tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39385221493550600792024-03-12T20:49:12.538-07:00MARY J HICKS ... the Red River Valley.Words, paint & pictures
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-34119901504729474222014-02-25T17:41:00.001-08:002015-04-09T04:44:38.979-07:00MEMORIES ABOUND...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0cZiQ_2fvBA/Uw1DR6v3eBI/AAAAAAAAAlI/b5aw9Uf_c0Q/s1600/IMG_1963_2_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0cZiQ_2fvBA/Uw1DR6v3eBI/AAAAAAAAAlI/b5aw9Uf_c0Q/s1600/IMG_1963_2_2.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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This still life is full of memories... the old letter is from my grandmother, Annie Pope, written to her mother, when Annie was a young wife and away from home for the first time. The cup and saucer was a gift from my sister, Dorothy, and the silver letter opener is an antique that I bought for myself.<br />
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The gold locket is an antique that a friend gave me many birthdays ago, and the hand painted china tray was from a girl that worked for me for years. The tray is part of a dresser set.<br />
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The dried flowers were from someone I loved very much. It's all sitting in the middle of my bed while I play with memories.<br />
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Back to my website : <a href="http://www.maryjhicks.com/">www.maryjhicks.com</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-82349796985484437032014-02-25T10:47:00.001-08:002015-04-09T04:51:43.331-07:00TIME FOR A COUNTRY WALK.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CceBWDcUmDo/Uwzei_3BCII/AAAAAAAAAk4/OkesPTzVU5M/s1600/DSC_1365_3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CceBWDcUmDo/Uwzei_3BCII/AAAAAAAAAk4/OkesPTzVU5M/s1600/DSC_1365_3.JPG" height="640" width="446" /></a></div>
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This gray, dreary morning makes me long for the warm days of summer, well, spring at least.</div>
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I look at this photo I made several summers ago and I can feel that golden warmth on my face. I remember how good the sun felt on my back.</div>
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Until I'm reminded of why I'm hunkering in the shade with my camera, looking out to the sun on the grasses. It was hot! It was almost a hundred degrees at five o'clock, that perfect day on a Texas ranch...my shirt was wet and my back burned like...</div>
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Looking back seems to blur our vision and soften the harsh realities of mundane days—and that's okay, every now and then, blurred vision works to our good. It helps us enjoy our days—those behind us and those before us.</div>
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So, here is to smiling at the days behind us, and to those ahead of us. :-)</div>
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<b>Have a happy day and keep God in your plans . . . :-)</b></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-75769309226527502472014-02-02T11:35:00.000-08:002015-04-09T04:57:59.643-07:00CREATIVITY at it's best...I was asked if oil painting was hard to learn. I said, "Yes, it is."<br />
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Now those of you who know me, know I could never stop there.<br />
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Me, the person who loves information dumps, whether giving or receiving them. But the question made me think hard about it. The person who asked the question, Karoline Barrett, is a writer with a new novel, <b>The Art of Being Rebekkah, </b>it's hot off the press. If you like woman's fiction, check it out at her site—<a href="http://karolinebarrett.com/"> http://karolinebarrett.com/</a><br />
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Several of us, as yet unpublished writers, were telling Lizbeth ( aka, Karoline Barrett ) how happy we were for her, and we teased that we were green with envy. ( Really, we were just teasing... )<br />
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Lizbeth came back and said she wished she could paint like I do—and asked the question about learning to paint.<br />
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It shouldn't matter whether a subject is hard. Life is hard.<b> A love of learning,</b><b> time for study, and with a strong desire</b>,<b> any given subject can be learned.</b><br />
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Meet my young art student, Lesly King.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RHqnpPLcuXw/Uu5sR4X8HEI/AAAAAAAAAjA/N76ANrmORe0/s1600/_DSC3234_2_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RHqnpPLcuXw/Uu5sR4X8HEI/AAAAAAAAAjA/N76ANrmORe0/s1600/_DSC3234_2_2.JPG" height="488" width="640" /></a></div>
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I really don't teach much anymore, but I couldn't say no to Les. He's eager to learn and is willing to erase and make changes as many times as needed to improve his work. He never whines or complains.<br />
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Les is ten-years old. He may decide any day that something else is more exciting than art lessons, and that's the way of his age—it's what growing up is all about—learning, making choices and exploring. It's an exciting time.<br />
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But, as adults, we can have the same excitement and spirit of learning as children do. And if you don't have that excitement to write, paint, photograph, sew, garden or whatever you choose, every single day ( there'll be days you <b>must</b> do laundry ), then maybe you should take a lesson from the kids—search for that thing that excites you. You'll know when you find it, cause' when you do,<b> it won't let go of <i>you</i>. :-)</b><br />
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Yes, it's hard learning to paint, to write, and all the above mentioned. But, if you <b>really</b> want to do it, you can. And who knows, you may end up with something really nice.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W_JGXpaNzns/Uu5y6zUfYEI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/vF_Hc2WkdhY/s1600/_DSC3240_2_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W_JGXpaNzns/Uu5y6zUfYEI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/vF_Hc2WkdhY/s1600/_DSC3240_2_2.JPG" height="416" width="640" /></a></div>
Like Lesly did with this pastel painting. Les is a man's man, and he not only draws well, he sometimes leads singing at church on Wednesday nights.<br />
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<b>God's blessings on all your efforts,</b><br />
Mare:-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-80197057530133768622014-01-06T12:42:00.002-08:002015-04-09T05:03:50.981-07:00Looking Forward to 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A whole new year lies ahead. I feel it in my bones, it'll be a good year. I didn't make my usual resolutions, instead, I 'intentioned' several goals. Here are a few of them:<br />
