Last night, I was upstairs watching "13 going on 30" with my daughter while the boys in the family were downstairs watching a soccer game (that didn't end as happy as our movie). She turned to me and said, "Why would anybody wish they were 30?" I just laughed, so she continued. "I don't want to say that 30 is old, but that's just total grown up." "I know," I said, and then she said, " I mean, if you say your 25, then people say, 'that's kind of young,' but if you say you are thirty, that's not really young anymore."
So, on the eve of my 40th birthday, I must accept that I am well past young. It's funny, because I don't feel that I am soooo far past young. Yes, it is startling to see how much gray has appeared amongst my beautiful, dark locks, and there are days that I can't type much at all because the arthritis in my fingers is bothering me, but I don't think I am that old.
If it is of any comfort, by daughter's best friend said that 52 seems younger than 49. I don't know how that figures, but, ok.
I went to a funeral this week for a woman who was a member of the church congregation I belong to. It was a sad/happyish occasion as it usually is when somebody leaves this life at a very old age. She was the last person alive in her family. Her only brother died young, and her parents and husband had passed on many years before her. Her body had long since rebelled against her, and she was confined to her apartment for several years. Many people would have liked to visit her, but she was too ashamed of her physical condition to allow most people entry into her home. So, she sent letters and stickers frequently to those who she thought might like it. For a time she did become angry at her body and she took it out on the few people who were permitted to see her, but, toward the end, she found her way back to herself and asked forgiveness of those she had been so impatient with. They readily granted it.
Sister Anne, as she preferred to be called, was a small woman in body, but a great woman in heart and mind. She was friendly and generous, and she could be friendly and generous in three languages. Her native tongue was French, she made Germany her home as an adult, and English was the language required of her in her place of work. She enjoyed classical music and great literature.
I only have a few memories of her because it was not long after we moved here that she became home-bound.
Here is the moment I remember most:
It was testimony meeting at church, which is like open mic night at the poetry cafe or comedy club except that it is daytime and it is expected that the words spoken be of a religious nature.
Sister Anne got up and part of what she said, roughly translated, was: When I was younger, and all the other people my age were going out dancing,I was home alone. No boy would ask me to dance because I was not pretty, so I stayed in my room and read books and listened to music. I didn't get married until I was over 50 years old, and I was amazed that it ever happened. My husband really loved me, but I could never understand that. I didn't think anybody would ever be in love with me because I am so ugly.
I don't remember much else of what she said, but I do remember my heart screaming out to her. How could somebody not love you? You're amazing!
She was everything a woman should be, and I'm sorry I couldn't know her longer, but I'm happy for her that she gets to be with her loved ones on the other side.
Au revoir, soeur Anne.
- I've been exercising regularly along with eating more vegetables and fewer chocolate bars. That takes more time than I thought it would, but I think I needed it. Walking briskly to get my son from preschool was becoming a strain, and it shouldn't have been.
- My neighbor died a few months ago. Suddenly. Leaving behind two little girls (4 and 7 years old) and a young wife. He was in his early 30s, and one night, his heart just stopped. One day I saw him walking his daughter home from preschool, and a few days later, he was gone. Shocking and terrifying. You just never know. I felt horrible for a long time, and every time I see them, I still feel sad, but they have been trying to be strong and carry on with life, so I try to act "normal" around them. It has been more difficult that I would have thought.
- DH was elected to city council. We wouldn't want him to get bored, would we?
- I re-started my latest writing venture with a different POV.
- My little Bulldozer turned six, and is all ready to start school after the summer vacation.
- My oldest has become a teenager, and we are experiencing some interesting side effects.
- Princess has started to talk about boys. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
- I have started working on my Spanish skills. The mom of one of the girls at Bulldozer's preschool asked me if I would help her work on her English, and, because she is a native Spanish speaker, I asked her if we could also work on my Spanish. Let me just say that I seem to have forgotten more than I ever knew I knew.
Happy Monday to all and to all a good week.
How's it going? It's not. It seems that the powers of the universe and my children have come together to keep me from reaching this goal.
I was typing and typing an trying to force my way through. I was getting grumpy and frustrated because I was not being allowed the time I needed to "win" nanowrimo. And then, I hit a brick wall. Things had gotten off track. I could have just kept trudging on, but I knew it would only end up being wrong. The only way for me to get things right was for me to START OVER. More than halfway through November is way too late to START, so, yeah . . .
At this point, I would like to thank Toni Morrison for two things she said.
First of all, she said that sometimes you have to take a break from your writing to cuddle with your two year-old because you won't always have a two year-old to cuddle with. I don't have a two year-old that needs to be cuddled, but I do have a five year-old who has discovered board games. I also have an eleven year-old who has decided she needs to learn to cook, and an almost thirteen year-old who has started distributing free newspapers around town (the only job he is old enough to take), and it is a bit more than he can handle, which means that I have also started to distribute these free newspapers (we will probably be quitting soon). So, not that I need Toni Morrison's permission, but it helped put thing into perspective for me.
The second thing Toni Morrison said that helped me to let go was that it took her 5 years to finish Bluest Eyes - not that I think that what I have written compares, in any way, to what she has written. Still, it helps to be reminded that even if I got 50k words on paper by the end of the month, it would take much, much longer to get the novel finished.
