Old Pictures


Found this old (hate to say how old) picture of a 17 yo me on my Arabian stallion, Simuzer. Gorgeous horse, crazy as heck, could jump anything you put in his way, but really nasty-tempered. He tried his best to kill me, LOL, but I remember him with great fondness. I've always loved fast horses and fast cars.

Twenty-six years, and counting

My beloved and I were married that long ago in a small wedding in my parents' house. I wore a tan lace dress by a Chicago designer, Becky Becoulis, and Paul wore a cream-colored suit. Family and friends had as much fun partying after the ceremony as we did. Hard to believe we've been hitched for over a quarter of a century! In this day and age, such longevity is a miracle. Our touchstone has always been, no matter how crazy or downright awful things get, that we love each other and always will. It doesn't hurt that my beloved is a very tolerant, understanding, kind man who has grown to know the right thing to do when I get all creatively insane when the books aren't going well. He takes over the house and all the minutiae of our lives, then tells me to shut the office door and ignore the world until the words are right. Smart man.

The red clay isn't coming out of the soaked sneakers from the parking fields of Martinsville. Guess a trip to Target is in order to replace them. Race stuff is cleaned and packed away, waiting for May's race in Richmond. Pray to the rain gods to sleep through it. Can't wait - Richmond has killer curves and lots of good grooves, and I'd like to see the race on its scheduled day.

Martinsville!

Ever watch a race on TV and laugh at the idiots sitting in the stands, wearing their rain ponchos, waiting for a race to start when clearly, it's not gonna happen? Been there, did that, Sunday in Martinsville. Not only was it raining, it was darned cold and totally miserable.

Rain misery was just the start, because the parking fields on Monday not only had no one to help drivers find a dry spot, but every inch was red clay mud and not just an inch. We made one turn into trouble, and the truck was stuck. My socks were only half of the wet and ick factor. Pushing the truck was the really fun part. (Sarcasm, please.)

The up side was that the race was super. Monday's sun and warmth made up for Sunday's horribleness. My faith in great racing has been restored. Fox almost killed Sunday racing for me, but no more. Despite crummy coverage and boring camera work, nothing Fox can do on TV will kill the joy of Nascar. Get to a track and watch it live! There's nothing like the rumbling start of the engines, shaking in the stands, the scream of 43 cars of incredible horsepower, the flash of overheated brakes. Get thee to a track near you! Don't depend on TV for your racin' fix!

That may be more exclamation points than I've ever used in my entire life...

Winners

So JJ won again - and at Bristol, of all tracks - a place where he's never been good. He's won three of the last six races? Something like that...which leads one to believe he's going to take his fifth championship barring tsunamis, volcanoes, earthquakes, and other natural disasters. What's the sense in getting ticked off about it?

The point is that we're seeing history. One day we'll look back and say, "golly, I saw the champ in his heyday" and it'll be cool. Whenever someone is at the top of his or her craft/profession, from Nora Roberts to George Strait, we should be proud to be around when their game is on and the players are winning. Even if it gets a bit boring, LOL, to see the same names over and over in front of the fireworks.

Speaking of being in the game, the weather has turned and the garden sings its siren song. Can't wait for the azaleas. Forsythia and daffodils are just out.

So what's normal?

Our whey-faced weatherman tells me we're barely three-quarters of an inch over the average rainfall for this year. He lies. Ditches and runoff rage, the river runs at flood stage, and this is our new norm. I feel as if I've moved to Seattle, not a pleasant prospect. Give me sun and heat, a steady dose of humidity, and I'm happy as a clam. Clam-like, I am definitely not.

By the way, I just read an article in which the phrase 'baited breath' was prominent. Please, it's "bated," not baited. Every hook that's been baited in this house is used to try for a fish, not breath.

No racing this weekend. One the one hand, it means Brad K didn't get his chance for payback on Crazy Carl. On the other hand, it means Bad Brad has had two weeks to stoke the fires, something he's doing quite well. When he says he's not backing down, I believe the lad. The true upside of all this is the fans have another topic to discuss, other than Jimmie Johnson's dominance.

Daylight savings time drives me nuts. Why do they do this to us? The animals have no idea why they aren't being fed at their usual hour, so I just keep them on their schedules, not the government's. My mini-forms of rebellion are so tame, it's embarrassing.

