CHECKING BOXES

✓Sent submission to Clarion Editor
I’ve spent innumerable hours working at polishing my SEMPS manuscript and finally sent it off today. Feels good. I do fear it needs more work, but at some point you just have to stop revising and submit. Today I made it to that point with this manuscript. When I opened my inbox to tackle the long list of emails I’ve let go to get it done, I found it bounced back because of a typo in the email address. Yikes! I could hardly press send the second time. What if I had typos in the manscript? What if the editor doesn’t understand it? What if he hates it? What if he loves it? My only sane option right now is to get back to writing so I opening the next manuscript on my list and going for it. NOW!

I PROMISE

Everyday I get up with such good intentions and before I know it the whole morning is gone. Maybe if I share my goals here, I’ll be more inclined to meet them. In December, I told my critique group I want to write for at least 10 hours every week in 2012. I do work on revisions or marketing at least that much, which is good, but not good enough. So now I’m promising myself I’ll spend at least 2 hours every weekday writing something new. Now I’ve put it in writing, I think I can really commit to it. Check back and see and please call me on it.

Chapter 7 Making a Bed

Due to popular demand I am again posting my NYNNies 09 writing project. This a very rough draft. The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 7
Making a Bed
The next morning when Mary Ellen woke up her head was not on her pillow. The pillow was on the floor. And her head was right near the middle of the bed, sideways. She rolled over right away and sure enough Gail was gone and her bed was made. The yellow chenille spread was almost perfectly smooth. Mary Ellen looked at her own bed. A jumble of sheets, blanket and a yellow chenille spread.
The spread had surprised Mary Ellen when she went to bed. She couldn’t figure out how it got there or where it came from. She didn’t ask anyone. Not even Gail. She somehow knew asking about things was not good behavior at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie’s house. She tried to be good but it wasn’t easy. There were so many things that were not good, it was practically impossible to be good. And very confusing.
But when Aunt Cassie showed her how to make the bed Mary Ellen had watched carefully. She was sure she could do it. First she picked the pillow up off the floor and tried to shake it, but it kept hitting the floor before it really shook. She tried to push the pillow all the way back into the case. It worked okay, but some of it popped right back out. She plumped it just like Aunt Cassie, but that only made more pillow pop out so she set it on the foot of the bed.
Smoothing the bottom sheet was way too hard. Her arms did not reach as far as Aunt Cassie. Mary Ellen did the best she could. By that time she really needed to use the bathroom. She wasn’t dressed. Her bed was not made. Maybe she could sneak through the living room, use the bathroom, and get back upstairs before anyone noticed.
She peeked out the bedroom door. No one was in the small hall between the two girls rooms, but she did notice more drawers in the wall. For a cabinet maker, Uncle Lloyd sure built a lot of drawers. She wondered for a moment if every room of the house had drawers in the walls, but the urge to go to the bathroom got worse. She peeked into Mae Ellen’s room and saw a perfectly smooth pink chenille spread – of course.
Tippy toeing down the stairs Mary Ellen was as quiet as a mouse. At the bottom the need to go got even worse, so she crossed her legs and hopped through the living room. In the bathroom she did everything as quiet as she could. She thought about not flushing the toilet, but she knew Mae Ellen would love to tattle about that. After she flushed, she stood perfectly still listening to hear if anyone came near the bathroom door. Not a sound. Except the door knob squeaked something awful when she went to sneak out. But no one came.
As she was tippy toeing back through the living room she suddenly heard the rustle of a newspaper. Just ten feet away sitting in his big chair Uncle Lloyd was reading the newspaper. Mary Ellen scampered to the stairs lickety split. She peeked through the banister to see if he’d heard her, but he just turned another page and went on reading. At the top of the stairs she was just about to let out a long sigh when Mae Ellen stepped out of her room.
“You’re not dressed.” Mae Ellen had a very snotty voice. “And your bed isn’t made. I’m telling.” Then she shoved past Mary Ellen almost knocking her down the stairs and ran to tell Aunt Cassie. Or worse yet maybe she would tell Uncle Lloyd! Mary Ellen froze a the top of the stairs listening. Finally she heard that snotty voice. It seemed very far away. Probably in the kitchen. It had to be too quiet to be coming from the living room. Mary Ellen cluthed her hands across her middle for another moment, but Uncle Lloyd did not come charging up the stairs. Letting go of the sigh she skidaddled into Gail’s room to tackle making the bed.
First she smoothed the bottom sheet a little more. A big wrinkle ran across the whole top, but no matter how hard she tried she could not get it smooth. She pulled up the sheet and sure enough it covered the wrinkle. Getting the sheet pulled up was a lot harder than it looked when aunt Cassie did it, but Mary Ellen did her best. The blanket was thicker so it was a little easier. Plus, it covered wrinkles better. The folded down part was crooked, but the yellow spread should cover that. Getting the spread smooth was impossible trying to reach the whole thing. She climbed up onto the bed smoothed it as she crawled backward to the end and off. That worked pretty good.
After pulling the spread up over her pillow, she stepped back and looked at the made bed. She could not figure out how to get the spread under the edge of the pillow and over the whole thing at the same time. Plus none of the corners were folded into triangles and the parts she tucked under the mattress did not stay like they should. She pulled the edge of the spread very slowly and then dropped it. A big part of the spread lay in aheap on the floor, but most of the top of it looked much smoother. She sighed and tippy toed out of the room shutting the door behind her. Maybe no one would notice.

