All Moved In

I moved into a new home last weekend. Because I was in the middle of a move, I've been offline for a few days. Before that I was packing. It's been busy. What can I say, Moving is "Sometimes Hard, But Oh-So Worth It!"

I'm in the Syracuse Utah area now (about 30 miles north of where I was before). I have a lot to learn about the area.

It will come with time. And practice.

Kind of like writing.

Lillian Hellman says it well,

"Nothing you write, if you hope to be good, will ever come out as you first hoped."


Practice, Practice, Practice!

* * * * *

Today's writing quote was taken from The Write Planner, my day planner designed for writers. To learn more about The Write Planner, click here

I Need Friends Friday - My Interview

Today I am featured on Sarah M. Eden's weekly interview: I Need Friends Friday.

Go check it out!

My Tale of Two Shoes

Random Tidbit About Me: Week 8

I can’t stand loosing things. It makes me crazy.

And I don’t like to buy shoes. I have bigger feet, and they just don’t look as cute in the bigger sizes then the cute little size 6. So I only have a limited supply of shoes. And why would I want to spend money on shoes when I could spend it on something important. Like books. Or chocolate.

Today’s post is a re-post from my other blog’s archives.

It’s a Tale of Two (lost) Shoes.

I hope you enjoy.

It began like any other Sunday morning. I was being lazy. I knew I needed to get moving so I wouldn't be running late when it was time to go to church. But knowing I should be doing something, and actually doing it, are two separate things.

After a couple hours of laziness, I hurried to get ready. I went to put my shoes on, so I could head out the door. It was then that I noticed something was missing from my closet.

My shoes!

Well, that's not entirely true. I was missing two shoes, but they were two different shoes.

I'm not like so many women out there that have seven pairs of the same black shoes. I don't really like to buy shoes, and therefore only have a bare minimum of them. I have one pair of dress shoes, and I wear them every week to church. (I need to fix that!)

Because I had spent the morning milling around I found myself rushing to get out the door. So I wasn't happy about finding only a single church shoe.

My daughter Emily has this game, where she puts anything she can find in a cupboard, or a drawer, or anywhere "hidden". She tells me it's "baking." (Thanks to the toy kitchen set at the church nursery.) Because of her game, I've found myself searching the house many-a-times for something I was missing. It always turns up, eventually.

I spent 10 minutes going through every hiding place I could think of. I was getting more frustrated by the second. I tried asking her where she had put them, but she didn't have an answer for me. (She usually does.) By this time I was late and realized I had to give up. I went back to the closet to consider my options.

The two shoes that looked back at me didn’t match…but maybe…hmmmm… No, even if I were desperate enough to try that (which, I wasn't), they were both left shoes. I've heard of people having two left feet, but come on now!

So I resorted to wearing a pair of black boots that looked ridiculous, and hoped no one would look at my feet.

After I got home my husband helped search the house again. Nothing. Nada.

I pride myself on keeping a fairly clean and organized house, and it drives me crazy to have things go missing. I finally had to give up again, because I was so annoyed about it.

Maybe the shoes decided to divorce their matching shoe companions, and run away together? I thought.

But no, it was nothing quite so exciting and scandalous. I found them both the next day, in the bottom of the dirty clothes basket, as I did the laundry.

Turns out I have to blame my son Ryan for this one, and somehow make it up to Emily for blaming her. Ryan loves to put things in the laundry. The best part is, I probably covered the shoes up myself, when I put my towel in the basket after my shower.

You've Got Mail

Remember the movie "You've Got Mail", with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks? Of course you do! Then you probably remember the part where Meg Ryan describes the feeling of getting a new email.

"What will NY152 say today, I wonder. I turn on my computer. I wait impatiently as it connects. I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: You've got mail. I hear nothing. Not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beating of my own heart. I have mail. From you."

I'm so glad I don't have to deal with the dial-up noise, while the computer works to get a connection, but my anticipation of opening my browser is about the same as Meg's.

My heart races, and I'm filled with hope. Hope that someone will have responded to my email. Hope that an old friend will have sent well wishes my way.

With modern technology, I am one of many who has email capabilities on my cell phone. That means I am connected, no matter where I am. And with that capability, my phone chimes whenever something new is dropped into my inbox. That sound makes me drop whatever I'm doing, and race to see who emailed me. It's an addiction, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I LOVE EMAIL!