The Artist's Way

I'm re-reading Julia Cameron's book, THE ARTIST'S WAY. Haven't looked at it for years, so it's coming thru as new. Really loving how spiritual it is. Some of my favorite quotes so far:

"Creative work is play. It is free speculation using the materials of one's chosen form." Stephen Nachmanovitch

"In a dark time, the eye begins to see." Theodore Roethke (one of my fav poets)

"It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult." Seneca

Being daring, seeing in a dark time, allowing one's self the permission to play with the work, drive the process for me and are the hardest to allow myself to do. Note to self: quite blithering about and just DO IT!

Dick Francis

One of my author heroes has gone to the great writers conference of eternity. Part of me is devastated that I won't have a new Dick Francis book every December, the other part is grateful he left the racetrack to become a writer in the first place. I have a copy of every single one of his books, and I'm going to start re-reading them. Living a long and honorable life is eulogy enough, and Dick Francis deserves every accolade he ever achieved.

Sharon Sala gave a talk years ago about writing the perfect hero, and used romance (her genre) heros as examples. Immediately, Dick Francis' men of good heart, decent manners, and honorable actions came to my mind. So when I got home, I picked up a few Francis books randomly, and listed the characteristic that made me want to marry one of his heroes. (My husband is very like many of the Francis men, so I'm one lucky woman.) Each and every Francis hero strives to do the right thing no matter what the personal cost, including losing a hand. (Sid, you're one tough dude.) Though Francis wrote mysteries, anyone can learn from his body of work. Pacing, dialogue, tension, plotting - he did it all very well indeed. Rumor has it that his wife, Mary, was a silent co-author, and if so, good for them. Whatever it takes to write a great book, is my motto.

Dick Francis wrote great books that hold up well. Years from now, I bet writing conferences and degree programs will be holding seminars on his body of work.

I'll still miss him.

And Daytona is in the books...

Jamie McMurray deserves every bit of joy he earned with the title of Daytona champion last Sunday. Brutal is the only way to describe that race. Seven hours and counting. . . if I'd been in the stands, I would have gone home long before the final green/white checkered flag. Still, everyone did the best they could with an unrepentant pot hole, and tempers were unusually checked. All in all, a good race. Now we can get down to the long season and see if JJ can keep it together. I'm all for the underdog - the Bobby Labontes in underfunded cars, Tommy Baldwin Racing, etc., but that flash of brilliance from someone coming out of Chip Ganassi's stable is cool.

Despite snow clinging to the ground, I'm thinking Spring! It's my only hope of sanity, LOL. If I can finish the first draft of SIGNS before the gardening gets going in earnest, it'll be a fitting reward for a long, hard winter of cold and icky weather.

Hope everyone had a lovely Valentine's Day. My honey and I were headed for a Daytona party, and on the way, encountered a gentleman who'd fallen on hard times. Buying him a burger was our privilege. As a country we can do more for those who need help, and it starts with us. We can't wait for the government to do the job, and shouldn't. "The Blind Side" taught some relevant lessons about caring for others, and I recommend it to everyone. Yes, we are our brothers' keepers.

Will it ever stop snowing?

Enough is enough. It's time to shut down the winter weather and do some serious drying out. Saw dump trucks tipping loads of snow over the bridge railing, into the river this afternoon, a sight I have NEVER SEEN in this city. I'm worried about my azaleas and gardenia bushes - they've never had this much snow piled on them before. The back yard is a total loss - it's a given that we have to start over when it finally warms up.

Enough of the complaining, right? Time to do some work. Back to the book, SIGNS, now that the Super Bowl is over. Great game! The Bud Shootout was fun, the ARCA race fascinating because of the number of women running it (7), including the peripatetic Danica. Alli Owens gets my attention. You go, girl!

With Daytona less than a week away, I'm feeling like there's light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Racing will happen, the snow will melt, and someday we'll see grass again, leaves on the trees, and get to complain about the heat.

And the snows came. . .

You'd think we live in Minnesota or Wisconsin. A place where people love snow. Where white-outs are the norm. But the South? Today is just nuts - the snow is falling so fast, I can't see the street in front of the house. We never have this weather, but guess what? It's hammering us now with a vengeance. Fortunately, the dog thinks this white stuff was invented for her amusement, and going outside isn't the nightmare I thought it would be. Now if I enjoyed it half as much as our Jack Russell Terrorist. . . .

I should tackle another house project, but I think I'll curl up in front of the fireplace with James Lee Burke's TIN ROOF BLOWDOWN. So far it's tough reading - his description of what happened in New Orleans with Katrina chills me to the bone. I'm afraid I'm not brave enough to read this book, but I'll give it a good try. Snowy days are made for pots of hot tea, scones with honey, a good book, and the cat on my lap. The book shelf can wait for a clear-out for another day. Besides, I really don't want to weed out any of my 'keepers.'

