Weekly Recap 3/28

Weekly Recap 3/28
Image provided by
Percita @ https://www.flickr.com/photos/dittmars/

This week seemed like it last for three — at least. Yet, it wasn’t all that much different from the week before. One thing was certain. The weather is now saying, “It’s Spring, people!” Although the high yesterday was only 46F, the rest of the week was temperatures in the 60sF. I have daffodils growing in the flowerbed on the side of the carport. I’m still waiting for the iris.

  • Hubby is healing from his surgery. He chopped up some the branches that fell during the ice storm we had a few weeks ago. The doctor still doesn’t want him at a job for another three weeks. We just keep on pinching pennies until they squeal.
  • The WIP is coming along but slowly. I’ve completed the first scene, written my summary for the second scene, and have started writing that one. I need to write a couple more character development sheets, which I’ll be working on later today and tomorrow if necessary. I was hoping that writing in long hand would work for me, but I’m finding it hard to make my hand keep up with what I’m thinking. Typing allows me to write what I think more easily. It would be even better if I could type with both hands but that would take an act of God. So, I’m back to using yWrite5. I wish it had a thesaurus. Maybe it does but not in the free version. Word count: 2017, Hours: 4 — Yes, I know, I need to get the number of hours up to between 10 and 12. That will automatically make the word count go up.
  • I’m still aloof from the norms of society. I feel a little guilty about enjoying all of this alone time. I even find myself listening more and talking less during conversations with Hubby and my mom. I think Hubby is liking this. I’m sure he considered this a break from my usual overactive chatter. My mom, on the other hand, has even expressed some concern, thinking something is wrong.

I’m determined to make this next week more productive. For several years now, I’ve been in the bad habit of waiting for someone else’s lead. If I’m going to march to a different drum, obviously there isn’t anyone to follow. I’m it, all of it. Still, I am hoping that I still have your moral support. If it’s possible for you, keep on pushing me forward. 🙂 ❤


The Darkest Hour

The Darkest Hour
Image provided by
dangvanchien @ https://www.flickr.com/photos/dangvanchien/

In the story about the birth of Jesus, Mary and Joseph have to travel to Bethlehem. Most people know this, of course. In many of the paintings, movies and TV shows showing this journey, the scene is one of nighttime.

As most of you know, the shortest day of the year is coming up. In fact, it’s this Sunday, just two days away if you’re reading this post on the day I’ve published it and aren’t too far east of where I am. It’s called the Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere (retrieved from timeanddate.com). Here in the central time zone of the U.S., the shortest hour will be at 5:03pm that day. How they, whoever they are, have come up with this time is unknown to me. Probably if someone tried to explain it to me, I’d just get more confused. (I’m not a person of science.)

While I was growing up, my mom and many other adults at the church we attended, theorized that maybe Christmas comes in December because of pagan festival of the sun returning, not because that’s when the Biblical event actually occurred. My mom and the others were saying it was too cold for Mary and Joseph to travel in December. The theory sounded plausible to me at the time and up until the time I moved overseas with Hubby when he was doing active duty in the Air Force. That changed my thinking all together about this.

Being stationed on the Greece island of Crete isn’t all that far away from Israel. I discovered that the climate on Crete was slightly chilly in December, but nothing like most of Europe or the United States. The possibility of Mary and Joseph making their way to Bethlehem in December was not only plausible but probable. It gets pretty hot over there in the summer, so traveling in December would be a much better idea, especially since Mary was pregnant and their mode of transportation was a donkey.

Even though traveling in December would have been better back then, it would mean that much of the journey would be in darkness. If this journey happening in December is true, the paintings, movies and TV shows would be showing the scene correctly then, whether the artists (painters and screenwriters) know it or not.

What do you think about this?


#SoCS — sense/scents/cents

This week’s prompt is to use one or more of these words: sense, scents and cents. Linda also gave out a bonus word — sent. At first, this prompt stumped me. I had to dig deep within the cobwebs of my brain to come up with something. The answer was right there in front of me and yet, I couldn’t see it at first.

