7:18 am

My 9-year-old and 7-year-old have 6 minutes to catch Bus 236 and ride 4 miles to PS 132. I pack 2 lunches, locate 70 cents for milk money, sign 3 papers and load up their backpacks, which seem to weigh 50 pounds each. My husband downs his second cup of coffee, aims a kiss at me, missing my cheek by 1/4 of an inch, and drives the 8 miles to work in rush hour traffic, which takes half an hour. The four-year-old turns on Channel 12 and Ernie introduces us to the number 5. I bribe my 2-year-old with 6 oyster crackers so that she will sit on the potty and do number two. I am on day 21 of my birth control pills. You know what that means. 

9:27 am

I have to be at the dentist’s by 10:00 so he can x-ray my number 32 molar. It will take 14 minutes, cost me $92 and I’ll have to give the babysitter my last five-dollar bill. There’s construction on Highway 127 and my car has only 1.5 gallons of gas in it. Three Dog Night are on the oldies station, singing “One”. I’m 34 years old and all I have in my purse is $9.98 in cash, 3 sticks of gum, 4 credit cards, 1 pair of toddler training underpants, and no tissues. I graduated from college with a 3.85 GPA. Sometimes I wonder why. 

11:36 am

I take the two youngest and go to K-Mart, which is having a sale. I spend $52.68 on 2 pairs of sneakers, 3 pairs of toddler jeans and a honking big box of disposable diapers. The 4-year-old tries 3 times to fit into the shelf under the shopping cart, the two-year-old manages 5 times to pull stuff off passing displays into the cart, I say “stop it!” approximately 837 times, and waste 17 minutes trying to fit into a pair of size 10 jeans. I have four kids, one husband, two cars, a dog, three parakeets and a 12-year-old house. Who cares about new jeans, anyway? 

2:51 pm

My 41-pound four-year-old falls asleep in the car and has to be carried up 17 steps to her bedroom. My 32-pound two-year-old throws her 12^th fit of the day and has to be punished with 5 minutes in the corner. Their naps overlap by exactly 11 minutes. I fold two loads of towels, wash 3 pairs of pantyhose, and do 20 sit-ups. My mother calls and spends 20 minutes telling me about how she won $40 by choosing six numbers in the lottery. I open a 7-Up. 

4:06 pm

My older children are home from school and within 12 seconds, they dump two bookbags, two lunchboxes, 4 shoes, two jackets and about 27 papers in the living room. I count to ten. I listen to first grade reading and help practice fourth grade spelling. My son sings a commercial jingle 17 times and my daughter reveals that she has 3 boyfriends, one of whom she kissed on the elbow. I start fixing supper. Oprah is having a show about strengthening your marriage. I could tell her a thing or two about that. I’ve been married for 12 years. I get one “date night” a month, one video rental a week, and sex every other night. Hey, it’s cheaper than counseling and burns calories, too. My husband gets cable TV and all the action movies he wants. None of them good.

 5:58 pm

We get through dinner with only 2 spills, 3 arguments, and 4 spaghetti stains. Thank goodness for 409. My husband spends 7 minutes watching the sports news on TV, 13 minutes reading the front page of the paper, and one and a half minutes talking to me. Then he clears the table and I forgive him. I load the dishwasher. Three meals a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year. I don’t even want to do the math. I make up a grocery list. One loaf bread, a dozen eggs, large size jar of peanut butter, and coffee. Lots of coffee. 

6:42 pm.

“Two, Four, Six, Eight, Who do we appreciate?”  12 cheerleaders, 9 years old, shake their pompoms and practice their cheers for PeeWee Football. My son and 16 other boys, shoulder pads dwarfing their heads, run around the field. Daughter #1 is playing hopscotch in the dirt. Daughter #2 is rolling in the dirt. Daughter #3 is at home with Daddy, pooping in her pants. I’m on Chapter 3 and just reread paragraph 4 for the fifth time. Daughter #2 whines for a Three Musketeers. I give her four Lifesavers.

