Confession is Good for the Soul

Confession is good for the soul, or at least that is what they say.
Most of my life there has been a big push to shop on the Friday after Thanksgiving. It wasn't called Black Friday when I was growing up or even when my kids were growing up. However, it was the beginning of the Christmas shopping season.
So. It was big.
Now, they have started black Friday and it has even been dragged into Thanksgiving Day. A day most people look forward to not working and spending the day with family.
Well, here is my confession: We shopped on Thanksgiving Day.
Not only that, but we stood in line. For three hours. In the cold.
And you know what? It wasn't half bad.
On the night before Thanksgiving, we had visions of crowds of people pushing and shoving and trampling us to get to the thing we, and they, wanted most: a t v.
We had decided we needed a new tv for the spare bedroom. We wanted a flat screen so that it would sit on top of a bookcase. We talked about it and then decided we would upgrade to a larger one in the living room and put that one in there.
Then, we saw the Black Friday ads on Thanksgiving and they had a great deal for one at Target.
So, we decided we would do this.
I have a sweet husband. He stood in line for about an hour without me so I could stay in the car and keep warm.
I then joined him. The sun was beginning to set, so it was a bit colder, but we were near the building, and not much wind.
Neither of us smoke and cigarette smoke nearly does us in. We had people around us who were smoking, but we were outside and it didn't bother much.
A young lady in front of us took a cigarette out and we were apprehensive, but didn't say anything.
Then she went to the front of the line, stepped out and away, and had her cigarette, and then came back.
I thanked her for that. A conversation ensued and we passed the time nicely.
People came out of the store and started handing out stuff: coupons, granola bars, and....tickets to buy the tvs.
You simply took the ticket to the cashier, paid for the t v and took your receipt to another counter, picked up your t v and left. You had three hours you could shop in the store before you had to pick up your t v.
It was simple.
We took our ticket, paid the price, took the t v and put it into our cart and turned to leave.
We hear, " Hey! You got your t v!" It was our new young friend.
See? Not all shopping stories are horror stories on Thanksgiving.

Remembering

                                     

I live in Branson, Missouri. You may have heard of it. We have a bit of a reputation of being a live music mecca.

We also do Veterans Week really well. We love our Veterans. They are a special breed. We honor them every day, but Veteran's Day is so special to us we turned it into a week.

Back about eleven years or so ago, the traveling Viet Nam Wall was here for our celebration. It went to several different sites over the next few years.

It finally landed at the Lawerence Welk theatre. They hosted it every year after that. Last year they purchased it and it is then assured of being here every Veterans week in Branson.

When the wall is here they have readers read the names on the wall from a directory they have. The names are in alphabetical order with name, rank, service branch, dob and dod and hometown. In honor of those who gave all they want them read aloud. You don't have to shout, just read as though talking to someone, and in essence you are. You are reading to the boys who gave all.

You are telling the boys that someone cares. That someone remembers, even if for those few days in November.

It can be humbling. Knowing that all the boys, whether 17 or 47, went there with the hope of returning and they didn't. They knew it was a possibility, but we all know there is a possibility that we won't return from any journey however big or small.

They knew it was a possibility when they went.

When they landed they knew it was a probability.

When they saw their buddy next to them fall dead, they felt they may be next. For some they were.

You read these names as much for the buddies who survived as for the ones who didn't.

You read for the girlfriends, mothers, fathers, siblings and off-spring.

You read for yourself. Even if you don't think that is why you are going to do it. After you are there and have read a few, you know. It is for you.

I had thought of volunteering to do this for a few years. But, you know, you think, ah, they don't need ME. There are plenty of others able and willing. Let them. Or rather, honor them with the pleasure. I knew I would enjoy doing it, but one thing lead to another, and I didn't.

Then last year I met the lady who sets up the readers. She is a new member of my congregation. She put out a plea for readers. I thought about it.

Didn't do it.

This year, when the plea went out, and it does in the paper and in my case to my Bible class, I told my husband I wanted to do it. He said sign up, I will get you there.

I called her and said do you still need readers. She said yes.

I signed up for a half-hour in the early afternoon. It was one of the spots she was having trouble filling.

The weather was nice, cool. Did I say you read the names outside near the wall? So, you dress for the weather.