Oh, the oddest and most interesting thing happened. I was researching WW II stories for a character in SIGNS, who is an old soldier, and quite by accident found a Stars and Stripes article from 1945 that mentioned my grandfather in an account of the 11th
Armored in Europe. As another way to avoid writing (my list could fill a barn), I decided to put my grandfather's name into Bing. Lo and behold, I saw a nine year old posting from a lady who was looking for information on my gf for her family tree. Talk about surprises! Her email addy was current, and we've been exchanging what information we have. The power of the Internet is astounding.

Short Stories

I'm reading a book of short stories compiled by Larry McMurtry, set in the American West from 1950-2000. While I once wrote shorts for various publication, all romances or scifi, I'd forgotten the allure of the art form. Within a short space, say ten pages, the reader learns something important to the hero of the story in each of the ones I've read so far. The writing is colorful, sensual, and filled with dialogue I would kill to mimic. Yet each story contains a hard, unyielding truth that jumps out of the page because it's undiluted. No stable of secondary characters, no intertwined plot lines, no foolin' around. At the end of each story, I just go "aahhh," and reel back, feeling as if I've hit the jackpot.

It's time to relearn the form. Going to give it a try, shake up the writing routine.

January is a long month

It's been too long, mostly because of family emergencies that kept me out of town and away. All is well now, I'm home and watching football. I can't remember the last time I vegged out watching football on TV (unless it's VaTech, natch). There's plenty to do, but I just don't want to. Not a good habit to develop, LOL.

I've just had a battle royale to get my web hosting company to go away. Beware of Lunarpages - they dig in their claws, and even if you repeatedly tell them you don't want their services any longer, they refuse to believe you. Even when you've declined every offer to extend the contract, they try to charge your credit card for another year's hosting. So people, run if you don't want to get stuck with a web hosting company that can't take "no" for an answer. I will never understand why, since they were emailing me at the address they had on file, and I answered from that same address, they didn't believe I was the person they said I had to be. It's a long story....

Ah, another rant - I feel it coming on. Know-it-alls. She who thinks the only way is her way. She-who-insists-you-must-do-it-her-way. Even if the recipient of all this advice and dire warning doesn't want the advice and warning, and hasn't requested it. Even if the recipient has told this know-it-all to cease and desist. Sigh. How hard it must be for some people to keep opinions to themselves. I'm not the person in the middle of this mess, just a sideliner, but boy howdy. It's hard to sit on one's hands and not let loose a scathing retort or two when you see someone being bullied. I keep reminding myself it's those with eyes and hearts already closed and locked shut who miss out on the most marvelous surprises. Being open to the new, the innovative, the different is one of the true joys of life. Can't do that if you already know it all.

Counting the days until the Daytona 500. Fingernails are almost down to the quick. Need my racing fix - just a whiff of exhaust, the slightest of rumbles, a flash of gaudy colors on a track - and I'll be able to survive until the Big Day, Feb. 14. No, not Valentine's Day, LOL.

So much for that . . .

The Sony e-reader was a big disappointment. As an owner of the first Rocket e-reader, I was expecting an easy path to putting books in the e-library, and clear reading. Not so. First of all, you have to enter a CC to even set up the library, even if you don't buy anything from the Sony store. That ticked me off. If I never bought a book from Sony, they'd still have all my financial info floating around. Then I began reading about how people couldn't access books they'd purchased, and I began to worry. Tried the screen in daylight, and it didn't even come close to being readable.

The end result is that the Sony no longer lives here. Major bummer. I hope someone invents a screen you can read in the car in daylight. And that they allow you to set up a library without a credit card, since you can't operate the reader without a library. I don't mind entering cc info when I'm purchasing a book, but to require one just to set the reader up? Nope, not this chicky.

The office clean-up is in the chaos stage. Pulled files out, dumped drawers, and generally created a mess just so I'll have to weed through it before putting it back somewhere. The question so far is: where? Ah, that's the rub. I'm determined to be less of a paper-hoarder, but it's hard to break a lifetime love affair with paper.

If you haven't seen THE BLIND SIDE, go. It's the best movie I've seen so far this season. Characters you care about. How unusual....