 8:45 pm

Three sweet-smelling, freshly bathed daughters; one surly, funky-smelling son with 7 math problems to go. My husband falls asleep on the couch 8.5 minutes after I get home. I picture to myself one large baseball bat.  Then I switch the TV from Channel 9 (football) to Channel 18 (Jerry Springer) and turn the sound WAY UP. I sing two lullabies, read 3 stories, find the baby’s blankie and take her on one last trip to the potty. I tell the 9-year-old four jokes and let him borrow my walkman so he can listen to 30-year-old comedy routines by the Smothers Brothers in bed. Get 4 hugs and 4 damp, noisy kisses. I give one long, satisfied sigh. 

9:37 pm

I pour myself 6 ounces of wine, $6.98 a bottle. I pick up two sweaters, 3 socks, 4 naked Barbie dolls, 5 pennies, and 6 crayons. My husband comes out of his stupor and rubs my back. We have 8 hours and 23 minutes before it all starts over again. I kiss him twice. We check the TV Guide. Oh, good. “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers”.

Leap Year

 If I had an extra day

I could catch up on the ironing

I could clean my linen closet and get the ragged

Towels to the bottom of the pile

Where they belong

With an extra day, I could

Work in the yard, I could

Weed and plant instead of looking

Out the window and always thinking

“I ought….”

If I had an extra day

It wouldn’t be a Monday

Because Mondays are self-righteous and cold

And it wouldn’t be a Friday

Because Fridays are lazy and ne’er-do-well

I think it would have to be mid-week,

This extra day, and in the autumn

When the air is fresh and the sky

Becomes a Spanish tile of blue and white

Suspended overhead.

I’d rise early, this day not to waste.

My coffee would be freshly ground and

I’d drink it outdoors, listen to the breeze

And share my muffin with a robin

Or a wren.

On my extra day, I’d drive by the steam plant,

Whose triple towers send billowing clouds

I wouldn’t have to crane my neck and keep

One eye on traffic. I’d just park my car

And watch them rise.

On this special day, I’d visit my parents

And take flowers to their graves. I’d sit

On the cemetery bench and talk with my brother

And I’d remember how they lived

And not how they died

On this extra day, this bonus, this lagniappe,

I’d tell my loved ones how rich they make me feel

How, surrounded by them, I am rich enough,

Wealthy enough, to not really need

This extra day.

Some people like to use the extra day in Leap Year to actually take a flying leap – to try something new, to leap forward in a project, to spread their wings a little. What will you do this Leap Year day?

We met at Oakland Community College, in Farmington, Michigan, in 1970. Eight months after we married, my family relocated to North Carolina and took along the family business, Steele Rubber Products, manufacturing rubber parts for antique and collector cars. Matt and I stayed behind, but soon I was so homesick, that Matt approached my father about working for him and we moved to North Carolina in October of 1975.

I’ve never regretted it. North Carolina is a beautiful state with wonderful weather (most of the time!), and easy access from our home to both the mountains and the coast. However, it WAS a huge jolt to move from suburbia to an area that was much more rural. A major culture clash, and epitomized as much as anything else by the choice of restaurants in the area. Matt and I had been living in Oak Park, Michigan, after we married; a place where all kinds of ethnic restaurants were within five minutes of us. When we moved to Denver, North Carolina, there were only three restaurants in town – a fairly nice steak place and two diners serving typical southern food – grits, chicken-fried steaks, country biscuits, po-boys, and burgers ‘all the way’, which meant including cole slaw on the burger. We liked the country food, and loved the sweet ice tea, but we missed the choices we had up North. The first time we went for pizza after moving down south, we ordered a sausage and pepperoni pizza. It was covered with extremely salty pork sausage, instead of the semi-sweet Italian sausage we were used to; we each took one bite and then swallowed our beers in one gulp and got out of there! 

It took a long time for our area to draw in any restaurants. Strict blue laws meant liquor-by-the-drink could not be sold anywhere, and even beer and wine were limited to certain venues. As a result, few of the nicer restaurants were interested in locating here. That’s all changed now. In the 1980’s, as the racing car industry settled in nearby Mooresville, a new prosperity fell on the former textiles-manufacturing town, attracting new businesses, new residents, and new liquor-by-the-drink laws. It’s not that Matt and I are so boozy – honest! – but obviously, a restaurant that can serve drinks makes more money. 

