Inadequate

Inadequate.

Everything rushed, nothing done right--more so to just get by, get through. But for what? To wake in the morning to the same gut-wrenching realization that it's the norm now.

My refusal to budge in the notion that it can be changed is like a lighthouse in the fog, bellowing to ships lost in the haze. Good captains, seasoned captains recognize the call. The others must answer for their own stubbornness. They are too busy doing ship things to hear the call--and now they've convinced themselves there was no foghorn, no signal, sent after all.

And they believe their lies.

The lighthouse isn't of much use during the day, the beautiful sunny lighted hours, but in the dark of the night? In the storm?

It can be changed. I'm sure of it.

Not Yet Thinking Clear Thoughts

This is the best I can do.

• I got my hair cut. I'm not sure if I like it.

• We're going to be Grandparents. Our grandbaby is due April 23rd.

• I filled in at AWP Thursday and Friday. I wish I would've got to meet Mort Castle. I didn't know he was there.

• I paid freaking $9 for a coffee and a bagel at the hotel.

• I promptly found Caribou Coffee and Jimmy John's around the corner.

• It was affirmed to me that I do not belong in academia, I am not a literary author.

• I am a simple woman.

• I enjoy simple things.

• Do we really need to analyze memoir as a genre?

• Can one be a memoirist? I mean, really, how many memoirs can one write?

• I went to Toys R Us and scored a sweet deal on baby clothes. $150 worth for $50!

• I'm going to be a grandma!

• I didn't finish my February 1-14 Scripture Art. It still looks the same.

• I have to pick a new Scripture today and I'm clueless.

• I keep listening to Jeremy Camp's Beyond Measure.

• While I was in Chicago for AWP, I just happened to run into my friend Eric, a professional snowboarder. I haven't seen him in 18 years! And there he was, across the street from the Hilton at Grant Park. I want to be a ripper now!

• Once again, more confirmation that I do not belong in academia. I have more in common with punks who carry snowboards. ;)

• The Indiana Horror Writer's Annual Winter Retreat is coming up. I totally can't wait!

• I have to go to the chiropractor today.

• I'm going to be a freaking grandma!

• I discovered Ben Percy at AWP. For some reason, he reminds me of Kealan Patrick Burke.

There's more. I just can't do it right now.

I'm so Bad Sometimes--Makes It Hard to be a "Good Christian"

Things I've been known to do, or think, or want really, really bad to do.

• I drop the F-bomb.

• I wish stupid people would go live on their own planet and breed merrily--far, far away from me.

• I wonder how some people get by.

• I want to send the secrets I know about people who have betrayed me to PostSecret. (This is like #1 on my list. You should see the postcards I have made in my head)

• I wish I could stab people with a fork who make slurpy, smacking noises when they eat. (waving at Sher!)

• And yeah I want to slap people who are on Nanny 911 and have their kids on leashes. (Sher again!)

All that adds up to a recipe for a "bad Christian" but I'm not perfect and I don't know how to be even though I'm a perfectionist with OCD tendencies and I drive myself freaking crazy sometimes.

That's all. Just had to get that out.

Random Bits

• We've moved back into our house. You didn't know we had left? See this post.

• We had a lot of visitors over the weekend. And I hadn't done anything to the house other than help Phil with the basement.

• The first half of July 4 was totally enjoyable. The latter half, not so much. "Not so much" is an understatement. It ranks as one of the Worst Days Ever.

• July 5 was much better than July 4. Events of July 4th were worked out and the pattern has been identified. Next year things will be different.

• July 6 was kinda shitty too. But in the end, that worked out too.

• Today is a weird day. I don't know what to make of it yet. But I found out Brian Keene had a flood in his basement too. Brian, I will share my Maker's Mark with you or babysit so you and Cassi can share it.
  

• Zane got a new puppy. Pictures coming soon.

Stuff

I watched for the first time ever this past weekend:

• Indiana Jones Raiders of the Lost Ark
• Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
• Sweeney Todd
• Blade Runner

• Phil and I made 6 dozen authentic tamales (beef and pork mixed,) Puerto Rican rice, salsa fresca, salsa verde, and twelve loaves of old fashioned banana bread.
• I drank two bottles of wine. The first was Riesling and the second was Sangria. Oh and I had a vanilla rum and diet Coke slushie that was fabulous!