The most disappointing feeling is when I open my account, only to find junk mail, or a long list of forwards. I want PERSONAL mail. I want to feel important and loved. If only my phone would know how to sort emails, according to my mood. I want to hear from this person, but not that store advertising the latest sale. (Yes, I know about filters, but some still sneak through the cracks.) I want to hear news that applies to me. Perhaps I'm being selfish. But I can't be the only one to feel this way, can I?

I am an email junkie. Most of the time, I'd rather correspond through email then in person or by phone. The idea of web-cam conversations terrify me. There is so much pressure to keep up a constant dialogue. I'm not a great conversationalist. For some people that comes naturally, but I struggle. With email, I can think, write, then rewrite my thoughts until they make sense.

What type of communication do you prefer?

Gotta go now! I just heard the oh-so wonderful chime from my phone, announcing the arrival of a new email! I hope it's a good one.

Tag - I'm it.

Last week (or was it the week before?), I got tagged by Michelle Teacress. She's a writer friend, and member of my critique group.

For my "About Me" Friday post, I'll answer the tag questions (five times each). Reader beware, this could get boring. :)

Where were you five years ago?

1- Working too much overtime. (60+ hours/week.)

2- Excited beyond belief to finally be expecting a baby, only to loose it to miscarriage. (Time heals all wounds. That, and my two beautiful children that followed.)

3- Worrying about my husbands health problems and job change. (Don't worry, he's ok!)

4- Going on the stake Pioneer Trek, as the official photographer. (Way cool!)

5- 50 pounds heavier. (Go Weight Watchers!)

Where would you like to be in five years?

1- A published author, with an active writing career.

2- Living in the home I plan to stay in while my kids grow up.

3- With the wisdom gained in five years time, but not the wrinkles or weary joints.

4- Have a kitchen floor that, after every single meal, does not need to be swept and mopped.

5- The same weight I am now. Who am I kidding, I'd love to be a few pounds less!

What is on your To-Do list today?

1- Errands: Grocery store, bank, Walmart, clothes shopping for the kidlets.

2- Take my daughter swimming. Hopefully get her more comfortable in the water.

3- Write 1,000 words on my WIP.

4- Make a couple phone calls for my church calling.

5- Write today's blog post. (Yay, I'm half-way done with this one!)

What snacks do you enjoy?

1- Anything chocolate.

2- Anything cheesecake.

3- Wheat Thin crackers.

4- Granola bars.

5- Popcorn.

What would you do with a billion dollars?

1- A billion dollars? Seriously? Who could ever use that much money?

2- Stop world hunger?

3- Fix the oil leak in the ocean?

4- Buy a house with a gas fireplace and a large jetted tub. Oh, and central air for my hubby!

5- Get rid of 90% of it, before it changes who I am.

Okay, so I'm cheating here, and not tagging anyone new. If you want to answer the questions, just copy and paste them. (And don't forget to let me know, so I can check them out!)

Oops, I Did It Again!

For as long as I can remember, I've been a cluts. Growing up, it seems like I always had a battle wound of some kind. I have the scars to prove it.

I worry constantly about the things my children do, that will inevitably injure one or both of them. Things like jumping on the couch or spinning around until they're too dizzy to stand up. Their favorite thing lately is running back and forth toward each other, with blankets covering their heads. Um...ok?

For me, my nemesis is the stairs. I think they have it out for me. (Can I make stairs into the antagonist of my next novel? Probably not.)

I fall up the stairs. I fall down the stairs. So far I haven't fallen through any stairs, but give me time. It's bound to happen.

Last week, I tripped while going up the stairs. Our top stair is a safety hazard. It's got a tile edge, and I constantly worry that the kids will crack a head open. So far, they've been fine. I, however, have not avoided injury. At least it wasn't my head. I scraped up my shin in two different places from that fall.

A couple of days later I was going down the stairs. It was right before church, and I was wearing my heels. Well, one of the heels caught on the carpet and I went down, face first. My legs buckled under me, and my other shin got scraped up.

So now I'm walking around with two wounded legs, not to mention my wounded pride.

I think I need to move into a rambler.

Dimes Make Me Happy

Like many people, I have a jar full of coins. Every now and then, I cash it in and get something fun. I actually have two jars. One contains quarters, nickels and pennies. The other has only dimes.

