Dear Mom,
I decided after this letter, that my writing to you might be less frequent. All that talk about following your dreams has me thinking I need to work harder in pursuing my goal—my dream. I’ll keep you informed.
I have four books that sit unfinished. I have a complete rough draft for two, and the other two won’t take much to have a complete draft, but the real work is in the rewriting, revising, and editing. It seems as soon as I’m near the end with one story, I start another thinking it will help me finish the last one. I’m wondering if this isn’t just an excuse. Or a deep hidden fear. I’ve decided to work right through the fear—wherever it takes me. Having made that decision, I signed up for the Missouri Writers’ Guild conference, “Just Write” taking place April 8-10.
All—okay, almost all—socializing will be put on hold until after the conference. I have work to do!
It’s funny, I make a decision to do something—especially focusing on my writing—and more ideas come to surface. Even though this makes no sense to me to start another blog when I’m telling you my letter writing will be less frequent, I’ve learned to listen to that inner voice regardless of how ridiculous it seems.
Lynn, What’s for Dinner? popped in my head after a conversation with my friend Kim. It’s haunted me ever since. I’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Wait, that’s really an awful saying isn’t it? I’d never kill one bird with a stone, much less two. The purpose of what I’m doing is twofold: writing and figuring out what’s for dinner. As an added bonus, I’m helping others figure out what to have, if they desire.
There are other What’s for Dinner blogs out there so it’s not an original idea like I had first thought, but mine will have it’s own unique style.
I’m sure I’ve learned to cook through osmosis from you, and I’ll be sharing some of your dinner ideas that I remember when I was little.
Check out Lynn, What’s for Dinner? (lynnowhatsfordinner.blogspot.com). Follow me daily or any time you need an idea about what to have for dinner.
Bon Appetite!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
One Year and 41st Anniversary
Dear Mom,
It was a year ago today that I started this blog. Take a look at Forty Years Ago Today. Now another year has passed and it’s 41 years ago that I felt stunned by the news although I knew it was coming unlike Ruthie.
In the middle of the night before you died, Ruthie and I were carried over to Aunt Tish and Uncle Mart’s house.
I had written s a little piece about that morning, then Ruthie and I talked about it. Our versions are different of course. Don’t we all have different versions of the same incident? I told her I don’t remember crying. She told me that she remembers me bawling my eyes out while in our aunt and uncle's house after Dad came in, while she stood watching me, trying to figure out why I was crying so hard. She thought she had better cry too and faked it. She was in total shock not having a clue as to what had happened. Ruthie not knowing makes me feel so sad.
It was a year ago today that I started this blog. Take a look at Forty Years Ago Today. Now another year has passed and it’s 41 years ago that I felt stunned by the news although I knew it was coming unlike Ruthie.
In the middle of the night before you died, Ruthie and I were carried over to Aunt Tish and Uncle Mart’s house.
I had written s a little piece about that morning, then Ruthie and I talked about it. Our versions are different of course. Don’t we all have different versions of the same incident? I told her I don’t remember crying. She told me that she remembers me bawling my eyes out while in our aunt and uncle's house after Dad came in, while she stood watching me, trying to figure out why I was crying so hard. She thought she had better cry too and faked it. She was in total shock not having a clue as to what had happened. Ruthie not knowing makes me feel so sad.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Book Blurb Friday #2
It's clear as you read my book blurbs that I'm not very good at this and so why I continue to torture and embarrass myself, I'm really not sure. This is the first "meme" (had to find out what that really meant) that I've participated in and so I guess I plan to try and do it each week... for the challenge.
What is Book Blurb Friday for anyone who is seeing this on my blog and has no idea? It's my blogger friend, Lisa (Writing in the Buff) who has challenged us to write a book cover based on the photo she posts (this photo is by her daughter, Christina). The book blurb has to be 150 words or less. I almost doubled my word count from the first Book Blurb. Word count this time: 85
For more details about Book Blurb Friday visit Lisa's blog.
Here we go:
Title: Going Places
Every time Obermoeller feels blue, she goes there… to those woods. Napping under the tree as the sun comforts her. She remembers it like yesterday the first time she stood in those woods at age three. What happened to Obermoeller in those woods fifty years ago? And how does she get to that place now as a paraplegic? Find out in Obermoeller’s true story to learn the gift of traveling out of your body so you can go to places that you’ve never dreamed possible.
What is Book Blurb Friday for anyone who is seeing this on my blog and has no idea? It's my blogger friend, Lisa (Writing in the Buff) who has challenged us to write a book cover based on the photo she posts (this photo is by her daughter, Christina). The book blurb has to be 150 words or less. I almost doubled my word count from the first Book Blurb. Word count this time: 85
For more details about Book Blurb Friday visit Lisa's blog.
