Vanity

I have decided that I am very vain. I have just spent a great deal of time going through photos to make a small album of my life for my friend Betty, whom I mentioned in the last post. I discovered numerous pictures of me both as a small child and as a wife, and mother.

I have been small and big and I'm not talking about age. I have always been a little over-weight with the exception of when I was a child. As my grandmother always said, I was "big-boned". But as I tried to select pictures from each decade I deliberately set aside the ones that particularly showed that.

We have many photo albums but luckily, I do not appear frequently in them. I hate to have my picture taken at the best of times and certainly not at the worst. The worst being when I am particularly "large". My family has been aware of this and very kind about it too. They do sneak a shot in once in awhile but I have hidden the latest ones. Why? Because I'm very vain.

"Vanity is the excessive belief in one's own abilities or attractiveness to others." That is Wikipedia's definition and one with which I concur. I am concerned with my attractiveness to others. I like to know that when I go out I am dressed well and appropriately for each occasion, partly in order that my husband will be proud of me but mainly for my own satisfaction. I want to feel good about myself and knowing that I look good does that for me.

Lately it has been very hard to achieve a sense of "looking good" when through no fault of my own, but for medical reasons, I have ballooned in size. Nothing seems to fit right or feel right. I sometimes feel like I should wear a sign saying "this is fluid not fat". I know that I sound like I'm whining and I guess I am.

I don't like that this bothers me so much because I know it is who you are as a person that is the most important quality but as I said earlier, I want to look good too. For that reason I chose my graduation photo from University in 1989. I could have picked my wedding photo or the photos taken during my pregnancy with my daughter or son. They were good ones as well. But this photo is one of my favorites. It not only shows me in a thinner period but I can boast that after hard work, under difficult circumstances, I got my degree at 48. So you see, I am vain using either of the two clauses in the definition.

Childhood Memories

On the weekend I will be seeing a woman who was so important to me as an infant that I should never have let life get in the way of staying in contact.
I have not spoken to her for well over 50 years but talking to Betty tonight brought back comments and memories of such affection and love that I was reduced to happy tears.

This woman and her husband nurtured me for quite some time while I was a very little girl...so little that I remember the time in bits and pieces. I will have to check with her but I believe I was two or three at the most. Apparently they took care of me during the war while my mother worked and for some time I stayed with them on his parent's farm(Momma and Poppa's)until Betty and Del got their own home. Some of these times came flooding back.

--I remember Del building me a swing on a limb of the big old tree in their front yard and he and Betty pushing me "up to the sky". I reminded Betty of that tonight. She had forgotten.

--Going to the farm with Momma and Poppa and being chased by the turkeys. I hated and feared the old turkeys. I have never minded eating turkey since.

--Being in the old farm house kitchen with such wonderful aromas that I can almost smell them now. We got to eat the apple peelings for the pie apples.

--Watching while Momma 'laid up' many, many jars of fruits and vegetables. There were no freezers as such.

--It was always the same too in the big white house on Queen Street. Whenever I would go Momma always had cookies or some other delectable thing baking. Her houses were always welcoming.

--On the phone tonight Betty told me of Poppa always rocking me in the old rocker and singing "a song about an apple tree-- over and over". Now my daughter, and I too, know why I liked the song "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree With Anyone Else But Me" so much.

When Betty and Del had a daughter of their own they named her after me. Surprisingly she looked a little like me too with the same blond hair and blue eyes.

I have never known for sure how long I was with this wonderful family, or even if it was just a daycare thing or overnight and Betty is at an age where she is not certain either,but I find it easier to remember that age with them than with my own family. No one in my family ever talked to me about it. I do know that my father was overseas at the time from letters he wrote to his mother.

I had tried once or twice to find them but only knew Del by a nickname and Momma and Poppa were gone.
I was messing around on Facebook one night and decided, out of the blue, to type in their daughter's name. I found it attached to an obituary for her father Del. I contacted the funeral home who gave the message to Jane, Del's daughter.

Unfortunately I had waited six months too long to reconnect with these wonderful people. I never got the chance to let Del know how much he meant to me. It just proves that we should not wait to connect to ones we love or those whom have had an impact on our lives. As the adage goes you can only be sure of today. Tomorrow may be too late. In this day and age of fax, telephone and email there is no excuse.

Here I go Again.

Once again I have picked up my first major work in progress, commonly known in the "industry" as my WIP. The good thing is I really like the story. The bad thing is it needs work. Maybe lots of work.

