Reading with the Kids: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

One of our summer's biggest delights are the stories, tales, and written words read by both myself and my kids.  They aren't li'l ones anymore, so we all read independently, but even each of us reading our own separate worded worlds while all of us are in the same room feels like we're sharing our books together.

More than once there has been one kid reading from a printed book on one end of the sofa, while I'm on the other, reading an ebook on my phone, while the other kidlet sits on the floor right next to us and reads an ebook, checked out from the library on the laptop.

And occasionally, two or three of us might share a special story.  Recently, I started reading Anne of Green Gables aloud to my sweet girl and with each word spoken, I wander down memory lane, revisiting when those words were my first time reading them as a girl myself.  She loves sharing the story so much that her prized yard sale find this summer is her very own copy of the old book that she picked up for fifty cents.  Now, I read aloud as she follows along, gingerly turning the pages of her newest treasure.

And even better, a book that again allows me to wander through my memories and that I'm then able to pass on to another generation.  The imaginative tale of  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl has been just that tale.  My boy was first introduced to Dahl reading Matilda with his class a few years ago and laughed himself sick.  And my girl has been experiencing his worlds with James and the Giant Peach before Charlie arrived on our doorstep.  

Dozens of books, thousands of pages, and millions of words have yanked the three of us into dozens of different writers' imagined worlds.  And we are smiling because of it.

What are you reading this summer?  If you have kids, what books, pages or screens, are they sticking their noses in?

This post was inspired by the classic Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl, which celebrates its 50th anniversary this year. To celebrate, Penguin Young Readers Group, in partnership with Dylan’s Candy Bar, the world-famous candy emporium, and First Book, a nonprofit social enterprise that provides books for children from low-income families, is launching a year-long international celebration.

Head over to From Left to Write to learn how you and your child can have a chance to win the Golden Ticket Sweepstakes where the grand prize is a magical trip to New York City plus much more! For every entry submitted, Penguin Young Readers Group will make a donation to First Book. Then, join From Left to Write on July 24 as we discuss Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. As a book club member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

From Left to Write: Summer Fun

With three weeks left on the countdown clock 'til the school's last bell rings, the buzz coming off the kids is palpable.  Ready or not, summer is coming.

And while I am more than excited to ditch the 5:40 am alarm clock, I would rather be ready and have some activities planned out, or at the very least, thought out.

There are the inexpensive to free activities that will be the staples to fill our days:

~ Trips to the coast to build sandcastles & take adventure walks along the
    beach
~ Summer library reading programs to keep li'l & big brains from getting
    jellified
~ Tending to our growing edible garden in the backyard
~ Riding bikes through the neighborhood
~ Playing with neighborhood friends
~ Mornings at the park (mornings, because uber hot days & I are not on
    the friendliest of terms)
~ Painting with the kids (looking forward to framing some new pieces)
~ Learning how to play the guitar

And then there are those activities that cost some dough, but are totally worth it:

~ Taekwondo (Big Bro began taking classes over a year ago and four
    months in, Li'l Sis jumped in too)
~ Swimming lessons
~ Local day camp
~ A couple of local museums we want to visit
~ The Zoo
~ Jelly Belly Factory tour
~ Mrs. Grossman's sticker factory tour
~ Exploratorium

That should keep us pretty busy!  What are you up to this summer?  Any exciting plans?  Any fun destinations you're looking forward to visiting?

This post was inspired by Bittersweet by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore, a novel that exposes the gothic underbelly of an American dynasty, and an outsider's hunger to belong.  Join From Left to Write on May 20th, as we discuss Bittersweet.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Affiliate links used.

From Left to Write: Sparkle Words Shine in Ruby

"Use your Sparkle Words!"

Flashing back to my son's first grade classroom, I easily hear his teacher rallying her students to include descriptive adjectives into their writing.  As they were six years old, those words often consisted of a favorite color from an eight pack box of Crayolas;  or the words a lot, very, many, great, or cool.  As simplistic as those words are, even several years later, I still think of those or any descriptions as Sparkle Words.

