"Keep scribbling! Something will happen." Frank McCourt

Monday, August 07, 2017

When you are not who you think you are!

Yes, I own this book!
I like a good fairytale. So when a quiz, on the internet, lured me in, a quiz that could determine which Disney character  I am most like, I had to take it. I admit that I was certain the quiz would label me a Cinderella since I know her story better than anyone, in fairytale land. I mean, I pretended to be her every chance I got, in my childhood, not to mention that I find my life in ashes more times than I care to count. 

Let's start with 10 ways my life does not parallel Cinderella’s life:

1. My mother did not die when I was a youth. Therefore...

2. My father did not remarry or give me a wicked stepmother and two equally wicked stepsisters.

3. I did not have blond hair as a child/a teen/young adult (Disney version of hair).

4. My childhood home did not have a fireplace with ashes. 

5. I’ve yet to meet my fairy godmother, although I’m fair-ly certain she is out there somewhere. It’s just something a girl knows.

6. I’ve never successfully grown pumpkins so there would be none to turn into a carriage. 

7. I’ve never owned or tried on a glass slipper, let alone worn two.

8. Not once has any rat, mouse or bird ever spoken to me in my native language or helped me in any way attend a ball. Maybe because…

9. I’ve never attended a ball, in a castle, or danced with a prince--ever in my life.

10. I’ve never had a prince pursue me. However, I did marry a King, once-upon-a-time. We did not live happily ever after. True story.

Here are the similarities between Cinderella and me:

1. We're both females.

The Disney quiz revealed that I am not a Cinderella, but an Anna! “Who the heck is Anna?” I said out loud at the time. So I looked her up, and she’s a not so shabby character in the movie Frozen. And yes, I have watched Frozen, but I guess Anna didn’t stick in my brain as Cinderella did. 

The quiz results on being an Anna:  

“You’re fun, friendly, and slightly klutzy. You’re always up for an adventure and family comes first for you.”

Well they got the klutzy part correct. 

-T

Note 1: I've added a Millie tab. Note 2: Keep an eye out for a Ruralhood post on Saturday. 

Monday, May 22, 2017

When things happen


A pic of Millie, the Mal-Shi...
 just because.
For a while, I will mostly be posting at the neglected Ruralhood blog. I started The Ruralhood to tell my thoughts and stories of rural living as a young person. I share memories there so that they won’t (or might not) be lost.
Like everyone else, when bad things happen, we struggle. Our current struggle comes from the loss of a family member and missing him. My dad passed away in a hurry, March 13, 2017 (more about that later, at The Ruralhood). He was buried on March 17, St. Patrick's Day, which made me smile as if he ordered up the date. We're Irish-ish. Dad's family (of origin)  had mostly red hair--and temper. Therefore, road rage comes easy for me. We are sad about his absence, but what can a person do when something like this happens? It's either stop living or move forward. He ALWAYS moved forward. None of this, I'll sit down and let life's happenings crush me. He was forward thinking.
Random thoughts because...that is who I am:
  • A cousin told me at my dad’s viewing that he had read some of my posts at The Ruralhood. Who doesn't like when people read what you write (and tell you so)? Flattering, and yet, I felt exposed? So funny.
  • My mom has been reading my dad’s blog posts since his death. It’s been a way to connect. She feels so lost without him. I reread his blog, too, but while he was hospitalized. Mom hears Dad's voice through his writing. Keep that in your mind while you write. Our voice shows up in our writing. So.very.cool.
  • In the three years, since Millie bullied her way in came home with me, she has been a bit standoffish to other people, except for my daughter who "may" hold and "may" pet her. When my other family members visit, I can tell Millie wants to join in especially with the grandkids, but she doesn't. Not long after my dad’s passing, my family was at my house. Millie walked to my mom, put her front feet up on my mom’s lap and wiggled her butt like she does when she wants help up. Millie requests. I tend to serve. Not only did she sit there, Millie let Mom pet her and for a long time. Millie is a therapy dog in her heart. Who knew? 
At The Ruralhood, I'm talking about sewing in the 1970s part 2, if you want to read it. The final post on it is next week, I promise.



Saturday, May 06, 2017

Millie and Selfies and The Ruralhood





I need to spend some time at The Ruralhood, reminiscing. If I'm not here, then I'll be...there for a while.

Wednesday, September 07, 2016

IWSG: Writing Time

It’s IWSG time, where writers across the world gather to share their writing experience and/or insecurities. (See below for more info on the Insecure Writer's Support Group.) The IWSG million dollar question this month is: How do you find the time to write in your busy day?

Making time to write has always been an easy task for me. I’ve written first thing in the morning for years, while my brain is fresh. For me, I must write daily or I would go crazy. Setting a time to write is a must. The routine is there. The flow is there. I write between five and seven each morning and again from eight to nine in the evening, IF I'm not mentally tired. But...

Something happened this last summer, something terrible. After a million years of writing with or without a routine, I stopped. 

It all started in June when I decided to have some tiling done, a lot of tiling actually. This job would consume the center of the house (dining), plus three baths for six days. My kitchen was shut down. My home life and household kind of stood still, waiting for the job to be completed. During those days, I either had to leave the house early or hide out in a bedroom with a restless pup. Either way, it was disruptive and exhausting. 
I may have shown you this already. This is my dining room, tiled. I have a prettier clock now--windmill like.
I stopped writing.

I couldn’t think about writing. 

My characters stopped talking to me. I thought they’d died and not told me about it. When I opened my computer, I would stare at the screen. Sometimes I would try to write something, but it was really nothing. Then I would close my computer and do something else. 

Over the next two months, I pretended, but wrote very little or none. It was horrible. I’ve been writing since the age of twelve. At times, I may have been busy and wrote less, but never did I quit writing. 

One day, I think in August, I was cleaning and I moved a  stack of yellow legal pads. One seemed to be calling my name. I found a pen and began to write--for hours. Okay not for hours but a couple of hours.

What a relief! If I couldn’t write I would be in a big mess emotionally, mentally and spiritually. And what would I do with all of the character voices in my head? Check into a hospital? Yes, there is that, but I'd rather write from 5 a.m. to 7 a.m, thank you very much-- and maybe 8 to 9 p.m, depending.

The IWSG was created by Alex Cavanaugh and assisted by awesome helpers. The Insecure Writer's Support Group website supports writers with writers and helpful information. Check out the sign up list here.