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<li>Diligent Bible study</li>
<li>Healthy eating</li>
<li>Honesty in sharing my thoughts on writing ( and everything else! )</li>
<li>To listen carefully to the people around me... </li>
<li>Do paintings for my book covers</li>
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These are the important ones, don't think you'd be interested in the others.<br />
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I intend to remember that old saying that variety is the spice of life. That makes sense. I enjoy the variety of wearing different colors and different styles throughout the week. And I like Mexican food one day, Italian food the next, with beans and cornbread worked in about Friday evening. </div>
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Life is made up of good and bad. A friend used to say, 'Chicken one day, feathers the next'. I'll embrace the bad as well as the good, knowing this is natures balance. I'll Laugh at things that go wrong and celebrate even the smallest victories, like when I shuffle through the mail, I frown at the tax notice and smile big at the card from a friend... yep, variety is good, important. </div>
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The unpleasant stuff makes me appreciate the good. I smile at bad.<br />
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In 2014, when I get a rejection letter instead of an acceptance on the manuscript I slaved over, poured my life's blood into, created characters I loved and lived with, went through trials and disappointments with them, and finally, after months or years of sitting hunched over the laptop, I'm able to guide my precious people down the road of 'happiness ever after', all the way to, 'The End'...<br />
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Where was I going with this...? Oh, yes. I intend to remember when I send my manuscript off, that life is more interesting with the variety of ups and downs. I expect downs. The down times stretch me to work harder, study more and learn to take it with a smile. It's called, 'Paying your dues', another part of nature. It's only after many rejections that a writer can<i> truly</i> appreciate that acceptance letter when it finally lands in the mailbox...<br />
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Wait, something is pricking me. Ouch, ouch, stop that! <br />
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My conscience. I've fed it well and it won't let me stray, even for the sake of prose. It reminded me of my intention to be totally honest in sharing my thoughts in 2014.<br />
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To be totally honest, I want that acceptance letter. Now! I already work hard and stretch myself. I don't need the downs, I don't want any rejections, I'll take all yesses, please! And I'll take my variety in the books I read and the foods I eat and the friends I make.<br />
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Can I honestly say I'd be bored and unappreciative if everything I submitted was snatched up and my mail was flooded with double book contracts and large advance checks? No, I can't honestly say that—I can't even imagine it!<br />
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But I can honestly say, I love writing. The hard work and hours of study are pure pleasure. Everyone can always use a little more cash. But God knows me, He knows me very well, and He knows I'm being honest when I say that the main reason for the cash is because it's what validates my worth as a creative being. When another person likes what I created well enough to spend their hard earned money to own it, that tells me my work is of worth to that person.<br />
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I love giving. I'd be happy giving my writing away. But when you give something that your thoughts and hands have created, you don't really know if the recipient likes it, or if they're just being polite.<br />
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But when a person<i> buys it, </i>they make the <i>choice</i> of ownership and that proves that my writing has worth, at least to that person.<br />
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The experts say the number one fear for most people is public speaking, and that the number one craving or need for most people is appreciation and validation.<br />
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We humans <i>are</i> funny creatures. <br />
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MaryJ,<br />
<b>Wishing God 's blessings on you.</b><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-11703451394440081442013-11-21T07:43:00.000-08:002013-11-21T08:18:25.168-08:00A TINY SAMPLE...Thought I'd post a sample of some of pieces I'll be showing at the Canvas & Clay art show. It looks like the weather is not going to cooperate with us this year—most times we are blessed with wonderful fall leaves and cool brisk weather, without the storms and heavy rain.<br />
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We'll do the best we can and still be grateful for the rain that comes with the other. :-)<br />
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'Texas Clouds' <br />
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'What was that?'</div>
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'Deserted Cow Barn'</div>
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'Asleep For The Winter'</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-4128992918673422622013-10-31T15:11:00.001-07:002013-11-01T05:35:09.298-07:00Beautiful Oklahoma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wouldn't you love to look out your bathroom window and see this view? Sure you would. This is just one view that Jackie Anderson enjoys from her home. Jackie's entire yard—several acres it could be, I'm not sure, is landscaped just like this. Wherever you go, whichever way you turn, this is what you see.<br />
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Or this view from her bedroom window. Jackie shares her yard with the Garden Club members from time to time. I remember the first time I had lunch in Jackie's yard. My, my, my.<br />
She has her own private hide-away and that's where the luncheon was set up. Who ever! ( I mean, really, who ever? ) Just think, your own private place to sneak off and read all day...<br />
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A large covered deck situated on a rise, caught the cool breeze. The breeze gently ruffled the snowy white table-cloths around our knees as we sat at the large round tables. Soft cloth napkins, pretty china and delicate stemware vied for attention over the flowers and trees spread out far and wide beyond the deck. It reminded me of the movie, Out Of Africa. I pretended a little. Need I say that I enjoyed the afternoon tremendously. The food was delicious, the talk lively and the view, well, you can see for yourself.<br />