Here we go:
Title: Going Places
Every time Obermoeller feels blue, she goes there… to those woods. Napping under the tree as the sun comforts her. She remembers it like yesterday the first time she stood in those woods at age three. What happened to Obermoeller in those woods fifty years ago? And how does she get to that place now as a paraplegic? Find out in Obermoeller’s true story to learn the gift of traveling out of your body so you can go to places that you’ve never dreamed possible.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Follow Your Dream
Dear Mom,
I’ve often wondered if you ever had a dream of wanting to do something other than being a housewife. I’ve asked your sister once if she knew and she was pretty sure that you wanted to be a housewife and that was it. And that’s not bad mind you, as I love being a housewife myself, but I also have other dreams—being a published writer... of a book. Books. Right now I’m settling for plain writer.
What about when you were little? For instance, I had dreams of being a famous ballerina, a drummer in a band like Ringo of the Beatles, and also a pianist. Although I always loved writing letters even back then, being a writer never entered my head. I’m only guessing I felt it took more intelligence that I didn’t think I had. Not that those other dreams didn’t require intelligence, I was just clueless.
But along the way, I found my dreams being crushed and I finally gave in to listening to Dad to become a secretary. As you know he came from the era where women didn’t need a career because they’d marry and have babies. But if one did have to work, then secretary seemed the likely solution, so secretary it was.
Those skills proved beneficial now as a writer—organization, typing, multi-tasking, patience with men. Oh wait, that’s not required for writing or is it?
I have an idea why I didn’t pursue my dreams—couldn’t see beyond to think out of the box. It was easier for me to blame someone else. But I finally woke up and knew it was my responsibility. I decided I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen with my children.
I'd tell them: You have a dream? I'm behind you but you have to work at it, follow it, feed it, allow it to grow. I can't do it for you. No one can make it happen but you. If you want it bad enough, you’ll figure out a way despite anyone or anything. And, do what you love!
I feel like they all are doing just that.
Mom, if your dream was to be a housewife, then I’m happy it was fulfilled. God knows you excelled at it. But if it wasn’t and deep down somewhere you longed to do something else, then a piece of me is sad for you. And that inspires me all the more to fulfill my own dreams.
I’ve often wondered if you ever had a dream of wanting to do something other than being a housewife. I’ve asked your sister once if she knew and she was pretty sure that you wanted to be a housewife and that was it. And that’s not bad mind you, as I love being a housewife myself, but I also have other dreams—being a published writer... of a book. Books. Right now I’m settling for plain writer.
What about when you were little? For instance, I had dreams of being a famous ballerina, a drummer in a band like Ringo of the Beatles, and also a pianist. Although I always loved writing letters even back then, being a writer never entered my head. I’m only guessing I felt it took more intelligence that I didn’t think I had. Not that those other dreams didn’t require intelligence, I was just clueless.
But along the way, I found my dreams being crushed and I finally gave in to listening to Dad to become a secretary. As you know he came from the era where women didn’t need a career because they’d marry and have babies. But if one did have to work, then secretary seemed the likely solution, so secretary it was.
Those skills proved beneficial now as a writer—organization, typing, multi-tasking, patience with men. Oh wait, that’s not required for writing or is it?
I have an idea why I didn’t pursue my dreams—couldn’t see beyond to think out of the box. It was easier for me to blame someone else. But I finally woke up and knew it was my responsibility. I decided I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen with my children.
I'd tell them: You have a dream? I'm behind you but you have to work at it, follow it, feed it, allow it to grow. I can't do it for you. No one can make it happen but you. If you want it bad enough, you’ll figure out a way despite anyone or anything. And, do what you love!
I feel like they all are doing just that.
Mom, if your dream was to be a housewife, then I’m happy it was fulfilled. God knows you excelled at it. But if it wasn’t and deep down somewhere you longed to do something else, then a piece of me is sad for you. And that inspires me all the more to fulfill my own dreams.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Something New - Book Blurb Friday #1
My blogger friend, Lisa Ricard Claro - Writing in the Buff - is holding a weekly writing challenge. In 150 words or less, create a title for a book along with a blurb - Lisa provides the photo.
So here is my lame attempt (and in 44 words):
Title: Be Your Own Private ‘Eye’
Why pay someone big bucks to spy for you? Learn what the professional private investigators know. Obermoeller shares her 25 years of experience that will save you money but gives you the same results. And see if someone might be spying on you!
So here is my lame attempt (and in 44 words):
Title: Be Your Own Private ‘Eye’Why pay someone big bucks to spy for you? Learn what the professional private investigators know. Obermoeller shares her 25 years of experience that will save you money but gives you the same results. And see if someone might be spying on you!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Homemade Gifts
Dear Mom,
This past Christmas everyone in the family made each other gifts. I created notebooks for everyone. Robyn made her dad a collage of photos she had taken that spelled his name. All the photos were pictures of something in our house. She and Logan painted a candle for me with the word HU on it.