They have a tent-room from which to read. It is open on the sidewalk side, but closed on the other three, helping to protect from the wind.

They offer us coffee.

When I got there, a man was still reading and I took over from him.

It is easy. You just read the names and the info.

And then, you notice someone standing in front of you. You look up. He meets your eye, puts out his hand and says, " Thank You." Then you notice the tears in his eyes and the Viet Nam patch he wears. And you thank him.

Thank you to all of you who have served, either in the military or in support of the family while they serve. Thank you especially to those of you have lost a loved one while serving in the military.

                               

Enjoying

I last left you with 'D' for Deciding, well, now we are enjoying.
Enjoying the new house, enjoying company coming and hoping they will enjoy the continuation of our vacation together.
Usually, they come in the spring and we go up in the summer, but this year it is reversed.
Our company didn't make it down. There were two funerals of cousins and we went to them for that. While we were there we got to see the most beautiful fall colors we have seen in a few years.
It was warmer this trip than last, which seemed out of sync, but we enjoyed the warmth. We did some sight seeing, old friend seeing and animal seeing. We always go to Itasca State Park when we visit the aunt and cousin in Minnesota. It is only about an hour from them and always on the way to where ever we are going. Even if it isn't.
Itasca, for those who may not know is the headwaters of the Mississippi river. Fun to step over the Mighty Mississip. The trees were just outstanding...I know, I know that's what trees do, but the colors this year were gorgeous.Is that not a pretty one?

We also found someone who had a bit of trouble harvesting..

Those hay balers can give you some trouble. Someone had fun with their haying. It can get boring after so many bales.

I will leave you with a pretty lane in Itasca Park.

Alphabet Suspended!

Okay, so alphabet didn't do anything to get thrown out of school or work, but I needed to write about something else.
It was a warm, sunny day. I got up had breakfast and sat down to check facebook, emails and throw out junk from my email account.
Warmed up the computer, hit the internet browser button...and....the little circle went counterclockwise, and counter clockwise and counter clockwise. Then it turned blue and went clockwise and clockwise and clockwise and.. nothing.
Check connections it said. I did.
I tried again going back to counterclockwise and clockwise and...nothing.
Time to call the internet provider.
Yea! One of my all time favorite things to do.
I called and the automated voice picked up saying, " Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line and the we will get to you as quickly as possible. Approximate wait time is 10 minutes."
Well, what was I going to do for the next ten minutes, anyway, so I hung on. I worked on a writing piece and sure enough, ten minutes later they came back to me.
"Thank you for calling ******. Please enter the phone number or account number you are calling about."
Since I use my landline company for my internet, I entered my ten digit number starting with the area code.
" I'm sorry. I cannot find your account.
"What is your address?"
I gave it.
" I have accessed your account.
" What is your problem?"
I have no internet.
" There has been an equipment problem and we are working on it to have the internet back up in 24 to 48 hours. Sorry for any inconvenience."
Any inconvenience? Nah. Just was going to do a little business on line and while away my day.
I waited patiently (read checking it every ten minutes I was near the computer) until we had to leave.
It was a sad day.
I have not had this happen before.
It made the local news, so guess I was not the only person reporting the problem.
The next day, I had breakfast, went outside and whiled away some time. Then I thought, what the heck, I will just go check.
Yippee! Internet back a day early.
Thank you, God.
All is right with my world.

Deciding

We decided to put our house on the market in May and it sold in a week.
We decided to go on vacation as planned, even though we did not have a house to move into.
We decided that it would be fine.
We decided not to get too worked up over the fact that our realtor would be gone for a week before we left for two weeks. It would be fine.
We went on vacation and had a grand time. As you can see from the A B C posts.
We came back and began our search a new abode.
This one was too old. This one was too needy. This one was to be ours.
Maybe.
Made the offer. Got accepted. Got the house inspection scheduled.
House failed inspection. We cancelled the deal.
This is it.
Maybe.
We found another house that we and our realtor fell for. Hook, line and sinker.
Made an offer.
Next day get a phone call from realtor. A person walked up to the house in question knocked on the door and said I want your house. Here is the money you want when I get it from the bank. They accepted their offer.
Did I mention we had CASH? They took the other one anyway.
It is now moving out time minus a week. Dear friends offered their basement and we moved in.
The next day was signing day for our old house and the following day we went house hunting. Again.
Looked at two houses. The first one, hubby said hubba hubba.
The next one won a thumbs down.
Made offer on first house. Met with thumbs down.
Made another offer.
We won!
I forgot something pertinent: Our stuff resided in three, no make that four, storage units plus what we had with us in a fifth place.
We are now in our new house.
Husband put together a cake this morning, without measuring instruments.
It baked up just fine.
I am now going to frost it.
Got out the butter. The milk. The bowl.
Um, where is the powdered sugar?
It will be fine.

