Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Here is my latest creative moment
I found this craft and was impressed with how you do it. You first draw your subject, trace it with glue, add yarn on the lines to form an impression that will be raised once you cover it with aluminum foil. Its easier than it sounds. I know because I put off (imagine that) trying this, thinking it was too hard. The thing I learned was that the whole time I just knew it was going to be hard to get the aluminum in all the crevices of the yarn, I was wrong. Once I laid the aluminum foil over picture all I did was run my hand over it and Presto! The image of the elephant rose to the surface. Then I added color. This taught me yet another lesson.
I am back !
I went to look at my blog to see if it had grown wings and flown away and
it was still sitting there waiting on me. Funny how that happens. It’s sort of
like dishes, laundry, or stacks of bills. They just sit there patiently waiting
for you to come do something about them.
I
listened to my blog whining about my absence, complaining that I’d forgotten it
and my overall neglect, missing updates and otherwise dragging of my feet.
(Blogs can be so annoying at times, not to mention bossy!)
To quote my
son, “Mom, what else do you have to do?” Which he has said to me at
times when I've commented on having to do something I've been putting off. I
could lie and say, “Dishes, laundry, and attending to my bills,” but then, they
would scream, “Liar, liar, pants on fire”.
So I
decided that I would mend my ways and come back to blogging. The first thing I thought I owed my blog was
a makeover
(Who doesn't love a makeover?)
Note: You can fiddle with color
schemes until your eyes start seeing spots. That was just FYI.
I think I
found one that looks nice and has a hidden subject. I’ll give you a hint. There
is an elephant in the room. I have been attracted to elephants this past
year and a half. Well, not physically. I’m not certain why they caught my
attention, but they have. I've put one on my Facebook cover and have collected several pictures. I just recently completed a picture (which I will post at the
end of this posting).
But if
you look closely at the background, you will see the elephant in my blog-room. I
also recently found a live Wildlife Cam in Africa where you can watch these
magnificent beasts come to drink. Of course, the time difference between
Ashville, Oho, and Africa is reversed so my sleep pattern has gone haywire again. It only took
me a few nights of sitting in my chair listening to crickets chirping for an
hour or so to find another way to do this.
Because
there is sound with the viewing, as the camera pans one part of the watering
hole you might hear bushes moving and water splashing. I find myself telling
the camera to move quickly in the direction of the noise. Sadly, by the time
the camera listens to me, whatever was there is gone. Nothing listens to me.
So, I
came up with a solution whereby I can enjoy sitting in the comfort of my living
room and being amazed a watching elephants and other wild animals a continent
away and not lose sleep. I watch the archives of the previous night’s activities
while drinking my morning coffee. I guess you’d then call it Post live?
Previously live? Pretend live? I’m sure
the elephants would object to any of those descriptions letting me know that
they are indeed very much ALIVE!
My son
had a comment (what else is new) when I told him about the site and being so
amazing that I could be watching elephants thousands of miles away unbeknownst
to them. He said, “Imagine what the elephants would say if they were able to
watch you back.” Haha.
You’d
read headlines the next day,
AFRICAN ELEPHANTS DIE FROM OVEREXPOSURE TO
LAUGHING AT LOCAL WATERING HOLE!
Okay, I’m
moving on.
I've written another book since my last blogging. I’m currently in Ashville, Oh, and I've aged. I have an artificial knee and an artificial shoulder now. I seem to
be replacing body parts like batteries. They only last for so long and then one
day – poof, you need new ones.
I've come
to find out that I have cataracts, (I will NOT be messing with those!) I can
see fine, they are just there.
Well, I
guess that is about all the excitement about me since my last post that you can
handle. Now I’ll attempt to post the elephant picture I did recently. Which me luck.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
New book is now available on Anazon!
Fate? Destiny? A predetermined life? Whatever you believe,
somehow we get from one event in our lives to another. Why do we often give
credit to unfortunate situations as being the best thing that could ever have
happened to us? Do we want to somehow believe that even those times are within
our control to edit the outcome?
Sandra Bloom never dreamed that coming face to face with fate, would be during a trip to the store for pretzels and beer for a husband who she might have shared a home with, but not really a life and definitely not her heart.
Sandra Bloom never dreamed that coming face to face with fate, would be during a trip to the store for pretzels and beer for a husband who she might have shared a home with, but not really a life and definitely not her heart.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QLZN1G
I am such a Crybaby
I am such a crybaby
I know that I'm supposed to not be such a crybaby at my
age, but I can’t help it on days like this. Finding myself once again staring
into the screen of my computer at my new book as I hit - Save and Publish! It brings
the tears. I guess you just have to be one of us crazy wannabe writers
to truly understand the rush of excitement when a book with our name on it hits
the shelves. Even though my scope of readers isn’t among the millions, with the
help of Amazon and the self-publishing industry my little world of titles is
worldwide!I want to give a short background to my latest ‘child’. On the morning of
The first part of this story came to me in that dream. But that was all I had. Maybe it’s just me and that’s alright if it is, but as I begin to write, the story starts telling itself to me. I’m its first reader. I’ll write a few chapters and when I go back to read over it to see what I wrote it’s like reading someone else’s book. I have even come to keeping notes chapter by chapter so I can refer back to names, places and what’s happening because I don’t remember what I’ve written. And sometimes I have no idea where I'm going with the story.
