by Tammi Sauer I am a huge fan of Storystorm (formerly known as PiBoIdMo). Many of my books started right here! YOUR ALIEN, my book with Goro Fujita, for example, first appeared on my 2012 PiBoIdMo…
Source: Storystorm Day 4: “What’s the Big Idea? Ask the Big Question!” by Tammi Sauer
Oh, this is good stuff, writers! Beautiful strategy for getting those ideas and storylines flowing! Thanks, Tammi (and Tara)!
by Josh Funk Yesterday, Tara told us to be mindful and also to daydream. Mindfulness and daydreaming may seem like opposites; pay close attention to the world…and pay attention to only what’s…
Source: Storystorm Day 3: “Eye Loaf Otter Car Wrecks” by Josh Funk
This great post by Josh Funk encourages us to salvage those autocorrect disasters and mine them for future writing projects! Way to go, Josh!
The American Library in Paris is offering English- speaking writers of any nationality the opportunity to work in Paris for a month or longer with a Visiting Fellowship. Writers should be working o…
Source: Get paid to write in Paris …sweet dreams are made of this…
Oh, how much fun this would be! Anyone care to join me? Sigh…
The sweater of a thousand photos joins me as I corral and snuggle our 5 grands!
New beginnings.
January always brings fresh hope and promises of renewed dreams, goals, plans.
View the sweater of a thousand photos.
This wardrobe piece awaits my beck and call all hours of the day and night. Menopause requires layers. And this, my Goodwill find from years past, is perfect. Cold? Snuggle in this button-up baby. Hot? Fling it across the room without any answering complaints. Fold it. Wad it. Wash it. Toss it. Wear it. Love and hate it.
From my viewpoint, the sweater of a thousand photos matches every item of clothing I own. Because I wear it with any and every thing. Coordinating or not.
As evidenced by photos. At least 1,000 of them.
Life in the RV has finally taken its toll. Laundry facilities are stranded across compacted snow and ice trails inside the stick house of our son and his family. Sometimes one forgets to empty the dryer on time. Usually that is ok. But just this once, it was not.
For the sweater of a thousand photos has been damaged. Heated too long and too hot. The yarns melted into permanent wrinkles. Never before static cling haunts attempts at layering. What once was fuzz and softness is now thin and bare. The sweater of a thousand photos, MY sweater, the $2 deal, is nearing the end.
My heart is sad but realizing the futility of wearing holes and wrinkles held together with bits of yarn. It is time to move on. Let it go. Wave a fond farewell, not looking back.
Unless it is in photos.
New beginnings come in different forms. Out with the old, in with the new. Or maybe new-to-me.
The hunt has begun. This year, I resolve to capture the next sweater of a thousand photos. The search will be in reverse order, according to hunting aficionados, but this works well for clothing.
Hunt. Bag. Shoot.
What will you be hunting this year?
Storystorm! A month of brainstorming, learning, making friends, writing – all centered on picture books. Come on, writers, let’s go!
by Tara Lazar Amidst the chaos and confusion of the past year, a Zen movement gathered steam, gently simmering in the background of our harried lives and minds. You may have noticed—albeit fleeting…
Source: Storystorm Day 2: “To Mind or Not to Mind” by Tara Lazar
My January writing activities include Storystorm! Thanks, Tara Lazar!
by Guest: Deb Lund
I’ve been restless lately. Uncertain. Wondering what to work on next, but not taking action. Growing up in northern Minnesota, the outward version of that was an approaching storm—…
Source: Storystorm Day 1: “The Calm Before the Storm” by Deb Lund
wafts of spice tickle
quivering noses and tongues
gingerbread delight
~ Angie Quantrell
There is most decidedly a reason that gingerbread has become synonomous with Christmas.
The scent.
The fragrance of warm spices, the steam of a hot oven, the soft melting of toasted cookies melting in your mouth…
Welcome, gingerbread. Welcome, Christmas.
I just completed stocking number 5. Or 11, depending on how far back you want to go.
