Wishing for Rain on Vacation:

I love Door County. If I can’t live here, I want to at least visit it as often as I possibly can.

We’ve fixed up a small camper to the point where it’s nicer than my house and I don’t want to leave. It’s comfortable, all the pleasures of home while still being able to move it to where ever we want to go. To me, that’s living! I love to travel. I’d go anywhere, except maybe the Middle East, right now. I want to go to Prague in the most horrible way. But I don’t think we can pull the camper there.

Door County is a nice destination for our maiden voyage. We already know our way around and even have some friends to visit, if we can pull ourselves away from the camper. I tell you, it’s nice. The bed is comfortable, the space is limited, but it’s close by. Craig even put in a little chemical toilet and it’s been ok. A little weird at first, but once you get used to it… we’re still close enough to the facilities that showers are just a walk away. Oh, and did I mention that we are totally alone here? Everyone we talk to gave their concern about finding a camping spot, but I wan convinced that it would be fine. Turns out, we are the only campers here, besides a few in the big rigs at the Seasonal spots across the grounds. We have the run of the place. We even joked about picking a new site every night, or sitting at a different picnic table or use a different fire pit. We’ve been at places where there were just a few campers before, but never being the only ones!! I could really get used to this!! I know, I know… It will never happen again!

I wanted to do some writing as well up here, but the weather has been so nice, that I haven’t had much of an opportunity. And when I did have time, we were watching movies on the laptop, so that didn’t work either. How often does one wish for rain while on vacation?

But I don’t know what to write anyway. I’ve been thinking of the Engine Driver, but I’m at an impasse: I’m standing on one side and the characters are on the other side, staring at me, waiting to see what I’ll do next. I’m kind of standing there too! Staring at me, waiting, wondering what I’ll do next. It would be nice to know, but I promise, they will be the first ones to know when I get there.

I’ve been trying to read, too, while on vacation. It’s hard. I often just stare out into the picture before me: at the beach, water lapping the rocks or the sand, the gulls crying overhead, the wind gently blowing through the rushes, or just the sun warm on my face. I could sit and do nothing for hours. I want to type, but then I’d miss what’s not going on around me. I’d be lost in a different world rather than being lost in the world where I drove many miles to get to. I’d miss the forest walks with the ground blanketed in forget-me-nots and fresh ferns.

I’m lost between worlds. I want to be in both at once, at the same time. I guess I’ll just have to move up here so I can get saturated in one world, sending me in peace to the other. Ugh, I’d still have to get a job, though, wouldn’t I? I guess my best hope is to just wish for rain.


Working from home…

…and getting nothing done. The cats are happy that I’m here, I’m happy I am here, but my work is suffering. I have all the essentials, coffee, music, and nice atmosphere, but the cats, I tell you, are not used to having mommy home and therefore, want her attention. I don’t mind, so much. I miss them and it’s nice to spend some time with my babies. But now they are done, and sleeping the fun off and I have work to do. So, what am I going to write about? No idea. I do my blog post now for Patch.com for Port Washington/Saukville, Wisconsin, and I tell you, I’m about blogged out. With that one, I need to be professional, kind and well spoken. This one can just go to shit if I really want it to. Hmmm…. ideas are starting to roll. Next time…

I need to have three different blog forums: one to be nice, one to be real and one to be not so nice. Oh, the energy it will take to do all three. (On the hunt for more Kleenex: did I tell you that I’m also allergic to my precious angels?)

But I am writing. I told my writer’s group on Tuesday that I have a legitimate excuse for not having anything prepared. Sort of. I am working on the Engine Driver. I’m further than what I have posted, about 217 pages into it all ready. I am also toying with the idea to put Idlewilde on ebook format and send it out, see what it does. It will take a lot of work to promote it, but it just might be able to work.  (Whoops, Kali is up and wants a pet. Now the keyboard is all full of cat hair.)

And I have lost my thought. Oh well. Like I said, I love the cats and don’t mind the interruptions. Perhaps this is why I don’t work that much from home anymore. Besides, I can’t make a Soy Latte here, just plain ol’ coffee with heavy creamer.

Why the ebook? you may ask? The library I work for has delved into the world of e-readers recently and I have been lured into its hypnotic hold. I like them, not sure if I want to purchase one yet, but I like them. And, as a librarian, I need to be well versed in these things. I do believe that the world of print and the world of ebooks can live together peacefully, if not co-habitable. Both have positives and negatives. In fact, I’ve even purchased a few books online that I can either read on my computer or on my iphone. The phone is very handy for at night when I can’t sleep and don’t’ want to turn the light on to wake Craig. I haven’t finished a book yet, because I’m not entirely thrilled with reading by phone light, but perhaps when we go camping I will want to even more.