So last night, it was with great pleasure that we enjoyed dinner at a really fine restaurant in Mooresville, the Epic Chophouse. It’s only been open about a year or so, located in a historic storefront on Main Street. Matt and I hadn’t been there before, but our darling younger children, Rebecca and Danny, gave us a gift certificate, so we checked it out. The food and service were fantastic. I won’t write a review here (although I will elsewhere), but what it mainly made us think was how much things have changed since we moved south. A sleepy little rural area has come to life, thanks largely to the racing industry, and now we have the advantages of modern development in terms of stores, restaurants, medical facilities and more, all within reach – where before, we had to drive for up to an hour for these items. Matt and I have changed so little (haha) in 37 years – but the area in which we live has changed a lot – and for the better. 

It’s just nice to think about and remember, once in a while.

What changes do you notice about where you live?

Welcome to my website – Click here to learn more about my books. Also check out book club info, read my blog, and visit me on Facebook. I hope you’ll visit often!

I recently read Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger, who is also the author of The Time Traveler’s Wife. I really love both books and became fascinated by the setting of Her Fearful Symmetry, which is Highgate Cemetery, just outside of London. Google allowed me to find this article about the author and her experiences at Highgate, where she eventually became so well-informed about the cemetery’s history and eminent residents, that she became a part-time tour guide.

Think about it. She’s a woman from Chicago, who started out as a graphic artist (more on that later) and wrote illustrated stories until she wrote a story too complicated to illustrate so she turned it into a novel, then wrote another novel set in a cemetery, a particularly gothic and atmospheric cemetery, traveled to London to do research at the cemetery and began hanging out there, becoming an expert and giving tours. Don’t you just love it? I do. I love thinking about her getting so hooked and passionate that she just couldn’t stay away. Research is one of my favorite parts of writing, having the mandate, you might say, to absolutely spend time going down the rabbit’s hole in studying something, to the point where you might just be a little nuts about it. Niffenegger has simply been able to carry it a little further than most.

When I was researching the life of a ballerina, in order to write Every Little Step She Takes, I spent hours watching Swan Lake over and over, watching other video’s about dancers’ lives, and reading about technique, practice routines and dance moves.  I wallowed in ballet, which I suppose is an oxymoron, but as I have never been a dancer, it was the closest I could come. At any rate, my point is I love it when someone is completely passionate about their work.

Ms. Niffenegger, as I mentioned, began as a graphic artist, and some of her work is on display at her website. I found out she has also written a couple of graphic novels, one of which, The Night Bookmobile, was published as a serial in The Guardian. You can read the whole thing here. It’s an intriguing story and the artwork is fascinating. If you’re a book nut, you’ll really want to check it out. The link leads you to the final pages of the book; you have to go to the oldest entry to get to the beginning and work backward. It’s worthwhile.

Question: Are you passionate about your work? Is there something that quite transports you with delight? What is it?

            This is the question I asked myself last year, when I first considered self-publishing my novel, Every Little Step She Takes. I was about to attend my 40^th high school reunion and I had to ask myself, had I achieved everything I’d dreamed about doing? Oh yes. And more. But while I’d had many of my short stories published, I still hadn’t been able to break down the walls of traditional publishing. Hadn’t even made a dent in them. (“Not for us, sorry.” “We like your characters, but the story doesn’t fit our guidelines.” “Have you tried writing a romance?”)

            Eighteen months later, I can’t complain. I now have two novels and one short story collection available in paperback or on Kindle, they’re selling well and building steam. Several book clubs have read my first novel, Every Little Step She Takes, and some of them have returned to read my second novel, “The Pleasure of Your Company.” Sales are building, and obviously, a lot of people received Kindles for Christmas – I can tell by the spike in sales on the 25^th and after.

            So, what’s next? I’m working on my next novel, tentatively titled “Two Weeks Every Summer”, about a family at Camp Meeting, that Southern small-town religious revival/family reunion that provides a great, unique setting as well as a built-in situation ripe for comedy and drama. More on that as it goes.

