Jan 23, 2013 |
As I start this, I just know it will end up on Shell’s “Pour Your Heart Out” Page. I’m thankful for her keeping that weekly link up open so I can spill my emotional vomit and not be the only one doing it. Misery loves company, right?
Okay, so it’s not all miserable. But it’s a lot of what I can’t, or won’t, normally write. Today’s post is about life. And death. And a few things in between.
The last week has been a mixture of endurance, sorrow, mourning, and sickness. The details don’t really matter. My Blog friend, Jenn, nailed it when she said this is “vague blogging”. Not so much a fan of teasing y’all… but there really are some things I just can’t say. Ever.
Except today I’m sad. I’m just utterly sad and tired and worn out… and, of course, hopeful. Because regardless of how bad things are (and I thought they were bad a month ago… boy was that just a prelude!), nevertheless, I’m still loved. And sheltered. And cared for. And breathing. So it’s okay.
That’s the part I’m choosing to remember. The parts that turn the bad stuff into Something Good. That even my worst is someone else’s best. I’m blessed, I’m rich, I’m healthy. Even when it doesn’t seem like it.
And I could sit here giving myself a Pity Party. I choose not to. That doesn’t mean I’m not tired or worn out or feeling down. It just means I can still smile about it. And if all I know is only that, it’s still enough.
I can’t even say life goes on… for some, it doesn’t.
It’s completely strange yet comforting that most of my tears fell at the end of FLASHPOINT. It wasn’t just the end of this wonderful series that got me. It was the catalyst that allowed me to face the pains inside. It gave me permission to cry. It was a bit confusing… and a bit cathartic.
It was symbolic of so much. The highs and lows of the last week. The beginning of some things… and the end of others.
And then there are the stories I can’t tell, because they’re not mine to tell. The stories that leave a pain in my soul that isn’t easily healed. So I hold on to hope that this, too, shall pass.
Dot is under the weather tonight. I’m hoping she just needs a good night’s sleep. We’ve been house-hopping to Mom’s for a few days because the furnace is out. Again. The fifth time since Christmas. And it’s finally been given its last legs, a new one has been ordered. It was suggested that we get a carbon monoxide detector “just in case”. While it hasn’t sounded an alarm yet, there’s that keyword yet. I’ll be sleeping less peacefully until the new one is installed on Saturday.
We’ve been intermittently staying at home in the cold, staying at mom’s in the warmth, and thankfully, the furnace is working just enough tonight for us to stay home comfortably. I expect it to go out again tomorrow, as that seems to be its pattern. At least the cats are happy to have us home. But the turmoil hasn’t been good for Dot, and now she’s feeling ill. I hope it’s not the flu. She has so much on her plate, that’s the last thing she needs.
And a Momma never stops worrying about her babies, no matter how old they are. My mom and I are evidence enough of that!
I’m waiting to exhale when the Cookbook Project is finished. I don’t understand how I could believe in something so completely and not be successful at it. But that glimmer teases me. It’s not over yet. One more week. I have one more week. And, as the last week has evidenced, anything can happen. Even the unexpected. Be it good or bad. I believe it will be Good. But getting there is terribly stressful.
Mostly, tonight, I can’t shake the feeling of sadness over one small thing:
I never hugged Grandpa Jack.
He’s not my Grandpa. He’s the father-in-law of my dear friend. She’s been a motherly-mentor to me for nearly two decades. We were at their house for Thanksgiving, and the whole family was around. And when it came time to leave, I was selective in my affections. And I awkwardly never hugged him. Because after knowing the man for 18 years, I still didn’t know him. And I was embarrassed by my shyness. So we left. It was the best time we’d ever had together at the Great Turkey Shoot. I told myself I’d hug him at Christmas.
But I didn’t see him again.
And now he’s gone.
I never hugged Grandpa Jack. And that horrible thought haunts me. Because now I never will.
I don’t know what to do with all this pain… except sleep on it and know that tomorrow I’ll wake a bit more refreshed. A bit more warm. A bit more optimistic.
Because Shell let me get it out of my system. Sometimes, all we need is a friend to say, “How are you, really?” and mean it. Even if it’s just on a Blog.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
Help me to reach my funding goal before February 1st!
Just click on the photo below and click “BACK THIS PROJECT” to pre-order YOUR copy of The Unemployment Cookbook, Second Edition!
Jan 20, 2013
CLICK HERE TO READ THE UPDATED POST.
MORE QUESTIONS. BETTER ANSWERS.
MANY THANKS.
Whether you’re a long-time friend or an infrequent visitor to Frankly, My Dear… you’re probably aware that I’m trying to raise funds to publish THE UNEMPLOYMENT COOKBOOK, SECOND EDITION.