As much as I hate to quit/fail, this was the only option that felt right.
This is what has been happening:
* Mom and her hubby came over for some sightseeing and, in exchange for us acting as travel agents and tour guides, paid for our trip. We saw Paris, Amsterdam, Brussels, Nürnburg/Erlangen, Cologne, and Aachen. Paris awed me, Amsterdam charmed me, Brussels sugarized me, Nürnburg/Erlangen felt like coming home, the cathedral in Cologne made my mother's jaw drop, and Aachen housed us in between our day trips to the Benelux countries (minus the -lux part).
* The children went back to school and came home every day for the first two weeks with another list of items they needed to buy.
* DH and I reached our 15 year mark. GOOD JOB! Man, not to say that it wasn't great, but it was work. So, dear husband, here's to another 15 - or more, depending on how long we both live, and why don't we throw in an eternity while we're at it. Because, even though we were practically strangers when we got married, you are the person who not only gets my snarky comments, you anticipate them in all the right situations. And, you know when to fall asleep during my midnight insane rants about . . . whatever because, at some point, though my mouth may not be, my brain is off.
* My first born has found an old leather jacket, handed down from somebody and then stored in the basement, and he has informed me that he would prefer to only wear blue-jeans and white t-shirts with it. Pretty soon he is going to start holding up his thumbs and saying "hey!"
* I joined a fitness club. It's one of those places just for women, and it's called, Mrs.Sporty. At least it isn't McFit (yes, that really is the name of a chain of fitness studios in Germany). I never thought I was the type, but, it turns out, I am. Actually, I'm just desperate, and running didn't capture my passion. Thanks, honey, for not bringing up those running shoes I bought last Spring and used exactly once. Ok, and the swimsuit and goggles I bought the year before which I have never used at all.
* Interesting sounding books which have come out recently: First of all, Denise Jaden's LOSING FAITH. It sounds like a great mystery/thriller, and I have read a lot of good things about it. Also, THE DUFF: (Designated ugly fat friend) by Kody Keplinger interests me. Just because: been there done that, you know. Plus, I want to see what the author does with this idea. And, last but no least, I want to read MY FAKE BOYFRIEND IS BETTER THAN YOURS by Kristina Springer. The title sounds light and funny (who hasn't invented a fake boyfriend, right?), but since it is set in junior high, it is bound to bring up a few not so light and funny memories.
So, that's it, folks. I've gotta go because my in-laws are coming tomorrow, and, of course, the place looks a mess. Wish me luck getting it sort of presentable by they time they arrive.
Here is a link to Kimberley's website where you can read about this book and the companion book which is coming soon: link
Oh, I loved this book. Beautiful story. Beautiful writing. This one is a keeper and read over again and again to yourself and your children. This is one you will want to read slowly so you can savor that Louisiana Bayou feeling.
I'm sorry, my dear Karen, but it only took me a day. I know you slaved over this for much longer, and I really did savor it, but I couldn't hold myself back. I had to keep reading without pause until it was done. Lucky for me, I own it, and I can read it again as slowly and in as many tasty morsels as I want.
You can read more about this book here.
www.karenkincy.com/
You know how there are these female MCs in YA fiction who are all whiny and annoying, completely without any self esteem, or angry and bitter? Well, Gwen is not one of them. Don't get me wrong, she doesn't think of herself as very beautiful, her parents and sister can really drive her nuts, and she has plenty to worry about as far as being accepted by her peers etc. because being Other, or in Gwen's case, part-Other is something that brings with it the usual truckload of problems associated with being part of a feared, misunderstood minority. So, yes, she cries - kind of a lot - in this book, but you would cry, too, if it happened to you. No wallowing in self-pity, though. Just plain sorrow and mourning, but not in a way that weighs down the whole story. I mean all that heartbreak and still a feeling of hope and empowerment is quite an accomplishment.
I'm botching this, but what I am trying to say is: Thank you, Karen Kincy, for introducing me to a girl I would like to be friends with and an ex-boyfriend I could still love even though he really did let us down.
2. I actually wrote a few hundred new words for a wip, and it was great. Revising is exciting when you see improvement, but sometimes I have the feeling that I tweak and tweak and end up with a tweaked manuscript, not a better one. So working on something that is new is WONDERFUL.
3. I swear that I cleaned the floor. Why does it look just as bad as before? I can't seem to get over this housekeeping thing. And, I have to admit that I was very happy today when I stopped by a friend's house and it looked just like mine. Nevermind that she has two more children than I do and one of this is only 18 months old. It just feels good to know that I am not alone in this eternal struggle against chaos.
4. Less than a month of school this year. I'm really glad that summer vacation is only six weeks long here. We have a two day trip to Paris planned for this summer. I am getting the impression that the "Learn French in 30 Days" book and cassette that I checked out of the library isn't going to get me fluent. Every little bit helps, though, right?.
5. We have had some great storms the past two nights. Exciting when it is going on, but it makes it so HUMID. Yuck. Oh well, we have beautiful green vegetation all around and we don't need sprinklers.
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Sarah Yadon