Why? Dimes make me happy. They're my favorite coin. If I'm in the store, and trying to come up with spare change to pay for something, I will usually skip the dime in my hand, and give the cashier either two nickels or a quarter. I don't like to part with dimes.

It's a habit I got from my dad. Growing up, we always had a container of dimes around. If I remember right, it was a large coke bottle, about two feet tall. You know the ones. I also remember hearing that it was that very jar that funded a trip to Disney Land for the family. I'm not sure if it paid the whole way, but it most certainly helped out.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my little jar full of dimes, but it has to be something great, or I won't be able to part with them. Until then, I'll just hang on to them and keep them safe.

A Magical Time of Day

Random Tidbit about me: Week 3

On any given day, there are certain times I look forward to. Take meal times, for instance. I love when the clock gives me permission to eat. I wish I only ate when the clock says it's okay, but that just aint happening.

During the weekdays, I look forward to 10:00 am. That's when my daughter's favorite TV show comes on (Word World), and I can get a few things done without feeling (too) guilty.

I love 1:00 pm because that's nap time. (Don't judge me!)

I'm not a fan of 8:00 pm, because that's bed time. (Too much work!)

I'm definitely not a fan of 6:00 am, or any earlier. I need my beauty sleep. (Really, I need it!)

But my very favorite time of day?

12:34.

I love it.

I can't help but smile when I look at the clock and see those cute little numbers all lined up in row, and in order to boot. So much fun. It's a magical time of day.

Of course, I prefer the 12:34 pm time over the 12:34 am time. When I see the later, I know it's going to be a short night. Especially when my son's new favorite time is 6:30 am.

I Like It Hot

Random Tidbit about me: Week 2

When it comes to food, I like it hot. Or cold. Never luke warm.

My husband and I have very different opinions on when our food is hot. I like my hot chocolate to be just that: Hot. Once it's cooled down, even just a little, it is not longer appealing to me. However, when I make some for him, he lets it cool down for a good five minutes before trying it. By that point, mine is already gone.

The same goes for soup. Luke warm soup tastes terrible to me. It's not uncommon for me to re-heat mine halfway through the meal. It's the way I like it. He just looks at me and shakes his head, then blows on his own before taking a spoonful.

There are, however, some things that should be served cold. Take ice cream for example. I like my ice cream to be good and cold. It's better that way.

I few days ago my family was having ice cream for dessert. I pulled the container out of the freezer, so it would soften a little. (I like it cold, but not rock hard.) When my 3 year old daughter asked to have some, I told her it had to warm up first.

She said, "But Mom, I like it cold."

I guess she has preference on food temperature too.

Beyond the Introductions...

We all know what it's like to meet someone new. Whether you are introduced by someone else, or you are required to introduce yourself, there is a basic formula.

"Hi, I'm Kim. What's your name?"

"I'm Katelyn. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

*Slightly awkward silence follow*

"So... what are your interests?"

"I'm an aspiring author."

"Really? Me too! What do you write?"

And so on. We may or may not remember that person's name afterward, no matter how badly we try. But we've officially met. Now what?

It's fun to dig a little deeper, and really get to know them. What makes them tick. Why do they do things the way they do? What unusual things do you both have in common? This type of getting-to-know-you takes time. We don't usually learn a person's cousin's friend's dog's name during our first conversation.

I thought it would be fun to start a weekly series, where I will explain one of my person characteristics. Maybe expose a little more of what makes me who I am. Maybe I can get to know some of you a little deeper in the process.

Random tidbit about me - Week 1:

I love notebooks. I don't think love is a strong enough word. I practically worship them. (I said practically!) I think it's kind of like a foot fetish, only I can't be sure, because I don't actually like feet.

Notebooks make me happy. Especially brand new ones. They're so crisp and clean. All those blank pieces of paper, just waiting for me to cover them with ink.

I have them in all sizes. I have side-bound, top-bound, spiral, and non-spiral. Some have cute covers. Some have plain covers.

I can usually find at least one notebook in every room of my house. There is almost always one in my bag. Or two.

I can't think without a notebook in my hands. Oh, and a pen usually helps too. Even if I only make one note, or write down one item on my To-do list, I've learned that I can relax, as soon as I've written it in a handy-dandy notebook.

And then life can go on, until I need to reach for that beloved notebook, once again.

Back to Square One

Last week I went into a jewelry store, and approached the desk area.