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I have to admit I was a little distracted. I kept glancing into the sky, knowing, hoping that at any minute I'd see a small speck. It would grow larger, then I'd hear the engine humming, and then Robert Redford would do a perfect landing in the trees and roll to a stop just below the deck and hop out of the cockpit and... oh, sorry, I got carried away. The garden club ladies were fun too.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-55853892139185358392013-10-12T11:32:00.001-07:002013-10-18T06:38:37.582-07:00CANVAS & CLAY ~ Promo photo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NWerOyusKP0/UlmMvRW_4mI/AAAAAAAAAeo/IM22tSsnQgA/s1600/_DSC2473_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NWerOyusKP0/UlmMvRW_4mI/AAAAAAAAAeo/IM22tSsnQgA/s640/_DSC2473_3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Canvas & Clay art group needed a new promo shot. We decided to go casual. Our show is called Art in The Barn. We actually dress real spiffy for the opening reception. LtoR : Jan Bateman, Marsha McDonald, Dr. Leea Arnold and Mary Hicks.<br />
We're a little far back—after all the show is about us and our work. Not the landscape.We'll crop in a tad.<br />
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Hmmm, Closer up. Easier to find fault. Maybe a different shot?<br />
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Dr. Arnold doesn't have her signature smile and Marsha's elbow is nudging me out of the picture. Well, one more?<br />
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Come on girls, get serious! The pizza's waiting!<br />
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This will have to do! Problem is, this art group has too much fun ANYTIME they get together!<br />
We have a great show every year—standing room only. Our guests seem to enjoy the show as much as we do. Anyone interested can email for more information and directions.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-37866778018441240082013-09-27T07:30:00.002-07:002013-10-03T05:55:45.529-07:00A TRIBUTE TO SPECIAL FRIENDS.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Recently two of my friends experienced the sorrow of losing their beloved horses.<br />
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Kay Marshall's Stormy and Marsha McDonald's Tango.<br />
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Stormy and Tango were not just horses. They were friends to Kay and, Marsha. Companions.<br />
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If you've never confided in a beloved horse or dog and for some people their cat, you don't know the closeness you can feel for these large hearted friends.<br />
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Stormy was fun to photograph. I remember his spirit and energy and the glow of his copper coat. kay commissioned me to paint Stormy's portrait. it was a fun painting to do. The photo of me working on it was taken by Scott Myers.<br />
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Tango was one of my first 'bare-back' rides. He was so easy and kind to me, a novice rider. He seemed to know my fears and carried me gently. At Pecan Valley Ranch, Tango become known as, 'the baby sitter' because he looked out for the new colts and fillies.<br />
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I was fortunate to know both these wonderful guys. When I first heard of the loss of each, I found myself thinking of them through out the day. I knew the sad feelings my friends would be dealing with.<br />
Both Stormy and Tango had good homes, maybe even as close to 'horse heaven' as could be found here in this world.<br />
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I imagine Stormy and Tango now with pegasus wings, still full of spirit and showing off together in that special pasture. These wonderful creatures were put here to serve in loyalty and friendship to mankind.<br />
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I believe God created special rewards for these servants, just as He has for us, when our service is finished in this world.<br />
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Marsha and Tango<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-43403110373595475162013-09-20T05:28:00.000-07:002013-09-20T17:26:17.363-07:00Do it for the love of it...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
When I first saw this cartoon, I laughed and said, 'yeah, that's what I want!' I sent it around to friends that I knew would get a grin out of it too.<br />
<br />
It was so cute, I posted it where I could see it often. But it's given me pause more than once. When I read the whining of a would-be writer who hasn't paid their dues yet...we all know what the dues are. Many, many hours of writing, the same number of hours editing and rewriting and then many, many, many rejection letters. I lose patience with whining over one rejection letter. Or two. Or two dozen. I really don't know when whining is allowed. Maybe when we've paid dues several times over.<br />
<br />
And even then, only to the dearest and closest of sisters or friends.<br />
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I won't lie and say I've never whined. I have. But not much. By the time I decided to try my hand at writing, something I'd always wanted to do, I had already learned about rejection. I knew what to expect. Years of oil painting taught me about rejection.<br />
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Painting and writing travel the same bumpy road. Every snag, each twist and turn is paralleled in the these two difficult crafts. I chose to love both. Or they chose me.<br />
<br />
Whatever I do, I do it not just for the monetary, but simply because I love doing it. That is the buffer to rejection. When you love what you're doing, the joy of the doing is greater than the pain of rejection.<br />
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Back to the cartoon. Do whatever you do for the love of doing it... never tire of learning and growing. And you'll be happier with whatever follows.<br />
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Have a great day!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-58567595284584817232013-09-06T11:15:00.000-07:002013-09-11T12:30:52.577-07:00Don't fence me in...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sounds of an old western song vaguely comes to my ears anytime I stand outside a fence. Do you hear it? I can't remember all the words, just the part, 'don't fence me in'... if I hum the tune a few minutes, a tall cowboy in a white hat rides by...<br />
<br />
Fencing serves several purposes. To keep you in, to keep you out or just simply to be decorative. It depends on how you look at it or on which side of the fence you stand. I really like old iron fences and if I could afford one, or could even find that kind of fencing, I'd have it all around my big yard.<br />
