The "Flea!"

Bronze Chinese Horse - $10

Changes!

Wow!  Just decided to change just about everything about my blog.  Unless you're a member of my family, you probably could care less about my Books.  Ergo:  let's talk about anything of mutual interest, other peoples' books...the weather...movies...cooking.  Maybe a certain day for certain subjects.  You know, like "Wednesday is Prince Spaghetti Day."  On second thought, maybe not. 
Today it's baking.   Just how hard is it to make a cake from a mix?  It seems to be beyond my skill level today.  Granted, I was embellishing, making a coconut filling like the old Bundt Cake mixes, but I've certainly done that before.  LSS..all the ingredients were sitting out for my use.  Two eggs for the filling and three eggs for the cake.  Made the filling.  It was the perfect consistency and quite yummy.  Made the cake (remember, this is a mix) and poured it into the pan.  Put the filling on in precisely the right spot and shoved the whole thing into the oven.  Started cleaning up. Wash bowls and utensils. Put away ingredient containers.  Wipe the counter...wait.  Why are there 3 eggs sitting here?
I ended up patting the cake together with my hands while it was still a bit warm.  Even the glaze can't disguise the mess that is my cake.   I guess tomorrow It'll be a different subject, I hope one with more success.

Prompt: : write about being made fun of.

Being made fun of....hmmmm.  Not usually a pleasant experience, but if we're lucky we can find the humor and poke fun at ourselves.  A while back I had a gathering of friends at my home.  We were all gathered in the kitchen as usual and I'm sure a bit of wine or other spirits had been passed.  I remember standing at the stove, preparing some culinary masterpiece , I'm sure and probably talking trash about politics or the state of the world in general, when one of my friends remarked , "You certainly are sarcastic."  I stopped everything...turned to my friend and said, "Sarcastic!  Who, me?"   The entire room burst out laughing for evidently they had come to the conclusion quite some time ago that I treated most people and things in a very sarcastic manner.  I was the only one surprised but upon consideration had to agree.  I'm trying to be better but it's become second nature to me, so it's a struggle.  Long story, and all that...now whenever the word is mentioned, we all say, "Who, me?"

On a different subject, altogether...it has been suggested that a writer's blog contain more varied and interesting things than just little brags and blurbs about writing.   Recipes, photos, craft instructions, games, links, etc.   Anyone have an opinion on that.  Of course, I want people to be interested enough to come back but how do these things pertain to the craft of writing?  Should there somehow be a  connection?   How would one accomplish this?

Prompt: : write about "the last time..."

The last time we had an actual Ballroom Dance lesson was at the Opera House Ballroom.  There were couples there from both sides of the border and I must say that our neighbors to the North were exceedingly stuck-up.  We Americans just didn't dance or teach dance properly.  Now there may be some truth to this, but after all...they were our guests.  Back to the story...the instructors were teaching some advanced turns for Samba and even though we can barely manage the beginners' steps we decided, "why not?  Maybe we can use the turns in another dance."  So it started.  Three instructors going around observing the 20 or so couples trying to move it and shake it and our favorite teacher wearing a mic. walking everyone through the steps of a double handed, over and under, behind the back, double turn that had us so tangled up we could no longer move.  Teacher comes over..."chuckles...Well, how do we fix this?  Patti, you need to lower your left elbow."  I reply into the mic. ,"I can't."   Everyone laughs, including myself,  because it's well known that when I get flustered I confuse my right and left.  Instructor points to my left elbow, pointing awkwardly toward the ceiling, and says," This one."   "Oh." I say.  "Okay."  By this time the other instructors have gathered round to see the action...sort of like the way you just have to look at an accident...and Teacher gently unwinds our arms and legs one step at a time so that we actually complete the turn.   We left soon after.  It was winter and we had a long drive home.  Right.

Writing prompts

There is a group that I belong to that issues a "writing prompt"  everyday.   The idea is to take the prompt...  start writing about the first thing that comes to mind and continue for 10 minutes.  I've done a few on the site when the "prompt"  was something that struck a chord, but have been telling myself I needn't do the subjects I didn't like.   A rationalization, a poor excuse.  It has been suggested that I put those im"prompt"u  writings here.  I guess I'll try it for a bit and see what happens.  Starting tomorrow.

more books

to continue my lists of books...
"Polliwog Pond"...another nature based picture book, detailing the life of a Leopard Frog, from egg to polliwog and all the changes that occur as "she"  becomes something entirely new. 

"Bonjour, Beatrice"....a fictionalized account of my mother's 3 year stay in an Ursuline Convent and Boarding School in the Montreal area after the death of her father in the flu epidemic of 1918.  she was only 8 years old when this happened and was reunited with her family after contracting Scarlet Fever...no antibiotics then...no radio, TV, Cell phones, only school and dormitories and nightgown rules, oh yes...and lots of prayers.

I'm currently working on three new books....all of them a departure from my usual genre.  Have found that multitasking in writing is not my forte.  Need to pick one and finish at least a first draft.  Will talk about these later.
    Here is a  drawing I did of Beatrice in a realistic version of the uniform of the day.   Black garbardine, black stockings and sensible shoes.

                                                         

2012

I hope everyone enjoyed bringing, ringing in the New Year.  Started with a visit to the kids , more presents for E and a lovely lunch.   Nothing much in the evening, but did turn on the tube to watch the Ball drop at Times Square.  Sometimes I think that it would be great fun to be there and share all that excitement, but usually the feeling passes like Scrooge would say like " an undigested bit of beef."
One more day of Holiday time and things will have to get back to normal.  Is there such a thing in anyone's life?   By normal I mean actually doing some writing on a regular basis and even submitting a picture book or two to some bewildered editor who will say..."OMG!  I'm so lucky to have found this ms. today.  Quick, minion...call this wonder worker...this gift to the children of the world and let us offer her a wonderful deal! "   Wow.  I really can write fiction.
I just remembered  that I was making a list of my books.  I really must get organized.
Perhaps tomorrow.   Happy New Year to all and Sundry!