The Legendary Yeti by Laura Hunsaker

 I probably should be writing about something book-related, but honestly, I just really want to talk about Yeti.

He's my new dog.

This good boy was found trying to get into the fire station. One of the guys fostered him for about a month, but this skinny white husky pup needed a forever home. My husband sent me a photo of him without any context. Just a cute 1 year old husky pic. He took the kids to meet him, and the meeting went really well. We picked him up in August and we're almost 2 months into having him.

He's such a lovebug. I really expected a lot of issues since he'd been on the streets for who knows how long. But he just adores the kids and his favorite thing is his 3:00 nap. 

I've never been the type of person to allow dogs on my furniture, but well, he's won me over. He's also claimed a blanket as his own. Here he is after gathering it up for himself. It was flat on the couch (for dog hair purposes). He nibbles it, he moves it where he wants it, he burritos himself with it. He's just absolutely adorable. And he's my new couch buddy. 

I've started running again, I mean he's a 1 year old husky, so he needs activity. He and I go out every afternoon before dinner, and whoever is home in the morning takes him out then. But he and I have our runs every day, no matter what, and, wow. He's really fast. I don't know as I will ever truly be able to keep up with him, but he's kind enough to slow his pace for me LOL

And he is learning to play. He didn't play before we got him. In fact, we had to teach him to play fetch, and to play with toys. He's getting there. But you know what he does love? His blankie.

So this month, no book post, only the wild Yeti in his natural habitat-a cozy blanket. 

Ch-ch-changes by Liz Flaherty

It's such a pretty time of year here in Indiana's middle. The beanfields have gone from dark and heavy green to golden as the trees are trying on their shades of orange and yellow. Kids and teachers are back in school. Football and soccer fields have replaced baseball diamonds as the bleacher sites of choice. 

I've never been much of a fan of change. I despise DST with the kind of anger I reserve for pedophiles, racists, homophobes, and misogynists--yeah, I know that's extreme--and really wish Facebook would stop insisting everything in my house that I love is passe and obsolete and should be gotten rid of immediately if not sooner. Every time it's mentioned that Boomers are no longer relevant, I want to cry (I'm not only extreme, I can be childish as well), because I think we are relevant indeed. We have knowledge and memories to share, we are funny, we spend money, and we remember when kindness and truth were good things.

Oops, sorry-not-sorry, I didn't even intend to go there. 

Where I meant to go is to admit that I'm often wrong about change. Changes of seasons are just the tip of that iceberg. 

As in, for years and years, we drank a certain brand of coffee and we loved it. I remember when it came in one-, two-, and three-pound cans. Then, as the cans all grew smaller and the prices grew bigger, they started offering different blends, and we loved some of those, too, only every time we got used to one, they discontinued it, so we changed brands. 

It's better, and our chosen blends have been around for a long time. I wonder if it was better all along, or if we were the ones who changed. 

My grandkids all print. I think they can write in cursive, but they usually don't. In truth, I don't like it that it's not necessarily taught anymore, but that's because I DO still write in cursive, which means everyone should, right? I haven't yet looked at anyone and known which way they write, so maybe my concern is a non-starter. 

The moon--I think maybe it's the harvest moon; depends on who you ask--is extraordinary right now, and none of our pictures do it justice. It will still be extraordinary next week, too, but it will be different. It will change. And we'll still hang over the porch rail saying, "Oh, wow, look at that!"

I remember when cataract surgery required long hours of lying still. People approached it with dread. Now it's done with lasers. It's fast and painless. 

I used to have my oil changed every 2000 miles; now it's every 6000, and both the dash of my car and my phone let me know when it's time. 

If I were still working on a typewriter, I'm pretty sure I'd have given up writing books a long time ago or be spending much more than I can afford hiring a typist. 

So, yeah, I love...well, no...I accept that change is often good. Sometimes fun. And yes, of course that's my natural hair color--it hasn't changed at all. 

Speaking of change, I have a new release of an old book with a great new cover by Nancy Fraser. I hope you'll give The Girls of Tonsil Lake a look!

https://books2read.com/u/bxGQQk

https://a.co/d/h9vKvxL

Cautionary Tale by Joan Reeves

Today's post is short because I'm typing with my left hand only.

