I didn't get the black beans pureed the way they needed to be for the black bean soup to be creamy. I tried to puree the beans while they were too hot, and well, putting hot food into a blender then turning it on just isn't a good idea. Even though I was pressing down on the lid to prevent it launching to the ceiling, it still popped off. Black beans spewed everywhere. As if the first try wasn't enough, I made a second attempt. Yeah, not a smart move. The lid took off like a rocket, allowing black beans to splatter across cabinet doors, my sweatshirt, this computer, and my exposed wrist, which burned and now sports a nice red welt. It was carnage. ...

As I was standing in the kitchen this morning, putting together the ingredients for a dark rum, dark chocolate chip banana bread, I heard Hubby begin talking to me from the living room. He was telling me about California passing a law concerning how chickens are caged. Chicken farmers there now have to make sure the cage in which a chicken is kept be big enough for the chicken to stretch its wings. I could tell by the tone of Hubby's voice that he thought this new law ridiculous, and as he continued, bringing up how the farmers are going to have to spend a lot of money to make the required changes, how the price of eggs is going to go up, and how there will be an egg shortage because of this new law, I could feel myself becoming annoyed. Right in front of me were the lovely brown shells of two eggs I had just used in the banana bread batter. Those eggs came from hens that run free, that greet us when we step from our car, that I've watched chase bugs across the yard. Happy hens...

I'm starting off the New Year with a very, very, very rough draft of my short story collection finally completed. The last story of the collection took me three years to write. I started over writing it four times as the first three attempts just didn't capture what I was hoping for. Months between starts and stops passed by. Then, recently, just before the end of the semester, as I was calculating grades for one of my classes, the way to write the story presented itself to me. I started writing it the first day of break.                                                                               Today, putting the last period in place on that story was one of the most satisfying feelings I've ever experienced. I still have a lot of rewriting to do to get everything right, I still ne...