LATE SUMMER--AUNT LUTIE WILL BE COOKIN'

My editor, Regina (Gina) Williams, is filled with encouragement and enthusiasm. She gave me such a boost when she said she couldn't put Aunt Lutie down and had to get some sleep. (I noted she emailed at 12:54 in the morning.) Then she did something so unheard of, so honest, that I am stunned. She said she felt the book was so good it would probably be picked up by a New York agent, her agent.

I didn't hesitate a moment. I picked up the phone this morning and called her. I assured her that I did not want her to submit this to a New York agent. I have been down that road and you look at a lot of heart-burn, heartache, and disappointment. Words are so cheap--"Send the whole manuscript" is so easy to say. Keeping it for six months is easy, too. And mailing out that form rejection, no comment, no hint of help, must be the easiest of all. So no, I don't want this book, especially if it is as good as my editor thinks, to go to another publisher.

I hope this book does sell like we both want it to. I hope Mockingbird Lane Press makes real money off this book. They want to build a good reputation for the quality of their books and I want them to do just that for all the authors they choose to publish. I know the attention they have already given my book is a good indication of how they will treat all writers. If you want a caring publisher/editor, check them out.

And, yes, I am promoting my publisher. And, no, I don't own any stock in this company!

www.mockingbirdlanepress.com

"Aunt Lutie's Blue Moon Cafe" will be out in late summer. You will hear me tooting my horn loudly about this book when the time comes.

NEED FOR A DOSE OF COURAGE

"Often the test of courage is to live. Anyone can die."  (Vittorio Alfieri)

After my blogging about stress on Wednesday, I'm feeling a bit apologetic tonight.

Yes, I do get stressed--as do all of you from time to time. I take some things--injustice, budgets, and political lies--too seriously. And a lot of this pressure I bring on myself because I can't seem to merely shrug it off and get on with my life. My husband tries to remind me that at times no one else is worrying about the same thing that's keeping me awake, or cares a fig about the future--that I am too old to carry the burdens of the world, government, or people on my shoulder.

So, as the quote says, maybe I need a little dose of courage--to live a worry-stress-free life, to enjoy each day for what it offers, to love life, to appreciate my husband and family to the fullest, and to live what I have left of life to the very fullest--thanking God each day for the many blessings He has bestowed on me, including the ability to laugh, love, and be happy.

So today and every day hereafter, I'm praying for serenity and for acceptance of the give-and-take of a truly blessed life. I'm not sure He will grant me such requests or will allow me to stew in my own worrisome juices. But I'm looking forward to seriously attempting to live courageously and seek out each beautiful touch of the world around me--even on a rainy Saturday in California.

TODAY IS/WAS A DOOZY

This day began with a slow steady rain which is always music to the ears of we water-thirsty residents of Southern California. It's still below normal in temperatures and the weather lady said tonight we can expect that, plus the rain, to continue through the weekend. I don't care (except for the fact that my friend is having a moving sale that I've been helping her price "treasures" for on Saturday)--the soft sound of a soaking rain is beautiful music.

Sometimes I wonder why I feel stressed. Then I look at some of one day's happenings. For example, I teach/lead a creative writing class that used to be free. But due to struggling cities, for the past two years we have been charged "rent" on the room we use in a Senior Center (all seniors in this class). That means that everyone, even the instructor, pays a fee for each class they attend. At the end of the month I write a check to the City for that rent. For the past month, I've had a person attend who is on "assistance" and told me today that he knows he's three weeks behind in his fee payment but he has no funds. On top of that, he brought one of his friends to attend who is in the same boat.

It is not fair to those of us who pay each week to have members who do not. I feel compassion for those of our fellowman who are "down on their luck" whether by their own actions or other reasons. However, I felt I needed to discuss this with management as it was affecting class members (who noticed he wasn't paying and let me know they knew--did I use the word stress?). Thankfully, management will handle this problem. No stress here, right?

I see that George Zimmerman has been charged with 2nd degree murder in the shooting of Trayvon Martin--an unarmed 17-year old who went to a convenience store to purchase a package of Skittles candy--and was such a harm to this man armed with a 9MM weapon that he deserved to be murdered.
Georgie claims innosence under Florida's Stand Your Ground Law, perpetuated by the NRA who wants every state to legalize vigilante justice. I don't know, especially in that white-redneck Florida (and I can say that with authority having lived there for many years!), whether he will be convicted. Or will it ever get to trial? I can't allow myself to get stressed over this, but that doesn't mean I don't care!

Interesting item on TV about those of us who find it impossible, more nights than not, to sleep through eight hours. Long studies have been conducted and the findings are troublesome. It seems that we who do not sleep well are more susceptable to diabetes and our metabalism drops to next to zero--and an average gain of 12 unwanted pounds of weight. On top of everything else going on today, that causes some stress.

Our HOA events: A shortfall in the budget due to the prior Board screwing up the budget this Board has to operate with. Possibility of continued legal movement against a resident by another resident.
Why would I be stressed when faced with assessments and Superior Court?

