Sep 26, 2014 |
Five Things Friday at Frankly, My Dear…
Welcome back to Five Things Friday. My theme for this week is #DoingTheWriteThing. I can’t get tired of it. The more I promote writing, the more addicted to writing I become.
Every conversation I hear, every sight I see, every sense I experience is placed in my mental filing cabinet (and sometimes on paper) for probable later use.
Reading about writing excites me. I’m currently studying Flannery O’Connor’s “Mystery and Manners” and came across this gem, Number One on today’s Five Things Friday.
Flannery O’Connor’s “Mystery and Manners”
1. My writing mentor assigned me to read two books. Flannery O’Connor’s “Mystery and Manners” is the first. I’ve been struggling with how to write a gripping murder mystery while retaining my Christianity. He has been telling me for several months that this book would clear that up for me. Three chapters in, and I see he’s right. The book begins with an essay or two on peacocks, which has rekindled my love for these beautiful creatures. That’s another blog post. The next sections express the importance of Christians writing the grotesque with redemption. For if we write only “rainbow and unicorns” (my words) where is the challenge for others to change their world? Authenticity, not loftiness, is the better writing.
2. I finally released The Unemployment Cookbook for Kindle on Amazon. I spent quite a bit of last week rekeying the text into the proper format, then creating the hyperlinks in the Table of Contents. It’s satisfying to have another title in the stable, as well as a completed project. Novel writing takes years, so to have something to show for all my writing efforts makes me feel productive, but more than that, it gives me the chance to show you, my faithful readers, that your support isn’t in vain or cast aside.
The Unemployment Cookbook, Second Edition
3. All the profits from the Kindle cookbook are going into my #DoingTheWriteThing fundraiser. So even though I have a fundraiser page set up, I’m doing as much as I can to contribute my fair share. Each morning brings me one day closer to the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference and other networking and learning opportunities, and one step closer to being the better writer I know I can be.
Go Fund Me: #DoingTheWriteThing
4. I reconnected with old friends last week. My missionary friend, Cynthia, returned home from Germany for a short visit. It’s been quite a few years since we were able to see each other, and I am grateful for the time we had. I was reminded that she, too, is a creative writer. She shared how she’s using her gift to minister to children, teens, and young women near Dresden, Germany.
Three Amigas: Corrie, Cynthia, Molly Jo
5. I’m promoting the High Desert Chapter of the California Writers Club. I’ve mentioned it before. It’s a wonderful, state-recognized organization for writers to get together. With over one hundred active members, we have formal critique groups, informal salons, monthly meetings with guest speakers, book fairs, networking and sales opportunities. For the last several months I’ve been the official Social Media Marketer. That’s just a fancy way of saying I get to be on social media for the club. I sit up front at the meetings, attend local author book signings, take photos, and share content. There’s something magical about being in a room of like-minded people, those who don’t just see the words on paper, but know how to put them there. I’m very honored to be an active member of this group.
Wordsmith Salon: Dwight, Tess, Richard, Lorelei, Molly Jo
Today’s bonus is for those of you who think I can’t stop writing.
My Favorite Quote From Isaac Asimov
You’re right.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Five Years and a Party
FIVE THINGS FRIDAY: The Big Easy
“What’s the Word?” Wednesday: Aaron Gansky on Magic and Writing
New Meaning to Ghost Writing
I’ll Fly Away
May 9, 2013 |
There’s a plethora of news articles discussing poverty as it relates to society as a whole. There are Government studies, prejudices, and surveys. There are misconceptions, stereotypes, classes to educate those in the throes, assistance programs that help (or don’t), and people fighting every day to overcome the odds.
Let me be very clear at this point: I am not a statistic.
My Social Media brand states quite simply, “I’m a Christian. Writer. Mom. Single. Daughter. Friend. Worker. Chef. Believer.” I’m also a baseball nut, coffee drinker, Disney lover, cat owner. I’m sympathetic, empathetic and at times extremely temperamental. At no point have I ever been a statistic.