            And hopefully, more blogging as 2012 unwinds. To get things started, I want to tell you about a great new book I got for Christmas. It’s titled “The Pocket Muse; Ideas and Inspirations for Writing” and it’s by Monica Wood, and therein lies a tale.

            Several years ago, I had gotten active in writing reviews on Amazon.com. Just for fun, in my free time. I was contacted by a writer named Monica Wood, asking if I would review her new novel, “My Only Story”. I was very flattered to be asked and immediately read the book, enjoyed it tremendously, and wrote the review. (It’s still on Amazon’s webpage for the book, although you’ll have to scroll down a way, I wrote it in 2000.) Then, a few weeks ago, I happened to read an article in Oprah magazine, titled “What Betty Knows”. The article was about a woman’s view of her mentally-handicapped sister (“Betty”) and how their relationship is shaped by their abilities and inabilities to enter each other’s world. I loved the article. Having my own sister with special needs, I am fascinated by how other families deal with these things. I even wrote about my special sister in “Another Weekend with Susie”, one of the stories in my short story collection, “After the Wink and other stories”.  Then I saw the author’s name – Monica Wood. The same Monica Wood? Yes, indeed.

            I went to her website, http://monicawood.com, and saw the titles to the other books she’s written since “My Only Story”. And was fascinated, once again, to see that she had written three books about writing, as well as three more novels. I immediately put her books on my Christmas wish list, and received The Pocket Muse from my son on Christmas morning. I opened the book and started leafing through it, and what jumped out at me? She starts her book by asking the reader, What are you waiting for? If not now, when?

            I love serendipity. I love the lucky coming together of chances. So, to me, this was serendipitous – that a book on inspiration would start where I started eighteen months ago, by asking myself to take a chance, to take a leap of faith. To recognize that I’m not getting any younger or any more beautiful, but maybe I can still become more creative, more able to express myself, more fearless about trying new things.

By the way – about “The Pocket Muse” – if you’re a writer, you’ll want to see this book. It’s full of photos, tips, and suggestions for free-writes to get you going. Example of a writing prompt: Fill in the blank. “Seven days ago ______________, and now nobody will talk to me.” Example of a writing tip: “Once a week, skip to the next part of whatever you’re working on, no matter how stuck you feel.” Example of some inspiration: “Writer’s Block? If you have a dog or cat, brush him. Take a lot of time. Relax. Compose your thoughts. Don’t panic. If you don’t have a pet, find a kid and braid her hair.” I’m loving this.

            So here’s my New Year resolution – to write more. Every day. Early in the morning, late in the evening, and to live to my utmost in between. I turn 60 this year, which is kinda scary and kinda empowering. Why hold back? Why not take the chance to create the kind of writerly life I crave, filled to the brim with inspiration from other writers and readers and fascinating characters. Seriously. If not now, when?

The past year and a half has been very exciting and busy, self-publishing three books. I never expected to go this route, but I have to say it’s been worthwhile. Several book clubs have read my novels and a couple more clubs are reading them in January. The public libraries of Lincoln, Gaston and Catawba counties carry my books, and they can also be ordered from Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

I made the decision to self-publish in July of 2010, right after I received an invitation to my 40th high school reunion. I decided – if not now, when? I don’t reach as large an audience as I would if my books were traditionally-published, but the people who’ve read them seem to enjoy them. I hope, if you read my books, that you’ll enjoy them and maybe write a review for Amazon or Goodreads. I can use all the word-of-mouth I can get.

For 2011, I would like to write entries to this blog a little more regularly, and I’ll be writing about the things that inspire me, about my writing life, about being a Baby Boomer and taking the opportunity to DO things that I only dreamed about before. I’m also an active Toastmaster, and will probably write a bit about that. If you don’t know what Toastmasters is, it’s a self-help organization that teaches you to become comfortable with public speaking and leadership. I joined several years ago because I was in a writing class and we were required to do an ‘open-mic’ reading. I wanted to be able to remember how to breathe while doing this, so Toastmasters seemed a good idea. I’ve remained a member because it’s fun and now that I’m needing to learn how to self-promote, it’s helpful.