#SoCS -- sence/scents/cents
Image provided by
Dani Jace @ https://www.flickr.com/photos/85329395@N04/

The Scents of the Holiday Season

I wonder how many others doing this prompt are centering their post around the holidays. It certainly fits. The scents floating through the air during this time of years is one of the very few things I still like about the season. It use to be a time of love and giving of self. Anymore, all I see is buying, and much of it isn’t even for presents to share with someone else.

When I was in my twenties, I tried selling Avon to make some extra money. It didn’t turn out that way though. Even so, I didn’t lose money either. I came out even. I did learn some things about scents though and how to make the best of a few of them during the holiday season.

Oranges and Cloves

Christmas trees and pets may not get along so well, especial if you’re talking about dogs and cats. The dog wants to lay under the tree, making the skirt smell like dog and maybe ruining a few presents in the process. The cat wants to climb the thing.

If you take an orange, cover it with a design using whole cloves stuck into the peel and either hanging it on the tree or just put it inside the tree, close to the trunk and down near the bottom, the pets are likely to stay away from your beautiful tree. In addition, the cloved orange is going to give the whole room a wonderful spicy aroma.

Blue Spruce Boughs

My mom used to use Douglas Fir boughs to create the holiday atmosphere in the home. Living in Colorado where Douglas Firs can be found all over in the mountain, it was thought to be the way to go. But then a Blue Spruce tree was planted in our yard. It took a few years before the branches were touching the house. When that finally happened, my mom and I would go out there and remove some of those back branches so the siding of the house would be alright.

What a difference in the smell that traveled through our home. The aroma made it instantly Christmas in the house. We just put some boughs over the pictures that hung on the walls. A few years after we started gathering the spruce branches, we decided to go a little bit further. We tie a candy cane to each bough using colorful ribbon.

French Vanilla

After I got a divorce from my first husband, my son and I were renting one half of a duplex. I was still visiting the folks at home and was able to collect some of the spruce boughs. I was still making my clove-scented orange for the tree despite the fact that we didn’t have a pet at the time. But I felt that there was still something missing that would give my son even a better experience of the holiday season.

That’s when I discovered votive candles. I tried the cinnamon but it wasn’t quite right. I tried the peppermint. That definitely wasn’t what I was looking for. Then I tried the French vanilla. That was the one. It gave our humble abode a cozy feeling and the anticipation of something yummy baking.

Some Other Holiday Scents

Here’s some other scents that fill the air during this time of year.

  • Spearmint
  • Ginger
  • Myrrh
  • Frankincense

I think it’s remarkable how scents can effect one’s mood. We are rarely aware of how our mood changes. We just know that we’re smelling something, whether it be good or bad.


Resource: ACHS Health and Wellness Blog

The Drumstick

The Drumstick
Image provided by
@joefoodie @ https://www.flickr.com/photos/montage_man/

I’ve been thinking about this post for a while. Yet, because of the conditioning my upbringing has instilled in me, I just couldn’t see myself even writing this, let alone publishing it, until after the first full week of September.

Last week I had my sixtieth birthday. I figure that in five more years I can declare with pride that I am a senior, an old person, a retiree (I haven’t worked outside the home but I will be eligible for Medicare.).

I’ve talked about my brother’s birthday in this blog. And I even talked about a birthday I had as a kid when I got exactly what I wanted. In that post, I stated I didn’t really remember too much about most of my birthdays, which is true. I don’t remember what I got as presents. I don’t remember anything about the birthdays cards although I always received three of them. As I said in one of these posts, money was tight back then so my brother and I didn’t get too wrapped up in the material stuff concerning those “special days”.

Nevertheless, as much as the family pinched pennies, my mom did try to make our birthdays distinctive. Because my birthday fell on or around Labor Day, the last big whoopty-do of the season, making it exceptional was more of a challenge than my brother’s was.

Approximately five or six miles from our home was a restaurant that catered to families. If I remember right, it was next door to the cinema, which could make an evening especial wonderful. It was called The Drumstick. Its specialty was — you guess it — chicken. I kind of recall there being other main dishes but, because I was interceded in the drumstick, I didn’t pay that much attention.