I am a person. My home is where I live and where I raise a family. We are not charts on a piece of paper or a spread-sheet column.
The very first thing you should understand about me is that I am blessed. I believe in God, I have felt His hand upon my daily moments and I know without Him I would be lost. I am poor by the world’s standards, but definitely not by His.
Trying to live up to the world’s idea of how my life should be is utterly exhausting. Working long hours while running a household can be overwhelming. And so rewarding.
I am deeply bothered by the stigma that my life brings to me and my daughter. I’m often overwhelmed at the inconsideration pushed upon us for lack of funds. I’ve prayed and thought long and hard about writing this post. There are some things that private. And then there are times when my voice may be the only voice someone hears. For others who can’t speak for themselves.
Poverty is not One Size Fits All or even Most. Poverty is deeply personal, intimate, and unique to each person. Not each family. Each. Person.
This is my story.
This is by no means a complaint against the world. Nor is it a cry for help. It’s not meant to take away any other person’s individuality or be thrown to the masses. This is simply My Story. Or at least the parts of it I can share.
I can’t say I was born into poverty. I think maybe I was, myself and my brothers. But we didn’t know different. Dad worked hard for income, Mom worked hard at keeping a home. At some point in my youth, both worked. We all came together for dinner around the table. We went to school, did our homework and worked our chores. We played games. We talked. We went to Church. We were a family. When my brothers were each old enough, they found part-time jobs to supplement their own pocket cash. I babysat the kids across the street. We didn’t know what poverty was.
We had a clean house. Home cooked meals. We didn’t know we were poor. We knew we didn’t always have as much as the kids down the block. But we always had more than we needed. And we were okay with that.
When I was 13, my dad passed away. Mom chose to move us closer to her sister, also a widow. Thus we transplanted from Michigan to California. My mom has always been an extremely strong, hard worker. If we were in Laura Ingalls’ days, she’d be known as a Pioneer Woman. When there’s a problem, she finds a solution. Even though the word “No” is often a part of our vocabulary, the word “Can’t” rarely is. Her home is immaculate. Her yard is landscaped. She’s always found a way to take care of what needs taking care of. I am very proud of my mom, and just as proud that my daughter inherited that same “Can-Do” spirit. We are not poor people. We are just people in poor circumstances.
We live in the largest county in America. Currently, our unemployment rate averages between 12 and 14%. That means one in seven people who used to work or can work, is not working. That doesn’t take into consideration the dependents that person is responsible for: a spouse, child, or other dependent. I don’t like the game people play with these numbers.
I’m blessed to have a job. I work 35 hours a week. It’s not much, but it’s honest work. It feels good to have a job I can go to. A place where I can contribute back to society and be a part of the outside world. I enjoy paying bills. I do! I like the feeling of writing out checks and buying my own groceries and putting gas in the car. I don’t like knowing that the payments I make aren’t always enough. I don’t like the calls I get each day asking me for money I don’t have.
But I like that each week, the calls are fewer. I like that each payday, I can afford to put just a little more money toward paying off the smallest debt. And maybe next payday, a little more. It’s not easy and there are often times when I’m unable to do anything more than the minimum payments… and sometimes not even that. It’s embarrassing. And that’s a stigma I face a lot. The stigma that being in poverty carries an attitude of apathy.
I want to be self-sufficient. I’m not there yet. I don’t know that I ever will be. But I’m learning a lot on this journey. I’m learning every day. How to cook differently. How to juggle a budget where the outgo always exceeds the income. How to get by for less than what society tells me I need. And how to ask for help when I really need it.
I’m blessed with a wonderful support system. I have family and friends and church and community. I’m not alone. I have people. My people. People who come alongside me to lighten the load however they can. A grandpa who constantly teaches Dot maintenance and farming. My mom who shares cooking secrets. My boss consistently trains me to be better at my job, and gives me opportunities to grow and not be just the stagnant front-desk person. I have people who see me through my struggles. And, yes. I have struggles. Who doesn’t? But I don’t struggle with life. There are worse things than not paying off debt in a timely manner.