MY YEAR OF PRECIOUS MOMENTS-HALLOWEEN

Halloween with Ashlynne and Treson brought back a lot of wonderful memories. Ashlynne got the hang of trick or treating right away. After all isn’t that what Halloween is all about? Isn’t it the time of year when otherwise intelligent and concerned parents spend quality time teaching their children to take candy from strangers? Well-taught, Ashy went right up to the first house and called out “trick-or-treat” and she remembered to say thank you almost every time. In fact, sometimes she said thank you instead of trick-or-treat.

Treson and Rosey were on the same page enjoying the running around, climbing up steps, and meeting other trick-or-treaters. Rosey got a dog treat from the first house we went to and even though she never got another one she expected one every time. Treson loved to watch candy being dropped into his pumpkin and of course wanted to eat it all immediately. His “cold” was a little better but Pa, who is so concerned about his breathing, carried him most of the time.

Now we have about 17 tons of candy all over the house. Rosey has eaten more than her share and on Saturday night Treson was a crazy man from all the sugar. Ashy loves having her pumpkin full of candy and especially loves to take it all out and line it up in rows on the floor. Which of course is just what Rosey is hoping for. Treson tries to copy his big sister and dumps his pumpkin full of candy onto the floor over and over again. Sometimes he wears the pumpkin as a hat, which gives us an opportunity to quote line from his favorite book, “Hey, Smudge, that’s not a hat!”

On Sunday morning, Ashlynne looked out the window and a tiny piece of blue sky and shouted, “Look, Mommy, it’s summer!” Poor little girl, how sad to come from sunny California to Chicagoland where the sun can hide for weeks on end.

By Sunday evening the candy consumption had taken it’s toll. Both Ashlynne and Treson had a meltdown at the same time. I tried to help, but only Mommy could appease either of them at all. Poor Terianne! Fortunately it was just about bedtime so somehow she managed to make them happy and get them into bed. That mommy amazes me all the time!