Clearly, those lettered images grow as kidlets' vocabularies increase.  And by the time words are whipped into published story, hopefully those stitched together letters and phrases paint pictures for readers to see into the writer's world.

Cynthia Bond transports her reader, creating magic with her Sparkle Words, in her debut novel, Ruby.  The imagery her words paint firmly embeds a reader into time, place, sight, sound, and smell.

My eyes sucked in the opening of Bond's tale, telling of a mad woman, but it was only the second paragraph that grabbed and pasted me stuck like a winged creature on a permanent fly paper pit stop.  Bond uses her version of Sparkle Words to tell us of Ruby Bell.

Eyes read those words, just as I was taught at three, moving from left to right across the page.  But, once was not enough.  And I still did not have enough, even reading it five, six, seven times.  Due to its subject matter, the book is not one my kidlets are ready for, but I knew those words in the second paragraph - the ones that would not let me go - are the perfect sample of where I hope they learn to grow their own versions of Sparkle Words, so I read it to them.  And even still, it was not enough.

It took me at least a day before I was able to move beyond just the second grouping of sentences.  And the very last set of words from that second grouping held so tightly to my breath, I fell asleep several nights watching them parade across my closed eyelids.

Fortunately, Bond continued to share her rich and layered imagery for my eyes to greedily suck in the hundreds more paragraphs in her tale.

I hope your world is adorned with Sparkle Words - words you hear, words you read, words you write, words you speak.

This post was inspired by the novel, Ruby, by Cynthia Bond, a gripping story about overcoming our past and embracing love in a racially charged rural 1950s Texas.  Join From Left to Write on May 8th, as we discuss Ruby.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

My Writing Process

Writing stories, since I was a kid, was just something I did.  Then, I had kids, life took over, and I read stories to my children, rather than write my own.

Three years ago, Mandy, from In Mandyland, inspired me get back to my writing, even if she didn’t know it at the time.  Though, I’ve told her since that it was her own creative writing she shared online that made me want to move some of the characters parading through my head back onto paper…or my laptop.  Her writing brings her characters to life, always making me feel as if I’m in the room with them while curled up with the book that writes of their tale.

So, when she asked me to participate in a Writing Process Blog Tour, of course I said yes!

What am I working on?

If you’ve swung by here in the last year, you may know that my muse decided to take an extended vacation – an unapproved, extended vacation.  With or without my favorite muse, I have continued to write, albeit mostly offline, rather than on.  Thankfully, I'm beginning to see sparks of mojo returning.

I have focused more closely on editing the beginnings of two novels and slowly adding to them, in an attempt to get back on track.  And there is a microfiction/photography project that I have been toying with for a while now and am finally beginning to work on.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Honestly?  I’m not a fan of labels.  I think the minute we use them, we remove our ability to try or see something new.

And since what I’m working on currently dances in four different “genres,” I’m glad I don’t subscribe to them.  I understand how quickly and easily we human beings want to slap a label on something and make it easy to define, but personally, I really don’t want to live in a world where we only look at the surface.  For me, life is rather boring that way.

Why do I write what I do?

I grew up moving.  A lot.  And in each new state, town, school and/or workplace, new friendships were formed.  Through those encounters, I watched and learned about relationships in a way that I don’t believe I would have if I had grown up within the same community all my life (though, if I had, I’m sure I would have learned a lot as well, just from an entirely different perspective).  Consequently, a lot of what I write looks at the bonds of friendships and the individuals that create them.

How does your writing process work?

It’s the call of a character parading through my head that leads my fingers to tap a keyboard.  That is inevitably where I begin writing a story, whether that is the actual beginning, middle, or end of the tale itself. 

I suppose that makes me somewhat of a pantser in terms of just sitting down and writing.  Though, I am finally caving and know I need to embrace outlining to help me get past the walls I’ve hit with those two novels.

And fortunately, I’ve even learned how to write when the kidlets are immersed in their own activities three feet from me.  Though, editing amongst chaos does not work for me and for that, my brain needs quiet space to twist the words and hear the characters on the pages in front of me.  Because, really, just how many voices can my poor brain hear all at once?

