BarbsWriteTree

Name:
Location: San Marcos, California, United States

Southern gal living in California. Have been writing since the age of ten and am addicted to the written word. Have stacks of books-to-be-read in almost every room. I teach writing on a volunteer basis and in a paid position. I once worked with foreign customers for an aerospace company; interesting job that gave me great insight into other cultures. Family scattered all over the US so have excuses to travel.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

WHEN YOU STUMBLE

When you stumble, make it part of the dance.

No one knows who the author of this quote was but what a powerful message it conveys. All of us find a pebble in our shoe, or a rock on our path as we walk through life. Some have more ups and downs, joys or tragedies, than others. But how we handle the obstacles is the life we present to the world.

My life was not perfect--especially after I married "the jerk." That was a stumble. When it was all over, family and friends were astonished at how well I had hidden the mental and physical abuse. Divorce, at first seemed like a big stumble, but finally walking away was the right thing to do. As scared as I was to suddenly be the sole support of myself and two children, being able to do this was the first steps in a new dance.

Years later, marrying Ray, I wondered if I was about to stumble again. Instead, over the past thirty-three years, I have danced--slow romantic waltzes, hilarious wild polkas, sometimes stomping teeth-gritting marches. But we somehow have managed to end the day with a soothing two-step.

Lost job. Argument with an old friend. Romance gone sour. Children gone astray. Failed a class.

In the scope of your life, these events are only stumbles.

New career. Making new friends. Finding God's saving graces. Meeting the love of your life. Walking down the aisle. Congratulating a child's success. Getting your college degree.

What a wonderful life when you accept that you, with God's guidance, can meet these challenges. It is you who can pick the tune and the steps to the greatest dance.

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Thursday, October 21, 2010

MY GARNET RING

I was born in January. My birthstone is the deep red garnet. I wasn't always happy with this stone. As a youth, I felt it was too old-fashioned. After all, Victorian ladies wore this stone and I didn't want to look anything like these large-breasted women adored with jewelry loaded with this red stone.

I was the eldest of five children in a middle-class family where there was no extra money for jewelry, even if I had wanted to wear that stone. So,as a teenager,I was surprised with the gift of a garnet ring set in gold--a gift from my mother on a day that wasn't my birthday or Christmas. I wore it with pride until the day I struck it with the drum sticks of my snare drum during a wild drum session, and chipped out a chunk of the stone.

I was heartsick but continued to wear it for years in spite of the chip. Somewhere along the way of adulthood, the stone fell out of the setting and the ring was no more. But I was in for a huge surprise when mama died. In her possessions, I found an old diary, one from her teenage years. She had received the ring as a gift on her sixteenth birthday from a boyfriend--and it wasn't my daddy.

Prompt: "When you stumble, make it part of the dance." (Author Unknown)

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Tuesday, October 19, 2010

BOOKS, BOOKS, AND MORE BOOKS

"I cannot live without books." (Thomas Jefferson)

Writers should read a lot of books in order to understand how it's done. That's what I've always read and been told. So I follow the rules: I read, and read, and read. And I have a collection of books to prove I love it.

I'm reading "Live to Tell" by Lisa Gardner and it is creeping me out. It's also an unusual way of writing, one instructors tell us we are not to do unless we are very experienced: the author writes the tale in two other character's voices every other chapter. I haven't decided yet whether it adds or distracts from the telling of the story.

"7th Heaven" by James Patterson is waiting for me to read next. I love this author and am a little disappointed that he is now writing with partners. It reminds me of the painter who has other artists lined up, each one doing a small part of the paintings and then he comes along and signs his name.

I have kept some old favorites, too:

"Blue Highways" by William Least Heat-Moon.
"Bella Tuscany" by Frances Mayes.
"At the Owl Woman Saloon" by Tess Gallagher.

I love mysteries and found Carl Hiassen through exchanging books with a friend. He writes these humorous mysteries set in Florida. Then I found his books written for younger readers (I dare not say what age because kids read way beyond their years today --sort of like I did when young). "Scat," "Hoot", and "Flesh" are these books.

Two of my all time "women" books are: "Sisters of the Earth" edited by Lorraine Anderson and "Secrets of the Zona Rosa" by Rosemary Danniell.

"Grace" by Alexandra Stoddard has been beside me since first published.

And then there are a hundred or so books related to creative writing, poetry books, inspirational books, cookbooks--and all those stacks plus shelves of fiction.

Read everyone. Read in the genre you want to write in, and many in different areas too. Then write your heart out with all the ideas you'll get from all that reading.

Prompt: Write about a ring that was/is special to you.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

BANGLES & BEADS: JUNK JEWELRY

Diamonds are a girl's best friend, or so they've said in song and movies. I don't happen to agree. Not that I don't own some of the authentic "bling" but it's not me. I think it looks great on the ears, necks and fingers of most other women but I'm just a country girl with the same kind of taste. My favorite jewelry is turquoise set in silver and---junk jewelry.