Carousel

Carousels have always fascinated me. When I was growing up we had a permanent amusement park in the town where I lived. It had a skating rink, carousel, dodge cars, a caterpillar ( a covered roller coaster), a gypsy fortune teller and acres to walk on. I got to go occasionally and always rode the carousel. We always called them merry-go-rounds. I will ride one now if allowed to.

                                                      The Prairie Rose Carousel

 So, when the opportunity arose to go to Wahpeton, North Dakota and see the Prairie Rose Carousel, we took it.It was part of a fun-filled rainy day that included a trip to the headwaters of the Red River of the North, a battle field and an a old fort.
  
The Prairie Rose is an antique restored carousel. And it is gorgeous.

The carousel was found and bought by  Roger Jensen and Jim Oliver of Wahpeton. They had wanted to find and restore a carousel, and had about given up when they found one in nearby Minnesota. It was in restoreable shape. All the horses were there along with the machinery. After the removal of 20 plus coats of paint, they were brought to Lonnie Halverson and Delores Berg to get new paint. Tails, legs, teeth, saddles, etc. were re-carved and replaced. The woodwork was an estimated 60-80 hours for each horse. After Lonnie was done with them, they were taken to Delores for paint. She gave each of them a different personality and flare, spending as much as 50 hours on each one.

They are now housed in a climate controlled building where they can be ridden every day despite the weather.

The horses are each named for sponsors or named by a sponsor. It was a real treat to see the horses ride again and hear the music.

We were wanting a special kind of day, and we got it. If you are ever in Wahpeton, ND take time to visit the Prairie Rose Carousel.

Birds

Birds are always a big draw when we go for our Minnesota visits. Wildlife in general is what we seek out and find along the road, preferably alive.
 Bald eagles, herons, swans and ducks of all kinds come out to see us on the back roads we travel.

Oh, wait. Those are Pelicans. I have always loved Ogden Nash's poetry and his poem about the pelican is a favorite:" the pelican, a bird whose beak can hold more than his belly can." Minnesota has many pelicans. We found some.

We came across this crow. If you have to eat crow, let us hope it isn't this much.
There were other animals, including family, that we were with on this outing of two weeks. So, keep coming back and see what else we encountered on our adventure.

Alpaca Antics

When we go to Minnesota, we always spend our time with my husband's aunt Ida and her daughter, Kathie.
His aunt is 94 and his cousin is our age. ( Not wanting to tell things that cousin might not want told).

Kathie is our trip planner and list maker. She always finds cool things to do and this year was no exception.

On a Sunday, we had nothing on the agenda, since we had done a church service on Wednesday. So, on Saturday, we asked the planner what we were going to do Sunday.

When she came to her mom's she told us to load up the van and we would take off. She didn't tell us where.

Like kids on a Sunday drive we wanted to know where we were going and when would we get there.

When you are the rider, you really don't want to hear, " Ooops. Was that my road?" However, when you are with cousin you always hear, " Was THAT my road?". So, we didn't get too excited.

Then we arrived.

At the Alpaca farm.

When we got there, we went into the barn where the owners had gathered the alpacas and we heard this strange sound. They were humming. They were shuffling and pushing each other. And humming.

We found out that they were upset by something out of the ordinary...US.

They hum to communicate. They gather together when they sense something out of the ordinary.

This is a mama and her year-old baby. Baby thought we were going to do something to mama.


There was a lot to say.

There were strangers here and what did they want. We got to feed them and that settled the matter as to whether we could stay.

We could.

