Happy Anniversary!

This post

is number 500!

(minus the deleted entry due to spam up the ying-yang)
-aside from a picture of Grandma, you aren’t missing anything

I have also

been scribbling

My thoughts & ramblings

for two years

As of the end of March

(1st post - March 30^th, 2009)

Exciting Times At

A New Day

>< >< ><

Those are my 55 words for G-Man

but I thought I would celebrate

by re-posting a few pics

of the woman behind the

blinking cursor

Taken during renos that got a lot of blog play back in Jan 2010

There I am with my boyfriend on a date away from the computer

Loafing again - From Dec 2010 snowstorm

A Delightful take of me from Christmas 2010 (must have had a few drinks that day!)

Aha, the missing photo!
Now you are all caught up.

so grab a glass of something yummy,

as its Friday night

and I think

the fact that I have kept at this little writing experiment

for two years!

is worth celebrating!

**CHEERS TO**

A NEW DAY!

may tomorrow bring you the heart

and wisdom that you desire

~

Reworked Dreams

Starving
Drunken Corpses
Wandering shadows of men

I see you staring at yesterday
Streaks of obsession mold you
Leave you old - dead words

Your belonging is gone
Now imagined
A past dream

Today,  a gray face
Slashed fingers grasping
The coin has rolled away

Scabbed hearts
And flaccid minds
Are all that caress you now

Tomorrow
What means Tomorrow
-Heaven in a grave cold.

     ^^^
This poem was written many years ago. Re-reading it now, I would perhaps move words around, change them up or maybe even scrap it altogether. It was actually even a re-writing of another older poem that I had written entitled Tomorrow. I don't have the date on Tomorrow (I tended to put dates on poems even then with dreams of the legacy I would leave), but I believe it was written in 1992. Reworked Dreams was written in April, 1995.

I highlight it here today, as this was the first poem I had published. For me it was so exciting at the time. I guess it still is, although I have since read that the tome that it was published in was nothing more than a sham. I was young and goggle-eyed with thoughts of seeing my name in the printed form, and bought into their "competition". The National Library of Poetry seemed to publish everything that was sent to them though (regardless of merit I have since read), but the kicker was the buying of the book that it would appear in. Of course I bought a copy of Shadows and Light. I even got a notification that I was in the top 3% of entries, therefore receiving an Editor's Choice award. Wow!

The burst bubble didn't hurt that bad though. While it is disappointing that there wasn't any teeth behind their competitions, that amounted to nothing more than book promotions, the experience stayed with me. It helped to push me and keep me writing. I have a little book that has my poems in it written since as far back as 1991. I can see progression in my writing, but even better, can see that my muse has been with me for a long time. I still might not become a big, famous poet, but I can look back with pride in my will to create. For that is the heart of writing in my books.

I want to thank One Stop Poetry for the prompt today. They suggested telling them where we began our poetry career. I suspect that the stories of the myriad of poets that are out there hold some fascinating reading in themselves. My story started in my teens, but has carried through the years with encouragement from occasional writing contests, well-received poems for friends and family in greeting cards, my own personal drive to get the words running through my head down on paper, and of course my blog. It might not wow anybody, but getting this poem published was another huge affirmation for me that this was what I wanted to do. And I am doing it.

The Writing of an Adventure

Just over a year ago a thought crossed my mind for a story idea. It started like this;

   "Once upon a time, a young woman sat waiting for the call."

The story featured a young woman who was on the road to adventure. At the beginning she wasn't very excited about it. I wasn't sure if I would have anyone interested in her story either.

The first comment I received on the post was this though;

   Me said...

     You forgot to write: "To be continued..."

     You *are* going to continue, right? ;)


And continue I did.


Since that first warm reception, I went on to add 55 more excerpts to the story I began on February 12, 2010. While the story started in the style of a fiction piece, and a few wondered if this was a dream of mine, by the fourth excerpt I let my readers in on the fact that this was indeed a true story. In fact, the story was my own.


In case you haven't followed any of it, the story is of my travels through Africa several years ago. It took a few entries to test the water and see if my story was worth sharing, but it has been obvious to me that it has. Friends have been awed by my adventure, grossed out by the food I ate, and worried for my security in dangerous situations. Lovely visitors have thrilled me by sharing that my tale has been passed along to curious family and friends. Others have expressed jealousy at my far-flung adventures, wishing that they could claim the experiences as their own. I take it all as compliments and allow it to fuel the fire in my brain to keep the story flowing.