The Day After

Sounds like a post-nuclear bomb story, huh? Not that bad, just the post-Christmas explosion of wrapping paper and ribbons that means Christmas is over and it's time to clean up. I'm big on getting all the decorations put away right after the Big Day, because it's over, right? But this year, the tree has been up only a week, so I may have to relent and let it reign in all its sparkly glory a while longer. The house always looks naked after the decorations return to the attic, anyway. Kinda sad.

My beloved gave me a Sony ereader! Can't wait to start playing with it. It's going to be interesting to see what-all it will do. The screen is incredibly clear, that's for sure. I love being able to adjust the font size. Now, if we'd just get some sunshine, I'll check it out in daylight. It's been pouring rain here nonstop, which made for crummy weather. On the up side, most of the snow is gone. It was getting old and dirty-looking, not very white-Christmas.

Think I'll hit my New Year's resolutions early this year and see if I can shovel out the desk and office. Then it'll be time to buckle down to the writing again, hurrah! While I love the holidays, it sure puts a crimp in my computer time with the book.

BTW, only 50 days until the Daytona 500!! I can feel it comin', the stands shakin', the crowd roaring. . . .

Again, apologies

It's been ages, and I have no excuse other than Christmas, two birthdays (the 4th and the 20th) and the usual baking, cleaning, decorating, etc. You'd think I'd have enough experience under my belt to be organized. Harumph. I wish. The need to change it up always strikes, and that means starting from square one. I wish I could put the same decorations outside on the house year after year, and be done with it. But no, I have to rethink the scheme every year. And the house theme. Sigh. At least I like it, LOL. My poor husband has to come up with ways to make things work, shine, sparkle, etc., and so far he has never failed me. I still remember the year I had him drill holes in the Douglas fir and insert more branches to make the tree look fuller. He used glue and wire, and it worked.

The rains have been coming and coming, and then coming some more. Our yard looks like a swamp on one side and a lake on the other. I know we should be grateful for this surfeit of wet, but enough is enough. I have no idea how people live in the Pacific Northwest. I would turn into a lunatic with 350 days of rainfall.

I finished the first No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency - and have no idea why I didn't read it before. Charming. I'm surprised how faithful the first of the HBO series was to the book. Jill Scott is the perfect Mma Ramotose. Where's the third season, may I ask? I'm waiting. . . .

I'm terribly tempted with a new e-reader. The Nook looks cool, as does the Kindle. However, having been burned with the first e-reader, years ago ($500!), I'm taking my time. I LOVED that e-reader, which could take HTML content, but which is alas, now useless and gathering dust in a closet somewhere.

If I don't get back before Christmas, have a merry one. Be filled with joy and may your new year be one of constant blessings.

This and That

Can't believe it's been so long since my last post. Will have to try to make up for my laziness. Well, not laziness. Just been too busy. Now that the leftovers are in the ice box and I'm too wired from running full tilt boogie to sleep, I can take a break and do some writing. This is a good place to start.

So, Jimmie Johnson (who gives a male child the name of 'Jimmie'?) has taken his fourth Cup title in a row, a new record. Give the guy (and especially his crew chief, Chad Knaus) major kudos, and then figure out how to beat him. Let's see hard, hard racing next year, not this cruising around making points to get into the Chase, the only ten races that really count.

The Christmas rush isn't going to be such a rush, if retailers are correct in their predictions. About time. Let's cut out all this uber-gift giving mania. As a child with a November birthday, I remember hoarding every birthday cash gift so I could buy gifts for Christmas. Never bought myself a present. It was the whole idea of giving that I loved. No gift was very expensive, because I didn't have the means, but each was lovingly chosen, and I'd augment them with something homemade. If I'm not making a Christmas gift, it just isn't Christmas for me. I was bereft when my children outgrew their American Girl dolls, and I wasn't stitching up doll dresses on Christmas eve.

I'm re-reading Tony Hillerman and catching up on some James Lee Burke I missed. How I'll miss Tony Hillerman. And Kate Duffy, who really cared about books and their authors.

Now, it's back to work. The house is quiet, everyone will sleep late, and the book is half-done.

'Dega!

OH my stars. What was Nascar thinking, telling the drivers how to drive at Dega? Cut their power with the restrictor plate, cut it even more, and the disaster was bound to happen. The disaster was Newman on Harvick's roof, then his own, and the final smash-up at the white flag. Congrats to McMurray, kudos to Kahne for pulling himself up to 9th place in the Chase, and thank goodness the fall Dega race is over.

The change in time has dark settling at 5 p.m. Bummer. Time for hibernation and more writing.