********* 

Next Monday, the Writing Process Blog Tour moves on to four writers I’ve connected with through both ends of the word loving spectrum - an online writing community (Write on Edge) and an online book club (From Left to Write):

Shelton Keys Dunning is the author of paranormal mystery novels The Trouble with Henry and Hagatha Kittridge Must Die, along with several short stories and the blogs Expressions of Talking Leaves on blogger, and The Scribe, The Quill, and the Secret Notebook on Tumblr.

Eva Greene Wilson is the editor and owner of SocaMom.com, an award winning website for Caribbean parents.  She has also written and published the children’s book, Anancy’s Family Reunion.

Shannon Morgan is an editor and a food and travel writer working on her first novel.  Visit her blog at Shannon Morgan Creative.

Jessica Claire Haney is a writer and mother of two who is working on her first novel. She blogs at Crunchy-Chewy Mama and has two essays published in the recent anthology, Have Milk, Will Travel: Adventures in Breastfeeding. 

#iPPP a la Girl Scouts

Back for #iPPP and it hasn't even been a whole year since my last visit!  Say what?  Only two weeks?  Call Guinness!

Life's been busy, busy, but last weekend, busy also meant tasty.  My sweet girl was working on her Snacks badge for Brownies (Girl Scouts) and got crackin' in the kitchen, creating a sweet treat and a smoothie.

Saturday night, for dessert, she made yogurt strawberry parfaits, layering greek yogurt mixed with a li'l honey, sliced strawberries, and granola.

And while the first set of parfaits were made gluten free, using Udi's vanilla granola, she needed to go one step further for her brother, who can't have dairy,  to join in the sweet treat fun and swapped out the greek yogurt for almond yogurt creating a GFCF parfait delight.  Looks nearly the same, eh?

Can I share the most random and yet helpful thing I learned over the weekend?  Thanks to friend Jenn visiting, I finally learned how to spell dessert and not get it mixed up with desert!  Dessert is spelled with two 's's because you want more and desert with only one 's' because you supposedly want less (since I'm not a fan of the heat, this totally works for me).  Told ya it was random...but, it will save me when spell check isn't nearby!

On Sunday, she blended up a smoothie, using frozen organic blueberries, frozen strawberries, frozen mangoes, fresh ripe banana, fresh baby spinach leaves, and coconut water.  We slurped up smoothie and then poured the left over mix into popsicle molds for desert this week.  Delish.

Coming back for an #iPPP visit with

G*Funk*ified & Jumping With My Fingers Crossed & Angela Amman

#iPPP: Valentine's Day...A Year Later

Holy camole macarole!!!  Looking back, my last #iPPP post was last year, this same week!  I knew it had been quite awhile, but geez!  Um...well, then...hello again. :>

This year, we found some really cute li'l heart printables with the perfect Valentine's sayings for the themed pencils we slid through the cut out hearts on Pinterest, of course.  You can find them on Or So She Says where Sharon, from Lemon Squeezy shared them.  Loved that they were a fun non-candy option!

But, since I've annoyed myself and forgotten to snap a pic, let's move onto what I did remember to document from Valentine's Day.  And that is what has quickly become a favorite tradition:

hubs brings living flowers for me

and for his sweet li'l girl too.

When we keep them alive long enough, they can be planted in the backyard next month.  Sometimes that happens, sometimes it doesn't.  I hear there's this little thing plants like called water???  So far, they're looking good and my girl's old enough now to help remind me of that tiny life sustaining necessity. Fingers crossed!

Finally coming back for an #iPPP visit with

G*Funk*ified & Jumping With My Fingers Crossed & Angela Amman

From Left to Write: Hope's Dream

Young, elementary school kidlets stepping up to the podium, taking the microphone in hand, sharing their dreams for their classes' I Have a Dream presentation carved a niche in me.  They spoke from their hearts and touched mine.

Thinking on my response to reading Prayers for the Stolen by Jennifer Clement with From Left to Write this month, those speeches bubbled up.  This is a bit different than my typical post, but where both the book and those children's words took me.

Hope’s Dream

Martin Luther King, Jr. -
Ideas cut through the air, rolling across hundreds of thousands.
Orated ideals, shuttled forward through decades to come;
Words chauffeured through time, but not all lands.