Besides all the talk about people selling their books online for thousands of bucks, I just want my book to be available and out there. I’m not so much in a rush as I am anxious. And I have heard of people getting a better shot at being published by a traditional publisher if they see that their books are marketable and well received. Ok, it’s the “well received” part that worries me. But my mommy likes it!! That’s all that really matters, right??

I would love the feed back, if you have the time.

Thanks world…

I think Spring has sprung.

If you don’t believe me, ask the flowers. I’m sure they wouldn’t be blooming if they weren’t 100% sure that it was time. So the weather has been crappy, it’s always crappy. And if it is a good day, you’re at work and can’t enjoy it, so just shut up. As for me, I admit, it is spring. There will be no more snow to ski upon, no more snow to snowshoe through, no more beautiful snowflakes flittering to the ground. Boo hoo. I love winter, if you haven’t guessed already. But it is time for spring, time for us to move on, and as the circle keeps on turning, winter will be back. Eventually. I can be patient, unlike the others who complain that it’s not really spring out side. It is. I’ve accepted it, and so should you.

But enough about that.

My coffee house choice for today is Stone Creek Coffee Roasters in Glendale. It’s right across the street from the Rheumatic Disease Center where I will be getting my infusion in a few hours. It’s a nice place, good coffee, but they don’t serve food, unless you consider muffins and cupcakes lunch. Ok, so I got a blueberry muffin. I always get so hungry sitting for two hours, unable to move in the Center. It’s good, moist, probably about 600 calories for half of it, but I’ll take it. For now. Coffee is nice and warm, although it happens to be warm outside today, with a high chance of thunderstorms as we had yesterday. I’m fine with that. I just wish it wouldn’t flood anymore. We had visited the western side of Wisconsin several times and every time this year we cringe when we hear that the Mississippi river is flooding. We’ve seen the flood lines of previous years and hope that everyone is safe. The weather can be so beautiful, yet so terrifying at times. I guess the worst we go through are tornadoes. We’ve had some hit close to home, but luckily, we haven’t had any mishaps, beside a cow trough landing in my sister’s yard. Nothing like the southern states and the home of my friend Sean Hoade. His house was destroyed, and I feel destroyed along with him.

People don’t understand how good they got it. Why is this? Why do we take things for granted, so often and so easily? Why can’t we just take a moment, appreciate what we have, and show a little compassion for when things don’t go according to plan. I don’t have a plan. Maybe that’s why I can appreciate the spring flowers and not bitch so much that it’s still in the 50s. I don’t care. What I do care about is how my dad’s feeling today, where are my friends going to sleep tonight, will I have enough money to get gas so that I can drive down to Glendale for my infusion…

What do these people not have to worry about that all they have to worry about is the weather?

Two sides to everything…

So, I think by now you’ve gathered that this is indeed my writing site, my dark and mournful side- without it, I’d have nothing to write about! But there is another side to me. No really! There is! I can write light, happy, even funny posts now and again. For example, Patch.com for Port Washington/Saukville, Wisconsin, has allowed me to be a blogger for the site. I’m not sure where to find it, exactly, being that it just launched yesterday, but I’m there! And because I am connected with the Port Washington Library, they have agreed that I can write on all things books, movies, music and the community. Oh Joy!! I love talking, and now writing, about this stuff. It’s what I do! So check me out there if you’re the least bit curious about my lighter writing side. I hope you’ll be impressed. I know my mom will!! 😉
“A Royal Wedding in Wisconsin”

With one word…

…the world comes crashing down. With one word, one sentence, a good day can turn into a bad one, a smile can fade quickly into a frown and tears now flood the bath with cold water. How fragile one’s world is, like a thin glass sphere carefully balanced in the goblin king’s hands.

Memory is a world in which we cannot control. Either we remember or we don’t. It can be a frighting state to be in, not knowing what is going on around you. I feel that way every day- what is truth, and what is a lie. We can only sort it out with what we believe, which is doubly hard when you really don’t believe in anything. A continuation of the story can be found under the tab Ecritures. It’s not much, but please don’t forget about it.

Things written, but not yet read….

