frazzled & frumpy

She's a temperamental woman, that Mother Nature.  She has a way of bringing out the worst in me.  There are seven deadly sins, and I'm pretty sure, this winter, she's helped me cover them all. Envy - oh, she makes me envious.  I look on at neighbors who own snowblowers,  and I feel a need to push a gas-powered-snow-sucking-then-shooting machine.  I would dance in the mini snowstorm it created. I would clear my driveway and those of all my neighbors. I would make a snow-maze for the kids to get lost in. I would dance down the street blowing snow all the way. I also covet those with snow-worthy vehicles.  As I trudge down the slick roads in my Escort that is almost old enough to drink, I long to have a car that is youthful and capable and that doesn't limp around on a donut. I almost wish I could slide off into a snowbank.  Leave it there till spring. Maybe it would grow into a minivan. Gluttony - Ever heard of stress eating? Ever driven on snow-packed roads?  I cou

"The need for civility in society has never been more important. The foundation of kindness and civility begins in our homes ." -Elder Quentin L. Cook (Read entire talk here .)

I love Larissa's link-up , because it gives me an excuse to tell you about my life. Ha. Like I don't already do that here. To answer her question, this is what's been going on. Last Saturday, I had a girls night with my sisters.  We went browsing at a furniture store (for Ellen, not me. I only dream of new furniture, like this really awesome leather sectional.  Someday...)  Then, we went to the movie and saw 'The Impossible'. OK, now, I could write an entire post about this movie. It was amazing and I highly recommend it.  Unless you have a heart problem, because it is an intense rollercoaster ride!  Also, bring tissues, because those napkins from the snack bar just don't cut it. (I cried through about 75% of the movie.)  I can pretty much guarantee that you will come away feeling like your problems are not that bad.   I LOVED this movie and plan to take the Handy Man to it as soon as possible.  (Also, finish your nachos/popcorn/candy in the firs

What is it?    A recurring online contest with agent judges and super-cool prizes.  What is eligible? They change the category each time, and I just happened to find out about this when the niche is my niche- YA. Entries can also be Sci-Fi (adults or teens).    Why am I excited? A real, live agent reading [even a little bit] of my book-- enough said!  If you're interested,  click on the link-- the contest is open til the end of January. 

"I have a dream."  How many times, in the almost 50 years since Mr. King spoke them, have they been repeated?   Did he have any idea the power those four words carried? For me, his words are more than just his dream.  They are an invitation, permission if you will, to have our own dreams.  Because, what are we, really, without our dreams?  It is in our nature to aspire, to reach and stretch.  If we don't dream, we stagnate, stuck in a pool of sameness, and stinted in our growth. Dreams give us freedom, they are our wings. Do you have a dream? Is it something you share and shout out loud? Like my author-dream?  It used to be something I kept inside, covered and sheltered.  I feared to share it, sure that in the sharing I made myself more vulnerable to not achieving it. I've found, though, that speaking, saying it out loud, does not diminish it's shine and sparkle. It is still there, waiting, watching as I reach out to touch it. I have other dreams.

My favorite thought from church today: "We are never happier than when we are reaching  down to lift another."

Of all the things I could give the Handy Man for his birthday, a post on here is not on his wish list.  He doesn't like attention of any kind. Well, not the public kind, anyway.  But, it's his day and I'm going to post about him. (Love you, babe!) Here's a few things about my husband- He lived in the same house his whole life (age 5 on). His parents still live there. He is the 8th of nine children. Growing up, he was shy and not very social. (Hasn't changed.) His hard working ethic has been firmly in place from a very young age.  He's always had a job, since high school. He went on a mission for our church to Rochester, NY.  This is where we met. (In Buffalo, actually.) This was a good way to meet, as we were just friends. (Missionaries are strictly forbidden to date--anyone.) He loves movies. And Mexican food.  He hates parties or any occasion that involves socializing. In the 21 years we've been married, he's called in sick maybe 6 t