With less than two weeks left for this Project to fund, I’m trying hard to not spam every inbox, every Facebook and twitter post, and every social media friend I have. But since New Inklings Press (my home-based company) doesn’t have a marketing budget, the only advertising I have is Word of Mouth… and it starts with me.
I’ve been able to respond to a few questions, but I realized that most of you may not know what this entire project is and how it works. So I’d like to take this Post and tell you all about it.
(Q) What is THE UNEMPLOYMENT COOKBOOK?
(A) THE UNEMPLOYMENT COOKBOOK is a collection of recipes for eating abundantly on a frugal income. These recipes were either created in my own kitchen, or handed down from my Mother’s. I wanted to feed my family healthy and hearty dishes, or sometimes just a fun snack, that didn’t cost much and would allow us to change it up.
(Q) What kind of recipes are they?
(A) These are quick and easy recipes, made with everyday ingredients. There’s no hard-to-find or expensive touches… unless you choose to change them up. These recipes are also not “one size fits all”. Not every household has the same tastes, or the same food budget. You’ll find that some of these recipes can be altered significantly (for instance, substitute tuna for chicken in my Potato Chip Casserole), or served in various forms (my Slow Cooker Ratatouille also makes a great veggie pizza topping). There’s even a “Notes” section with each recipe, so you can turn it into your own family favorite.
(Q) What makes the Second Edition different from the First?
(A) After producing the First Edition, typos and minor mistakes were discovered (Hey, I’m a one-person company, and by the time I was done proofreading it for the umpteenth time, I couldn’t even tell you my own name). These have been corrected. Additions include more recipes, new quotes, and more pages in the back for you to add your own family favorites.
(Q) If this is the Second Edition, is the First Edition still available?
(A) Thankfully, no. After working diligently on the recipes and formatting the Cookbook, only 100 copies of the First Edition were printed. Within the first week, nearly half were sold. Some were given away to family and friends. And of course, I kept the first one myself. The last in-stock item was sold last week. Now I’m trying to raise funds to print 500 or more copies of the Second Edition. This is where Kickstarter comes in.
This is the video I made for the Kickstarter campaign… please remember, I’m a much better writer than I am a videographer. Just sayin’….
(Q) What is Kickstarter?
(A) Kickstarter is a crowdfunding platform. That’s a fancy way of saying fundraiser. Remember those school kids from down the street that knock on your door each autumn selling chocolates and wrapping paper? It’s like that. You choose the product you want, you pay for it, and part of the proceeds help the school. In this case, the “school” is New Inklings Press and the product is based on the amount you pledge.
(Q) What are the basics of any Kickstarter project?
(A) Simple. Kickstarter is an easy way for any creative project to receive the funding it needs to be completed. The artist/writer/creator (“Project Creator”) first comes up with an idea and a reasonable budget. The Project Creator then starts up a Kickstarter Campaign with that goal, and a time frame. Different projects offer Backers (supporters) different “rewards”. For instance, anyone can pledge as little as $1 to any project. Depending on the Project, you may not receive any tangible reward, but your help is nonetheless appreciated. With THE UNEMPLOYMENT COOKBOOK, tangible rewards begin at the $8 level and increase up to $125. You can pledge more than the Reward amount, too.
(Q) If I pledge $15 for a Cookbook, but you don’t reach your goal, what happens?
(A) Nothing. Kickstarter is an all-or-nothing campaign. The goal for THE UNEMPLOYMENT COOKBOOK, SECOND EDITION, is $5,000 and ends at 5:00 p.m. PST on Friday, February 1st. It’s a “pledge now – pay later” gig. So if you pledge any amount now, you won’t actually be charged unless I reach $5,000 or more in total pledges before the end of the Campaign. Even then, you won’t be charged until it’s over.
(Q) I pledged a certain amount, but now I need to change it. Is that allowed?
(A) Certainly. For various reasons, people opt to increase or decrease their pledge. That’s okay! And hey, things happen. If you need to cancel your pledge, it’s understandable.
(Q) Okay. So now I get it. You’re trying to get us to pay for the printing for you. Why can’t you do it yourself?
(A) That’s true, but it’s not true. The cost of producing the Cookbook is expensive. Even though the only color photos are the front and back cover, printing itself is a little pricey. When you pledge $15 or more, you’re pre-ordering your own copy of the Cookbook, including shipping charges. Don’t think of it as paying my business expenses. Think of it as ordering a great tool to help you stretch your food budget while still allowing you to be creative in your own kitchen.
(Q) If you’re fully funded or overfunded, what will you do with all that money? $5,000 is a lot of money for selling the Cookbook at only $15 each.