My son Casey made—not sure what you call them—plaques that have our initials inked and painted. He created the lettering, along with the design. All the symbols have a certain meaning, which I'm still waiting to have in writing, as I can't remember.
Rita made Casey a braided rug out of scraps of material. She made me a multitude of scarves—one knitted, one out of handkerchiefs, one sewn with lace, one of scrunchy material. Rita made her sister Jessica a miniature hat. Before Jessica opened it, she gave Rita her gift—miniature hats! It was pretty funny. They both had seen these hats at a craft fair and each decided to make one for the other. Here they are sporting their hats.
There’s nothing like a homemade gift, don’t you think?
Rita started a blog and craft business: Egabrag – we turn your garbage around. Mom, if you were alive, I have no doubt that you'd be crafting with your grandkids!
Oh and here I am in my Hoody Footy...
This past Christmas everyone in the family made each other gifts. I created notebooks for everyone. Robyn made her dad a collage of photos she had taken that spelled his name. All the photos were pictures of something in our house. She and Logan painted a candle for me with the word HU on it.
My son Casey made—not sure what you call them—plaques that have our initials inked and painted. He created the lettering, along with the design. All the symbols have a certain meaning, which I'm still waiting to have in writing, as I can't remember.
Rita made Casey a braided rug out of scraps of material. She made me a multitude of scarves—one knitted, one out of handkerchiefs, one sewn with lace, one of scrunchy material. Rita made her sister Jessica a miniature hat. Before Jessica opened it, she gave Rita her gift—miniature hats! It was pretty funny. They both had seen these hats at a craft fair and each decided to make one for the other. Here they are sporting their hats.
There’s nothing like a homemade gift, don’t you think?Rita started a blog and craft business: Egabrag – we turn your garbage around. Mom, if you were alive, I have no doubt that you'd be crafting with your grandkids!
Oh and here I am in my Hoody Footy...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
What is Age Anyway?
Dear Mom,
On February 26th it will be your birthday. You would have been 94, passing on 15 days after your 53rd birthday. On my last birthday I turned 53. Fifteen days after that would make it January 28th—reaching the point of being older than you when you died.
Seems kind of morbid talking about it like that, but I would think that anyone who has lost their mother at a young age feels that way. Will I live as long as my mom? My older sister and brother have been in the clear for a while now. Little sister Ruthie still has some time to go—not much. I guess the next age we shoot for is passing Dad’s age of death. He was 89—four months shy of his 90th. What does it all mean? Who knows. Just random thinking.
If you were alive, I’d give you a foot massage and a pedicure. Chances are I’d be doing that for you anyway. I did it for Dad. He had some thick toenails. One time I struggled so much trying to cut them that the big clippers slipped and I cut too close and made him bleed. I felt so bad. He didn’t trust me after that. “Lynn, not too close!” and I can’t blame him.
If I recall, your toenails were thicker. I’d probably need a hacksaw to trim them. I think my children have already made it clear that they are not going to be giving me a pedicure. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut when I finished doing Dad’s toes. Then I might have a chance of getting a pedicure in my old age.
I remember when I was little, I didn’t really think of you as old, but I did think that my best friend’s mom was especially young—and she was! Now that I’m the age that you died, I think how young! But I really suppose it’s all in our attitude and how we feel.
But life is what it is… and whatever you are doing these days, Happy Birthday!
On February 26th it will be your birthday. You would have been 94, passing on 15 days after your 53rd birthday. On my last birthday I turned 53. Fifteen days after that would make it January 28th—reaching the point of being older than you when you died.
Seems kind of morbid talking about it like that, but I would think that anyone who has lost their mother at a young age feels that way. Will I live as long as my mom? My older sister and brother have been in the clear for a while now. Little sister Ruthie still has some time to go—not much. I guess the next age we shoot for is passing Dad’s age of death. He was 89—four months shy of his 90th. What does it all mean? Who knows. Just random thinking.
If you were alive, I’d give you a foot massage and a pedicure. Chances are I’d be doing that for you anyway. I did it for Dad. He had some thick toenails. One time I struggled so much trying to cut them that the big clippers slipped and I cut too close and made him bleed. I felt so bad. He didn’t trust me after that. “Lynn, not too close!” and I can’t blame him.
If I recall, your toenails were thicker. I’d probably need a hacksaw to trim them. I think my children have already made it clear that they are not going to be giving me a pedicure. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut when I finished doing Dad’s toes. Then I might have a chance of getting a pedicure in my old age.
I remember when I was little, I didn’t really think of you as old, but I did think that my best friend’s mom was especially young—and she was! Now that I’m the age that you died, I think how young! But I really suppose it’s all in our attitude and how we feel.
But life is what it is… and whatever you are doing these days, Happy Birthday!
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