Their upper teeth are actually a soft palate that they use with their bottom teeth to pull off the grass. They are curious and some are hams. They like to have their picture taken and we had one that would pose. The above mama and baby liked to watch us and let us take their picture without a problem.

The reason they look funny is because they had sheared them about a month before we got there. They do not shear heads or limbs. Mama had had a traumatic year and did not have a heavy fleece coat, so they were letting her wait till next year for shearing. Baby had been sheared.

Thanks for joining us on the Alpaca farm.

A to Z things

I have been trying to come up with a theme to write to. The A to Z Challenge was such fun and made me think in different directions and topics.
Now, I have to come up with my own.
While we were on vacation, I talked with a cousin about my writing and while chatting came up with an idea to write to.
It is an alphabet log of my vacation travels and activities.

Before I start this, I will tell you we did a road trip to Northern Minnesota. This year, June was not the month to have a SUMMER vacation. A FALL one, perhaps. The first three days were summer, after that we went back to Fall, possibly early spring. It was jeans and jackets time.

I will start my A B C trip on Monday. Stop back by and see where we go and what we do.

Thank You

We say it so many times that it loses its meaning or at least it's punch. I do not know how else to say it.
Perhaps, You have made my day. That also tends to sound phony to me. Perhaps if the written word had the expression in it that the vocal word has it would be better.

Wait.

I am on a computer. I can express expression in colors.

Thank you. Hm. That looks like you may be angry. I thought red would be warmer. 

Thank you. That's faded. Don't want faded thank you's. 

Thank you. That might do. It reminds you of growing things. Thank you can mean you want to grow a relationship because of what was done for you.

Thank you.   Now, that might work. Except the words fade into the background.

Thank you. Nah, that's not right. 

Thank you. Hey! I may onto something.

What I am trying to do here is to make it known to one and all how much I appreciated the guest post from 
C. Hope Clark. Hope you all enjoyed it. 

It is also a thank you to all of you come and check my posts. Have a great day.    

Guest Post from my friend C. Hope Clark

When I Decided to Become a Writer

By C. Hope Clark

            We ask this question often of writers we consider ahead of us in this journey. For some reason, we want to measure where we are in comparison.

            I decided to become a writer in 1999 when I realized my soul was dying at the day job; it needed resuscitation through something more passionate, less affiliated with form filing and paper pushing. So I set out with a three-year plan to save my money, pay off my bills, negotiate an early retirement that left me with a small pension, and relocate if my husband so chose, in order to make up the income difference. Then on September 27, 2002, I walked out of the Strom Thurmond Federal Building in Columbia, SC where I worked, and I never looked back.

            We moved a few months later from South Carolina to Arizona then back to South Carolina, my writing ever mobile. I morphed from a mystery writer to reviewer, then from a freelancer to an entrepreneur with FundsforWriters. Today, I’m a mystery author, editor of a website/newsletter with thousands of followers, and a blogger.

            I’ve learned that this job never sits still. It moves under your feet, sometimes taking you with it, sometimes knocking you down. The Internet changes exponentially with improvements, or setbacks, depending on your personal experience, so we never find our niche and sit fat and happy anywhere. Sitting still is when we get passed by, run over, and forgotten. Assuming you want to earn a living at this business.

“Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." ~Howard Thurman, theologian

            While my 25 years with the federal government had empowered me to assist many people, my flame dimmed, my enthusiasm waned. In my middle-aged life I had more to offer the world than  my small cog in a bloated bureaucracy. My creative side needed an outlet. As an intelligent woman with an ample supply of common sense, I knew I could logically navigate this path, and it was time I tapped my right brain and make art, to make myself happier and leave a better imprint on this earth.

            Within a couple of months, my college-aged son approached and said, “You act a lot happier now, Mom.”

            I teared up once his back was turned. I was absolutely happier, which seemed to feed into my family’s dynamics. That’s when I decided that life was too short to fear a venture into a more passionate, more self-sustaining endeavor. Because what the world needs more of is indeed people who have come alive.

BIO: C. Hope Clark is author of The Carolina Slade Mystery Series and editor of FundsforWriters.com, a website and newsletter service for career writers. She has published in many freelance venues and speaks nationally. She lives on the banks of Lake Murray in central South Carolina. www.chopeclark.com / www.fundsforwriters.com

 

Writing

I started writing in earnest about twenty years ago. By that I mean intentionally writing stories and I took a course on writing for teens.