Things I’ve written, things I’ve said, things I’ve thought about and tried to remember to write down, all stare at me as I stare out the window, wondering when they are going to be brought to life. Funny thing is that I’m thinking the same thing as I stare into the world outside, wondering when the world will write me, when the world will let me live the life I want, not just the one I’m given, because that one is for shit and I really don’t want it anymore.

I write and I feel good, but I know I’d feel better once I finish and send it out into the world. Do what it may, I know it may fail, but at least I will have tried. Who knows, maybe people will like it. I do, and I’m a picky reader. I used to wonder if it was just based on luck, because I’m just about as unlucky as they come. It would explain a lot, but then again, I really don’t want to lay my life into superstitions. That would defeat my “free will” speech. I also think that there is way too much to do in one life. How the hell am I to just pick one? and maybe something on the side for a hobby? Crap. I want to do so much, with so little time and money, and now, health. So I sit at my computer and hack out a few words that may or may not make sense to anyone passing by. Sorry if it doesn’t: welcome to my world.

Check out the tab above labeled Ecritures: I found the beginning of a story I started writing a while ago. It wasn’t meant for anything epic, but I thought it may be kind of fun to write. I spent quite of bit of my teen years in cemeteries, getting to know the residents, and heck, if I was going to be spending eternity somewhere, I’d really like to get to know my neighbors.  Enjoy. Or not….


I can feel my eyes sinking into my face, sinking further in as if they were weighted down with cement blocks. Can no one see this? My face is sagging down as gravity pulls on me with the weight of my sorrow, my pain, my life. I’ve said all of this before, nothing is new. Nothing is new in my life because it is the same sorrow that plagues me every day, every moment of my life. I am haunted, I am haunted by my pretend ghosts, I am haunted by my real ghosts that appear to only me, no one else. You think you are strong, but it all comes crashing down with just the slightest hint of pain, the slightest hint of the sorrow that you’ve pushed behind your mind, trying to keep it at bay but you can feel it banging on the wall to get out, to get out and take over like it has before. The pills you’ve used as bricks are disintegrating from the rain of tears you have held back. The medicine goes slowly through your veins, drop by drip, until the bag is as empty as you are. In a short time, you have to get up and do it all again. Nothing changes, nothing is new. It’s all been done before, it’s been done a million times by you or by someone else, nothing has changed.

I wrote this yesterday while I was getting my Remicade infusion. After the water works shed during Grey’s Anatomy and lots of thoughts on Kathryn, I feel a bit better, still a little anti-social but otherwise mood-wise elevated. I have bruises all over, one from the infusion, another rather large on on my knee- from who know how- and several others that have magically appeared from nowhere, sore on my nose (again!) and gurgling from the throat, probably from another lymph node infection in my face. I feel like the body is breaking apart. But I have lost another 7 pounds in the last month. So I got that going for me…

It will pass, so don’t worry about me. Just take comfort in the poetry of pain, see the beauty of it, and be glad that you didn’t think of it first.


My horrible Sunday Night…

Things happen in threes, I told myself when I realized that a second thing went missing. The first thing is a DVD from the library. I can’t find it anywhere. It shouldn’t have gone far, but it was not where I had it last. Gone. WTF?? Ok, so now I can’t find my blue sweater. I just had it, thought I put it in the laundry, did ALL of the laundry and it was not there. Where is it? So I yell at the gremlins to return my stuff and I think I pissed them off because all of sudden, after a nice dinner with Craig at the Charcoal Grill, I noticed my ring was missing. My ring. My LEFT Hand ring. The one Craig gave me for Christmas, a one-of-a-kind white gold with the pearl that my brother Charlie made just for us. Gone. We looked everywhere. Outside, inside, cars, called restaurant, looked in bags, pockets and even behind the bed where I was fixing the sheets just moments before. I start to cry. I ask the gremlins to keep the damn DVD, but please return my ring. Craig continues to search. He plunges himself into the downstairs closets where I was ruffling through earlier in the day while I numbly look into a basket I thought maybe that stupid DVD may have fallen into. Well, damn. I didn’t find the DVD, but I found the ring. I wonder, will the gremlins return my other items as well? Maybe if I start to cry…