MY YEAR OF PRECIOUS MOMENTS - 2

It’s no surprise that when I decide to start writing about what’s going on in my house this year that the internet was down for hours and what I thought I’d posted yesterday was not there. That’s the way everything seems to go lately, but with Ashlynne, Treson and Rosey around it’s easy to see the humor pretty much all day long. (If only I’d remember that!) Like yesterday when we did our big grocery shopping for the month.
Ashlynne’s favorite shopping cart at our local grocery store looks like a big blue car. Blue being her current favorite color. So when we arrived I pull out the behemoth (it’s got to be at least 27 feet long and much wider than an ordinary cart- maneuvering it through the store is a challenge that takes considerable concentration and the design makes it almost impossible to see the riders) Terianne got the two little ones settled in the seat which thankfully has space for two and two steering wheels.
Within moments the real fun begins as Terianne and I concentrate on the list. Like I said it’s almost impossible to see the kids (unless I lean down and look through the back window of the cab, until the cart is full of course) so while I’m selecting apples and Terianne is getting other produce, Ashlynne is yelling, “Treson! Treson!” And of course he is climbing all over her in an attempt to get out the front where a windshield should be. Actually now that I have used that cart more than once I’m convinced it should be redesigned to include seat buckles even a one-year-old can not unclasp, doors that really lock and of course a real windshield. Sound proofing would be a great added touch.
So we continue up and down the aisles, Terianne involved with keeping the kids in the cart or at least walking nicely in the aisle without swiping a whole row of green beans off the bottom shelf (that’s a trick in Treson’s repertoire) I’m amazed at how she can actually find things on the list and keep the two from destroying the store. Treson has brought new meaning to the phrase “running amuck” no matter where we are. At one point Terianne had magically got them to ride along nicely for a while so I surged ahead. As I turned into a new aisle, Treson managed to bolt from the cart and over to a shelf of syrup. He snatched one off the shelf and charged off down the aisle! Since he can our run me it’s a good thing Terianne appeared and handled it.
When we finally got to the line at the register I foolishly focused on unloading the cart. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Treson and Ashlynne climbing a display of cases of pop. Since they were arranged just like stairs I can’t say I blamed them, and Ashlynne made it to the top in record time, I’m sure.

MY YEAR OF PRECIOUS MOMENTS

This morning I realized that I have been missing the opportunity to record some very precious memories. Don’t know what took me so long to figure this out - I guess I’ve been too busy. But lately I’ve found myself realizing what a unique and wonderful time this is in my life.
On July 17, 2009, my son-in-law Lieutenant Frank Anderson, USMC, left Camp Pendleton California for a year in Iraq. That was the day before his son’s first birthday. A few hours laer my husband, Rick and I arrived to celebrate but of course missed the big party that had been rescheduled. My daughter, Terianne, and their two children, Ashlynne almost three and Treson (actually FKA IV-son of the third) came to Illinois to live with Mema (that’s me) and Pa. The move and the first three months were a roller coaster of fun, frustrations, and adjustments. From my point of view we have now all settled into our new routines.
Some highlights: (pictures on Facebook)
August 3-9 ~ Sherilyn and Jocelyn visit (before Jocey’s second birthday so we could take advantage of the free airfare) for a week. The cousins love each other and Ashlynne was missing all her CA friends.
August 7 ~ All 7 of us made a day trip to Iowa for Caitlynn’s second birthday.
August 16 ~ My youngest son, Jeff came home from school in Texas to visit and pick up his car.
August 20-24 ~ Rick, Terianne, Ashlynn, Treson and I drove down to Tennessee for Jocey’s birthday.
September 2 ~ Princess Rosey our new Miniature Poodle puppy came to live with us.
September 18 ~ Uncle Don, Aunt Shero, and Jocey came up here for Ashy’s third birthday. Don flew out of Chicago on Monday for work.
September 24 ~ Sherilyn, Jocey and I drove down to Tennessee so I could attend the SCBWI Midsouth conference September 25-27. I flew home on Monday.
Also during this time Uncle Ritch and Aunt Laura who live near us have visited many times, I attended a four week class at OCWW (only had to miss one class) and we all dealt with a bogus guarantee for our washing machine which meant going for over a month without a washing machine. Oh, and did I mention that my suitcase was lost on our flight from CA to IL for a week. And Terianne has started school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we all go to Awana on Wednesdays, and Terianne has been teaching a few workout classes. So now I can see why I haven’t had time to write about all this. Right now Terianne and Treson are at Ashlynne’s weekly ballet class and the house was so empty I realized I should use this time to blog. This morning Terianne left before six am to teach a class and I enjoyed time with Ashlynne. She was in Terianne’s bed and the moment she opened her eyes she spotted a tube of lip gloss in a wire basket in the closet. Lip gloss is one of her favorite things so she jumped up and claimed it immediately.
Life is certainly precious these days and if I can just get Rosey house trained I think it will be just about perfect!