Hope your weekend was just as good!
We had a wonderfully relaxing weekend.

I Wonder.

I wonder.

When God starts moving and I start really listening, I wonder what it is he's trying to say. I have my ideas, these grandiose versions of The Plan, these little dots splattered on the atlas of my life, but they really hardly ever lead where I envision.

I go to a place like Calvin for their Festival of Faith & Writing and know within seconds that I'm somewhere I totally don't belong. Please don't get me wrong. It was a great conference, and I met fabulous people. But I'm not all that.

I can't say for sure the exact reason I went. Coach said the Relief team was going and it'd be great if I came and represented The Diner. So I did.

My worst habit is that I find a million things that bug me. I do it all the time. I'm relentless and ruthless in my head. Sometimes out loud. Most of the time in my head though. Things that bug me about conferences like this are (in no particular order):

• People who are fake.
• People who pretend they're listening but aren't.
• People who won't tell the truth.
• People who are pretentious and pompous.
• People who act differently in front of different people.
  

I guess those things are probably all related. They drive me freaking nuts. And the people who have those attributes probably want to smack me to Ohio. We don't get along. At least I see it.

Maybe they don't because they're too busy putting on a smile and watching that prospective agent from across the room. They can't read the sarcasm in my remarks because they've stopped listening, they're reading the lips of the editor that's talking with that prospective agent. They laugh that fake laugh like they're paying attention to me because I laughed, but I said that my grandfather was my least favorite person because he was fake and they didn't even catch that I was cutting them down. They push me aside with a tart, "Excuse me," as the agent makes his way near us. They push out their hands, shake with enthusiasm the agent's hand while speaking of high brow literary bullshit. And it's always funny to watch the agent regard them in the same way they just did me while the agent jokes with me about writing horror.

Or something like that.

And then I wonder what God meant by that.

Donated Breastmilk Saves Baby Isabella's Life

Isabella was born premature and weighed one pound, 2/3 ounces on Jan. 9, 2008.
(Photo credit: Jerry Sciulli)

I saw this on the news the other night. I was eating dinner while watching the news--something I don't do too often. I had one of those cries that are good and bad at the same time. Still today, reading the article again, I am at once heartbroke and full of awe and amazement.

It is also one of those moments that somehow still come, more infrequent now, yet, it happens nonetheless. The "ninnies" (as Zane called them) feel the let-down again. The sensation that it's time to nurse hits full force and I don't understand how, five years after Zane weaned, I can feel as if I could pick up a baby right now and nurse. But it happens.

And I wish I still had milk I could donate.

I don't want to summarize the story. Please, go watch or read it yourself.

Click here to watch the video.

Click here for the online article.

Click Here: Learn More About the International Breast Milk Project.

Report: Day Two & Three Without TV. Superbowl Weekend.

I was trying to work on a new short story and I just can't concentrate. I thought I'd blog for a few minutes--y'know, clear my head.

Saturday went horrendous without TV. Phil got tons of stuff done that he has put off hasn't had time to do, like making our shower work. We thought maybe our well pump was going out. Turns out, the fixtures were full of gunk. That's the part about living out here in the middle of nowhere that I like the least. Our water sucks. It's hard, metallic, rusty, and gross. We buy lots of salt and filters.

He also moved our thermostat. With the woodburning stove (we sound like Little House on the Prairie, don't we?) Anyway, I have a tendency to make the house way too hot, like 90-100 degrees in the living room. Ask Jen. We had all the windows in the living room open when we watched Indochine and it was still 86 degrees in the house.

Phil finished cleaning the garage and changed the oil in his car.

I screwed around on the computertried to write. I read a lot of research stuff. Watched some videos of Elvis singing and JFK getting shot. Read about the Miami Indian tribe and the mounds here in Starke County.

I cleaned out the fridge. Took a shower. Played a round of some survival game with Zane and Phil. Yelled at Eplained to Zane why we couldn't watch TV.

Oh yeah, and I played with my oil crayons. I drew the flower and colored the leaf (I had did a pencil rubbing of the leaf in the fall, I found it in the sketch pad and started coloring).






