Family Fun

My cousin Mika and his family came over last night. It was so fun. His wife Lisa is hilarious and makes any get together feel like a party. I love being so much closer to them--even if we have lived here six months and this is the first time our families have gotten together since we've been back! Garrett grilled burgers and hot dogs and we ate until we couldn't eat anymore.

I had so much fun that I forgot to take pictures. And I really should take pics because Max and his second cousins are about the cutest bunch of kids you'll ever see.

I attempted to take this photo while B. was giving a phenomenal show with Guitar Hero. That boy can work a stage. He is the most impressive performer we've had so far. As you can see, he was in between sets when I got this shot.

Max loved seeing everyone. The girls are going to be wonderful babysitters and mommies (the latter a looooong time from now). Unfortunately, they're getting older and have extremely busy schedules. I better snag them while I can. I showed all of the kiddos the guest room, so hopefully they'll come play with us.

Although Max enjoyed playing with everyone, he was ready to go to bed when it was time. We were enjoying ourselves so much that we didn't pay attention to the clock. Little Boe Peep is three years old and a big help. Max began fussing, so she and I went in to change his diaper. Max leapt off the table toward her. She cringed and said, "I don't like it when he's naked."

Once I put him on the floor, he crawled over to his little prayer doll they'd given him for Christmas. We hold it every night before reading our bedtime books. A couple of weeks ago, the doll said, "Amen." Then I said, "Amen." Then MAX said, "Amen." So, he knows the doll is part of his bedtime ritual. He only plays with it at bedtime. I was a dunce, though, and didn't realize it was bedtime until I'd dragged him back into the living room. Then I realized what a smart kid I had! He was ready for bed and we weren't listening to him tell us.

For those of you who follow the blog regularly, you may remember Little Bo Peep giving Max a bottle. She expected him to be the same now. She placed the boppy on her waist when it was bedtime and asked if she could feed him. It was an adorable sight and I felt horrible telling her that he didn't lie down on it anymore and that he could actually feed himself. I told her, "They just grow up so fast." She nodded seriously as if she knew exactly what I was saying.

What a week!

This week has been full of sad endings in pop culture.

1. Jon and Kate Gosselin. I cried as I watched Monday night's show where they announced their intention to separate. Later I read a USA Today article that said they'd been separated for two years. What? Does that mean their vow renewal last year in Hawaii was a fraud? Or was Kate being dramatic and meaning they've lived separately metaphorically? I'm so sad for the kids and for them. No one wants to be a statistic. I'm optimistic they will get back together, though. Yes. That's how I am.

2. Ed McMahon. After years of being Johnny Carson's sidekick and hosting his own shows, the man everyone wanted to see on their doorstep holding a big check is no longer with us.

3. Farrah Fawcett. I had a Farrah doll when I was a little girl. Charlie's Angels was totally cool. The Farrah doll beat the high-heeled shoes and tight pants off of Barbie any day.

4. Michael Jackson. When I heard he'd had a heart attack, death never occurred to me. When I learned he died, the news stunned me. I was never a big fan, but I respected his work. I recognize that he changed the face of music. The man was a performer. He was the King of Pop. He never had a childhood and he never lived out of the spotlight. Since he never had it while alive, I hope he finds peace now.

Dearly departed...

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to scrap my novel-in-progress. I've been working on it for a while and am halfway finished. However, with the move, I'd set it aside for a while.

And I lost my rhythm.

I lost the heart of the story.

I didn't care about it anymore.

This, my dears, is not good...for the novel. For me it worked out great.

I'm a Taurus. I'm stubborn. I listen to you, but it might take a while for it to sink in. My friend often expressed that she wished I'd work on a young adult novel again. (The other novel was a high concept humor for adults.) Her argument made sense because I've spent most of my life in high school. It also made sense because I already have one novel published in that genre. (Buy Glamour!) Her words finally sunk in.The one thing I totally loved about the now defunct project was the characters. They were so much fun that I wanted to hang out with them. Well, now I am hanging out with them in every spare moment. They're just younger. I went back in time to when they were in high school. How cool is that?

Now, I have rhythm.

I have heart.

I care.

And this, my dears, is very good.

Nurse Jackie and Twilight

Showtime's new series Nurse Jackie is entertaining in a weird, cable sort of way. I love how their shows are twisted. Give me some Dexter and Weeds and I'm in Netflix heaven.

The main character is played by Edie Falco who played Carmella on HBO's The Sopranos. In a way, I can imagine Carmella living in a parallel universe where she's not the faithful wife and mother and doles out her own sort of justice.

Aside from the main character, viewers will recognize Peter Facinella who plays Dr. Cooper. Whether or not "Coop" just might be a decent doctor is still up for grabs. The doc himself is one who grabs. His character claims he has a sort of syndrome where he acts out in sexually inappropriate way when he's nervous. He claims he's "uninsurable" as he cups Nurse Jackie during a tense conversation.

Who is this actor? None other than the same man who plays the honorable, vegetarian vampire Dr. Carlisle Cullen in Twilight. One is a possible incompetent and one is a respected, if bloodthirsty, professional. Interesting casting, don't you think?

Hummingbirds will not domesticate me

My father has placed hummingbirds' lives in my hands.

He placed a hummingbird feeder in front of Max's playroom window to amuse him. They do. We adults probably enjoy them as much as Max.