“I have a dream…”
Children speak their own whispered hearts.
Trees for forests, healed and healthy parents, worlds without war -
They have a dream.
Breathing environments, cornflower blue skies, crystal streams channeling dirt-
They have a dream.
Kids free of fear, shining seas, feathered and furry friends left to roam free -
They have a dream.

Dozens of children hope for the wider world around them.
One child hopes for a world he came from, a world he knew.
A future holding more,
A future lacking less,
A future without dirt floors,
A future without empty bellies,
A future with hope.
He has a dream.

This post was inspired by the novel Prayers for the Stolen by Jennifer Clement.  Ladydi grew up in rural Mexico, where being a girl is a dangerous thing.  She and other girls were "made ugly" to protect them from drug traffickers and criminal groups.  Join From Left to Write on February 18 as we discuss Prayers for the Stolen.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.  Opinions and response are my own.

Christmas Music Countdown

'Tis the season

for my current

Top 5 Christmas Songs:

5) Let it Snow  (Because I miss the possibility of li'l white flurries falling from the sky and blanketing the earth below for a glistening white Christmas.)

4) Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer (It's my favorite Christmas movie too!)

3) Silent Night  (Was taught this one in sign language at church when I was just a girl and have always loved it.)

2)  White Christmas (Sang this one to my first kidlet when he was a newborn, even though it wasn't Christmas time because Girl Scout & Christmas songs were the only songs, in that severe sleep deprived state that I could remember the words to!)

1) The Little Drummer Boy  (Currently, the kidlets and I are absolutely hooked on Pentatonix rendition of this Christmas classic. Nothing like a li'l beatboxing to modernize a traditional favorite. Have a look & listen!)

 

If you listen to Christmas music, what is your current fav?  Song?  Album?

In addition to more Christmas tracks than I can count (heavily laced with Christmas music from Glee), we're also enjoying Kelly Clarkson's newest album, Wrapped In Red, and more from Pentatonix  (which is new to us this year)! 

      Affiliate links are used.

From Left to Write: Arriving at Downton Abbey

Just a li'l chat between hubs and I about a year ago, before season 3 came out here, in the States.  He was driven to make me fall down the Downton Abbey rabbit hole.

Downton Abbey.  Have you seen it?

No.

Have you seen it?

No.

You have to see it.

You think?

No, really, you have to see it.

I'm getting that.

You know, if you're looking for something to stream, you ought to try Downton Abbey.

You really want me to watch, don't you?

Well, yeah.  I think you'd like it.  It's so good.

I get that it's totally you.  British.  Historically based.  PBS.  But, will I like it?

Watch it.

Maybe.

No.  You need to watch this.

We'll see.

So, you're going to watch it, right?

{Head. Desk. Ouch.}  Okay, okay, okay.  I give.

While there was oodles of hoopla surrounding the show post season two, I wasn't convinced it would be something I would like.  But, clearly, unless I wanted to keep having the quite cyclical conversation, I caved and hit PBS online to catch the first season.

It didn't take long at all to get completely hooked on the show and rapidly found myself signing up at Hulu + to see the second season.  I was thoroughly taken in by the smallest period details of the show.  And what caught me most significantly, was the subtlety in which the most poignant and powerful life moments were conveyed.

A fantastic period piece, whether via a visual medium in a show or movie, or through the words of a fictional book, will inevitably send me in the direction of the nearest source for the real story behind the scenes, the real story of that time period, the real story of the location, the real story of the people.

Do you do that?  Do you like to uncover the next layer of the story?  To move from the fictional tale to the histories that inspired the fiction?

This post was inspired by Lady Catherine, the Earl, and the Real Downton Abbey by The Countess of Carnarvon.  Learn more about the family who lived in Highclere Castle, where the popular British series, Downton Abbey is filmed.  Join From Left to Write on December 17, as we discuss Lady Catherine, the Earl, and the Real Downton Abbey.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

She Came, She Wrote, She Won!