I have been told that I write very formally so I will have to change that by making more contractions but in all honesty I tend to write like I talk. Until all this was pointed out to me I had no idea that I did this. It's funny because as I read over the last two sentences I saw that I was still doing it. I'm not sure that I have always been so formal or if it is a result of attending university in my forties. Whatever, it is going to take some time to fix this.

It has been suggested that I need to make my heroine a little stronger. Instead of crying over the problems with the hero she should possibly be angry or use some other emotion to get the point across. I think I can do that. After reading over some of the important scenes I can see how the recurring flow of tears could be a turn off for the reader. I'll have to work on that.

There is one important thing I need to do. Most of the work is done in conversation. It will be necessary to put in some introspection and more description I guess. This is something that I will only be able to decide as I re-read the work.

I still have problems with 'showing', a good thing, and 'telling', not so good. I had someone read a scene from my work at our writers' meeting to see which the scene was doing. Luckily I learned that that particular piece was 'showing'. What a relief. Phew! Just a few technical suggestions. It was nice to know that it was also well received as a good bit of writing. That's great because I really liked that scene. One scene down. Two hundred or so to go.

Community

The Canadian College Dictionary defines 'community' as: 1. a group of people living together or in one locality and subject to the same laws, having common interests, characteristics etc. 2. the district or area in which they live.

I would suggest that when it comes to the military, police or fire fighters this does not go far enough. In my experience the military community suggested family. A closeness that I have read only exists in the other two groups. Whether it is only because in these groups you must 'have each others backs' in perilous situations or just the fact that it is possible you will be put in such circumstances I don't know. I do know that for me the military became my family. I served in the Canadian Air Force for three years working in a radar tower watching and plotting aircraft for NORAD. Even though it was my first time away from home I loved my job and the people I worked with. As the definition says we had many common interests.

Then I married an airman and through 22 years we stayed involved with the air force and again wherever we went we were folded into the 'family'. I learned to be very adaptable as did our children as we moved from base to base. The three years we lived in Germany was a wonderful experience even through the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia and the invasion of our base supposedly by a member of the Bader Meinhof gang.

In Canada we clung together with our members during the horrible days of the crash on our base and the loss of three men. It seemed that everyone congregated at the arena and then the snack bar, in common grief. It was a terrible time and especially when it happened when my husband's aircraft was due to land and there was some confusion as to who was involved. We pulled together and got through it, helping one another and those involved who were injured.
You do not forget that kind of closeness. It is a very tight group. Being away from your family the people you are with become your family, bolstered by your common experiences.

It is for this reason that I still feel very close to the military family. I can relate to the wives who watch their husbands board a plane taking them off on a mission, some into war zones. I have been there. I understand the long wait; the days and nights wondering what he is doing.

I cannot know what the military widow is feeling but I ache for the families and what they must be going through each time the news reports that we have lost another mother's son. It is for this reason that I felt I should take the time this week to pay my respects to our fallen soldier, a dear friend of my son. It was not my first military funeral but I hope it will be my last. The solemn drum beat, the slow march, the tolling bell and the flag draped coffin brought back memories of other military funerals, of other lost friends. As the tears fell and we said good bye to Dennis I prayed to keep our soldiers safe. They are family.

TARA

I lost a good friend on Friday. Tara was my 13yo German Shepherd. She would have been 14 on January 17.

It is hard for me to believe that in the beginning I didn't want this wonderful girl. I had just had to put Toby, my cocker spaniel down on the Tuesday and on the Saturday my DH and DGS tried to convince me that I needed this dog when we came to town to visit our family. My DD had sighted her three weeks before while working on a charity event for the Humane Society and had called and said, "Mom, there's a German Shepherd pup available and you know how you love German Shepherds...." I told her I didn't need another dog in spite of the fact that we were living on a farm at the time and had lots of room. "But mom, she's really cute and you'd just love her." I kept saying no.

Then after Toby died my DH was determined that I have another dog since I lived way out in the country and I was alone all day. No matter how many times I said "NO!" that Saturday we ended up taking Tara. We were staying overnight so my DD got permission to bath Tara at the pound and brought her to us on the Sunday.

It took me awhile to warm up to Tara I am ashamed to say. I was still grieving for Toby. Tara had the patience of Job and I guess she realized that I would grow to love her because one day she just jumped into my lap and that was it. I was hooked.

We have had some funny experiences with Tara. She loved to run in the fields at the farm. It was 200 acres with a woodland on it too. My DD came to visit with her dog one day and took the two dogs and my GDS for a walk into the woods where they found a marsh. DD threw a stick telling her dog to fetch it but before the other dog, Sam, could react Tara had leaped into the water after the stick. It was my dog that came trotting home covered in mud and foul smelling water but with a big smile on her face.