Did you know there are 78-81 Communists (Democrats, of course--ala, Sarah Palin's pick for VP this year), Obama has created a new religion called Secularism in the United States, and Newt is going to become the true Republican nominee in August? All these political lies, pointing of fingers, and thumping of chests REALLY stresses me out!

And, least I forget, the publisher of Aunt Lutie's Blue Moon Cafe is struggling with the formatting of the transmitted manuscript.

Did I mention stress?

The Conspirators

While on our cruise we saw the movie, "The Conspirators," about the assination of Abraham Lincoln and the hanging of Mary Sarratt, among others. It was a thought provoking movie; I'm not sure that all the questions about this woman were, or ever will be, answered. But thinking of the times and the fact that this was not the only American president assassinated, I wrote this poem. I was present, via TV, when the last one occurred. In fact, I had stood on a street in Houston, Texas, the day before and saw this young looking, tanned, president as he passed by me, climbed into the back of a convertible, and rode off, waving and smiling, on his way to the hotel to spend the night before he headed for Dallas.

Mary and Jackie

Mary was dressed fashionably
Was it pink like Jackie?
She sat beside her husband
In the theater box, enjoying a play,
Jackie sat beside her husband
In a car, enjoying the crowds,
Did Mary hear the applause that night
As Jackie heard on that sunny day?

At the sound of the shot
Husbands slumped, wives,
Reached out, seeking help,
Mary was removed from the room by doctors
Jackie clung to his hand as
He was pronounced dead.
Does anyone know if a president's blood
Splattered Mary's gown as it did Jackie's suit?

What we do know is this--
Both wives followed the caisson
Bearing assassinated presidents,
One to Illinois, the other to Arlington,
Both women, veiled, clad in blue-black widow's silk.
Veiled, we can only surmise, so the world
Could not see their hatred for the hypocrites
Among those standing along the way.

A BIG-ASS COOKBOOK

Or how to cook your husband's goose?

Can you believe I have gone all these years and never read the most Southern of contemporary authors, Jill Conner Browne, of "The Sweet Potato Queen" fame? I picked up her cookbook and it is funnier than heck; well worth the buck I paid for it at The Friends of the Library bookstore. It is certainly light enough that it soothes my overtaxed "rewrite" brain.

One story she shares is about one of the Potato Queen's dilemma with laundry as a newly wed. It seems her husband didn't know what the laundry hamper was for, dumped his clothes on the floor, and did not take instructions well at all. She made the decision not to wash his clothes; in fact, she put them away in closet and dresser--dirty. Her mother-in-law finally noticed and pulled the bride aside, offering to teach her how to do laundry as her precious son was going around with stains on his clothes.

The bride assured her mother-in-law that she knew how to do laundry; in fact, she showed her that she washed all the dirty clothes in the hamper. Whether mother dear spoke to her precious son, or he finally ran out of clothes entirely, we don't know. But today he not only does the laundry, he helps her with other household chores.

Then there's the guy who dumped his wife and kids to move in with a younger version of what his darling once looked like. He had the nerve to call her up one day, tell her he wanted his pickup truck and his clothes to be delivered to the girlfriend's home. And, on the way, she could wash the truck.

The wifey obliged him so sweetly. She moved his clothes out of the closet, leaving them neatly on the hangers, placed them in the truck bed, piled the kids in the cab, and drove the truck through the drive-through car wash. Well, she did everything he demanded, didn't she?

Great book!  Good lessons. I think the guys should read this one.

FOGGY BRAIN

Wednesday's are my busiest day of the week. I teach a class, run errands, do grocery shopping, and then come home to work on the books for that class and consider what I will teach next week. If that's not enough, I am beginning work on the purchasing of new carpet/vinyl for our Clubhouse. And...I am still working on rewrites/edits for my accepted book.

Is it any wonder that I have nothing else to say to you all tonight!

POETRY SUNDAY

"Each soul must meet the morning sun, the new, sweet earth, and the Great Silence alone!
                                                       Ohiyesa (1858-1939)

It was a great gathering of twenty-two. The guest poets were wonderful though one took much too much time. I do enjoy her poetry but the other poet needed his time to wow us with his "protest" poetry. A bit "salty" for some taste, I heard later, but I am pretty open-minded and feel as co-host of these gatherings I need to understand that everyone should be free to write their "thing." As I tell my class, if someone begins to read something you are not comfortable with, you are perfectly free to walk out.

The quote above could be said for most any day around here. It's been sunny pretty early in the morning these last few days (the fog has hugged the coast). Each one of us must meet the day in our own way. I chose to open up my soul, make it ready to accept the beauty for whatever the time, or weather, or situation directs.

I miss our wraparound porch for one reason--I could go out, early morning, even during the night, and sit in silence while soaking up the pristine beauty of another day God has graced me with. At my age, it is a blessing to feel filled with the spirit of life. On my porch I would carry my coffee cup out, sit at our table, and the rising sun would soon warm my face--or back. I must see if the garden bench and small table can create the same comfort zone--a place where I have been known to write some awesome poetry already.

Poetry, sunshine, an open soul--what more could anyone ask for?