Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

God bless all of you that have been faithful to my blog even though it has been awhile. I want to wish all of you happy and safe holidays. Whether you receive the gift you always wanted, were able to afford the one you wanted to give, or receive a blessing from our Father in heaven, just remember to give thanks. Thanks to the one who gave His only begotten son, Jesus Christ, because He so loved the world. That is a gift that keeps on giving every day. Say a prayer of thanks....

I also want to thank the person who furnished the picture for my blog: http://www.flikr.com/littlefurby

Soft As Velvet and Smooth As Wine

I read an article by Mark Flanagan of About.com regarding the writer Sue Monk Kidd. Better known as the writer of "The Secret Life of Bees". Let me tell you as a writer, even though unpublished at this time, I find Sue's stories so soothing. To be able to write a story that captures the readers hearts in the first paragraph I find could only be a gift from God himself.

The story flows and envelopes you. I find only limited things can do that to me unless it is a movie like "Sleepless in Seattle" or "You've Got Mail" or still yet "When a Man Loves a Woman". Now there are quite a few more than have caught my attention but none so much in the written word of books. Sue I find must be a pleasant person who sees things differently than most and can write about anything that some can't.

I write fiction romance and some day hope to be published. Having written one complete novel with three waiting to be, I always knew I wanted to write a book. Of course I have poems galore that I have written since I was thirteen years old, but the dream I always had was to write something spectacular as "Gone With The Wind" or "Wuthering Heights".

Finding something as wonderful as this story "The Secret Life of Bees" warmed my heart and gave me courage to continue in my writing. I thank Sue Monk Kidd for giving me hope and I pray my writing will be like her's, soft as velvet and smooth as wine.

Gramma Hood

I remember praying for grandchildren one night. Yes, those little people that pee on you, poop on you, and scream at you. I felt as if I was never going to have the pleasure of waiting at the screen door with my heart jumping for joy as my sons pulled up in the driveway and the baby hadn't even gotten out of the car yet. Would I be too old? Not able to walk around with them in my arms because my arthritis had other ideas? Too slow because age had suddenly caught up with me?

Then one day my oldest son came over with the wonderful news my heart had longed to hear, "Mom, you're going to be a grandma." I don't remember anything passed those words because I was too busy daydreaming of endless shopping, looking up fun games for kids, a crib for my house, etc. Praying the "little one" would be healthy was added to my constant prayer list that I imagine any civil Grandma would have.

I even spent an entire week concentrating on names the baby would call me. My mother had a name, Nana or Gammy (by my two sons). My older sister had a name, Grammy. Now it was my turn. I needed something as special as my two predecessors. Something that would make me smile every time I heard it. Then it hit me. My mother and I had been watching an old English movie and there was this endearing little old lady (I'm only54 y.o.) that everybody loved and referred to as Mims. So that was my chosen name--Mimz. Of course I spelled it differently somewhat, with a z at the end but it was my name. At first my boys thought it was kind of dumb. My mother even suggested Mimi, but I stuck to my guns and stated, "My grandchildren will call me Mimz, not you." So everybody agreed to disagree and let it be Mimz. Even though everyone wound up calling my mother and I "The Grammas". Aye Chihuahua!

The day came when my son called me from the hospital to say the baby was three weeks early and coming soon. I prayed that the baby would be healthy and Mama would get through it without any problems. Little Sophie was born at the tail end of July and wound up staying in the hospital for a week until she reached 6 lbs. Papa couldn't get enough of her, finally his little girl was here and it was his turn to cry. That was 14 months ago and when her first birthday came he cried again. Actually he has told me he never stopped crying since he brought her from the hospital!

This grandchild of mine now plays games with her Nana and Mimz every time she visits. Running down the hallway screaming, hiding behind Nana's recliner with my mother calling out to her "Child, come herrrrre!" and little Sophie coming from behind the chair looking into my mother's eyes and laughing so hard. This game is played over and over until something else catches little Sophie's attention and off she goes running through the house again, much to her Nana's and Mimz' delight.