I’d much rather be writing than self-promoting, so I hope to do a lot more of that in the new year as well. For some time, I’ve been picking away at a story about Camp Meeting, and need to settle down and WRITE it. I’ll keep you posted how it goes.

For now, I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I didn’t get my Christmas cards sent out this year – my bad – but I certainly wish everyone the happiest of holidays (and plenty of great reading!).

Vesuvius Vineyards is located in a rural section of Lincoln County – so rural, I didn’t even know it was there, although I don’t live far away.  I’d heard of Vesuvius Furnace, an iron foundry that operated from 1790’s until several years after the Civil War. What I didn’t know was that one of the furnace’s founding partners, Joseph Graham, had built a house just down the road from the foundry, and that the house is now restored to former grandeur and serving as a venue for weddings and receptions of all sorts. I had the pleasure of meeting some members of the family who now own the house and got to hear some of its history.

John Lineberger III and Jay Thompson, cousins who are involved in the business and who served as our bartenders that evening.

John Lineberger, one of the owners, and me 

What I find so interesting is how the past and the present are so intermingled. Those historic homes I toured last weekend are still currently occupied by people whose lives might contain many mementoes of the past, and yet they’re still very involved in present-day activities. The Lineberger family that I met at Vesuvius Vineyards have done a beautiful job of restoring a beautiful old house, but they’re deeply involved in providing today’s brides and grooms with a beautiful and spectacular setting for their special event. I’m currently working on my third novel, to be set at Camp Meeting, those evocative summer rituals – part religious revival, part family reunion – at which history is an integral part. (Just visit many of the tents and see the photographs proudly displayed of families gathered on the porch, going back through generations.) We are ourselves, in this time, with cell phones and Twitter and high gas prices and heavy political debates, and we are our ancestors, with Model T’s and no air conditioning and ragtime music and heavy political debates.

At any rate, it was a real pleasure to be at an event that combined a lovely setting (the grounds of Vesuvius Vineyards are just as nice as the house), fantastic food (LEDA provided an international cuisine featuring dishes from Austria, Australia, Brazil, Germany, Iceland, Israel, Japan and Singapore, to honor the nationalities now operating businesses in the county), fascinating conversation and what might possibly have been the last of the mild fall weather (I hope not!), with the bonus of inspiration that dovetailed so beautifully with things I’m trying to write. I love serendipity.

Vesuvius Vineyards has a terrific website with a lot of history on the house and foundry, at http://www.vesuviusvineyards.com and LEDA’s website has an article on the International Appreciation event here.

            The weather was perfect – sunny and mild – and we were able to do most of the tour in a single walk. I don’t live in Mooresville, I mainly visit the shopping centers and restaurants out near the highway, but I’ve been spending more time in town lately and am just beginning to realize how many attractive vintage neighborhoods are in the area. This past summer, my sister and I visited a number of the antiques shops downtown and after this weekend’s tour, I look forward to coming back to drive around once the houses are decorated for Christmas.

            At any rate, the tour was a lot of fun. In some of the houses, the owner was there to give a history and details about the renovations, the antique furniture, and previous owners. In other cases, a docent from the Mooresville Historic Preservation Commission provided a running commentary.

            Some of the houses are restored almost completely accurately for their period, with some exceptions for kitchens and baths, while others are an eclectic mix of old and modern. We particularly enjoyed the William P. Johnston Home, c. 1925, which is a Mediterranean Revival style with a lovely little courtyard area, and the Gold Medallion Home, almost at the other end of the spectrum, built in 1958, and Mooresville’s first entirely-electric house. The owners have many vintage 1958 touches in the house, while still keeping it modern. We especially liked the kitchen countertops, which were laminated and finished off with chrome molding, just like those old kitchen tables of the 1950’s. The owners, Micah and Elizabeth Scrogginthorpe, also showed off their 1958 camper, an Airstream-type with an aluminum exterior and wood interior, in which they traveled on their honeymoon a few years ago.

