Thursday, February 27, 2014

Rainy Day Madness

      My rain jacket failed me today. I moved plants outside all day. In the rain. I don't know what happened to the component that makes said jacket waterproof. 

      It up and left.

      Me wet. :(

      My boots aren't very waterproof either. Neither are jeans. Luckily my co worker had brought a pair of pants in that didn't fit her anymore. They fit me perfectly. That was the upside to the day. 

      Apparently I'm not adequately prepared for this job. Hmm. But who knew the rain jacket leaked? Who knew that I was bone headed enough to leave my rain pants in the car? They made their appearance after I changed pants. The rain pants prevent the rain from soaking my clothes. Maybe they need to have a talk with the jacket. 

      My hands are yellow. YELLOW. Why are they yellow you might ask? When my gloves get wet the dye from the gloves bleed onto my hands. 

       It takes a very long time for the yellow dye to leave my skin. Just sayin.

      I'm freezing now. I came home and showered, then had a hot dinner. Now I just can't get warm.

      And now my nose is half running and half stuffed. 

      When was the last time something failed that you rely upon? Are you one of those people that are always prepared? Do you learn from your lessons, or does it take a couple of times?
W.P.I.- There are some major signs that plants will show if they are being over-watered. First, plant leaves turn brown and wilt when plants have too little and too much water. If the plant looks wilted, yet the soil seems moist, it is getting too much water. Stunted slow growth is a symptom of over-watering. Finally, yellowing leaves is a sure sign of too much water. 


Monday, February 24, 2014

I Hear You

            Have you ever caught yourself listening to someone else’s conversation? You don’t mean to, it just happens. Maybe those people involved are intense, or loud, or right behind you so it’s hard not to notice. Or maybe those conversations happened under your window at some unearthly hour of the morning. Just sayin. It could happen. Trust me. J

            Now, being a writer, I do have a very, very wild imagination. Sometimes I hear a couple of young 20 something’s in a conversation and think I could spin that in a New Adult book. Out at dinner the other evening there were two brothers sitting in a booth behind me. Their conversation was loud enough for me to hear easily without straining. J At one point the more talkative brother sounded almost like Dr. Phil. That was an interesting conversation. All the more possibilities for small tidbits in books.

            Those were the overheard conversations that I just randomly overheard. The next couple are conversations that may or may not have happened outside our windows in the wee hours of the morning. May have. Well, really they did. I couldn’t make this up.

            Last weekend I woke to a male voice under the bedroom window. This voice was intense, and yelling. “Gus, don’t hang up. What do you see? Don’t hang up! I’m coming to get you. Gus?” It got quiet for a minute so I thought the man kept walking. But no, a few seconds later I heard, “Gus, don’t hang up. I’ll find you, just don’t hang up.”

            Now, there could probably be nothing worse to get my mind going at such an early morning hour that a conversation like that. I immediately started running different scenarios through my mind. Was Gus drunk? On drugs? Hurt? I also found myself thinking about Gus later on that day, and wondering if he was found, and alright.

            A similar situation happened this morning. I can only relate part of the words I heard however, because most of them would be bleeped out if it were a television show. I have just finished working 50 physically demanding hours in five days, so I was exhausted. When my head hit the pillow Saturday night I was out, and I didn’t want to wake up Sunday until I had to. But no. In the hours that no one should be awake I heard a mans voice say, “Joe, no!” Then I didn’t hear anything for a minute or two. Next all I heard was one word repeatedly. The F word. And it was loud. I heard it from one corner of the block to the next corner. I have no idea what happened to this man yelling obscenities, or this person named Joe, but my mind started spinning different ideas. My first thought was someone named Joe just took off and left this guy, possibly stealing something from the man. My next thought was more disturbing. What if the F word man was on the phone and something happened to that Joe?

            Maybe my tired brain started putting those two stories together. Who knows? These odd things I hear outside our windows every now and then are giving me different ideas for additions to books already in progress.

            I’m not complaining. I’m living where I want, and I love it. I wouldn’t change a thing. ;) I can handle the occasional loud talk under my windows as long as I can spin it into something useful for me!