<br />
My fence would simply be decorative. The gate would always be open to those coming for coffee and a chat.<br />
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A fence puts me in mind of boundaries. It lets me know where one property ends and another begins. Boundaries are not always so clearly defined as an iron fence around something. I learned from an early age about limits, and 'invisible' fences. I knew what was allowed and what was not. As children, our parents set the the fence line.<br />
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Grandmother's tall bed with the fluffy feather mattress, and a snowy white covering did not have a fence around it. But I knew not to sit on it. And when I did, I also knew the price I'd pay. That hurt!<br />
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But don't you think most things are like that? We know the boundaries. We know the price we'll pay. We know the pain.<br />
<br />
Yet we ignore the 'fences' that surround many areas in our lives.<br />
<br />
There are boundaries as to which movies I watch, boundaries on my speech, the books I read and the way I dress. Even the way I spend my time. I've often wished there was an iron fence that would stop me by force when I push against it. But that's not the way.<br />
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The guide book, the Bible, places the boundaries in my life now. God sets the fence line. With a desire in my heart to please Him, and a prayer on my lips to live within the boundaries He has set for me, I have the hope of seeing those 'invisible' fences more clearly.<br />
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Have a wonderful day!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-57792730760225734502013-08-23T14:15:00.001-07:002013-09-05T06:26:36.885-07:00Replenish daily...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Several weeks ago I stood at my front door and watched it rain.<br />
Nothing exceptional in this, except it's August, in Oklahoma. My front yard looked almost tropical.<br />
<br />
Oklahoma in August, tropical? Those words don't go together.<br />
<br />
Brown, crisp, Augusts from the past came to mind; when nothing bloomed, and grasshoppers feasted on anything with even a hint of life clinging to it.<br />
<br />
As I watched, the earth was being replenished with life saving water. Just water. Which to my yard is the difference between life and death. I watched the rain pour off the roof, and gave thanks for it.<br />
<br />
Thoughts of the way I too need to be replenished, like my plants, came to mind.<br />
<br />
The important, life-saving things all come from God, our creator. Water, oxygen, sunshine, and his word, are what keeps me from dying a physical and spiritual death.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, not like with the rain, I have a choice. I can choose each day to be replenished or not. I make the decision to take the time to talk with my Lord, to study his word and stay close to him through prayer. I choose his way.<br />
<br />
It is my choice. He doesn't force it on me, and he doesn't bestow it on me just because I'm a really nice person.<br />
<br />
The rain is gone, back to sunshine and hair-dryer wind... I enjoy looking at the photo when all was wet, and tropical in Oklahoma on a cool August day.<br />
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Have a wonderful day full of good choices! :-)<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-71943918007460704602013-07-30T04:56:00.003-07:002013-08-03T09:50:01.606-07:00 ROMANCE IN OKLAHOMA! - Tina Radcliffe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Recently a writer friend, Nancy Connally, shared two books with me that she thought I would enjoy.<br />
<br />
Thank you Nancy, you were right! I did enjoy.<br />
<br />
The books are, OKLAHOMA REUNION and THE RANCHER'S REUNION by Tina Radcliffe.<br />
<br />
Being a native Okie, I especially enjoyed reading OKLAHOMA REUNION. It takes place in Okie land. The characters move about in places I'm familiar with, the Tulsa State Fair for example.<br />
<br />
Oklahomans and Texans like their state fairs. I'm smiling thinking about the fun times.<br />
<br />
Do you enjoy reading romance with a good story plot? Characters you can root for? An ending to make you sigh? And when you've finished the book, you want to pass it on to someone else to enjoy? Well, feel free to pass these two books on to daughters and friends. A fun, satisfying read from start to finish.<br />
<br />
If this is your kind of reading, then Tina is an author you'll want to add to your list of good reads.<br />
<br />
You can always find Tina over at http://www.seekerville.blogspot.com/, a very active member she is too!<br />
<br />
Tina has a new book coming out late August. The title is intriguing, ROSETTI CURSE. I'm wondering, is it a mystery romance, hmmm?<br />
<br />
And... Woman's World is publishing her short romance in the August 22 issue. Watch for it!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-57601271502140687762013-07-23T16:46:00.001-07:002013-07-24T06:52:47.127-07:00RIVER WALK - SAN ANTONIO, TX<b><i>RWA CONVENTION SITE FOR 2014 - SAN ANTONIO, TX</i></b><br />
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Photos from the last time I had mexican food on the River Walk. The temperature was hotter than the food! But it was fun... :-)<br />
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Evening coming on... The lights on the river are very pretty.<br />
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This was cool.<br />
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I got soooo tired!<br />
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In the mission walks.<br />
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The River Walk is so colorful...<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-11720111914622699632013-07-17T12:44:00.002-07:002013-07-24T06:52:24.795-07:00SPIKE'S DILEMMA...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Poor Spike. He's loyal to both houses. But it's hard guarding two yards at the same time. When he's in my front yard, he worries about what's going on in Ruthy's yard.<br />
<br />
Any little noise and he runs to check out what's<br />
happening in whichever yard he's not in.<br />
<br />
I know how he feels. I find myself doing the same thing. Busy with a hands-on-project I often find my mind just as busy, only on a different project!<br />
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Some activities leave my mind free to work on mental projects. Pulling weeds, brushing my teeth and doing the dishes don't require focus.<br />
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But some projects do require my full attention. I don't mean it's not possible to do them with my attention on something else. Far from it.<br />