Why? Good question. I did something dumb. I picked up something heavy and felt a ping of pain in my right wrist.

Then I spent a couple of hours doing graphics work, using the mouse constantly, whih put more strain on my wrist.

I packed up my laptop so Darling Hubby and I could go to our house in the country.

Imagine my surprise this morning when I woke up and found my right wrist was a little swollen and about a 20 on a pain scale of 10. After ibuprofen and icing the delicate joint, I wrapped it in an ace bandage which helped a little. So instead of a pretty bracelet today, I'm sporting a good old ace bandage.

There are 3 things to learn from my mistakes.

1. Don't pick up something you know is too heavy!

2. When you feel pain in a joint, be smart and don't overwork it which exacerbates the issue.

3. Carry a microphone in your laptop case so you can dictate and continue writing—just in case you find yourself unable to type.

Wishing you a happy autumn which commenses in a few days. Now I'm going to sit on the porch, enjoy a cup of tea, and watch the clouds roll past.

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Treading Water by Bea Tifton

Sometimes life interferes. It just does. I love writing this blog and look forward to it all year, but now it’s late. I never used to miss deadlines. But as I’ve gotten older and life has become more complicated, I find that I don’t feel as organized. Sometimes I feel like I’m treading water. Sometimes I go under.

To be clear, Dear Reader, I have a good life. I have a few very close friends who are always in my lifeboat. They are different in personality and they have different talents, which is great. It helps add balance. But I know I can trust them and that’s what’s important. I have parents who love me. I have activities I enjoy. I volunteer for a pet rescue called Highway Hounds of Texas and it’s such an important organization. Saving lives and warming my heart. I also volunteer for a homeless program called Room in the Inn during the hottest part of the year and the coldest part of the year. The other volunteers are my friends, it’s so interesting to meet the unhoused men, and volunteering really restores my perspective!

But in our modern times, we are inundated with information. Too much, really. I use social media to keep up with people. Years ago, we would telephone, visit, or even (gasp!) write letters to keep in touch. Oh, how I miss getting and writing letters. But our country is in the midst of a cultural civil war. And I struggle with my friends who follow a person I just can’t imagine supporting. It’s gone beyond, “Agree to disagree” because we are developing different value systems. And there’s so much vitriol and disinformation on Facebook that it can be difficult to sift through it all.

And the news. We hear about things that happen all over the country, all over the planet. And that can be overwhelming. I truly believe there are more good people in the world than bad people, but the bad people do such horrible things and we hear so much about them. It’s hard to remember the good things. I used to watch the news several times a day. I’m down to once a day with my father each evening, but I may have to just take a break for a while. I like the human interest stories, so I’d like to just watch part of the news.

When we were locked down in a world-wide pandemic, people said they wouldn’t overschedule anymore. I was dubious, but hopeful. One of my favorite friends cares about me and thinks about me, I truly believe. But she’s too busy to get together. I miss her. I’m missing her kids growing up. But those kids are busier than a Fortune 500 CEO, and she has a job and a side business. I don’t know how she does it, brilliant and amazing as she is.

So, if you’re feeling a bit overloaded, remember that as trite as it is, it’s true: taking time out for yourself is not selfish. It’s refreshing, invigorating, recharging. It’s just as important to the people around you as it is for you because a car that’s run out of gas can’t help anyone. Take a news break. Take a break from the garbage on social media. If you must check, and I get it; I keep track of several people I love that way, think of it the way we should thing about work email. Check it twice a day. Or just check the pages that are positive and uplifting. And do the occasional frivolous thing. Don’t think of reading as nonessential. Reading recharges our brain and keeps it going through the years. Take a bubble bath. Go to a museum. Take a nature hike. Anything that recharges you. Or leave a day blissfully, wonderfully open and just relax.

And so I must conclude, Dear Reader. I have an appointment for a pedicure, and I feel delightfully decadent. It’s time to uplug.