My house is clean 90% of the time. That's 6 out of 7 days. With that fact, I've found that the law of averages is totally bogus. Why? Because anytime someone 'drops by' my house- it's dirty. Case in point- Monday night.  I was enjoying my evening, faffing around on the internet when the doorbell rang. Weird. We rarely get visitors afterhours.  I ignored it, sure it wasn't for me. It was. Dang! When I got downstairs, there was a strange man at the door. Not strange in a wearing-a-skirt-and-gauges way, but in a never-seen-you-before kind of way.  I hesitantly said 'hello', hoping he wasn't a really aggressive bill collector. "Hi, I'm Blaine's father."  Oh, it's my daughter's-soon-to-be-fiance's dad. "I'm here to pick up a phone." While my other kids tried to find said phone, we made chit-chat.  He was very pleasant and friendly. But, all I could think was, This room is a filthy mess. Honestly, I c

(people.com) Nope, not me. Or the Handy Man. Or our sons. But, I can see how you thought it was us. I saw her on TV. She served great snacks, threw fabulous birthday parties, and knew all the 'in' music.  She was stylish and fashionable, and so were her kids. She was 'Cool Mom' and I knew that someday, I would be her. Kids would hang out at our house.  My backyard would be a magnet for groups of kids. We would have water fights and late nights.  It would be awesome. Guess what?  Reality rarely lives up to TV. I'm the mom who forgets it's early Friday until it's too late and I have to hurry home to find my first grader sobbing on the front porch. (Twenty minutes isn't forever, people.) I'm the mom who doesn't send in the book order, so my kids have to look longingly at the piles of books the other students get. Moms who volunteer for field trips and plan amazing parties? Not me. Room mother? Oh, heaven forbid! But, every now and

Mother Nature came raging, Trailing her white cape behind her. Heavy white flakes sailed down, A thick, frozen blanket. The wind gusts and makes me Breathless. Home is a blessing. Walls and roof that shelter, Heat that sighs through floor vents, Blankets, pillows and nightlights. We gather in rooms in groups, Watching and playing and reading, Secure in our haven, While the world outside is swirling and cold. Perhaps tomorrow, The sun will smile And light the ground like diamonds. Children will play and romp, Red cheeked and bright eyed.   For now, I watch through windows, A world that is covered in marshmallow fluff. Everything is soft and rounded, Hills and valleys, drooping trees. A perfect winter wonderland.

I've been trying to think of something to write. Started and stopped several posts- mentally crinkling the paper and throwing it in the trash. Then, last night I had one of those slap-your-forehead-d'oh! moments. Weeks ago, Sleepy Joe  tagged me on her blog.  I was supposed to answer her questions about my book on or around January 9th.  Maybe my inner alarm clock went off, reminding me that I'd agreed to this. Anyway, now I have something to write about. Thank you, Sleepy Joe! (I'm answering these questions about my book that is finished, not the one in progress.) 1-What is the working title of your book? I've had several different titles, this has been a sticking point for me. I recently asked an agent if the title is that important, since the publishers usually change it. She said no, which gave me some relief from my anxiety.  For now, the title is Haven's Gift. 2-Where did the idea come from for the book? (This goes along with # 9) I was working

What's up in the frazzled household? Here's the scoop- My baby turned six. 6 . Not a baby anymore, which he is quick to tell me whenever I call him 'my baby'.  (Which is what he'll always be.) We rang in the new year with my sister, her husband, my brother, his wife, and two of the cutest girls ever . They don't know me too well, but that all changed when I started feeding them broccoli from the veggie tray. We played ring-around-the-rosie and a rompin' game of hide-and-seek. Now, they love me and I'm pretty sure I'm their favorite aunt. The kids went back to school- hurray! In celebration, I went to the library and wrote like a mad-woman.  Okay, not mad. I was quite calm. And quiet. It's the library, after all. My daughter and I had a long wedding talk.  She's just waiting on the ring so they can set a date (some time in March-yikes!).  It was a good talk. Afterwards, I went to the bathroom to study my reflection.  My conclusi