The news of another grandchild came again two months ago from Sophie's Papa. This time the doctors told him it was a boy. The tears again flooded my son's eyes. I am so glad he is comfortable enough in his own manliness to express his emotions. The wait is going to be too long for this baby too but it is going to be loved as much as the first. After all, isn't that what a grandmother is supposed to do, spoil her grandchildren? Anyway the baby is due on Valentine's Day and we can hardly wait.

But that isn't even the end of it, for my youngest son just came over to visit the other day and announced that he too will become a father. Of course he has a son from a previous relationship and the mother made it difficult for any of us to see the baby so my son stopped trying. One day I pray my first grandson will join us too because we all loved him when he was with us off and on from birth to one year. But now our prayers will have to suffice until then. My daughter-in-law has a son also from a previous relationship and we just love him. He's a sweet boy of 13 1/2 and is overjoyed with having a brother or sister. The baby is due early May of next year and I can't wait to hold him/her.

So now that my grandchildren are popping out like popcorn around here, I have a vision of a row of cribs in my room. Of course I am moving into one of the bigger bedrooms in the house but I love just the thought of being surrounded by my grandchildren. Yes, the little people that pee and poop on you and even scream at you. I wouldn't have it any other way!

Pencil and Paper, Where Art Thou!

I knew the day would come. I suppose it happens to other people, just not me.... You turn on the computer just to stare at a black screen. Your head does the dog tilt to one side, then you play with every button you think will help. Plugging, unplugging, checking the router, etc. When it becomes apparent that short of a miracle the darn thing isn't going to do what you want it to, you start making your calls.

At first I called the company that I have Internet access through only to be told they don't do technical work. They give you the telephone number to the maker of your computer and wish you luck. I spoke to someone in India then the Philippines. I was told that I would be receiving an empty box for the computer. To place my computer in the box and ship back to them for repair. I received the box in two days and shipped the box back immediately. The only thing I could do was track the package but couldn't find out what kind of repair was being done when I got an email stating they were sending my computer back to me.

Two days later I received my computer with the repair notice at no charge. It was not a virus as I suspected when I saw the Bios Password come across the screen, but only the black box that is part of the power cord. One end of the cord plugs into the wall with the other end in the box. Then another cord plugs into the box while the other end plugs into the computer. This little black box caused so much grief. I was praying that it wasn't something that was going to cost me an arm and a leg to fix. Then the realization of what was on the computer that I couldn't retrieve, such as my three novels. One I just finished, the other two that I was in the process of writing. My short stories, my poems, etc. Ahhhhh!

Is it wrong of me to think back to a simpler time when pencil and paper was all you had to worry about? Or a sharpened pencil? A preference of pen or pencil? Lined or unlined paper? All I know is that it all seemed pretty good to me. More control over things with pencil and paper! I grew up with manual typewriters, micro film, mechanical pencils, etc. My sons grew up with computers, as will my granddaughter. I have taken classes, I have gotten into the computer to better understand what is happening, I have pestered my oldest son over and over about certain programs and such. I just finished advanced classes but I think my next step will be to get into the meat of the computer. Find out what makes it tick and why. I am certainly all for new ventures and exploring all that the future has to offer in computers. But I really don't think I will forever "back up" my work by writing it all down. Crashing computers will not take my life over again. I will write my notes on paper no matter what anybody says. It's just as plain as that.

Thank You, Soldier!

"A Soldier is someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a blank check made payable to the United States of America, for an amount up to, and including, his or her life. That is an honor, and there are way to many people in this country today who no longer understand that fact."