Here’s a link to an article in the Lake Norman News section of The Charlotte Observer about the tour and photos of the houses: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2011/10/19/2692189/mooresville-tour-to-show-8-historic.html

            What I really enjoyed on the tour was seeing both the history of the houses and the current owners’ own personal touches. Some displayed a serious interest in cooking, others in art or nature. Unfortunately, while I did bring my camera, I managed to leave the battery behind, charging away, so I don’t have any photos. After we completed the tours, my sisters, niece, and I went out to lunch together and got talking about our own home histories. I can remember well the houses I lived in, growing up, and later when I moved out on my own, and I’m sure each of you can think of many interesting stories to go with the history of each place where you’ve lived. You can learn so much about a person by seeing where they live – their personal photos, the things they value. I don’t have a lot of antiques in my homes – the ones I do have are each personal mementoes, gifts from my family members, belongings that once were owned by my grandparents or parents. When I go to an antiques shop, I find nowadays I’m most drawn to items from my childhood (shocking as it is to realize they’re now considered antiques!). I’m including here a photo of a desk that I was given on my fourteenth birthday. It had belonged to my great-grandmother, then my grandma, and my father refinished it for me. On the shelf above is a photo collage of my mother at three different ages, and on the right is my maternal grandma and grandpa’s wedding photo, c. 1925.

            I’ve always been interested in family history and heritage for our own family. It was fun to get a glimpse of other people’s history (and the history of their houses!) for a change. You can read more about the Mooresville Historic Preservation Commission and see more photos of the homes here: http://www.historicmooresville.org/category/tour-of-homes/

Why?

Well, let’s see. First, I went to Colorado with my husband for a few days. He goes every year, to ski, but I’ve never been so we decided this would be our first test destination. The test was, can we spend several days together without anyone else’s company? Although we were empty nesters for a short time (and we liked it), we now have our two youngest living home again while finishing college. We’ve also rarely ever vacationed anywhere without either being accompanied by family or having most of the trip taken up with business.

I’m happy to say we survived and enjoyed the trip. Even though I experienced a little altitude sickness. We enjoyed our trip up the Steamboat Springs ski gondola, we enjoyed watching a bike race, we enjoyed visiting Georgetown and the narrow-gauge railway trip. I’m now thinking about what other places we could visit as a true vacation for two.

After we got home, we pretty much turned right around again and headed for Michigan, to visit Matt’s mom on her 100^th birthday. This little old Italian lady can take a licking and keep on ticking. Last March she broke her hip and, of course, we all thought maybe this would be the end, but no, she looks better now than before her hip broke. We had a great time visiting her and all the relatives, but while we were gone, our son was in a car accident. He’s fine, and nobody else was involved, but his car was totaled and his sister had to stand in for us and deal with everything. He owes her big-time.

So we got back, and much of our time was taken up with dealing with that situation, with dealing with the realization that he could have been killed (THAT will disturb your ability to focus on anything else, let me tell you). While we were gone to Michigan, one of my aunts passed away suddenly and I was unable to go to Florida for the funeral. Two of my sisters went, but much of my thoughts have been with that family.

Family relationships continued to dominate our lives following that week. A niece has gone away to college. We miss her. A nephew is ending his marriage and has moved back to North Carolina. We’re glad he’s back but sorry for his pain. An aunt came to visit for a couple of days and we had a good time catching up with her, and now a cousin and her husband have come for a visit, too. It’s been wonderful to see them, and we’ve had a chance to share good and bad news, memories, laughs, and a mean game of Yahtzee. Ultimately, for me, there’s nothing like family. They understand us.

Yesterday, I took part in a Toastmasters competition and won, so I’ll be going on to compete at the next level. Autumn has suddenly come to NC, so I’ve been organizing closets and fall clothes. The new season of TV shows have started. After a couple of months of drought, we’ve suddenly had several days of rain. Eventually, EVENTUALLY, I’ll be able to focus on writing again. In the meanwhile, I’ve had lots of inspiration, and many chances to appreciate once again how much I treasure my extended family.

Wishing all of you a happy and enjoyable Autumn and lots of love.