“I need to have my wedding ring re-sized,” I said.

“Do you need to have it sized up, or down,” the woman asked.

“Down please,” I respond. I pull it off my bigger-middle finger. (I hate referring to it as my birdie finger, but you know the one.) It has been riding around on that finger for a half-year or so.

“Oh,” says sales woman. “Have you lost weight then?”

“Yes I have.” Even after six months, I still can’t help but beam when the subject is brought up.

“Really? How did you do it?”

I reveal my source, which is no secret.

“WEIGHT WATCHERS!”

I’m a huge fan. No, I don’t work for them. No, I don’t get paid for referrals for giving them commercial blog time. But it works! (I lost 50 pounds, and made it to my goal.)

“Wow! Congratulations,” says the sales woman. She pulls out the handy dandy ring-sizing templates, and we find a nice fit.

Then she asks, “Are you interested in purchasing our lifetime protection plan? That way, you can have it sized up and down as often as you need, for no extra charge.”

I stare at her. In my mind I’m trying to convince myself not to get annoyed.

Finally I say, “No thank you. I’m not going to need to have it sized up again.”

Which brings me to an observation. It must have been about seven years ago that I had the ring sized up to begin with. Looking back at that now, I wish I wouldn’t have done it.

It stuns me to remember how casual it was for me back then. Hey, my ring doesn’t fit anymore. I guess I need to have it sized up. Hey, my pants don’t fit me anymore. I guess I need to buy a bigger size. And then a year later, I’m buying a size up from that. No big deal. The pant sizes must be shrinking.

Before I knew it, I was 50 pounds overweight, and hating myself for it. How did I let myself get so out of control? It didn’t happen overnight, but it all added up.

I finally got to a place in my life where I was not comfortable with who I was. I dealt with a lot of self-esteem problems. I felt of little worth. I felt ugly, and just plain fat. It wasn’t who I wanted to be. So I found something that worked for me, and dusted off the old self-control. (Now that I made it to goal, the self-control issue is a constant thorn-in-my-side.)

When I walked back into that jewelry store a few days later, I approached the same sales woman. She pulled out my ring, and I looked at it. At first I thought it must be the wrong ring. It was so much smaller than I’d been used to.

I tried it on and it fit perfectly. It was just like new. It was the same size it had been when I got married. (Hey, just like the new me.)

Sometimes it becomes our worst nightmare when we find ourselves back at square one. Like writing a story, and realizing it’s not working out so you have to start over. Or mopping the kitchen floor, just to have the kids spill on it again.

But every now and then, finding square one again is exactly what we were after all along.

Have you ever been happy to find yourself back at the beginning?

Journaling – To type or Not to type; that is the question.

I’ve been a sporadic journal keeper for as long as I can remember. I will write every few days, and then go for months without writing anything at all. Sometimes I like what I’ve written, other times I wish I would have not put certain thoughts down on paper.

My current journal spans over seven years. I only have a few blank pages left, and as the end of the book approaches, I’ve been asking myself how to proceed. Should I continue hand-writing them, or switch to a computer typed format?

I see good and bad to each scenario.

A hand written journal feels more personal. It’s a physical object you can hold in your hands as you read through your own history, or that of another.

There are a couple of reasons I don’t like hand writing my journal entries. I don’t like my handwriting. Sound like a silly reason? I think so too, but it can’t be helped. I really don’t like my handwriting. When I write fast, that handwriting gets even sloppier. I hate going back and re-reading it. I can’t focus on what the words say, only how the handwriting looks. The thought of someone else reading my scribbles nearly gives me nightmares.

The second reason I think would prefer a type written format, is that I can go back and edit. I’m not talking about months or years later, changing the story or anything. But there are so many times that I’ve started writing a sentence, and my thought process changes half way through, and I want to change what I’ve written. I hate crossed out words even more than I hate my handwriting.

As for type written? It’s less personal. I can eventually print it, but it lacks the hand-touched feel to it.

But type written eliminates both of my problems I’m currently dealing with. No worries about what my handwriting looks like, and I can edit.

Also, I think I would write more consistently if it were in the computer. I’m already here most days, emailing, blogging, and working on my manuscript. It might be an easier and more natural way to write my personal history too.

As the new year approaches, I see a perfect opportunity to make the switch, especially since my current journal is almost all used up.

So my question for all of you is:

Do you keep a journal, an if so, what method do you use?