When I first started writing of my travels, the entries were sporadic. I began with a burst of writing, with excerpts three days in a row, then slowly tapered off. Some weeks I posted two days in a row, other times it would be almost two weeks between adventures. On average though, I continued my story about once a week.


In 2011, I decided to give myself a schedule for my tale. You see I was gone for ten months, so my story holds many adventures in its pages. Some particularly gripping tales have even required two or three entries to conclude a section of the tale. As of January, I decided that I would post once a week and selected Monday as a good day to fly across the world for a spell of African Adventure.


You know what I am personally loving about all of this though? Aside from the fact that the telling of the tale is helping to hone my writing skills, I am loving stepping back into this adventure. My wandering ways are like a pleasant dream from another lifetime ago. It is so hard to imagine myself as this girl sometimes, but indeed it was. Life has held many other adventures since then, many not nearly as pleasant, but many moreso. As I re-read the journals I kept during my wanders through Africa, I step right back into the pages of that life. This winter with wind howling outside my window, I have walked the African savannah, awed by the animals just outside arms reach. The dry African heat has warmed my soul, despite the deep-freeze outside my door. As soon as I open my journal to read a few sentences, I find myself smiling. I am no longer in this chair at this desk, but rather half a world away and gone more than a lifetime ago.


What I do have to thank you lovely people for though is your support in all of this. This story has been aching to be written for many years. I believe that I came home knowing that I would write of my adventures one day, but never guessed that it would take this long to come to fruition. I even started the tale several years back, but quickly lost the drive to continue. Finding this venue for my tale has been exactly what I needed though. I write in snapshots, filtered through my journals and through my life since then. I try to stay true to the tales, but know that small details can be added or removed not harming the telling of my story. The snapshots I capture within a blog post are perfect though. I can build drama, paint pictures and be informative, all within the confines of several hundred words. The pictures in my mind will always be mine, but in the sharing, they come alive all over again.

SEO- Getting to Know my Stuff

A whirlwind is whipping around in my head. I spent the morning discussing social media with a friend who is looking to expand his presence in the world wide web. We talked blog talk and I fear I stuffed his brain to overflowing. He looked at me with shock, perhaps awe, and definitely incredulity at what I was saying. I talked about widgets, tags, posts, comments, SEO,  and touched on how it all affects your presence on the web. For every post you put out and the frequency you put it out there, the higher you rank in search engine finds. It makes sense, but there are so many ways to spin anything you do. When you start it seems huge. When you have been doing it for a while, it still seems huge. I know that the more I know, the more I realize that I have so much more to learn.

What I found interesting in talking to a friend about social media was how much I really DO know. I am also taking a writing course and last week we interviewed classmates. The gentleman that interviewed me is formulating his interview about me and my writing, and my presence on the internet. Questions like, "How long have you been maintaining your blog?", "How does the social community you have linked up with affect your writing?", and "Who is your audience for your blog?" were posed. All good questions that made me think.

And what did I think about, you ask? Well, I started this blog almost two years ago, but only started to hit a bit of a stride just over a year ago. The more I interact with others in the blogosphere and social media networking sites, the more I learn and grow. Participating in various memes, like Magpie Tales, Monkey Man's Sunday 160, G-Man's Flash Fiction Friday, or my favourite poetry day at One Shot Wednesday, really challenges me as a writer to write, write, write. Sometimes the challenge is to write in a certain number of words or characters. This has helped me to let go of flowery words that really don't always help my writing. Visiting picture prompt sites gives me inspiration to write in my own voice, but taken from a specific angle. One Shot is an excellent home to search other poets and learn new styles  and just read lots of great poetry, plus the bonus of potentially having people come and view my own poetry. More comments means that perhaps people have really liked what I have written. Sometimes people will comment on specific lines that have jumped out at them that they have really liked. That tells me that I am doing something right. Other times, I have had the joy of having new followers, and that helps to build up the old confidence meter a notch or two. That means I have done something right either more than once, or at the very least, I have done one thing REALLY good and my readers feel that there is a high potential for me to do that again. Both good things in my books.