My sweet girl was itching to write for NaNoWriMo again this year with their Young Writers Program, after trying it for the first time last year.  Even when her Mama didn't write along with her (yes, I bailed...but, I worked diligently on my cheer leading skills!), she kept whipping her words into shape.

Last year, she worked with a special purple mechanical pencil and her Hello Kitty notebook, marking her words down by hand.  This year, she put the computer keyboarding skills she's learning in school to use and typed her NaNo.  As touch typing is a new skill still being honed, it was a little slower going.  But, she is one determined kidlet and didn't let a challenge stop her.

Today, she passed her word count goal and verified on the site, making her a WINNER!!!

We are so proud she kicks her goals' backside and is already talking about jumping back into NaNo next year!

From Left to Write: The Cartographer of No Man's Land

I'm not sure when it happened.

It could have possibly happened when I lived on the west coast, just one state south of the border, in Washington, as a young child.

It could have happened when I lived on the east coast, just one state south of the border, in New York, as a kid.

It could have happened when I dove into Lucy Maud Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, landing on a farm on Prince Edward Island.

I'm not quite sure exactly when it happened.

But, at some point it did.

I fell in love with our neighbors to the north.  I fell in love with Canada.

Was there any love lost for my home country?  As a child, absolutely not.  However, I vividly remember my Canada curiosity.

Could I have both?  Live here, love there?  And what exactly was it that I loved so much?

Truthfully, when this affinity struck, I don't believe I had ever even been north of that map line.

As a kid in New York, we once went to Niagara Falls, but I couldn't tell you what side of the Falls we were on.

While living in a number of locales across this country, I have not travelled much - I leave that to my baby brother and his wanderlust.  But, when I did finally travel the wee bit I have, I headed north to British Columbia in '95 and 2000.  And instead of a remembered childhood love of the then abstract place on a map, Canada, I looked around and breathed deep.  As much of a tourist as I was - and yes, I did indeed do the typical tourist activities - it felt more like stepping out into a favorite corner of my backyard.  It was comforting, fresh, natural, and of course, a visually stunning feast for the eyes.

It's been thirteen years since last visiting and I dream of going again.  In the meantime, I think I'll keep exploring that remembered childhood love through words woven across a printed page.

 

This post was inspired by The Cartographer of No Man's Land: A Novel by P.S. Duffy.  Angus enlists in the Nova Scotia WWI regiment and travels to Europe to search for his missing in action best friend and brother-in-law.  Along the way Angus discovers more than he ever wanted to know.  Join From Left to Write on November 14th as we discuss The Cartographer of No Man's Land.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Wanted: Missing Muse

My muse up and disappeared.  I thought she was simply escaping on a rather marvelous vacation.  I was, in fact, quite envious.  But now, I'm beginning to worry she developed a terminal illness and expired...and I'm trembling with fright at that disastrous prospect. 

 

November 1st is rapidly approaching, aka NaNoWriMo launch day, making that missing muse even more of a problem than it has been through the last year.

 

The previous two years, I click clacked my way across my keyboard for NaNoWriMo and last year, my wee girl got her NaNo on for the first time, jumping on board with great gusto.  She loved it so much, she wants to write again this year...and she wants the other half of her Mother-Daughter Team click clacking while she puts a special purple pencil to her Hello Kitty notebook.  With said muse missing, in distress, or chained face down in a river somewhere, I'm madly sending out search parties for her in hopes of joining my li'l girl for NaNo and thousands of words of my own.

 

The clock is counting down and at this point, I would happily accept a wayward muse or even a drunken, wandering muse who hiccups with greater enthusiasm than the hoped for whispering inspirations.

 

Send help.  I'm going to need it.

From Left to Write: Afterwards

Tall black rubber rain boots, navy chino shorts, topped with a nearly too small Pokémon t-shirt.

Utilizing her new skill, she pulls her hair back into a low ponytail, heading for the screen door.

Metal on metal sounds as she slides the worn screen door open, calling out, “I’m coming, Dad!  Wait for me!”

Rain boots making her tiny feet look and sound bigger than they are race across the deck as her ponytail dances on her shoulders, absolutely tickled with delight to help her Dad with yard work.

An audible gasp escapes my lips, caught in one of those rare moments when life simultaneously stands still and flashes forward.