(A) Yes, $5,000 is a lot of money. First up, I’m fully committed to giving back to my community. I know what it’s like to be unemployed and not able to make ends meet. I will donate at least 10% to local funds that help families in need. People need more than good wishes. They need food, shelter, clothing, medicines, as well as needs I can’t even comprehend. I want to pay it forward and help those who could use a helping hand (At least $500).
Next, Kickstarter charges a processing fee for using their platform, and Amazon collects a small amount, too. These amount to just about 8% of the total funding. If this Project funds at exactly $5,000, that’s approximately $400.
There are production costs to consider. The Second Edition requires its own ISBN and bar code. For each Cookbook sold, I need to allow for publishing and shipping costs. Shipping costs include not only postage but shipping envelopes, labels, and postage as well.
There are standard business expenses to take care of. My goal is to have some inventory available to sell at local Flea Markets and Book Fairs. Finally, this will also help me run a small production of my next project as well.
(Q) When you spell it out that way, it doesn’t seem too profitable. So why do it?
(A) Because this is about more than a Cookbook. This is about helping families in the kitchen, and being proactive as a Writer.
(Q) You’ve convinced me. How can I help?
(A) I’m so glad you asked! First, you can pre-order your own copy through my Kickstarter campaign (the link is at the bottom of this post). This is the only marketing I’m doing for the Second Edition. Second, share this post! Since the only advertising I have is Word of Mouth, I need your help in getting the word out! Tell your family, friends, co-workers. Share it on your own social media sites. Email it to your long lost cousins. Just help me get the word out.
And thank you. Thank you for asking the hard questions. Thank you for sharing this post. And thank you for supporting this Project.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Help me to reach my funding goal before February 1st!
Just click on the photo below and click “BACK THIS PROJECT” to pre-order YOUR copy of The Unemployment Cookbook, Second Edition!
Oct 6, 2012 |
I spent a lot of time in Michigan the last two days.
Not literally, of course. But online. I chatted with my friends still there. I dreamed my way through Michigan.org. I rewrote a short story about snow for my writing class.
I spent a lot of time in Michigan.
It’s where I learned to point to the palm of my hand and say, “I live here.”
I lived here.
It’s been decades since I’ve been there, but I can still feel the easy humidity of a warm summer’s night spent running barefoot on the grass. The fresh, new air when bulbs push their first leaves through the damp soil in the spring. The crispy, crunchy footsteps of walking through a mosaic of fallen Oak and Maple leaves. And the blinding brightness of cold falling snow.
I grew up in Michigan. It’s where I learned to ride a bike. Talk to neighbors. Swim in a lake. Sled down the street. It’s where we played Lava in the house, and hid in the spaceship of our basement.
My mom’s flower gardens. My dad’s tomatoes. My brother working on his car. Typing out homework.
It’s where I found my first stray cat. Played with snakes and raccoons. Learned how to layer clothing. Roast marshmallows. Camp in the backyard.
It’s where my best friends once lived, and have returned to. Leaving a light on for me.
I love Bedford Manor. But I’m lonely for that light. For staying up late talking nonsense. Drinking coffee on the patio in the morning fog. Reaching hands to pray over dinner. I’m lonely for that company.
And I can’t wait to return. If even just for a visit.
Keep the light on and warm the Mittens, Michigan. One way or another… I’ll be there.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Aug 18, 2012 |
Lately, I’ve been rediscovering lost memories. I’ve been chatting with old friends on Facebook. Looking through old photo albums. Reading old journal entries and blog posts.
I’m not one to reminisce. I’m either in the moment or living for the future. The past is the past. It can’t be changed. And while I have solid childhood memories, I don’t often allow myself the luxury of recalling those favored moments more than once in a great while. This is also because I have a tendency to relive emotions that come with certain memories.
Because of this, I can write amazing character profiles. I associate more than just memories. I associate music and ambiance and flavor and fragrance and sound and texture and feelings. I incorporate entire experiences.
But sometimes, triggers can bring me back to more than I bargained for.
Over ten years ago I was engaged. I shouldn’t have been. But I was a single mom with a young girl. I was lonely, and felt alone. I met a man who showered me with affections. He was not cruel. He was not mean. We just were not a good match. People told us so. We didn’t listen, and after months of dating he proposed. I eventually broke up with him when it was clear we weren’t going to be able to work out some of our more important conflicts. It was the smart thing: to let go. But it was painful. And once again, I felt alone. But more than that: I felt like I deserved to be alone. I’d ignored those who loved me enough to tell me why this wasn’t good. I’d turned my back on the advice of family and friends. I’d asked them to embrace my choice, proclaiming that I knew best.
But I didn’t.
So I deserved to be alone. And hurt.
Or so I thought.
He’d taken me to see the movie “Autumn in New York”. I can’t begin to list the reasons why I love this movie. It’s by no means a classic. It didn’t win any awards. But it had me from the moment the first leaf fell in Central Park to Diana Krall’s “Let’s Fall in Love”. I had the CD soundtrack that I annoyed people with day after day after day. It was, for me, the perfect experience.