You out there in the blog-o-sphere know all of this yourself. I have read many a post of people looking for visitors, hoping for comments and growing from the regular comments and support that is received in this world that we blog in. That support keeps on bringing us back again and again. Every time we write, we get better at our craft. This truly is a craft as well. We are writers, poets, and creative beings coming together. For every site I visit, I push your SEO numbers higher and in turn my own. Looking back over my many hours spent blogging, I am happy with where I have come. My writing is better, my confidence is better, and my presence just keeps growing. I will still have my down days, those days when the cursor blinks and nary a word is to be found, but the look of awe helps me to see that maybe I do have a smidgen of expertise in this field. That is something to give myself kudos for. And you as well my bloggy friends. We are in this together, and together we rise.

Write on my friends. Write on...

Journalling

Journals have always been a part of my life. They have been a friend, space for thoughts and poems, testing ground for new ideas, as well as the interminable lists that reign my life as of late. I still have several that I kept from back in high school and have three actively on the go at present. One lives on my beside table, the other journeys with me in the car, keeping me company in coffee shops and while waiting for appointments. The last is more for work, where I hastily jot down ideas that are suggested for new directions of projects by my "Boss Lady". She is a phenomenal whirlwind of ideas and I have to desperately catch the thoughts that spring from her like a fountain. I listen, understand, but without some kind of notes, am hard pressed to have all the fine details later when I need to plug away at something in the comfort of my own home. That journal should be a tome, but unfortunately always seems to be lacking that tiny sprig of information that I need right NOW.

Journals have helped pave the way to my African stories that I share here with you lovely people, as well. I brought home three journals from my trip and they help to feed details into the story that I am breathing to life. Without my journals, I would have lost little details that bring my journey back fresh as day for me, and subsequently you. My scribbles are priceless to me.

Journals have also soaked up many, many tears through the years of my husband's illness and beyond. Grief filled pages as the only outlet that I could turn to where I was safe. Of course, that isn't completely true, but in the depths of my sorrows I felt vastly small and alone. Getting all of the hard and poisonous thoughts out of my head and onto paper helped me to see them, understand them better and in many cases, let them go. Those journals will travel with me, bringing me insight and reminding me of the long road I have travelled in darker days. That road is life and it continues still, but new journals have taken their place.

While I now often find myself at the computer writing poetry and prose, I still value my journals. In the pages of my journals, I can be kind or cruel to me, as the season fits. I am not perfect, and am often my worst critic, but in releasing this to a journal, I sometimes find release to myself. Stepping back onto the yoga mat this morning reminded me that I need to be kind to myself and make time for me. Allowing myself space to breathe, and also write, is key to my survival. I am flesh and blood, and my pen bleeds emotions over the page. I need this. It balances me.

Today's journal entry looked back at grief. Over breakfast my 5 year-old declared that losing a partner was worse than losing a child. She noted that losing a partner meant that the remaining parent had to do everything themselves, like taking out the garbage, making meals (with a little help from the kids once in a while), and everything. Her statement is absolutely right and she knows it from watching me day in and day out, but I gently reminded her that losing a child was equally devastating. I reminded her of my aunt who lost a daughter and how she might be able to rhyme off several reasons why that was worse. A child represents the future and the best of you, but I don't need to go into that further here. Everyone's grief is different, none better or worse than another. I will just say, that the fact that she is processing this aspect of grief makes me sad, and makes me wonder if she feels like a burden tied around my neck. I don't really think so, but the thought crossed my mind. She is such a serious child. She reminds me so much of myself. Trying to fill the role of little mother, when she/I knew that the need was there. Doing the utmost to make me happy and proud (in hopes of staving off those tears that reigned for so long?). Her view of the world through my grief was probably worse than losing her father at the time. She lost him physically, but her remaining parent swirled out of control on a wave of never-ending tears. Any time a tear comes to my eye or slides down my check now, she questions why and what it is for. Both my girls do. That is my reality though.