A hostess sat you at your table or booth and took the order of drinks. She would leave you while you looked at the menu. Yes, very typical of an eatery but this is where the usual stops. Once you had made your selections, you would take one of the forms and the small pencil that were set with the salt, pepper and small vase of flowers at your table. You would check off the items you had chosen, place the form at the end of the table and then, pull the lever that would make a stick go up with a flattened balloon-type thing on the top of it. My brother and I would quarrel a little over who was going to pull the lever despite the fact that it was my birthday so I was the one who was to do this task. Once our dinners were ready, a server would bring them out to us.

The meals there were always good. Because the restaurant attracted families, none of the food had any hot seasonings in it or spices that just wouldn’t agree with a child’s palate. Because there weren’t any waiters or waitress, if you needed something, all you had to do was pull the lever. Presto, a server was there to help you.
Obviously, one of my parents, somehow, ordered something special for me as a dessert. I would be told to pull the lever after the meal. A server would come out of the kitchen with several others behind him or her and a cake that had candles blazing on it. They’d be singing Happy Birthday, as they would walk to our table.

It wasn’t the excitement that happened on my brother’s birthday, but I was always so happy that my mom had tried so hard to make my birthday special for me.


Days with Winnie the Pooh

Days with Winnie the Pooh
Image provided by
Julie Jordan Scott @ http://www.flickr.com/photos/juliejordanscott/

A while ago, I published a post about the Liebster Award. One of the questions I was required to answer was ‘What is your favorite cartoon character?’ My answer was Eeyore from the cartoon series of Winnie the Pooh.

With this said however, I come from a generation when Winnie the Pooh was a book, not a cartoon. Of course, it still is, written by A. A. Milne. The Winnie the Pooh book we had at home was gray in color with a small oval in the middle of the front cover that showed the famous bear.

Unfortunately, the book wasn’t mine, at least not exclusively. My little brother and I had to share it. I still don’t know why I’d get so hyped up at times about this fact. You see, neither of us was old enough to read yet. Mom had complete control over the book and when it was read to us.

I was four years old at the time and my brother was halfway through his year of being one. If my brother had been the type to want to chew on every little thing he touched, I could better understand my reluctance to share ownership with him. Instead, he was the type of baby who cried whenever he had any little ache or pain. As you can well imagine, the only quiet place in the house at that time was in my bedroom or in the dingy basement. I referred my bedroom where I had all of my crayons and coloring books.

Mom liked reading to us, so at promptly 7:00pm, which was after the baths and getting ready for bed, she’d sit on the sofa with the book in her hand. I usually sat on her left side and my brother would lean against the sofa pillows reclining on her right. (Shhh… he never made it through a whole chapter without falling asleep.)

Mom would keep on reading while little brother slept peacefully with one knee up and the other up and crossed over that first one. Sometimes he also had his hands holding each other under his head. Yes, Mom has pictures of this. When I think about it now, I’m not so sure that my brother was ever really a child. The minute he started talking, I don’t remember him crying very much or being grumpy. He was definitely unchild-like.

Oops, I got off the subject.

I liked Piglet better that Winnie just because he was smarter. Let’s face it. Winnie wasn’t one to be clear-headed, whereas Piglet seemed to always have a plausible plan. His plans weren’t as good as Christopher’s was, but worlds better than Winnie’s was.

When I was introduced to Eeyore, I knew I had found my special friend; the one you ask to get a stuffed toy of; the one as a stuffed toy went with you when you had to go visit relatives who didn’t have children to play with. The only thing he ever wanted was to be a whole donkey, which he wasn’t at first. You know, he needed that tail.

I liked Kanga and Roo too, but not quite as much as Eeyore. Roo was such a riot, and so very cute. Tigger was okay but he was a little too boisterous for me to get interested in.

And Christopher Robin? He was okay, although a smidgen dull. However, I can’t leave out this very short short story… One of my cousins married a truck driver whose name was Robin. It wasn’t discovered until after the wedding that his whole name was Christopher Robin. No, his parents didn’t name him that. The parents gave that honor to his older brother who, of course, loved the Winnie the Pooh Tales.

Do you have a favorite Winnie the Pooh character?