No, I don't make my own. But I do own some thanks to my neighbor's daughter who made me lovely necklaces with earrings to match as a gift. I assist her mom who lives across the street from me (daughter is in Seattle)when she is feeling poorly, needs to be driven to a doctor's appointment, or just needs a friend to talk to. I don't have the patience to string beads and crystals on thread and thin wire, but I so appreciate what the creators do.

I don't know in which country this craze for cheap bangles and beads surfaced. It might have been all those years ago in Costa Rica when hubby purchased the long necklace of fake pearls, pink stones, and purple crystals so beautifully strung together they were hard for him to resist. Or it could have been the hematite from Turkey, Alaska or Mexico. One of my favorite such pieces has an elephant dangling from it; we were in Jamaica and I turned down the offer of purchase because the bus was loading. When the bus driver failed to appear on time, hubby bounded off the bus, ran around the corner, and made the four dollar purchase.

Italy offered Murano glass, cameo and enameled harlequin's in all styles of jewelry. Hong Kong dressed my bosom in jade rock of several shades of green. Panama allowed me to don brown seeds, sparkly blue and green crystals, and wooden jewelry, made by bare-breasted women and sold by their husbands.

Recently, I'm in to the cheap chunks of plastic from China that is all the rage these days. I'm purchasing all colors of the rainbow. It's fun jewelry. It's funky. It keeps me young and enthusiastic.

It's REALLY junk jewelry.

Prompt: Quote: "I cannot live without books." (Thomas Jefferson)

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Friday, October 15, 2010

Satchel Paige

"How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?" (Satchel Paige)

I agree with Satchel. The number of candles on my cake don't bother me. I feel I am too active, involved in my community, volunteering in several teaching-writing classes, contract teaching, traveling all over the world,gardening, and enjoying my home life, to get bored, stagnent, or old.

I don't want to dwell on how many years I have left. I enjoy looking back sometimes--acknowledging all the fun and great things I have done, been involved in, seen. I never look at the negatives as that would just be depressing--and there's not a darned thing I can do to rectify my past mistakes.

I don't like the wrinkles or the sagging chin or the other changes in my body. But I certainly am not about to go under the knife to look young again. Besides, I'm often told I have a great smile that I bestow on everyone--so I tell everyone these are smile and laughter lines.

I agree with Satchel Paige and I have planned to disgregard the date on my driver's license or passport. I'm going to fill each day with life and joy. And I'm going to dance right up to the Pearly Gates.

So, how old are you?
***

Prompt: Junk Jewelry

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Oops & Housework

I apologize, readers, for not including the prompt for last night. If I fail to give you on, and you want to continue writing, grab an idea out of your own muse. Or pick an object in your home to write about. The prompt last night was: housework.
***

Dust bunnies have found a home beneath my bed. Spiders freely weave their lacy webs high in the corners of my rooms. If unexpected guests drive up, I shove the clutter under the sofa, open closet doors to shovel it in, and hope no one wants tl sit a the dining room table which hides the basket of unfolded laundry. Why do I do this? If there's one thing I have come to abhor in my old age, it's housework.

I want to be at my computer writing. Or in the garden pulling weeds, trimming, or gathering a bouquet. Walking to Jack's Pond with my camera in hand makes me happy--and beats scrubbing toilets any day. Cooking and baking give me a certain fulfillment. Cleaning house puts me in a dark mood.

It must have begun in my early childhood, this aversion for household chores. I was the eldest of five children and, as such, babysat, washed dishes, helped with the enormous Monday wash using an old wringer-type machine, learned to cook standing on a stool, and lost part of my childhood buried in responsibility.

Southern women (girls) in my time were reared from the cradle to the grave to be wives and mothers, and to be subservient to men. Good women were satisfied with that. They shouldn't long for college or think of a career. That was the future planned for me which meant I would be tied to the kitchen, the family, church, and my husband's best interests for a lifetime. That meant housework forever.

It didn't quite work out that way because I was an avorous reader and figured out there was a different world out there for women who dared step out of the picture frame of Southern womanhood. I attended college. I had a career. I bore two children. Of course, I still did the housework.

Today, I am lucky. The kids are raised and gone. I long ago got rid of the Southern redneck and married my soul mate over thirty-three years ago. He could care less about dust bunnies and wheels the vacuum cleaner around with gay abandonment. We forget about the dishes and go for a walk. We've been known to vacation for a month and let the weeds take over the flower garden. My sweetie allows me to put housework way back on the burner.

It's only guilt or guests that pull me back in line--where I discover the house really doesn't look too bad after all. My imagination runneth over, especially when following a prompt.
***

Prompt: Quote: "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?" (Satchel Paige)

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Wednesday, October 13, 2010

WHAT MUSIC DO YOU ENJOY?