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I mean some things require, and deserve, my full attention.<br />
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I've listed some subjects I find worthy of the effort it takes to keep a single-minded focus while engaged in, to achieve the best, and desired results.<br />
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Bible study.<br />
Listening to the person speaking to you.<br />
Giving directions.<br />
Trying to follow directions.<br />
Mixing the exact color for a skin tone.<br />
Talking to the Lord.<br />
Studying a baby's sweet face. ( for pure enjoyment )<br />
Explaining your reason... :-)<br />
Being respectful when telling a friend you don't like the dress she's holding up to you...<br />
Swinging in close to another vehicle at Sonic.<br />
Positioning up to hit a hole in one...<br />
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And there's lots more. These came to mind when sympathizing with Spike's dilemma.<br />
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The human mind is like that—off in every direction! <br />
I try not to take take Spike's option. He wears himself out, then flops down and takes a nap. <br />
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When it's one of the important things in life, it's worth the effort to stay focused.<br />
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Have a great day!<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-42482940772521743032013-07-08T11:32:00.000-07:002013-07-28T15:10:02.543-07:00CAT ANTICS...Fat cat gets most of the attention around here. He demands it. I think he's heard about the ol' squeaky wheel.<br />
We were sitting outside one afternoon enjoying the breeze, when Fat Cat strolled over demanding attention. Before long, Blackie joined the party.<br />
<br />
We haven't figured out yet what came over him. He clowned like crazy and stared at the camera like 'look, look at me!' He's normally very quiet and happy to let Fat Cat have the floor. We laughed and enjoyed the show until suddenly he jumped up, and streaked across the yard as if his tail was on fire.<br />
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I think he just wanted to show us he could entertain if he chose to...<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-54739380782789243722013-07-04T05:32:00.000-07:002013-07-27T08:57:04.913-07:00WEEDING YOUR WORDS?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The view I see most when writing this blog. My comfy chair aids me in thinking. This morning I was sitting on the patio looking at a big old privet shrub. It grows at the end of my house in front of the guest bedroom window.<br />
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I have never liked that ugly bush.<br />
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It was here when I bought the house and I've dreaded taking it out. And there's just something about hacking down a perfectly good bush that's been growing for years. It's not hurting anything, and it'll be a lot of trouble removing it. The whole area will have to be reworked.<br />
<br />
As I sipped my coffee and studied the bush, I was reminded of an article I'd read just recently about writing tight and clean, cutting unnecessary words ( word flab ) from your manuscript. When I first began to write, that was confusing advice. Lots of words are unnecessary, but their fun and descriptive. I kinda like wordy. Wouldn't I run the risk of writing dry and boring?<br />
<br />
But the more I've studied and the more I read and write, I see, as one normally does, what the experts are talking about. Experts being those who've been there, done that and are worthy of being published.<br />
<br />
So when my sister and next door neighbor sat down with me, I told her I thought that shrub should be taken out. No telling how many times she'd heard me say that. Apparently it was one time too many.<br />
"Well, lets go take it out." She said.<br />
"Right now?" I replied. This bush stands heads taller than we are.<br />
"Sure, why not now?"<br />
<br />
I was apprehensive.<br />
<br />
But, we tackled it right then. When her husband saw what we were doing and offered to help, it didn't take long until a stump lay on the grass beside the huge pile of privet remains.<br />
<br />
Now my flower bed has a beautiful white rose planted there. I can see out the window. That whole end of the house looks neat and clean. I love it! My arm muscles benefited from the exercise too.<br />
<br />
It reminded me of the first time I was advised to cut out a large section of unnecessary and mind numbing backstory in the manuscript I was working on. I stalled. I'd worked so long on that part, and I really liked it. It would mean re-working the whole thing. Maybe my adviser was wrong?<br />
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Every article I read after that had something about too much backstory. Finally I couldn't ignore it. I went back to my manuscript with a heavy heart and a very critical eye. I heard my sister's voice, "Just take it out, now!" <br />
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I look out my window at the improvement in my flower bed. The effort had been so worth it.<br />
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I took the 'chopping' ax to that manuscript. It hurt. But once I got started, it was purging, I couldn't believe what all came out. And, as in the flower bed, it cleaned up my manuscript and strengthened it. The reading flowed better, clarity was established. I could 'see'. I loved it! My writing muscle is stronger for the exercise too.<br />
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Yard work is so rewarding... sigh.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-31128548669656417252013-06-19T17:28:00.000-07:002013-06-20T19:57:11.998-07:00 ADOPTED? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We were adopted. My sister, Ruthie, and I were in the yard hard at work. Suddenly, Ruthie glanced around, and I saw apprehension on her face. I followed her glance and saw the object of her apprehension. A large, honey colored dog stood watching us. He stood higher than our heads as we knelt on the ground.<br />
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Ruthie and I are both short. It doesn't take a really big dog to tower over us when we're on the ground. But this was a Mastiff, drooping ears and pendulous lips.<br />
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He'd been in my yard before and I knew him to be friendly. I quickly reassured Ruthie. Still, he was intimidating. But after following us around a bit and having a loud and messy drink out of the bird bath, he plopped down close by to watch us. He's very curious.<br />
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From that day on he visited our yards regularly. Jerry, Ruthie's husband took to Spike right away. We'd learned his name by now. He wore a thick leather collar ringed with decorative metal spikes—no sharp pointy things.<br />