For my family, Poverty is a matter of perspective.
My yard is still 90% dirt. That’s not because we’re poor. That’s because I live in the desert. That’s because I don’t know gardening. But I’m learning. Some day, my yard will be completely landscaped. For now, we’re taking it one square foot at a time.
I still treat Dot to the occasional pizza or Starbucks. We need that treat once in a while. When I was growing up, Mom had this saying on a bookmark:
“If, of thy mortal goods, thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves
alone to thee are left,
Sell one & from the dole,
Buy Hyacinths to feed the soul”
– Muslihuddin Sadi,
13th Century Persian Poet
I remember asking her what that meant. She smiled as she told me, it’s another way of saying “Man cannot live by bread alone.” There must be more to life than physical needs. We must also take care of our spirit, our soul, our emotions.
Imagine my delight when in the first Spring of my somewhat fixer-upper home I discovered Hyacinth growing in my front yard.
Grape Hyacinth
We all need a time of refreshment. Being in poor circumstances no longer allows us the luxury of Disney passes or even a weekend getaway. My mom has another great wall hanging in her kitchen. It reads
Do What You Can
Where You Are
With What You Have.
And that’s why I still try to make time for Family Game Nights. Why we scrimp and save for our Girl Dates to Starbucks or McDonald’s. That’s why a 40-minute drive to Casey’s Cupcakes and the Mission Inn every few months isn’t indulgent ~ it’s necessary!
Because I refuse to let my daughter think she lives in poverty. Because she doesn’t. Because poverty is a temporary disposition that I refuse to settle into comfortably, and I will fight tooth and nail to make sure she doesn’t know what she’s missing.
I believe this poverty is temporary. I refuse to be a societal statistic.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
There’s Hope for Bedford Manor
“Be Not Afraid”. Yes, I’m talking to YOU.
How To Eat For Free And Have Fun Doing It (Or, How Printing Coupons Gave Me a Really Great Weekend!)
WinCo Wins: Lunch for a Dollar!
Dear God, I Owe You An Apology (Quit Helping Me!)
Winco Wins
Mar 15, 2013 |
It’s TGIF time. It always seems to work out that when I’ve been blog-absent and finally have much to say, it’s a TGIF post. I like that. Blog and I, we work well together.
And believe me, I have oh-so-much to say. The first is, I’m learning how to not say everything. As a writer, I’m a bit cavalier with my words. That’s not always a good thing. I see a story everywhere, but that doesn’t mean I should tell it. Some stories aren’t mine to tell. Others are mine, but not worth telling. Still more are shared stories, and to be told in different avenues than the Blog. I’m finding a Magic Filter that makes it okay to write… and okay to not write.
I’m making much better use of my daily organizer. Not only am I keeping track of appointments and writing assignments, I’m also keeping track of accomplishments. “Ordered mugs.” “Writer’s Group 10 a.m.”. “ICL Assign #4”. These are only a few of the entries for this month. It’s my goal to have at least one entry each day relating to writing. So far, so good.
Now that the Cookbook is in production and I have an actual inventory, it’s time to work on production of my next project. A Study on the Ten Commandments is a work I’m humbly proud of. The writing is finished, the cover is designed, and yes, there’s a Kickstarter campaign for pre-selling and raising funds for publishing.
Ten Commandments Cover
My newest writing project is half done. Broken Girl and Other Stories of Redemption: A Collection of Parables, Poetry & Prose. I’m very excited about this one for many reasons. Even in my journals, I’ve written creatively. This is a collection of moments in the past two decades as I stretched my wings, flown the coop, and raised my own family. Lessons learned and failings felt. It will also feature photographs from my big brother, Mark. His photography skills are astounding, and last year he gave me carte blanche to use them as I see fit for this publication. I was so happy to call him this week and let him know this project is finally under way.
Broken Girl cover
I don’t know how the entire project will come together, but I intend to use this beautiful photo as the cover. I call it “Desert Beauty” and I’ve used it on my Blog before. Of course, he has such a plethora of nature photos that by the time I’m ready to produce the book, I may change the cover… oh, who am I kidding?! I love this photo and I’ll use it nine ways to Sunday if I can!