She’s a decade older, a sixteen year old girl a few feet from me, embracing life, even the simple moments.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from the little girl in front of me or from the teenager I’ll one day meet.

She’s burned into my heart now.

Looking forward to when the two girls will become one, but for now, I’ll hold on to the li’l girl and her small hands that still look for encouragement and guidance a while longer.

 

 

This post was inspired by the novel Afterwards by Rosamund Lupton. After witnessing her children's school set ablaze, Grace attempts to find the arsonist as her teenage daughter lies in a coma in Lupton's suspense thriller. Join From Left to Write on April 11 as we discuss Afterwards. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Writer's Workshop: { Seventh Grade Bookends }

 

Boarding the yellow school bus, the last stop on the route, was hell.

There were a lot of us waiting to climb aboard.  There were never enough seats left.  One child made the less-than-brilliant move to mark my li'l brother's neck with ballpoint pen.  It was the '80s and I'd bet my favorite Bic pens were the culprit - I preferred blue, but that day black was used.

That bus.  That bus stop.  Those kids.  I couldn't stand it.

I needed another method of transportation to the seventh grade.  Definitely.

Feet.  They worked.  Often.

On the days I needed to go faster, a bicycle worked.  Black and white ten speed.  Pedals turning.  Chain cycling.  Wheels rotating.  Faster.

Two get-myself-to-school memories are etched into the ol' brain.  Perfectly placed bookends.

Fall.  And then falling.  Autumn coats the air.  Pumping the pedals to climb the last hill to campus.  Two nameless boys in front as I miss the rhythm, pulling a right leg too early to hop off.  Landing hard.

"Eat dirt?!!"

Grumbling internally.  Some unknown, surely less than witty remark to hide the embarrassment, tossed their way.  Rising up to walk the bike the remaining distance.  A big, huge hole at the knee of the only pair of jeans - any pants at all - owned.

I wore skirts the rest of the seventh grade.

By spring, a friend from the same neighborhood, was joining me on the avoid-the-yellow-school-bus trek.

The oh-my-goodness-what-am-I-going-to-tell-my-mom about this or that talk that went on as we walked home caused giggles to erupt.  But, it's The Pole memory that is the solid bookend to the get-myself-to-school memories.

Once a week, the school newspaper - a two sided ditto - came out.  We took turns reading it to each other, whether we were on bike or foot.

Coming out of the wooded patch, onto the steep hill, we climbed.  Once at the top, the street leveled out.  Then it was much easier to dive into the school news.

She read to me, completely captured by whatever tale that courier font regaled.  Listening intently, I no more saw what was in front of her than she did.

A pole.  A light pole?  I don't know what exactly it was in the moment.  But, she walked right into, school newspaper in hand.

SMACK.

From that day on, it was her pole.

Every school day after, she would give her pole a li'l hug as we passed by it, on our way home.

And on the last day of school, we even stopped to photograph her with it.

I'd share it with you, but then I'm sure she'd have to kill me.  And I'm not ready to do dead.

So, that particular seventh grade memory bookend will stay right where it is.

But, I remember both experiences vividly - acid wash jeans destined to become cutoffs after I crashed and burned in front of those boys for me and navy blue shorts, navy blue & white stripped tee for her and her pole.

I. Loved. Seventh. Grade.

You know how I'm sure?

My memory banks are bursting from that particular year.  Thank goodness.

 

Ran with Mama Kat's first prompt: a seventh grade memory.  I had oodles to choose from for that particular year.  So, to keep indecisiveness at bay, I ran with the bookends!

 

What do you remember from your seventh grade year?

 

Great Expectations

Guess where I get to hang out right now?

Greta, the fun, totally real mama of four, invited me to spend the day with her at G*Funki*fied.

Twitter struck again and led my way to the lady with the sassy pants and I'm so glad it did!  She tells it like it is, shares her fun family photos a la her Project 365, working towards her 2013 running goal (she's totally rocking it) with #Mamavation, and we've found a common bond through her own kidlet gluten free journey.  Make sure to join her #iPPP linkup, sharing phone snapped photos on Wednesdays.