I started signing up for newsletters on line that encouraged writers and were resources for money and prompts and just generally good to read.




The first one I signed up for was Funds for Writers and Funds for Writers Small Markets. I learned to love C. Hope Clark and enjoyed her stories as the editor for FFW.
 She let us into her life and encouraged all to write more and more and more. Her answer to anyone who said what do I write about was: everything. If your child is sick. Write about it. If your chicken gets out. Write about it.
If you are bored. Write about it. Her mantra has always been to just write.



It took me years to get to where I would write about it. I thought my stuff was silly and incorrect, but there are ways to find out if it is incorrectly written, as in wrong verbs, wrong voice, etc. Silly is just a frame of mind and you may think it silly, I may think it enlightening.




I joined a writing challenge that has helped me immeasurably to get to writing. It is called 500 Hundred Words a Day and was started by another of my e-mail mentors: Jeff Goins. Both Jeff and Hope have the same mantra: write. Just put your bottom in the chair and write.



You can write first, then edit. Try to put your editor out to grass while you write, you can always invite him back in after you have written the end to the story or rant or blog post, whatever you write. If you leave him in place while writing, you may only get three words done, if you put him out to grass, it may go to three hundred. You will need to edit, anyway, so write as much as you can before you do that edit.
 And ALWAYS edit.


 Who wants to send your first stories out into the world without straightening their ties and brushing their hair?

Changes

Change is the way we grow. We may not like some of them, but through them we learn and grow.
Change can be of our own making, or a result of the universe. It can be a change of heart or a change of locale.

The change of heart can be in your thoughts or the love you thought would be there forever.Someone can come into our lives, and someone can go. How we handle the change is way more important than what the change is. If we accept it as a challenge to go on without what or whoever is gone, we learn more of ourselves and others than if we fight it to the bitter end. They will still be gone. Hanging on to them in heart, mind and body will make the final acceptance harder and will leave some lessons unlearned.

If it is a change of locale, you can try to make the new place exactly like the old place, or you can adapt to the new one the way it is. If it is smaller than where you were, you can downsize your stuff to match it, or throw it all out and start anew. If it is larger, you can expand to match it. If you decide to live in just the space that you have stuff for, you will loose the opportunity to grow into something.


I believe that change is a chance to grow and learn.


Here's to growing and learning. Growing into new things and learning what old things will help us in our growing.

Happy May Day!

When I was in third grade I remember May day. We put on a play welcoming spring and made a maypole out in the playground. We strung ribbons or colored string on the flagpole and then would do a dance where the we would weave them round and round and then unwind them. Can't remember the whole thing, but that was a high light of the year. It meant that school would be out soon and summer vacation.


We also made little May baskets with paper flowers we made in class and then take them home to our parents, maybe hang them on the door and then pretend to find them. It was a tradition to say that spring was here.

Z

Z words are fun and full of frolic and life. I looked them up in my thesaurus and there weren't many, as how could you find alternatives for zed and zoo? I know there are a few, but in the thesaurus there weren't many.
There was zeal, zealous, zenith, zero, zest, zigzag and zone.
You could reach your zenith with zeal. Wind up with a zero as you zigzag through school zones or do all that on a:


Zebra: I watch them with zeal as they roam in their zone at the zoo.


I love words and plays on them, and I really do love zebras. They are like horses, but unlike horses. They are silly and fun to watch tossing their short, brushy manes and nibbling at the grass.


What would it be like to ride a zebra? Are they as controllable as horses? Can you tame them?


What a kick that would be to run free over the African plain with the wind in your hair and the brush of his mane on your face as you lean forward to make him go faster, faster.


May your day be filled with zeal and love of the joy in life.

Y?