Oh, sure, I could complain about my nagging fears and personal woes. But, as I so often used to say, “Everybody’s got something, y’know?” The specifics of my trials and tribulations don’t matter. The history of how I got here is insignificant. All that matters is the goal, and whether I reached for it. That, in itself, is a great accomplishment.
I have much to write over the next week:
- My views on the Vatican and Pope Francis.
- Joshua Tree blooms.
- How to score birthday freebies.
- Philippians 4:13.
- My Morning at the DMV and Why Appearances Aren’t What They Seem.
I may not get to it all in the next week. But you know what? I’m okay with that. Because I’m also learning to not sweat the small stuff… and, as Pastor Tom often says, “It’s all small stuff.”
Whatever this week brings your way, Be Blessed!
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Dec 29, 2012 |
I received a gift card for Christmas. I’m so very excited. Some people think gift cards are impersonal. I think gift cards are Potential. I plan to use this one for my January grocery budget.
The Unemployment Cookbook by Molly Jo Realy
I’m on a mission to save money and still feed my family well. I’m taking a page from my Cookbook, and starting with the recipe that started it all: Slow Cooker Ratatouille.
For just around $10, I’ll get the vegetables I need. I always keep olive oil and seasonings in the pantry.
Jan. 1: The Ratatouille will feed myself and Dot for two dinners.
Jan. 3: Drain the liquids and put half of the remaining seasoned vegetables on top a pizza crust. I always keep a frozen crust, so I’ll only need sauce and shredded cheese, about $7. This will feed us two dinners.
Jan. 5: Add the rest of the Ratatouille to my Baked Frittata. I usually keep eggs and milk in the house, but when I need to buy them, it costs close to $6 for both. I’ll already have shredded cheese from the pizza. The Frittata will feed us brunch and dinner for Saturday, and breakfast leftovers on Sunday.
Frittata
Jan. 6: My Slow Cooker Turkey Chili. I’ll need to buy just one pound of ground turkey, two cans of beans, and three cans of vegetables, near $8. I keep spices and onions in my pantry. This will feed us for three dinners, and I can take a serving for lunch.
Jan. 9: Potato Chip Casserole. I’ll need to buy the chips and chicken, approximately $5. I always keep milk and cream soups in my fridge and pantry. This goes fast, usually allowing for just one dinner and lunch leftovers.
Jan. 10: Texas Hash. I have all the ingredients except ground beef, average $4.I usually also need a green pepper. But I’ll have an extra pepper from the Ratatouille ingredients. I’ll use my FoodSaver to keep it fresh until I need it. Texas Hash will feed us at least three dinners.
And there I’ve scheduled 12 days of dinners for less than $40.00. Feeding two, sometimes three, adults. That’s less than $1.50 per person per meal.
For breakfasts, one box of Malt-o-Meal ($4), two boxes of instant oatmeal ($2 each), and a few yogurts (10 at $0.50 each). $13 total for a month of breakfasts.
I’m going to try new Bento lunch ideas (send some thoughts my way, Rachel!). Dot is on winter break for the month, so I’ll have some sandwich fixin’s for her, too. Each Bento averages $2. Lunches for the month should run us close to $50.
And that’s my Mojo Meal Plan for the first part of January, and then some. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry!
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Nov 16, 2012 |
I never meant for my TGIF post to become a sequel, let alone a three-peat. The first one went a little viral thanks to Good People in the Blogosphere. I’m still amazed at the Good Things that came from pouring my heart out.
To be so confident in my vulnerability is a teeter-totter I’m still learning to balance.
I still have so much to say, and now I know I can say it. Now I’m not afraid of open myself up more. I’ve always striven for authenticity. I realize now that includes depth.
It’s another Friday night. Another end of the work-week and the middle of the month. It’s after Dot’s birthday and before the Holidays.
Tonight, I have so much to say. But I can only articulate one simple breath:
I’m So Very Thankful.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