Come on over to Greta's place where I'm sharing what happens when I'm desperate...and just how much I trust my husband.  And then stay awhile and visit with Greta!

#iPPP & WW: Valentine's

Thanks to Pinterest, Valentine's Day was a glowing hit here!

Looking for something for upper elementary age kids that didn't include candy, I came across these glow stick bracelet Valentine's.  Initially, I was just thinking of these for my older boy, but the wee girl thought they were so cool and wanted to make them for her class as well.

Source: theteacherwife.blogspot.com via Karen on Pinterest

 

 

Glow sticks send me zipping down Girl Scout memory lane....but, that's another story for another time and another day.

 

Party City had the glow sticks (though, with 49 kids to buy for, these were the most expensive Valentine's we've ever made or bought!) and thankfully, the wee girl had the time and hand cut out all 49 hearts for both her classmates and her brothers.
 

Hubs has never been big on flowers, but ever since having a daughter, he brings me live flowers to plant in the garden every Valentine's Day.

And another one for her!

 

Hope you're enjoying your February.
It's one of my favorite months of the year!

 

 

Linking up with these awesome sites - come join us!

#iPPP with G*Funk*ified & The Sunday Spill

Word-less/ful/ish Wednesday at Seven Clown Circus, Parenting by Dummies, Project Alicia,  Live and Love Out Loud, Jenni from the Blog

#iPPP & WW { The Other Woman }

Driving north, the green freeway signs continued to pass on my right, assuring me the small town my new boyfriend lived in was getting closer.

 

I might have been a touch nervous.  My first visit to his place and I had heard all about the other woman who lived there.

 

Word on the street was how fiercely she ruled the nest.  Supposedly, it could get downright nasty if her claws were out.  She never hesitated to tell any female exactly what she thought of them.

I wanted none of that.

 

No way was she going to interfere with my first visit to my new man.

 

Whipping my li'l white car into the driveway, turning the engine off, grabbing my purse, stepping out and squaring my shoulders.  I climbed the stairs, determined.

 

A single knock on his door and there he is.  Leaning in, he tries to kiss me.  No.

 

"Where is she?"

"What?"

 

"You can have a kiss after.  Where is she?"

 

"Oh.  She's over there, on the couch."

 

Without hesitation, I walked away from him and over to her.

 

Holding out my hand to her, I waited.

 

She sniffed.  She gave me the eye.  She opted to play coy and appear bored.

 

But, I knew.  I was in.

 

You see this sweet, nearly twenty year old kitty?

 

This is Bonnie, the other woman.

 

Legend has it, before I came into the picture, this sweet, innocent looking cat would hiss and spit at any female that came over.  And I'm not a fool, I knew who's fur not to ruffle.  While she merely tolerated me in the beginning, there was never a hiss for me and ultimately, she came to know where to get the best cheek scratches.

 

On January 16th, Bonnie passed away in my husband's arms, just like her brother did three years ago.  This photo was taken two days before she left us, happily soaking up sunshine.

 

We miss her.  But, there are so many sweet and often silly memories with this li'l nine pounder.  She was a Manx/Siamese/Tabby mix and high on personality.

 

In her younger years, you had to keep your eyes peeled with this one.  She was the original Stealth Kitty and could jump up, cross your lap and steal a piece of pepperoni off the slice of pizza in your hand and you would never know - until you looked at said toppingless piece.

 

Bottlecaps were prized kitty toys.

 

There was never a sun's ray she didn't like.

 

The same kidlet who sent her running for the hills when he learned to walk as a tyke later became her best buddy to hang with.  They were amazing calming forces for each other and in her last year, when arthritis was hitching her hips, he was her own personal physical therapist getting her to go on "Walk Races" back and forth, until she no longer limped - every single day.

 

And she was the bomb at the photobomb and never failed to get in on everything I snapped out on her deck.

We love her.  We miss her.  We happily remember her.

 

 

Linking up with these awesome sites - come join us!

#iPPP with G*Funk*ified & The Sunday Spill

Word-less/ful/ish Wednesday at Seven Clown Circus, Parenting by Dummies, Project Alicia,  Live and Love Out Loud, Jenni from the Blog

What are you reading?