(I would love for you to comment, but please don't include anything political in your post. 💓)

Photo Credits:Pexels.com
Laszlo Glatz "A Duck Paddling on Water"
Elena Saharova "Lifeboat in Calm Water in Dusk"
Darina Belonogova "WOman with Curly Hair with Hands on Her Head"
Ricardo Lima "An Old TV Set"
Arina Krasnikova "Girl in Green Dress Standing Behind Woman in Beige Shirt"
Anna Tarazevich "A Woman Meditating at the Beach"
Andrea Mosti "Close Up of Woman's Feet With Pink Toenails on Glittering Background"

The Dragon Amulet~ Sherri Easley

 

From as early as I can remember, I wanted to write a book. I bought the “how to” books and read them and even wrote several stories, but I didn’t know what to do once they were on paper. Even in college, I wanted to write but got the degree in Math instead, which was much easier for me. It wasn’t until years later that my friend Caroline showed me how that I finally published my first novel, something I wish I had done twenty years earlier.  

This summer, my granddaughter, Dylan, age 8, decided she wanted to write a book. You can’t imagine my excitement as I worked with her, showing her some tricks I had learned. I thought this would be a novelty and her interest would wane but to my amazement; she caught on to concepts like opening scenes and flaws that will challenge her characters during their adventures.

After two months, she had taught herself to type on the family desktop and had outlined three books. She drew her characters on paper and put notes on them so she could remember as she wrote.

Her first book will be: Harper Joy: Legend of the Dragon Amulet.

The book is about a young girl staying with her Japanese grandmother, Obasan, for the summer. While she is there, she finds half of a magic dragon amulet. The rest of the book is filled with her making new friends as she looks for the remaining half of the amulet, and about the magic the amulet holds.

Here is an unedited excerpt from her book. 

”But then Snooky ran away, the three girls chased Snooky, and then finally Harper caught her!

But when she got her, they were lost.

“Uh, where are we?” asked Mich.

“I don’t know,” said Harper.

The girls looked around but then three dragons flew in and caged them up. One of the dragons was big and had green blue on her wings and the second was purple and teal, and the smallest was pink and red. Mich and the smallest dragon were playing together while Ana was complaining and pouting.

Harper’s amulet was glowing, so she held it in her hand and then suddenly she knew exactly what they were saying.

Wow they are actually speaking! Harper yelled.”  

 

 ******************

Since we are going to publish this for her, I will help her edit her work and write in notes of where she needs to add details. So far, she has followed my instructions very well. 

It has been fun getting to see her excitement as she diligently works on her books and creates her characters and story. She has an amazing imagination and an incredible grasp of concepts. I can’t wait to see how this turns out. Stay tuned!

LIFE AND ART

 By Caroline Clemmons

Since I’ve been an adult, I have loved Monet’s paintings, especially those done of his garden in Giverny. I wanted to travel there, walk through the gardens, and stand on the little Japanese bridge. I haven’t made it. I have a print of the water lilies in our home and my daughter always gives me a Monet calendar at Christmas. When Monet’s works are on tour and accessible at the Kimball Museum in Fort Worth, I’ve gone to admire the paintings in person.

 

One of Monet's water lily paintings

Recently, our youngest daughter drove Hero and me around Lake Weatherford, west of Fort Worth. She was eager to show me the water lilies. We drove around the lake, and reached the water lily garden at the west end of the lake (at least that’s where it seemed to me). Seeing a mass of the flowers and pads spreading over an acre or more surprised me. What surprised me even more was the sweet fragrance filling the air. Who knew they had such a lovely aroma in a mass?

Of course, I had seen water lilies in Koi and other decorative ponds. Believe me, I had never seen flowers like those at Lake Weatherford this year. They were huge, some on stems standing above the water amid their large pads.  A floating boardwalk crosses a part of the flowers, but I am not steady enough on my feet to attempt that, eveen with the rope to act as a rail. Our daughter and a friend enjoyed the walk last summer, but she said the flowers are larger this year.

Many dozens of times Hero or he and I have driven to Lake Weatherford for his fishing or for us to visit friends who live there on a different part of the lake. This trip will be a lasting memory for me. The experience proves that we don’t have to depend on paintings—although they continue to give pleasure. We don't have to travel across the world. I’ll always admire Monet’s works, but, beauty is all around us if we only look.

Thanks for stopping by.