So, what is the point today? Do you journal? Do you have thoughts in your head that swirl around making you crazy, sad, confused or numb? Don't we all at some point or another? My journal, while sometimes waxing and waning, has been my best friend, companion and lifeline for as long as I can remember. It does not critique your grammar, spelling or punctuation. It takes your thoughts without judgement and allows you them. If you are ever in a difficult spot in your life, give it a try sometime. You don't have to keep it forever or even for the day. A napkin can act as journal space to help you unjumble thoughts, and then be tossed in the refuse after you are done with it. No one is the wiser, but you. Some day, it might even save your life. Try it, you might find you like it. It is all about you...

The Writer

Ahem...

I have a new title. "Business Manager"; that's what I am. It sounds so officious. I could write up business cards, if i so desired. I really am tickled. This is another step on the path towards me.

I need to take this seriously, and indeed I am. My new office space is my promise to myself. My little corner of the living room is my way of saying that I "am" a writer. This is a valid path for me right now and I am okay with that. More than OK, I am truly ecstatic to be allowing myself to fill these shoes. I think a piece of me has always imagined that this could be a reality for me, but now I am letting it happen. I sit at my new desk every day. I have been typing and tapping into my laptop for a long time now, but it is finally coming together. It really is.

I still cannot claim much in the published world, but letting myself fill this space is a pretty special venture. For so long, I did not feel like I could truly validate my little attempts at creativity. I felt like I needed to stop and get on  with the business of real life, GET A REAL JOB! The world has given me several positive nods though and now I am at the point where I am willing to give myself that nod as well. 

So how is it that I define myself as a writer? Well, I plug away at my two books fairly often and finished tinkering with my poetry chapbook. Most of you will not see the chapbook, as it is just a compilation of poetry that I made for my book club, but it was a challenging and fun project for me. I think I can consider it testing ground for when my other books are ready for some unknown publisher's eyes, but I cannot wait to have my little creation in my hand just to say that I brought this little thing into existence.

While my plugging away at my unpaid labour is all very valiant, it does not pay the bills at present. That brings me back to my new title of Business Manager. It makes me smile just saying it. And it really is a real title too, although applied in a very friendly way. I manage all the admin details of a Blog Talk Radio show. A friend of mine interviews authors and I have now officially taken over all of the admin work for the show. It isn't glamorous, but it does bring some money in, which in turn allows me to stay home and plug away at my books. There are other social media projects that I handle for the same woman and again, they are not glamorous, but they buy groceries. 

So with the help of friends this evening, some shelves were hung and my new office space is coming on to complete. I popped an English language dictionary on the shelf and balanced it with a plant in the other corner. As is my wont, some rocks or crystals will be added, as well as some other books. I think my little corner is just beautiful though. It is my step in believing in me and the future. The future is in my hands. I write my story and today it is filled with heart.

Haiku

empty page sits

no words from a full heart

scribbled pages on floor

Birds of a Feather

"Like birds of a feather, we flock together"

Here is a refrain that resonates in the heart of blogland. We come together to listen, share and offer support. While we all have questioned why we are here at times, and why we stay, the answer resonates on the very next page that pops up. It seems like when we have a need, that niche is filled by someone's page or another. I cannot tell you how many times I have found the exact words I have needed to hear, just when I needed them most. They are there in this lovely community that reaches out to support us all.

Yes, for you see, we are all kin come together to bond. We see ourselves through other's eyes and process. I have given hugs, gotten more and found understanding in a world that exists only in the ethers. I have laughed and cried, and sat back to ponder what it all means. True, some days it has a WTF quality, but the places that don't fit can be abandoned, to be replaced by sites that fit our needs better. As we are all unique individuals, the wealth of blogs available to any one person, should be enough to fill anybody's needs.

And then You arrive. To let you in on a little secret, You are why I come back every day. For I need to write, but with you I can thrive. My words are rounder, fuller, more robust and I know it is because I write for you. Yes, my words are my babies and I love and nurture them from my heart, but you are there too. Thank you. 

I have spied awards on people's pages and have certainly received a few of my own. I had it in my mind to make some such thing, but I realized I don't need to. For those that stop by and read these words, know this is for you. Thank you for visiting and listening to my mind's inner workings. Scary thought some days, but I thank you none-the-less. I wish you peace and strength in all your characters to always find a way.  For as birds of a feather, we flock together. You are part of my flock and I wish you well for the general health of you and consequently me. 

Happy Anniversary to Me

   Hello my bloggy friends!