The feeder needed more food this morning. So, I made it. I found the recipe online. 4 parts water to 1 part sugar. Boil the water and then add the sugar. I figured even I can make this concoction without burning it.

And I did.

Three times.

No kidding.

After Garrett got up this morning, I told him how enterprising I'd been. Well, he'd been pretty busy, too.

"Was that the stuff in a pot on the stove?"

Was?

How can I get upset that he poured the stuff out when he cleaned the kitchen?

So I made more.

This time, my friend Colleen helped me pour it in the feeder. She's an organic farmer. She knows what she's doing. Five years ago she worked in corporate America. Now she's slaughtering cattle, milking goats, and growing food. She totally knows how to feed birds, right? Well, with my help, we did something wrong because I looked out this afternoon and it was empty. Somehow it leaked out on the ground.

I've made another batch and am waiting for it to cool before attempting to fill it again. Anyone want to place bets on whether those little hummingbirds will get fed?

Zagat for wildlife is not giving me a good score.

Stormy weather

It stormed today. Enormous clumps of ice dropped into my backyard. Dark clouds swept across the sky like a group of dangerous boys--if I could have crossed the street to avoid them, I would have. The lightning sizzled. The thunder sounded like big potatoes rolling across a wooden floor.

And it rained. And rained.

I hate stormy weather. It makes me want to dig a hole in the ground and hide until tornado season passes. Of course, in Oklahoma, tornado season seems to be at least six months out of the year.

I know people who love it. You probably know them, too. They stand out on their porches and watch tornadoes. They hop in their cars and hunt for them. I would need to inject a whole lot of crazy into my system before I could do either of those without investing in Depends.

First Page

On Saturday, I spoke at Hawk Publishing Group's writing workshop in Tulsa. I enjoyed this because I also had the opportunity to sit in on a few sessions. Each time I've heard K.D. Wentworth speak has been rewarding. She makes me laugh and always teaches me something.

The nugget I'll share with you today is that she said that the first page of a novel or short story should include the character, context (setting), and conflict. The conflict should be the worst problem that character can have.

That's a lot to get on the first page.

And she's totally right.

Wentworth is the coordinating judge, which means she's the first judge, of the science fiction contest Writers of the Future. There is no entry fee and the prizes are big. The contest receives about 4000 entries a year.

Does she feel obligated to read all entries? No way. There's not enough time. She claims that the easiest way to weed through the stories is to look at the first page. If the story has character, context, and conflict on the first page, she'll continue. Otherwise, she'll toss it.

Whether you enter the Writers of the Future contest or are submitting a novel or short story to an agent or magazine, make sure your story doesn't get tossed!

Read this great interview with KD Wentworth to learn more about becoming a successful writer.

1st cousins

Max met his cousin Oban for the first time. In the past, Uncle Brett always made sure Oban was hanging out elsewhere when we'd visit. When they finally met, Oban shook with excitement. At least, I hope it wasn't fear. Max tentatively patted her and eventually grinned.

Max was in awe of this creature that was dog. He watched her scamper all over Brett's enormous yard. Oban dazzled him by grabbing a turtle by its shell and flinging it across the lawn.

Yep. I think those kids could get into lots of trouble together.

Workshops are just ducky

Hanging out with a group of 2nd through 5th graders at Okmulgee Elementary School was a great way to spend my morning. The kiddos signed up for a summer program in which they will write their own books. Based on what they shared today, you might see them on a bestseller list soon.

Having such a wide range of ages concerned me at first, but it worked out well. I don't know what I was worried about. These students wanted to write. After all, they did sign up to spend part of their summer inside... a school... writing a book. How lucky am I to get to meet them?

I was lucky enough to get to introduce to them how "to get their ducks in a row" as far as organizing their thoughts into a story. We sang a song, read a book, and played with the basic story elements--as well as my son's rubber duckies.

Hopefully, I'll get to see some of their completed projects. The school has invited me to return in the fall to introduce the writing process to their fifth graders. Maybe I can read the finished books then.

If you or someone you know is interested in having a writing workshop, please contact me. Although I enjoy the giggles and hugs from the little ones, I also love working with teens and adults. Let me know if you have a specific area of interest, and I'll create a workshop for your need.

Itsy bitsy spider and its evil twin

The other night I nestled into a chair with my favorite blanket. My muscles loosened from a long day. Relaxation was about to be realized.

Then I felt something strange.

It was a tickling sensation in my chest. Was I feeling guilty? Was this my body's way of telling me something?

No.

The tickling sensation moved and I realized it was not in my chest, but on my chest.

Strange, I thought. It feels just like a spider might feel.

I peeked down my shirt and saw that, yes, a spider was indeed creeping across my skin.

Crawling under my shirt.

Crawling under my bra.

One spindly leg at a time.

I leapt off the chair. A crack-whore couldn't have removed her blouse and bra faster. All the while I was wiggling and chanting. "There's a spider on me! There's a spider on me! There's a spider on me!" Silence broke my rant for only a moment while I held my breath to prevent the creepy-crawly from going into my mouth.

I couldn't find the spider in my clothes or on the floor, so I decided it must be in my hair. The chanting and dancing continued. It was like a National Geographic special right in my living room.

Garrett laughed really hard until I curled up in a ball and cried. Then he killed the spider after I found it crawling on the rug.

The other night I'd drowned an identical spider in the bathtub. Garrett walked in while I was chanting "Diediediediediedie."

I think that spider either returned up the water spout or its evil twin got even.