 

Here a book, there a book, everywhere a book book.

On a shelf.  Stuffed full, spilling over with pages.

Stacked in closets. Next to bedsides. In cabinets and cupboards.

On a computer. In an app. On a phone.

Books, digital and paper, everywhere.

I love books - both reading and simply books themselves, keepers of information to grow brain bumps with, fantastical tales to get lost in, both the familiar and the foreign.

The words of Chris Pavone's first novel, The Expats have whisked me off to Europe this month. I read it with the From Left to Write book club and shared my response inspired by the book earlier this week. It's a thriller filled with a husband and wife wading through, running from, living their secrets.

 The Hunger Games.  Who hasn't read this one by now?!  That would be me!  At least, not all the way through.  I couldn't get into it and put it down pretty early on.  A Target receipt playing the role of a bookmark has rested on page 43 for the last year.  I am refusing to see the first movie until I read the book though and with the second one, Catching Fire coming out next fall, I pulled it out to get back to reading.  Really hope I catch the Hunger Games bug that infected so many others.

I'm about to dive into is a collaboration by one of my favorite thriller writers, James Rollins and new to me, Rebecca Cantrell.  The Blood Gospel is a blend of thriller, mystery, and horror.  I don't read horror.  I don't even watch horror movies.  So, needless to say, this isn't exactly a genre I would naturally gravitate towards.  Rollins is what sold me on trying it.  So, I read City of Screams, a short story eBook also co-authored by the same two writers that sets up The Blood Gospel late last year in order to give this a shot.

The Taker by Alma Katsu has been waiting more than patiently for me to pick her back up.  I was fortunate to win a copy during a From Left to Write Twitter party and enjoyed tweeting and chatting with the author.  The cover is gorgeous and Alma was kind enough to sign it.  Once again, this is a genre I haven't read much in.  But, I'm enjoying stalking words from books and in new to me genres, opening my eyes to so many other worlds, proving our imaginations are our only limitations.

As bookstores continue to disappear (ack!), I have found a way to compensate by using the samples available for download and reading a little bit from the inside pages to decide what book I'm interested in, which words speak to me most - much like I would inside a book store. (Don't worry, I still haunt bookstores too!)  Currently, I have several different books on Buddhism, Zen, and Romanian Gypsies in my e-reader app, looking at their samples to see which ones need to come home with me, either with paper pages or digital words.

What are you reading?  What's waiting in the wings, hoping to be your next read?  Are you a die hard paper bound book fan?  And exclusive eBook reader?  Or do you, like me, enjoy a harmony of both mediums?

 

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#iPPP & WW { Car Wash Style }

Car washes. I could. not. stand. them as a kid. I had some irrational fear that the whole place would fill up with water; even held my breath while going through them.  Seriously big aversion.

And now?  Love 'em.  Besides the obvious clean car factor, it's fun to take pics while inside the car, inside the wash.

That last one, is overhead, taken through the moon roof.  All of these were snapped with the ever handy phone.  One of these days, I'll remember to take my good camera with me...to add to the already unusually large number of car wash interior water, suds, brush photos already in my files.

It's official.  I'm obsessed.

I'm weird, I know.

That's okay.  Normal is boring.

One Word 2013

One word.

Just one word to see me through 2013.

2013 marks the fourth year of selecting one to march three hundred sixty-five days forward.  Each word and each year have varying levels of connectivity and impact.

2012 and my word, Animate, didn't gel quite so well...which probably played a factor in my late arrival at 2013's word, this twenty-first day of the first month of this new year.  But, 2011 and my word, Grow, taught me just how much focus a solitary word can bring to a year's journey.

Late last year, the word Imagine called to me, but when January 1st arrived, it was no longer set on the navigator's seat.  Act, Do, Forward all rang at the door, but never fully stepped through.

And then in the most surprising fashion, as I wrote the last paragraph for a book club response earlier today, a word that had only whispered so softly before, charged through the door and rather assertively took the navigator's seat.

Create.

One word, Create.

2013, meet Create.

I'm looking forward to our journey together.