Happy Birthday, Mimz

This birthday that just passed was celebrated by close friends sending birthday wishes, giving presents, singing songs in emails or in person, etc. Then my granddaughter came for a visit, albeit thanks to her mother for being so thoughtful in calling me on the phone and letting my granddaughter say happy birthday by breathing in the phone, it was awesome! Then she came over and I spent the whole day with her and she wound up spending the night. I had forgotten how wonderful waking up in the middle of the night, my eyes resting on this little person smiling back at me, then turning over and falling back to sleep. I cried. She is a wonderful little miracle.

Just to let you know how wonderful, she is almost 9 mos and she was singing to me while I was rocking her to sleep. At first I wasn't sure, but when I started to sing to her I noticed she wasn't baby talking but trying to sing too. Her mother sings to her with this amazing voice that is natural--no singing lessons, and I've heard her Papa sing to her which I find endearing. Singing to me has been so healing for so long, and now I have been given a gift so precious from my granddaughter. There is no topping this by any means...sorry, this all makes me cry. Happy 54th Birthday to me...

Romance

Romance...it is a beautiful word. When you are in love, it is even better. I write romance novels and right before I start a novel, I think about Gone With The Wind, Wuthering Heights, When A Man Loves A Woman, or You've Got Mail. Any one of these greats will bring to mind the feeling of losing yourself in someone else.

Writing a novel was always a big dream of mine ever since I was a teenager. The first time I attempted to write a story, I wrote three simultaneously, without chapters. By the time I decided to concentrate on the first one I was well passed 919,515 words. Then I got the idea to join a writing group, which then led to joining classes within the group. All of this helped quite a bit but I soon learned that I needed to chop up my stories in chapters. Wow, how the heck could I forget that?

I wrote the first novel in three months from start to finish, another three months to put it into chapters, and a year to edit the darn thing a kabillion times. I didn't want this to become a chore but remain a hobby. I was discouraged because I knew I was good at this writing thing, but the more I read about how much work the group was putting into their own stories I decided to stop and take a vacation. I couldn't believe how hard something that brought me so much pleasure, was slowly turning into a nightmare.

That is when I made up my mind that I would write what I had in my heart to write and when I was through then I would go on the endeavor of the next step...finding an agent. I still don't think all of this is as hard as everyone makes it out to be. I just decided that I will try, giving my writing as much of a chance as I can give before "I" say enough is enough and stop.

Writing is second nature to like breathing. I can lose myself in it for hours. Start early in the morning before anyone or anything tries to interrupt me and before you know it I look up at the clock and evening has arrived in all it's glory! I love to write, it frees my mind. If someone were to give me something to write about I feel as though I have this tight coat on. Can't breathe, can't think, inevitably I can't write. I can write anywhere, any time. I don't believe I have to lock myself up in another room and I only have four walls staring back at me. I can be among others and still write, providing I am not interrupted. My mother solves her crossword puzzles, my sons go about their lives, and I am at the kitchen table or TV room with it blaring as my mother watches her British comedies or movies. I am perfectly fine among all of it. But I do become a little agitated if you try to engage in conversation with me. Writing is important to me and I hate being interrupted for anything. When I get an idea I run with it. That is how important writing is to me. It means everything in the world to me, to get it down on paper or in the computer.

Tiny Little Miracle

Our tiny little miracle came in the shape of a preemie named Sophie Cadence on July 26, 2009. She was tiny and had some stomach problems but being a fighter, our worries were soon over. Sophie came at a time when I needed something in my life and I knew it had to be a miracle because let's face it there could be nothing else that would be acceptable to me.

She looks like her mother at times and somewhat like her father too. Sophie has grown in leaps and bounds and knows how to get what she wants when she wants it! You know when she is around because you can hear the giggling or roaring laughter in the room from all those around her. When she is in a playful mood with her Papa Gabe she will stick her pacifier or teething biscuit into his mouth. I tell him she is tired of hearing the talk, she wants to play, and play they do.