I almost color coded my books, but I wanted to work on my story which is stuck at about 2,000 words.

Writing, back to the grind

• Last week, my friend needed me to help take care of her kids while her husband was in the hospital. I stayed at her house a few days, I did work on the story a little, but not as much as I would have liked to. Given the circumstances though, I did ok.
  
  I think I mentioned this, but I can't remember. One day, I got stuck and words wouldn't come out. I decided to grab some paper and a pencil and lay down on the floor to draw the cane the Old Man in my story whittled. And it came out so much better than I thought it would. This creative process brought out a theme of the book I didn't fully understand, it was like a light went on. I don't understand how I can write this story and not know this stuff, maybe its just hidden in my subconscious and I don't realize it. However that works, I don't think I'll be the one to figure it out. The drawing happened, it worked, I get it now like I didn't before and the words are flowing.

• We had a busy weekend. Friday we saw a special presentation at the Merrillville Planetarium with Jen and her kids.

• Saturday, Jeremy Camp and Mainstay concert (pictures coming soon.)

• Sunday, my nephew's birthday party plus an added bonus: a trip to the Grand Opening of the new Cabela's! Phil got his Christmas present (early of course) and I picked up a few things for my Cowboy Christmas tree.

• Monday was spent catching up on things here at home and ordering some goodies for the Cowboy Christmas tree. You are going to love this thing! I'm so excited!

• So, here we are at Tuesday. The house is pretty well maintained since we haven't really been here. I have a couple loads of laundry to do and the living room needs to be straightened, but its good for the most part.

I have no clue yet what I'll be doing for Tackle It Tuesday. I've spent a bit of time reading the last scene of Whisky Lilacs and writing a bit more, Phil's getting up soon and I need to make his breakfast and fix his lunch so after I see him off to work, I'll finish my word quota and THEN concentrate on Tackling something other than this blog. LOL

Random Bits

• I found this guy, Rene Gruss, on MySpace I loved Bellatrix (free download this month.) I bought the whole album, right now Bellatrix remains my favorite.

• I found this other guy, Brian Gleason, on MySpace, he has the most amazing natural country voice I've heard next to George Jones, George Strait, Josh Turner (Jeremy Camp, outside of country)--I mean one of those voices you hear and you know who it is, not because they've been played non-stop, but this guy has a I-have-to-listen-to-more voice. He's incredible. He just sits down with his guitar and sings, he's mostly put up requests. I'm not one who likes to stray from the original artist, I listened to him sing The Dance (Garth Brooks) and Anymore (Travis Tritt)
  

• I'm behind on my word count because I was helping Kimmie by taking care of her kids, her husband's in the hospital. I decided that even if I didn't hit my target every single day, as long as I wrote, as long as I moved the novel forward on days like these past few, I'm good.

• Yesterday, I didn't write words, but I pulled out paper and pencil and drew. One of my characters carves canes and I needed a visual, but nothing exists like Orville's walking stick, so I had to create it. If you know about Orville's canes and you want to see the drawing, email me. Now, what I need is a real artist to make my elementary drawing into something beautiful. Any one out there?

• So, I contradicted myself because I didn't write words yesterday, didn't "move" the novel forward. But that's not the truth, I moved the novel forward more than if I'd written 10,000 words. Drawing that whittled cane moved the story forward and I discovered a theme I kind of knew was there, but the cane drawing made it POP for me.
  

• I don't have to be like everyone else when I create. If drawing a cane helps me wrap up an important theme of the book, I give myself permission to pursue those creative endeavors.

• I like reading good books. If I don't like a book, I give myself permission to put it down even if the whole world loves it. (Faulker, As I Lay Dying) I can't read it anymore. I'm done. I don't like it. at. all.
  

• We're going to see Jeremy Camp again this weekend! If you haven't listened to him, you should.

• I've been remembering a lot of dreams lately. So far, two of them will be stories. Don't know if they'll be short stories or novels, they both have the potential to be either. We'll see what comes out.
  

• I got some really, really, extra super cool news a little while ago but I don't know if I can say anything yet. It's pretty much killing me to keep secrets.