George Jones was a disk jockey on a radio station in Bay City, Texas, when I was still in grade school. A struggling country western singer appearing at little-known honky tonks, he would become a star within five years. Since Mama loved country-western music, it was my first love. On second thought, I think I remember the old hymns in the local Baptist church as the first music I sang along with.

When I was a teenager, singers like Chubby Checker (The Twist was all the rage at dances), Fats Domino, and Elvis were the singers I followed. When Elvis appeared on television the first time, Daddy walked over and turned him off! Mama soothed my ruffled feathers by purchasing his latest album and allowed me to (almost) wear our her stereo. And my friends were so amazed when she hummed along with Fats Domino and turned up the volume on Paul Anka. During this period I also played in the high school band which introduced me to Sousa marches (which still stir me) and classical music (which I use to lower stress when it creeps in).

I enjoyed the Beatles, even some of the songs by the Rolling Stones. I was never into my kid's music in the '70's--who can even remember who they were listening to? I was working six days a week to support us after my divorce, so maybe I never had time to pay any attention to what they enjoyed.

When Ray and I married, we danced to late 1970's music and sought out places that were bringing back the Big Band era music. He was astounded that I could sing the words to all those tunes, some of which were popular years before I was born (Mama's taste again). He is also of German ancestry so I was introduced to Haufbrau's with live music and exuberant dancing.

Today, I simply consider myself a music lover. We have a huge music collection of music--all kinds of music. Our home is filled with music at all hours; night only is TV time. Mexican, Italian, Country Music, German, Big Band, 1950-60-70-80 (forget the '90's and today for the most part), Patriotic, Cajun and, for me only,jazz.

A favorite music? Much too difficult to decide.

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Tuesday, October 12, 2010

No Man is An Island...

What does this quote mean to you?

I personally think it means that, as humans, we cannot be living for ourselves alone. Whatever we choose to do affects others around us. There is no way we can be so selfish, want only what we want, forget what's the best for our family, neighborhood, or the world, and go after it.

But, I am sure you, as I, have run across people who could care less what the acting out of their desires does to others. You see it in Hollywood--stars who drink, drug, commit other infractions of the law--and are in such demand, put on such a pedestal, that they seldom suffer any consequences for their actions. I could care less what happens to them personally; if the headlines one of these days are that they died of a drug overdose, or alcohol poisoning, or such, I can only pray that God will take mercy on their souls. I am concerned, however, about the fact that they are seen as role models for their siblings and for hundreds, if not thousands, of "groupies or fans" who desire to be just like them.

Once someone in my life thought he was so special that everything he couldn't get, each job he lost, every failure he had, was someone else's fault. He ignored his family, spent his paycheck on his pleasures,, and still bragged about "all I did for my family." For years, he bemoaned the fact that his family never showed him any appreciation when he came home penniless, drunk, or smelling of cheap perfume.

He found out he wasn't an island. He lost his family before he killed his wife, or his children were beaten. He died twenty years later, broke, a drunk, alone, issolated in a foreign country; the end of his selfish life was mourned by few.

If we want respect, seek to be content in our place in life, happy in the knowledge we love and are loved, and have given our hearts to the beauty of the world around us, we have built a life that creates bridges to all the islands. And we will find they are
***

Prompt: What music do you enjoy? Why? Share a memory of the time music enfluenced you, your life, or connected you to someone you'll never forget.

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Monday, October 11, 2010

ALASKA CALLED/MUSE NOT SO HAPPY

We've been to Alaska--for the third time. But this trip we took the train to Denali. It was the most wonderful trip we have ever had. If you want a wonderful sea/land trip, log on to HollandAmerica.com and check them out. Is this a promotion--yes, it is. I don't make a dime out of it but I want everyone to have as wonderful a time as we had. Wait until next May or June though--Denali Park is closed for the winter. LOL

Since I've returned, I've managed to write some poetry--had three accepted for a new anthology so guess I didn't leave my muse behind--two of them were written while on our trip.

But I've been moping around since I returned when it comes to my writing. I don't feel I have true writer's block as I am still writing, but I am having a serious problem with focusing on something concrete, something written well enough to consider submitting. I manage to submit poetry, a children's picture book, but want to do more. (Overachiever, huh?)My head is filled with all these neat ideas and I can't settle on which one I want to write about.

So I've decided to take a clue from the creative writing classes I teach. Each week I offer them a prompt to write from--in case they can't focus and create ideas of their very own, or aren't involved in an on-going work-in-progress. For the next few times I appear here, I'm going to use a prompt to write from--a beginning line, a quote, dialogue, a topic, whatever.

Want to write along with me? I'll offer the next prompt at the end of each blog.

Tomorrow's prompt: Quote: No man is an island...

See you tomorrow, fans.

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