Unscheduled Vacation

I know, I’ve been away. Miss me much? Nah, I didn’t think so! Well, you know how much I’ve been talking about cross country skiing? I went for an hour one afternoon with my sister and our friend Sue. They did great, and I did great too, trying to catch up. Oh I had fun, sliding and shushing and getting my heart rate up like I’m not supposed to be! It’s true. With the RA, getting my heart rate up is not a great idea due to my energy issues. But boy, did I have a great time. After, however, I didn’t have as much fun. Let’s see… that was almost 4 weeks ago and it was just the end of last week when I felt like going for a walk. It exhausted me to the point of not being able or even wanting to do anything other than breathe. And that was even questionable on some days. I wasn’t even writing much during that time either. My days off that I like to spend at the coffee shop turned into yawn fests and quality time with my beloved blankie. Bala was happy to have me home, but other than that, nothing got done. Needless to say, the weight loss stalled. But I woke up the other morning and did some leg lifts, some low impact squats- mind you, I DID them, not just thought about doing it. It felt good. And I can’t wait to do them again. Butt’s a little tired, so maybe I’ll go on the balance ball and do some faux sit-ups. They don’t require much energy, much dexterity, and therefore are a nice way to ease myself back into “working out” the way I should be.

I honestly thought I was going to be ok the day after the skiing. I didn’t get sick. That’s right- sick. In times before this, if I over did it, I was so sick for a day or two after. I had the flu without actually having the flu. It was horrible and when it didn’t come, I really thought I was in the clear. It was the eternal fatigue that got me. Bastards. But at least I was able to do it, have a lot fun doing it, and hopefully will be able to do it again.

I did have some progress with Idlewilde. I’ve read through it, edited it and sent off to two of my good friends, English Major and Journalism Major. I love them both for so many reasons! The mind has been churning over The Engine Driver and a new one I have been muddling over, title yet to be revealed. I had a dream the other night about being pregnant. I have those dreams often when I’m working on something new. A friend once said that it was my creativity that I am “gestating”. Makes sense. I remember telling her, it was a girl, to stay where she was so she could grow and develop because I wanted her to be strong and intelligent when she does finally come out. It’s exactly how I feel about the new baby.

April is host to another writing frenzy. I had so much fun last November, I just might have to finish the story I started during that time. Get the gears moving, need to think. Appropriate time of year to thaw out and return to the land of the living. Just in time to finish my novel about dead people!!

Getting back to writing….

….and reporting on how my winter activities are going. I went snow shoeing with a friend this morning. It was nice to be out in my winter wonderland, snow covered hills, grown trees and a nice quiet solitude. Damn, I should have taken pictures. But just imagine with me, the snow covered ground, rising and falling over the landscape, the evergreens holding on to snow of the last storm, the naked maples reaching up to stitch earth and sky together, melding them into the same palette of winter hues. I love snow. The beauty, the rest I find in snow; I know it’s hard for people to understand, even life long Wisconsinites find me a bit odd, but that’s besides the point. I love snow. I can’t describe it other than it is my restful spot, my recluse, my heaven. The color, the white, blank canvass with the edges of tiny crystals catching the sunlight (when there is sunlight), the sleek cover over the hills before my shoes break up the uniformity. The starch-ness, the starkness, the bleakness- yes there is beauty in death. Perhaps this is my afterlife for a while, a place of repose where I don’t have to worry so much about life. I freeze a little with the winter, I slow down and hibernate, escaping the daily life of the rest of the world. I can’t stay there unfortunately, because for some reason, the world continues to turn with or without me, and if I don’t come back, well, I may as well stay in my igloo. And as appealing as that may be, I know I can’t stay long. So I relish in my snow, my get-a-way, my sanctuary, my paradise.

I think I could live on Antarctica. I think I could handle the 365 days of snow. Yes, I would have to wear a warm jacket and gloves and whatnot, but I do that now. And yes, I like spring and summer and fall, I’m not a total robot, but I am completely content with snow- especially in winter. A lot of people around here are getting sick of the snow: interpretation- they are getting sick of shoveling and driving in the storms. Agreed. It’s not the funnest aspect of winter, but what is the scenery in the country, the hills of smooth vanilla ice cream, the rivers of reflective ice, the beauty, oh the beauty of winter. Behold!

So what if you have to wear a scarf. They come in pretty colors now.

I always said I had the body for winter; the big lumpy sweaters hiding the waistline, the turtlenecks that hide the second chin, the long pants, the covering of everything, head to toe. But as I’ve mentioned before, I am losing the weight, and I even started wearing shorts last year. Imagine! ME in shorts! It felt liberating, and hopefully this summer, those shorts will be too big to wear again. But in the meantime, I don my favorite jeans and my big fluffy warm sweater and curl up with my blankie and my Craigie in front of the fireplace, sipping on wine or hot chocolate.

How could you not love the winter?