   I am coming up on a milestone that I wanted to share. I started this blog a year ago this month. When I started out, I knew little about the blogosphere and what it contained. I noted in my first entry that an acquaintance had seen me scribbling in my journal at a coffee shop and suggested that perhaps starting a blog might help me towards the publishing world. Well, a year later and I am probably not any closer to being published. (sigh). Really, that is okay though. I started this blog as an experiment and it has taken over my life. I now write in it every day. Not every day is wonderfully deep or contains fabulous prose, but I try to make a point of showing up. And you know what I have learned? That the more I write, the better a writer I become. So while publishers are not knocking down my door with offers of book deals to keep me fabulously wealthy for years to come, a little bit of me believes that with a little more perseverance, those published words of mine are closer than I think.

   You see, I have always had a fondness for the written word. As a young child I could be found with my nose in a book exploring the far reaches of the universe. My sister would encourage me to go out and play with her and her friends. Sometimes I would join her. Many times I would decline, as I was in a particularly delicious part of a story. I have made many friends through the books that have littered my bedside table. I believe that all of those books and all of those words have filled me up. They filled me up and filled me up and now they are slowly seeping out of me. Every day that I tap words and sentences into the computer, they slowly stand up a little taller and straighter. I wander through other people's worlds exploring their thoughts, taking what ideas I see work and making them my own. The talent pool that is out there is magnificent and for me, inspiring.  I even took a writing course this winter to hone some of my talents and expand my knowledge of how to put "me" out there on a bigger scale. I am pulling this information in, processing it and thinking. The figuring can be a slow process sometimes, but I sit with it.

   So today I can look back and say, "This may just be a blog", but I know different. You that sit there reading my words, you encourage me to come back tomorrow and tomorrow. You that sit there and read my words make me the author that I have always aspired to be. For regardless of whether my thoughts and words ever show up between the pages of a bound book, my words are already out there. I have read them. Many others have as well. Your comments let me know that. Your praise has touched my soul. A thank you is tossed into the winds with arms wrapped with hugs. For while I would truly LOVE to see my name on the front cover of a book, I am okay if it takes a while yet.

Thank you...

Thank you...

Saturday Segways

   I have just come across  from my writing course. I am taking a digital  writing course that offers suggestions as to how to promote myself in the digital age. It is an online course with approximately 15 people in the class. This week has been my workshop week. I submitted an early section  from a biography piece I am working on about my cancer journey with Brad. I debated whether I should use this piece, but thought that if I hope to have my words go further into the ethers at any stage, this might be a good forum to introduce it. As I noted to a classmate that gave me comment, they are anonymous for the most part, as I shall probably not meet any of them.  I can read their comments and either take them or run from them as I see fit. They do not have to worry about offending someone that they have vested interest in. I hoped that would elicit honesty. While it is a heavy subject that people have noted and are somewhat leery of cutting apart, I think that I was correct in my assumptions. I have had some good points offered, that has led to some editing. I even offered the same section, plus more to a friend for some critiquing. Before now all these thousands of words have just been mine to play around with. I am beginning the process of changing that. I think that my positive comments from my African tale have helped with that. Thank you to all of you readers out in blog-land!

    While more thoughts could have puttered out there in regards to this, distraction has floundered the writing machine. Grandma and Grandpa have arrived with gifts in tow for two little girls. So alas, I must leave you my dear readers. Perhaps tomorrow I will remember if there was point in what I was about to say. I leave you with thank yous for giving me the confidence to be here every day. Be well. Sunshine wishes to you all.

Job Title: Author

   I am a little hesitant to say anything, but what the heck. Are we not in the blogosphere to put our words across? To make our voice heard? Do we not take that giant leap of faith in thinking that someone might possibly have some little interest in the things rolling around our heads and what conceivably falls out? Yeah, something like that. I do not have readers falling all over me, but I know there are a few of you who wander by my page to see what interesting things I might spout today. So I will let you in on a little secret. Are you ready?

   I want to be a writer. 

   "WOW", I hear you say. "Yeah, join the club!"