Y? Because I love you. That is from the old Mickey Mouse Club song and every time I hear "why" that is what I think of. When I was planning what to write it was right there. I could hear my kids ask, after being told not to walk across the street without looking first, why and I would answer, Because I love you and I want you safe".
I could hear them ask it when all I wanted to do was lock them in their room and throw away the key. I know, I know, child services would be on my doorstep. Again, I would answer them, " because I love you". They did not hear "before I have a breakdown". We do what we do for our kids because we love them. It may not be their idea of love, and I know that people use that excuse to do awful, horrible things, but for the most of us, it truly is an act of love to discipline and take away toys, privileges and send them to their rooms.
This takes me to the ultimate sacrifice our God made: sending his only begotten son to die for us so that we may have forgiveness and everlasting life. When you look at the cross and ask Y? know that you will hear, " Because I love you".


Now, back to the biggest kid. Me. I do this because I love it and love me. Thank you for reading my ramblings.

Xylophones

Xylophones have intrigued me since I saw Lionel Hampton play one on television. He made it look easy and it sounded wonderful. Like church chimes. I never knew how he could play as much music as he could without looking at it, but he did. He kept up his end of the piece.


I thought I could play one. I thought I could do anything I set my mind to do.


What I forgot was that I am basically lazy. By that I mean, if I try something, and try it for a while, I will usually find that it is way more work than I want to produce the effect that I do. I want to be Lionel and only practice once a week. For a half hour. Or less. And maybe only every other week.


I have found musical things I can do that takes less practice to produce the effect that I want. Being good is just fine with me. I play hand bells and I sing in the choir.


But, man, I wish I could like Lionel.

Wishes

What if wishes came true and you knew it? I think sometimes our wishes do come true and we don't know it or acknowledge. Perhaps because they are vaguely worded or, as I call them generic wishes.
You know the kind: I wish it would snow so I won't have work or school tomorrow. And then it does, but not enough to keep you from work or school. But, it did snow, and it is what you wished, so you got one. Or even if you got enough to keep you home that day, what do we usually do? We usually say, ' drat. I have to shovel the stuff'. Which may be why the saying 'be careful what you wish for'.


What if the wish for that A in chemistry had come true and you were heralded for being a chem quiz whiz? And then they discovered you weren't? It was just the wish that made you that way. I will leave the outcome of that in your mind. I already have my version.


On the other hand if every wish came true for everyone, we could be drowning in a sea of mermaids and purple ponies. That would not be fun, because if you are a mermaid how are you going to ride your purple pony?

Valley

Valleys are the low point between two high points. There have been valleys of despair in my life and mountains of very high points.


Valleys can be the prettiest part of the journey. When you come over a hill and see the gently sloping sides that go down to the valley where the green grass is thick and beautiful, you know you are at the end of the journey.


In the valleys are where the grass is thickest and the flowers the most beautiful. The stream splits the valley and the trees grow well near the water.


We sometimes feel like the valley is the low point, rather than a beautiful ending to a journey.


In stories of pioneers, they feel a sweet, sweet relief when they have climbed the mountain, and the valley is there to greet them with shade, grass and water.


It usually is not the end of the journey, but the pause that refreshes so that they may carry on to the end.


And so this should also be a pause, before we get to the end of the journey of the alphabet and our April challenge.

Under the Roof

Our house has a roof overhang over the front walkway. It makes it very nice when the weather is dripping and you need to walk from drive to door.


We use it to hang our hummingbird feeder, wind chimes, Christmas lights and flowers.
Flowers.
Spring.
Nesting birds.
I have a spider plant, some call them airplane plants, that we usually hang up for the growing season and it looks very pretty and adds a springtime look to the front of the house.


We love it.


So do the birds.
 Two years ago hubby hung it out for the season. It was very pretty.


He noticed some activity in it one morning. It was a bird checking it out. The next morning more activity. They were building a nest. Not in his plant they weren't. He chased them away.


Later the same day, while he was gone, they moved back in.




Next morning, tear it out.




Build it back.




He had had enough.
He got some netting we had left from a previous project. He wrapped the netting around the plant, being careful not to hurt the plant.




The next morning the birds were ensconced in the plant. They had found a parting of the upper and lower pieces of netting.


These guys were not giving up. Either of them.




While the birds were out, he tore up the nest, it was really just some grass, and sewed the netting together.


We found the birds hanging on the brick in front our window looking at us.
 A long time.




They tried and tried to get back in. They couldn't.
 Husband was happy.




Two days later we went out the back door to the patio, and...you guessed it. They had set up shop over a light. They got to stay there. This time.




Now, we shall see if they return.