Tara was great at leaping. We had to put her into a kennel whenever we went away. When we went to pick her up the owner told us she had leaped the eight foot fence and gotten into the outer yard when she heard a car pull up. She thought it was us. We left her at that kennel several times over a period of 1 1/2 years as both our fathers were dying so that we traveled back and forth a lot. It seemed each time we returned there was another story of Tara leaping or climbing up the chain link fence trying to get out. The owner ended up putting a roof over her kennel. He never refused to take her though. He liked her.

Tara was afraid of loud noises. During thunderstorms her favorite place to hide was in the bathtub. We tried all kinds of things to help her get over her fear but nothing worked. The same thing happened with a car back-fire or fireworks. The poor dog was beside herself with fear. We never knew why.

I forgot to mention one of the funniest things that happened that involved DH, Tara and PennyCat. We inherited the cat from my DGS as Penny didn't like my son's new wife and stepson coming into their lives. Anyhow, one day DH was playing tug with Tara using a heavy toy rope. Tara was snarling and growling, as dogs do when they're engaged in this activity. Suddenly Penny jumped off the dining room chair and onto Tara's back. Tara didn't know what was going on. (Luckily Penny doesn't have front claws.) I took the cat off the dog and sent her away. Tara and DH started playing again and I have no idea where the cat came from this time but again she jumped on the dog swatting her hard on the nose, hissing and spitting. She was protecting DH from Tara.

Tara and Penny used to play well together after they got used to each other. Initially Penny hid under the couch and whenever Tara passed the cat would swat her. Then, the chase was on. First the dog would chase the cat and then the cat would chase the dog. The farmhouse we were renting was quite large and had long halls and a full finished basement. We would hear these two chasing each other around the house, having a great time. I think Penny really liked Tara though because every so often she would bring her a mouse.

Tara loved DH too. On the farm she would wait for DH to come home from teaching school and if he wasn't home when she thought he should be she would cry. She seemed to have an internal clock that let her know when DH was due home. When he appeared she would grab her favorite toy in her mouth and run to greet him, wagging her tail from side to side and also wagging it in circles like a plane's propeller. I don't think I ever saw a dog do that before.

I have been quite sick in the last few years and Tara was my unofficial "nurse". Before leaving for work DH would tell her to look after me. She took the job quite seriously. One of my problems is that if I bend down I black out or pass out. The first couple of times I actually went out, when I came to Tara was washing my face. Also I was told by my DH to stay in my chair until such time as my DD could make it over from work to stay with me. It was not unusual for Tara to jump into my lap and stay there for a half hour or more until I got the idea. Then she would lie on the floor on top of my feet.

It was because of Tara that we first learned our DGS, who was about six at the time, had inherited his Great Grandfather's love of puns. When he was visiting one time Tara was playing with DGS and Michael piped up, "Mama, Tara is Tara-rising me."

Tara was a very smart girl. She was a wonderful dog. I miss her terribly.

I'm Baaaack!

For medical reasons I have been truly remiss in not keeping my blog up to date.
I have two epics, okay only short novels, in the works, both of which are not finished. I am having serious problems
controlling my hands with some pain as well.

I have only to revise my first book with the suggestions from my reader and it will be finished. I have been unable to do that but may be able to now. I would like to complete this project for several reasons. For one, I like the basic plot. My female character needs a little more backbone which should not be too hard to supply. I have a couple of small changes to make too and then it should be ready. I hope to finalize all these changes within the next couple of months. I would like to be able to send it out to a publisher by the fall.

The second project is truly in need of major reworking. I started this as a NaNoWriMo project but due to the numbness in my hands could not complete it. Although I have been unable to write I have been thinking about it, as well as the first project. This work is important to me as it does have a minor character who is autistic.

I spent most of my time during NaNo doing research rather than writing and I think the main plot got lost in the process. As a result I ended up with major "info dump" as my author friends have called it. I wanted so badly to make the autism part of the story that it almost took over. In effect I lost my focus which was the romance between the hero and heroine.

I think my order of business must be to revise the first project before going on to the second. The second story is not really fleshed out enough so that I am not sure how it will end. I have concentrated too much on the middle. Possibly it will mean throwing out most of what I have done and start again. I don't know, but I do want to be able to finish both projects at some point. Wish me luck.

Christmastime Carolling

Hello all you jolly people. Get out your song books and join in to the carollers. I have hot chocolate and Baileys waiting for you when you are through. You CBs are great. Lovely voices. I hope I have successfully added a pretty picture to make you smile this Christmas. Sing out now and then we can enjoy a meet at the next blog. Merry Christmas to all.