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Actually, Spike lives down the road from us. We live in the country, so we have roads, not streets. His owners are nice, friendly people. Spike has no reason to not want to stay at home. They drive a red pickup, and when we see it cruising by, we know they're just making sure Spike's okay. Ruthie feeds Spike and Jerry gives him treats and talks to, or with him, I'm not sure which. :-)<br />
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Spike is afraid of bad weather. He finds his way to Ruthie and Jerry's back door when dark clouds roll in and they let him hang out in their garage until it passes.<br />
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And then something happened to Spike. We couldn't figure it out.<br />
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He didn't show up for about three days, that wasn't normal and we begin to watch out for him. His owners came down to see if we'd seen him. After almost two weeks, we knew something had happened to Spike. Probably got snake bit or hit by a car and went into the woods to die.<br />
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Anyway, we mourned Spike. We remembered how he kept our back patios tracked up with his muddy, number nine paws. When he drank water from the blue pan, he dribbled it everywhere... we fussed and called him a pest. One morning as we cleaned the patios, Ruthie commented that she hated it about Spike, but as least the patios would stay clean now. I sighed and agreed that at least that would be nice.<br />
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The next morning Ruthie stuck her head in my back door and with a big smile said "I guess the patio won't be clean for long". Spike's owner had driven down to tell us that Spike had returned.<br />
He was too tired to come on down the road to see us.<br />
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His owner said he barely made it to their yard, where he drank lots of water and then laid down and slept. He slept the rest of that day and most of the next. He had bumps and knots on his head, he'd lost a lot of weight and his heavy collar was gone from his neck. The hair was rubbed off his elbows as if he'd been kept in a cage or something way to small for his size. It appears that someone picked him up and carried him off, no telling how far away. It was obvious he had fought to free himself.<br />
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We were eager to see Spike again, we couldn't believe he was still alive, to heck with clean patios!<br />
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After several days and he didn't show up, we began to wonder if he wouldn't stick closer to home after such an ordeal. Ruthie and Jerry's bedroom face the road that runs by our properties. The room has a big window that they open the blinds on while they're having coffee in bed. Ruthie told me later that they saw him loping down the road, headed our way. By the time they could both throw on some clothes and get to the back door, Spike was rounding the end of the house, eyes on their door. He got a whopping good welcome.<br />
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I got to see him later in the morning. He was so happy to see us all that he nearly knocked us down. His backside was wagging so hard we could barely get close enough to rub and pat on him. Spike was one happy dog. <br />
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It was easy to see how Fat Cat felt about his return. Hmm.<br />
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Things are back to normal. Spike slobbered on my black pants today and I told him he was a real pest. Why didn't he just go home?<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-62535023559789489882013-06-10T07:24:00.001-07:002013-07-06T18:27:27.669-07:00ANNE BARTON ASKED, ARE... GOOD WRITERS BORN OR MADE?<br />
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Guest blogger Anne Barton, asked the readers on Seekerville to express their opinions about whether good writers are born, or made. Nurture and environment being the key. Hmm. <br />
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An exciting exchange started up immediately. Since I'd never given the subject much thought, it was fun to read the comments of other writers; to see what each one attributed to a persons ability or desire to write stories for people who love to read.<br />
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Being opinionated me, I decided to expound on that thought. My belief is that writing can be taught, if the person wanting to learn how to write will accept some facts.<br />
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The basic laws or rules of grammar are all we really need to write well. And I say, "whew, thank goodness" for that. If someone told me today I had to diagram a sentence or be beat with a two-by-four, I'd take the beating. It's helpful to have a creative imagination. But That too, can be learned. Awareness of things around you can spark your imagination. Give yourself the time and leisure of what I call "play thinking." As a photographer for many years, it was during "play thinking" that I came up with new poses.<br />
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Play thinking is a time of relaxing and letting the mind examine detail, to recall things you've seen and done or seen someone else do, and you ask what if...? And, hey this is fiction, the sky's the limit! Play thinking time is guilt free. No excuses!<br />
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Another fact is that any learned craft deserves the time required to learn it. I don't want a doctor with only six months training doing my operation. You learn a little, it's exciting! You learn more stuff, you start getting pumped, this is fun! Right about then you learn something else, and that's how much more you still have to learn. Don't get discouraged, if you can learn a little, you can learn a lot. A little, a lot, it's all from the same brain. And one day you've mastered it—well, you could.<br />
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Another fact; <i>wanting to be a writer, and being a writer is two different things. </i><br />
Wanting to<i> be</i> a writer is easy. All you do is talk about when you get the time someday, sit at your computer and play on Facebook two hours, and write thirty minutes, repeat this step all day. <br />
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<i>Being</i> a writer means <i>making</i> the time to write, and seeking help from those who have 'been there done that.' Be patient, take the time that's required. Take criticism and grow. If everyone ( usually friends and family ) loves your first attempts... they're not being truthful to you–they love you! Sorry. There's a crude saying popular with writers, BIC which is 'behind in chair.' It's a known fact, people can't read a story that's still in your head.<br />