Autumn, the youngest grand princess, wore her Christmas stocking just in the nick of time, since all other stockings are hung by the chimney with care, and mommy and daddy were patiently waiting for Nana to finish sewing for the fourth family member.
Christmas is a very short time away, right?
Making Christmas stockings became a tradition as soon and my honey and I were married. I strip-pieced matching stockings for both of us about 31 years ago. They have been used every year, except this one, when they are hiding in storage. And maybe next year, which will most likely be the same.
After each of our two children were born, I made them giant strip-pieced stockings. Somewhere (again, in the storage unit) are pictures of them wearing their stockings. As adults, Taylor and Chelsie both have their stockings in their own homes. Spouses (and child-of-our-hearts) received their own stocking. All that was missing were the baby pictures in stockings, but, well, they are just too big to wear them!
Jump forward to the next generation of grands.
First came Hayden, our 4-wheelin’ boy. Nana got busy right away to make him a stocking.
Next came Khloe, Princess of the Blue Eyes. Nana stitched and sewed to get her set for Christmas.
Donavyn, the brown-eyed ducky boy, came next. Here he is wearing his stocking beside his baby sister. He barely fits!
Gage, little wild man, made his appearance over a year ago. Nana dusted off the sewing machine and created his stocking.
And finally, Autumn. Last winter, when I was making Gage’s stocking, I cut out the base for another stocking, since we knew grand number 5 was on the way. Good thing for me, as we didn’t know we would soon be shoving all of our belongings into a tiny storage unit. When my Christmas senses kicked in, all I had to do was pull out the trunk with my fabric, dig out the stocking base and Christmas fabric, and I was reading to sew.
Stocking number 5. Or 11, depending on where you want to start counting. For us, it all began 31 years ago.
Dear Kitties,
I know it’s cold in the RV. In fact, sometimes it’s Jack Frost icy. I realize that furry coats don’t always do the job in the warm-me-up department. I even acknowledge that though there are only 2 of you (and you are sisters from the SAME litter), touching each other often causes undo excitement, hissy fits, and flying bits of gray fluff.
We have a queen bed. In the RV. Crammed into a tiny alcove. Six-foot two-inch hubby requires most of the square footage available on said bed. That leaves me a tiny sliver, I’d even say the edge is my only slumber real estate.
I know we have an electric blanket. I admit to enjoying the toasty slide into pre-warmed sheets. The heater ducts blow comfortably hot air into our bedroom. This makes our room the most desirable location during long winter nights.
It also makes me be squished.
Sliver of bed. Closet alcove for darkness naps. Tall husband. Two cats.
Kitties. I have short legs. But even then, when you are both snuggled and sleeping like furry gray rocks along the bottom of the bed, I am left with nowhere to put my feet.
Out of the covers? Brrrr. Between you? This is one event where you allow yourselves to touch, even become glued together with your sibling. Beneath you? Your elephanty weight belies your small stature. Against the hubby? Uhm, his long legs leave no room. Up against your warm bodies it is then.
A ball. You will find me rolled on my side up near the outer wall of the RV. Sushi roll style, head wedged against the “dresser,” shoulders along the “headboard,” hands and knees tucked into the middle like bits of julienned carrots and radishes. The seaweed wrap of electric blanket coccooning me. And there the sushi mama roll will stay all night, on her less than 1/4 of the bed area.
You, my kitties, will have plenty of sleeping room. Purring contentedly, stretching at ease, lengthening and contracting with the rise and fall of space and temperatures.
Thanks for keeping us company and for blanketing our bed with your heat and snuggles. I don’t mind sharing with you. Not a bit.
Sleep well, feline foot warmers.
The Sushi Kitty Mama
Christmas was an important event for Christians in medieval Europe. Not just celebrated around December 25th, it began with the advent season at the end of November and continued through Epiphany o…
Source: Medieval Monday: Advent–the days before Christmas
Here is a little medieval history about advent and Christmas. I loved reading it and comparing the now and then traditions we observe during Christmas. A special ending comes in the form of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” played on a medieval Scottish harp!
Merry Christmas!
Love, Laughter, and Life 