   For those of us that write blogs, I can guess that we all are writers in our own sets. Presumably we would all love to be writers with a capital W. Generally, we accept that this golden dream does not happen for everyone. Well, today I took another step in that direction. I submitted a children's book for consideration. It is a silly animal ABC book. The odds of it getting published are questionable, but the point is that I am taking that first step. I have submitted a few poems to poetry sites as well, with no hits yet. This feels bigger though. It is a bit of a testing ground for me. I am taking a writing course at present which seems to be keeping my writing alive and well. I figured that if I truly want to make a go at being a writer, then I have to start somewhere. So I start by submitting my words out there. I am leaning quietly out of my comfort zone in hopes that I will not be shot down, or worse ignored completely. They both may happen, but I have to know that it happens to the best of them. So today as I sit pondering what life may look like in the future, that darned "What am I going to be when I grow up?" maybe I can hope and pray that some day I can say with pride that I am an author.

November begins

Oops, I missed yesterday. I have noticed that my blog entries had been more numerous, so aspired that perhaps I would write every day in the month of November. Oh well. Maybe almost every day. Perhaps the month of December I will be that much better at this, so therefore will be writing something meaningful every day.

Or maybe not.

So far not inspired tonight. Perhaps it is because I am battling a cold. Perhaps because I am distracted by a friend on FB. Perhaps because I worked today and am tired. Yes, you heard me correct, I worked today. Just a short-term thing, but right up my alley. I am back to the land of messy messy painting and solving all the problems of the universe over a cup of joe and a paint brush. Art therapy began today and will last for 3-4 weeks, maybe longer if I am lucky. I don't get paid well, but I do get paid to help create nifty, crafty, colouful pieces. Yeah for me. Especially as it is only 2 days a week. Perfect!

rambling

Oh my, it is Wednesday and I have not written anything since Sunday! Corrie is putting me to shame ;) Just teasing Corrie! I am enjoying the process of blogging, whether I have many readers or not. I was daring and introduced my blog to my Mother, which she cautioned me about. I have let "friends" on facebook peruse my inner workings and have not fallen prey to all the ills in the world, although I am sure there is still time for that. I write about experiences from my day and thoughts from my head. It is therapeutic and I like it. I have surprised myself for sticking with it fairly faithfully as well. I started this blog in the spring in a halting manner, but have been fairly regular this fall. Pat on the back from me!

So what is new in my world? My poor kitty is sick and the vet is not quite sure what is wrong with her. She appears to be steadily draining my bank account, but I am okay with that to a certain extent. It is hard to deny health for a member of the family. This has caused me some stress this week, but I countered that with sonic drumming tonight and my weekly dinner with Nancy, David and Ella last night. I get to see my sister tomorrow for a quick visit. She is coming into town for a somber affair, but a good one. My Aunt renovated the courtyard at the high school in Dorchester with some of the funds from Meagan's trust fund. For those of you who are not in the know, my cousin Meagan died in a skiing accident about a year and a half ago. We have all been shaken up by it, but my Aunt (her Mother) put her energy into redoing the courtyard in Meagan's memory. The official dedication is tomorrow evening. My Mother and Step-Father will be in town as well, so it will be a bittersweet gathering. A beautiful legacy for a life lost too soon. Sigh...

And I also did some writing today. I kind of have this notion that one day a book will pour forth from me. When I can I sit down and write some of it down. I am not sure if I will ever see the end of it or if it will ever go to print, but it is a cathartic affair none the less. And now it is bed time, as we were up early this morning that got cancelled due to weather. Tomorrow may need some extra reserves in the emotional department though. Anon, goodnight

At the end of a new Day

I met someone in the coffee shop I frequent who suggested that I start a blog. He had seen me with pen in hand pouring out my soul to a little notebook. My journal often holds my thoughts and helps me to sleep at night, but sometimes those thoughts need to be written down so that you can look at them and figure them out, day or night. My journal rests on my bedside table and is my confidante after the kids are in bed. My notebook is my list holder, shopping aide, and emergency friend when I need to get something out of my head, so I can analyze more fully what my brain is thinking and doing. Crazy brain has a mind of its own sometimes and I need to stop and figure it out.

Anyway, I thought that a blog might be another interesting spot to let my thoughts pour out. Maybe someone will have additional insight into life's mysteries and point them out to me. We all need a helping hand sometimes! So a blog has been added to my life. We shall see if it brings me insight from myself or others, but for now I must rest my head and say goodnight.