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I can't recommend highly enough the writers at Seekerville. <a href="http://www.seekerville.blogspot.com/">http://www.seekerville.blogspot.com/</a><br />
Each day of the week a different writer is invited to guest post. I've yet to see a post that I didn't learn something to move me forward in my writing goal, which is of course... holding my novel in my hand and wiping the drool off the cover. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-2756727164735460482013-06-06T06:29:00.002-07:002013-07-24T19:05:32.104-07:00OKLAHOMA SKIESThis view from the car was enough to make my sister and I pick up the seed to get to our destination. Taken just days after the deadly tornados hit Moore OK. Any black cloud in the sky is enough to cause concern.<br />
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We live in the Red River Valley, about three hours from Oklahoma City, still it's unnerving, and we do pay attention to the weather.<br />
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We were thankful when a lot of rain fell and the boiling black clouds passed on, leaving us with nothing but the much needed rain.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-81824169304921784592013-05-20T15:55:00.000-07:002013-05-20T15:55:55.066-07:00SHARING MY WINNINGSWINNING IS SUCH FUN... I've said that so many times, but only because it's true! It doesn't even really matter what you win, it's the "winning' that's so fun! I won! I won!<br />
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But winning something you really wanted in the first place, wow! Like a book. If you're a bookworm it doesn't get anymore fun than that! <br />
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Let me warm up my coffee, and I'll be right back to tell you all about my recent win.<br />
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Well—I go on Seekerville pretty much every morning. The Seekers are a group of writers that write some of the very best, clean romance novels for those of us that like to read heartfelt, warm, emotional and inspiring stories. </div>
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No worries about having a pen handy to scratch out words I don't like, or use myself. As a struggling writer, I learn from the guest authors that the Seekers invite to share tips, and advice, from their own hard won knowledge about the craft of writing.</div>
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Many of the guest authors give away a book to one of the lucky commenters who take the time to say, 'Thanks" for the words of wisdom they share with us 'seeklings". (The name I gave to those of us who follow the Seekers.)</div>
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One of those generous authors was Erica Vetsch. I'd never read any of Erica's books, but I really enjoyed her guest blog one morning about 5:30 am. I never expected to win a book, but I wanted her to know how much I enjoyed her article. So I commented.</div>
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And then I won a copy of SAGEBRUSH KNIGHTS—You'd think I'd won the Lottery! And in a way, I had.</div>
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I'm now an official Erica Vetsch fan—for life! I've read tons of books, and I can say with a true heart, that I've never enjoyed a book anymore than I enjoyed SAGEBRUSH KNIGHTS. </div>
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Erica had it all going—I stayed up all night to finish, and hoped the end was as good as the story promised—it was!</div>
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Story, plot, wonderful characters, family values, tender romance, hardships to overcome, while keeping a christian attitude—it was all there, and she tied it up with a 'perfect ending' big red bow!</div>
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I've already got my sister reading it! :-D</div>
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Looking forward to more of Erica's books... I'm going to treat myself to a couple of new books on my KindleFire. Till next time, happy reading. :-)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-43444587849802294462013-05-12T14:44:00.000-07:002013-06-16T06:13:26.765-07:00FAT CAT & BLACKIE ( aka BIG & RICH )<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My sister, Ruth, and I are having a garden party in 'our' back yard in a couple of days. Our yards run together like one big yard. All our daylight hours for the past two weeks have been spent working to get the yard up to par. The weather doesn't care about our party, and is not cooperating with us.<br />
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Neither is Fat Cat. When we humans are in the yard, it should be for one reason. Head scratching or feeding. Fat Cat has an attitude to start with, and it's not pretty. So when he's ignored it gets worse. He has a buddy, Blackie. Now Blackie is much nicer than Fat Cat. That's really not their names, their real names are Big and Rich.<br />
But when people come to the house they all say, "My what a fat cat" so we started calling him Fat Cat.<br />
I don't remember how Rich became Blackie? Duh.:-)<br />
Fat Cat plops down right where you're working, even grabs at the hoe—A real nuisance!<br />
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He doesn't mind being called Fat Cat, he looks at me like, "yeah and don't you forget, I'm big and mean, I am." I shake my head. When I bought my home, Big and Rich already lived here and the owner hated to move them to the city where he was going. He asked me if I'd keep them, I said sure, no problem. I'd never owned cats before. I never questioned why two cats were named 'Big and Rich'. With Big it was obvious, and Rich looked like he was wearing a tux, you know, all dressed up—rich like?<br />
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Several weeks after I'd moved in and was telling my friend, Katy Measures, ( animal lover ) about my new cats, she asked their names. When I told her, she laughed and thought that was funny. I was puzzled until she explained there's a country music group called Big and Rich. That must be where Big and Rich got their names.<br />
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So anyway, I wanted you to meet Big and Rich ( aka Fat cat and Blackie ). They're in my new novel.<br />
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In the novel, one of the characters is a young girl named Brooke Montgomery ( eight years old ). She's wild about animals, especially cats. I've decided to give Big and Rich to her. She'll love them and I bet she can turn Fat—I mean, Big into a sweet loving guy. Not that he's not already loving, he just likes having his own way—all the time!<br />
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Brooke is an only child. I believe the responsibility of caring for two cats ( <i>or being cared for by</i> <i>two cats</i> ) will be good for her. Brook is a smart, strong willed little girl and she likes to have her own way too. Watch out Fat Cat! Her father, Jackson Montgomery, ( antagonist in the story) is probably way too lenient. Just my opinion, and I admit he has his reasons.<br />