And then we broke up. And because I had not just memories but experiences associated with Autumn in New York, I could no longer listen to the music. I never wanted to see the movie. I could never think about someday going to New York.
I just couldn’t.
It pulled at me like sticky spaghetti strings. With any real force, the draw would be broken. I was thankful to live here in the desolate desert where I didn’t have to smell crisp autumn winds or see colored leaves. I could pretend the movie never existed. Because to admit that not only did it exist, but that I liked it, was to admit that I wasn’t perfect. That I longed for something I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, have. It was to admit that I’d failed with my family and friends. And that was the most painful loss of all.
This is the thinking pattern I held to for most major disappointments. I could no longer watch this, hear that, go here, eat there. All because it brought back bad memories. And pain. And shame.
Until eight years later. I just made a decision to change my way of thinking. This part puzzles me, because for all my experience-association, the only thing I remember about this moment is feeling empowered. I’d decided several things in that moment.
I’d decided I wasn’t going to hold on to bad memories. I would recognize them, but no longer let them hold me hostage.
I’d decided I was going to allow myself to remember without experiencing every moment.
I’d decided I wasn’t going to let the memory of a long-ago man dictate how I continued my life without him.
I’d decided it was time to stop avoiding old memories, and instead replace them with new ones.
I’d decided to order the DVD from Amazon.
The next four days were filled with a new excitement for me. It was almost a combination of meeting an old friend and going on a first date. I was finally allowing myself to be me. And to be happy about it.
When the DVD arrived, I wasn’t disappointed. I worried that I’d built it up in my head to be a wonderful theatrical production. It wasn’t. But I already knew that. It was just what I remembered it to be. And it felt good to remember.
Since that moment, I no longer run from my memories. I change them. I don’t let them haunt me and keep me subdued. I make new memories. This is still my town. This is where I live. Work. Love. And have family and the same friends.
I refuse to let an old memory take that from me.
The movie is no longer associated with that man. It’s associated with my love for New York. The restaurant we used to frequent is no longer associated with him. It’s associated with friends and great conversations and possibilities.
Life isn’t something to keep running away from or locked in a closet. It’s something to be treasured, exhibited, and put on display.
Life is something to be proud of. The weaknesses that let others be strong for us. Even the parts that make us stronger for ourselves.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy:
Writing Prompt: Songs
Why I Don’t Go To Carnivals in October
Bunco at Tiffany’s
When I Get to New York
Mojo Movie Review of the Week: Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Apr 28, 2012 |
It’s been about two months since I’ve posted any Lessons Learned. You would think in that amount of time I would have amassed a whole lotta learnin’. You would think.
I don’t think I learned a lot, so much as I kept re-learning the same things in different ways.
Although some things are new.
Ready? Here’s what’s been in my brain lately:
1. Black-headed grosbeaks look very similar to Baltimore Orioles.
2. Grosbeaks, among other birds, like to eat dry cereal like Cheerios and Rice Krispies.
3. Writing is something I do best when I do it for myself.
4. Having said that, it’s awful nice when other people appreciate my writing.
5. When I was away in college 20 years ago, my mom sent me a stickee pad with Old Maxine on them. They said, “You didn’t know how you’d get through yesterday, either, but here you are.” That’s been my unconscious motto for a while now.
6. Music is awesome. It’s one of the greatest languages ever written.
7. Family Game Night is the craziest, funnest night of the month!
8. Sweet Broom plants are gorgeous! And attract bees. Bonus!
9. Some people will always be friends. No matter the time, distance, and drama that happens in your individual lives. Some people can be in your life every day and never be a true friend.
10. Cats don’t like thunderstorms. Cats like people who keep them safe from thunderstorms.
11. Hardcover books are better than digital books.
12. But digital books have their perks.
13. Flashpoint is still the best show on TV, and best community on Facebook.
14. CBS was really stupid when they didn’t renew Flashpoint last summer. ION was really smart to pick it up as their first first-run series, meaning they no longer air only reruns.
15. It’s a rule of nature that as my daughter gets older, so do I. Yet while she’s ready to graduate high school, I’m not ready to let her go out into the world. It’s a very scary place out there. And I’m her mommy. I just want to keep her safe and happy. And in my arms.
16. I love cooking. And I’m not too bad at baking. Wilton has the greatest cake molds for such things!
17. If I wasn’t a writer, I’d be a party planner. But I’m a writer. And I like that better.
18. Starbucks is great. Friends who get how important Starbucks is, are priceless.
19. Sometimes the world isn’t fair. And it stinks.
20. Sometimes God isn’t fair. And I’m so very thankful.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