Papa Gabe will sing his rendition of "Cuban Pete" while Sophie starts dancing. Actually she likes for Papa to hold her at the waist while she jumps up and down kicking her feet until he stops singing. Sometimes she makes him sing the song two or three times, depending on her mood. Then there is time where she just wants to sit and watch TV with him. Of course the images go back and forth to her, but she gets a kick out of Papa when he hoops and hollers for his favorite team when they score. She laughs and jumps up and down waiving her little arms as if she is helping to cheer his team on too.

When nap time comes sometimes she just wants Papa to hold her and they both nod out. I try to put her in her crib but she cries out waking her daddy and he takes her back in his arms. She loves her Papa and he loves her. They are very close as it should be between parent and child. I wished both Mommy and Papa would have been able to stay together, but I know in my heart that they both love her and pray this sustains her for the rest of her life.

I speak only of what I know on Papa's side because I am his mother. When he first brought her over he had the baby carrier in one hand with the diaper bag that held all of the baby necessities, including a notebook that had Sophie's feeding and changing schedule. From the start Gabe was involved in everything, even caring for Mommy when she was still hurting from her C-section. He would wash Mommy's hair, help her shower, make her something to eat, etc. Of course the other Grandma helped too by caring for Mommy when Papa went back to work.

But even though the relationship between Mommy and Papa didn't work out they still had Sophie to remind them of when it did. Whether it is in her smile or gurgling, they can't deny that this wonderful, beautiful human being is truly a little miracle that we all needed in our lives.

When I hold her she stares into my eyes and the corners of her little mouth turn up. That smile melts my heart and I know in the future it is going to mean BIG TROUBLE when I start taking her shopping with me, from the first to the millionth time. I will cherish every moment as any Grandmother would and hope for a kabillion more to come...

Family

Family...ah yes, those people that at one time or another you wished you could exchange for a better model or nothing at all. But really, if you had the "real" chance of doing this you wouldn't. Come on, who are you kidding? You've already broken these people in and put up with their "stuff" all these years. Do you really want to start all over again?

My family has been there for me through thick and thin. They have also kept my feet on the ground with the occasional "reality check". Let's face it, we all get those checks when someone in the ranks feels we are lifting off the ground onto that "high horse" and need to be brought back down, with love hopefully. Your family knows what made you tick as a baby, child, adolescent, teenager, and young adult. Now it is up to you to show what you have learned and what you are all about now that you are an adult.

We go to work and somewhere along the line are reminded that our mothers are not going to come behind us to clean up. We go through the rest of our lives realizing that "hey wait a minute, I have to do this myself?" Then it begins to click in our minds what we really do have. There are others that don't have that much and wished they did. Don't get me wrong, I am not going on a tangent of what our parents or grandparents reminded us of everytime we refused to eat something on our plate. "Do you know there are starving kids in ---- that would give their right arm for a feast like this!" Of course you only think it in your mind, if you're smart: "Well, can I mail it to THEM?"

Families on the short end of things are either for you or against you. But you have to be honest with yourself when you are criticizing them. Are you being honest when you say to yourself, "I don't do anything and they yell at me for nothing!" Because if this is true then you answered your own question of why they treat you the way they do. You aren't doing "anything". I don't have the answers for all of this but what I do know is the one set of people you can't fool....you guessed it--your family!

So while summer is upon us and the BBQ's will be starting full speed ahead, it would behoove you to make peace with your people and have a good old fashion party in the backyard. It brings families together and you never know what surprises may come, but whatever you do, always strive to have fun. Your family is what makes you, you and granted now you can add your two cents when the conversations start...

My Father On The Throne

My Father on the throne
Where have I gone wrong
The fight is long and hard
I grow weary where I stand
My heart refuses to yield to the fear
I see within my own eyes
For my God, my Father is still on the throne
Regardless of all I see
My heart my Father spoke to
still beats within me!

Lesson In Love

Never take someone for granted

Hold everyone close to your heart

If not, you may wake up one day

and realize that you lost a diamond

while you were busy collecting stones.