LET’S CALL THEM PRATS

I have to digress from Mary Ellen today. My cousin's cousin just acquired a pet rat and I wanted to share this story with her. It is actually an assignment for ICL that I wrote last year.
So, Traci Here's some backup for your opinion on rats. Hope your enjoy.

LET’S CALL THEM PRATS

Screams, squeals, and fear. That’s what you’ll get if you tell someone you have a pet rat. But rat lovers will insist that rats are the best rodent pet you can have and that includes hamsters, gerbils, and even bunnies. What would make anyone think such a thing? Maybe most people think rats are nasty, because they confuse pet rats with wild rats.
Most pet rats are descended from Norway Rats that are not from Norway at all. They originated in Asia. Pet rats are often called fancy rats. If you've ever held a baby rat, you would see they are quite cute. They are curious and interested in everything around them – mostly you. Baby rats are soft and their tails are pink and will curl around your finger. Rats cannot see as well as you can. Their whiskers, which are very tickley, help them know where they are.
People often think pet rats are just like wild rats. So, there are two things about rats that everyone might not agree on. One; rats are dangerous. Wild rats may carry diseases, but a pet rat is no more likely to make you sick than any other pet. Since rats are more intelligent, they are less likely to bite. A healthy pet rat will only resort to biting if they are handled roughly or when they are protecting their babies. If someone doesn't know how to be gentle with your pet rat, it will usually squeal and try to get away before biting.
Two; people often think rats are dirty and smell bad. Wild rats live in dirty places and eat garbage. But you might be surprised to know that, unlike cute little bunnies, a rat's droppings are practically odorless. Most pet rats will use only one corner of their cage as their toilet. So if you bury you nose in a pet rat's fur (whose cage is cleaned regularly) it's almost impossible to smell anything. That's probably because rats also bathe themselves, the same way as cats do, several times a day.
Even though many people do not like rats, everyone would agree on at least two things about all rats. The first thing; rats are very intelligent. A rat's superior mental abilities make them good pets in several ways. Unlike hamsters and gerbils, a rat will not spend its entire life as your pet trying to get out of its cage. And when a rat is out of its cage, it won't immediately dart away from a good owner.
A pet rat will even recognize its owner and make it clear he wants to get out of the cage to spend time with you. Because they are social animals, a pet rat will actually make eye contact with you - on purpose. Most pet rats love to sit on anyone's shoulder. And even though rats are nocturnal, which means they usually sleep at night, they are smart enough to realize it’s more fun to be awake when their owners are around to play with them. They quickly learn to sleep when they are left alone.
The second thing is that rats are readily available. Rats can multiply very quickly. Male rats are called bucks and a female rat is called a doe. A pair of rats can have a new litter of up to 12 babies, called kittens, every three months.
Almost any pet shop sells rats. But many of them are bred to be sold as snake food. So, you might prefer to check out a rat breeder for your pet rat, since they are more careful to promote healthy pets. Even rats sold by a rat breeder are inexpensive compared to the price of other exotic pets. A rat is considered an exotic pet, because not everyone would want to own one.
While it seems that many people don't know that pet rats are very different from wild rats, Teddy Roosevelt, the twenty-sixth president of the United States, must have known. He kept pet rats in the White House. Beatrix Potter, the author of the Peter Rabbit stories, had a white rat named Sammy. Also, in the United Kingdom, British people who love rats are promoting the fourth of April as World Rat Day, a chance for rat owners to celebrate their pets.
Rat lovers care about pet rats so much they've started clubs for rat owners. Some of these groups even have exhibitions to judge the quality of their rats. They have high standards for the pet rat's health, size, and even the length and shape of their tails.
The National Rat Societies, The Rat Society of America, and The Rat Fan Club, are just a few of the groups formed to promote rats as pets. You can find other rat organizations online or listed in books about pet rats. They all have information about rats as excellent pets.
A group of rats is called a mischief. With a name like that it's easy to see that pet rats can be wonderful and a lot of fun. Maybe if we give pet rats a new name, everyone will remember the difference between wild rats and loveable pet rats. So, let's start calling pet rats, Prats!
The end