As I did the formatting these past three days to get this book ready for Kindle I fully expected to see another name as the author in place of mine. But alas, it is mine, all mine! I even remembered how to design my own cover, seeing that it’s been awhile since I had to create one.
I keep asking myself the same question about this love of writing that will just not go away. Why do I love it so much? It certainly isn’t because I am a well-known author or have found some secret to breaking into the publishing world. Lord knows there are thousand of others like myself who write their books and hope and pray one day someone with the wherewithal reads them and they become a noted author.
Maybe it’s just for my own sense of accomplishment. Then with the Olympics being in progress I came to this concussion. I’m an Olympic writer. Physically, I sit in total amazement at the strength, determination, and sacrifice that these people make everyday of their lives to get to this coveted place – being the best in the world. Receiving that Gold Metal of recognition!
Although, I’m in no way comparing writing to the daily regiment that it takes to become an accomplished athlete, but what I think I can understand is the ‘heart’ part of believing in a dream and not giving up. Part of what I think drives them forward is looking behind them. Believing that all the years, hours, days, and minutes of doing what they love to do will become all worth it in the end. Even those who don’t place for a metal say the same thing, “I didn’t give up. I made it this far and I am proud of my accomplishments.”
Maybe not all of us who have a dream that we follow have to have a ‘metal’ to prove that we have heart. Mine is beating faster once again today as I look at my new accomplishment. This one was birthed quicker then ever before. I think it’s a good story. It reads easily and made me believe that good things can end up happening from not so good beginnings.
These new characters took me on a journey of just that, a not so good beginning but an ending that made me wish I could be there with them. As much as I love getting to the end of a book, I hate it even more. I want to stay in that world. I’ll miss Sandra Bloom and her friend and for sure Tom Perts who stumbled upon them one day . . . Hmm, might just be a sequel here!
So to my few faithful friends and wonderful family, I say thank you for letting me share my thoughts and tell you that A Clap of Thunder will be at your local friendly bookstore, Amazon, within 48 hours should you want to read it.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Fancy Chicks
Fancy Chicks
When I was a little girl I spent a summer on my grandparent’s farm. I have some very vivid memories of collecting eggs with me Grandfather. I can still remember the warm soft underbelly of the Road Island Red hen as I reached under it to collect an egg after being assured that the friendly hen wouldn’t peck me. I can even remember how excited I was. I never forgot that simple childhood experience.
During my adult lifetime I have had my own chick-a-Dees. I love the gentle clucking, strutting, and rustling of feathers. Even more I always loved the way they became attached. I am sure it had something to do with seeing the bowl of fresh vegetable clippings or cups of grain I came with. I want to believe it was that they loved me as much as I loved them. I did have a couple that would actually follow me around the yard whenever I let them out of the chicken yard. It was a free-for-all on the days when they were let out after mowing the lawn to scavenge for bugs that were stirred up. When one keen girl found a bug all the rest ran like a blue-light sale at Kmart! They’d shove one another and peck madly sending a cloud of grass shavings everywhere.
Today my personal collection of hens and roosters sits across the room from me on a book case with a couple tucked in around my house plants. Still a pleasure. So when I found this chicken craft on Penterest my creative mind ran wild! I instantly thought about several ways to “Fancy” up these chicks.
I did my own scavenging around in my craft supplies from past projects and soon I was deep in cardboard, feathers, and beads, wielding my hot glue gun.
So here is the first sample chick I found.
We decided on a tasteful outfit. She is now a fluffy girl decked out with black shoes, earrings and
a classy scarf!
When I was a little girl I spent a summer on my grandparent’s farm. I have some very vivid memories of collecting eggs with me Grandfather. I can still remember the warm soft underbelly of the Road Island Red hen as I reached under it to collect an egg after being assured that the friendly hen wouldn’t peck me. I can even remember how excited I was. I never forgot that simple childhood experience.
During my adult lifetime I have had my own chick-a-Dees. I love the gentle clucking, strutting, and rustling of feathers. Even more I always loved the way they became attached. I am sure it had something to do with seeing the bowl of fresh vegetable clippings or cups of grain I came with. I want to believe it was that they loved me as much as I loved them. I did have a couple that would actually follow me around the yard whenever I let them out of the chicken yard. It was a free-for-all on the days when they were let out after mowing the lawn to scavenge for bugs that were stirred up. When one keen girl found a bug all the rest ran like a blue-light sale at Kmart! They’d shove one another and peck madly sending a cloud of grass shavings everywhere.
Today my personal collection of hens and roosters sits across the room from me on a book case with a couple tucked in around my house plants. Still a pleasure. So when I found this chicken craft on Penterest my creative mind ran wild! I instantly thought about several ways to “Fancy” up these chicks.
I did my own scavenging around in my craft supplies from past projects and soon I was deep in cardboard, feathers, and beads, wielding my hot glue gun.
I made a plain-Jane chick and after a brief conversation
with Henrietta (what else would I
call her?)
I am sure there are many more of her feathery sisters who
will soon join the lineup because right now they are marching through my mind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