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Back to the yard. I decided to take pictures, proof of the trouble Fat Cat causes and how difficult it is to finish the job when he's around. Blackie was a good boy, taking his nap.<br />
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I'll ask Brooke to keep us posted on how Big and Rich are settling in—oh, and by-the-way, Big and Rich are brothers.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-8574967707537355992013-05-04T05:34:00.003-07:002013-05-06T14:28:07.757-07:00A SURPRISE WITH MY COFFEEHot coffee by my side, steam rising from my favorite hand made pottery mug, the Macbook on my lap... I squirmed deeper under the down cover. I love my mornings. The ritual is to check emails first and get those little packages opened... you never know what fun thing awaits there.<br />
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And then, saving the best till last, kinda like looking forward to desert after the healthy stuff. I go through all the websites that are a part of my morning warm-up, again the fun stuff first, before my day gets serious. <br />
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I feel the same about this morning treat as I do about the best hair color—I'm worth it. I deserve it.<br />
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This morning was no different. Except that we've been having exceptionally cool weather for this time of the year. My down cover was really appreciated. I raise my cup and enjoy the aroma, does it get any better?<br />
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Yep, it did. I clicked on over to 'Seekerville' and reading down the column, I learned that I'd won one of Erica Vetsch's books, <i> Sagebrush Knights. </i>I nearly spilled my coffee!<br />
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Now admit it, is there anything more fun than winning? No. But winning a<i> book</i>, now that's real fun! Needless to say that made my morning even better.<br />
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Thank You Erica!<br />
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I'll enjoy the fruit of your labor, and as I pour over the pages I'll think of the hours of your life energy you spent to make <i>Sagebrush Knights</i> happen.<br />
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And a big thank you to the Seekers over at Seekerville!<br />
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The Seekers bring in some of the best writers to share their knowledge and experience with the rest of us who are still seeking. Are we called Seeklings?<br />
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Good day to all... happy writing!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-60801302025712141292013-05-03T10:34:00.002-07:002013-05-03T10:40:02.403-07:00WINSLOW AT FIRSTWhen we first found Winslow he had almost no hair. I didn't photograph him until about a week later, after he started wearing baby clothes. He scratched until it was causing sores—we had to do something!<br />
He had to be bathed everyday in a medicated shampoo the doctor prescribed. It was amazing how fast his hair came back. He ate like a little pig.:-)<br />
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He didn't seem to mind the clothes at all... :-)<br />
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He looks sad, but he was really a happy little thing... And beautiful blue eyes.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-82159197831701520842013-04-22T20:48:00.000-07:002013-04-22T20:48:34.958-07:00WINSLOW, THE CEMETERY DOGOne scorching July day my sister, Ruth, and I went to the cemetery to put flowers on our parents gravesites. We got busy pulling a few weeds and didn't notice a puppy crawling to us until he had crawled right up to me.<br />
My sister said, "Mary" in a tone of voice that I knew something was up. When I glanced up to see what was going on—there he was. A mangy, starved little thing with almost no hair on his body. He was sunburned, and so pitiful we could hardly bear to look at him.<br />
We scooped him up and headed for the vet. Our vet said he was a strong little dude, and with proper care in two weeks we wouldn't recognize him.<br />
I bought infant size sleepers with snaps across the seat and put those on him to keep him from scratching—he was so cute! I couldn't find a photo of that. I named him after one of my favorite artist, Winslow Homer.<br />
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Meet "Winslow"<br />
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Life is so good when you have toys, and no itch!<br />
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Mary and Ruth call me "Winslow."<br />
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It looks like fun out there...<br />
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I'm almost all well, I have hair again!<br />
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I help Ruthie feed the goats apple slices.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3938522149355060079.post-79157148893826778782013-04-20T06:31:00.000-07:002013-04-22T20:22:34.202-07:00GRAMMAR WOESPerusing threads on Absolute Write the other morning, I ran across a post commenting on poor grammar. Having a problem with grammar myself, I clicked to check it out. I'm always amazed when some young person talks about not knowing about the different parts of a sentence or how to determine if it should be 'was'/'were' or 'lay/'lie'.<br />
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I struggle with those doubts in my own writing, but I never finished high school, so I tend to think it's just me, surely <br />
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everybody else knows all that. Surprisingly, not so. I'm amazed at how many like myself don't see the need to really study, until later years. When I was in school, grammar was a subject I gave very little thought to. I was far too busy drawing and reading, you know, the fun stuff.<br />
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How many times when I'm plowing through the Chicago Manual of Style, I wish I had paid attention to Mrs. Morgan. She was a wonderful english teacher and she tried—really. Getting grammar to stick in an uninterested mind is like pouring water on a ducks back.<br />
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At least I can be grateful that I as I grew older I became a student. I love learning, and the irony of it, I love studying grammar, which is good because I have so much to learn. I don't think I'll ever stop needing to learn more.<br />
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One of my paintings. "Peonies"Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03279233256803317528noreply@blogger.com0