            Do you live in the city, outskirts, or country? When is the last time you’ve been awoke by voices outside? Do you tend to eavesdrop on conversations? (Accidentally, of course!)   


Thursday, February 20, 2014


            I’m not always going to write about the girl from Podunk who moved to the city, I promise you. I’m not always going to write about that city, Savannah. But today I am. J That’s the pleasure of having your own blog! Sometimes I feel like I give you too much of me, others I feel like I've been disconnected. Is it just me?

            If you've followed me for a while you know I hope to one day be a published author. That is one of the reasons I started this whole blog thing. I’m trying to develop a following, you see. So I give you some pieces of me, hoping to display parts of my humor. Hoping you will like me and follow along. Hoping you’ll tell your friends, and they’ll follow along. *chuckle* (Born salesman I am not!)

            So I blog, or rant. I tell stories of me, my family, my dogs, and my life. Every now and then I’ll throw in a blog about reading, or writing. Ya know, to try and pull it all together. I’ve even posted a chapter or two of a work in progress, or an entry from a competition. I haven’t done that lately, but now that life has settled down some I plan on it.

            Why now?

            This city inspires me. Immensely. One day I took a stroll to one of the city’s squares (park) and settled down on a bench. From my backpack I pulled out my notebook. I opened up to a blank page, took in the sights of the park, lowered my head, and started writing a scene for a New Adult book I am slowly working on. I sat there for an hour and the words flowed. Every now and then I would pause and look around. Tourists meandered through the square. Spanish moss danced from the limbs of the mighty Oaks. And the scene kept playing in my head. Inspiration seems to be in the air.

            As I walk the dogs I take in the sights, sounds, and smells. I people watch and spin different stories about two teens I see who are engaged in an intense conversation, about the lonely woman walking her dog, or about the two elderly people walking hand in hand. Yes, I’m inspired.

            I seem to live close to a lot of churches. There are four squares nearby that I walk to that have a church settled on one end or the other. One in particular has inspired another story in my head. This one plays a lot in my mind. Even though I’m in the slow as hell process of revising my second book I’m actually trying to write (even if its bits and pieces) parts to another book besides the New Adult. Two books at once? Yes. Crazy I know. I wish I had more time to dedicate to writing them, but I do what I can.

            When the Charmed One is out of town I sometimes find myself settling in at a local restaurant. I get a drink, place my order, and start writing. There is something about the atmosphere and the people there that inspire the words to flow. Now I just need a bigger notebook!

            On top of that I’m back to working 40 plus hours a week. These are physically demanding ten hours days and they kick the heck out of me. It is all I can do to stay awake for a couple hours after I get home. Writing and revising is for my days off. It is a slow process, but I’m sure that one day I’ll see one of my books in a store and grin from ear to ear. One day. Until then I’ll keep walking, keep taking in the sights and sounds, keep listening to those church bells. And the voices in my head. J I’ll keep being inspired by this beautiful city.   

            Is there something or somewhere that inspires you? Have you ever felt physically drawn to something? What is the last book you read? Did you like it?

W.P.I. - has an interesting section about meanings of flowers. Low and behold I learned that the Iris means inspiration. The Iris is also the state flower of Tennessee and the flower for the month of February. (Interesting since most irises don’t bloom then…)

Monday, February 17, 2014


      I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out what to talk to you guys about. I've got some things going on in my life, but noting that is very interesting. It seems when I started writing this blog quirky incidences would happen to me that needed to be told, like the one entitled We Were Never. Or I would come up with hair brained thoughts that stayed with me, like Package Design 101. After a whirlwind December and January that I really don't care to recall, life has settled down again. Trust me, I'm glad about that. We are settling in to new jobs and a new life in Savannah. The stories will come, trust me.

      Until then I've found some rather interesting pics I thought you all might like. Take this one for example...

      Do you think that person lost a bet, or, I don't know, plans on robbing a bank? I would hope not, but what other reason would one have for wearing a chicken/rooster hat with beak in public? I'll really accept any answer here. :)

      Okay, now that you've absorbed that one let's try this one on for size?

      I really don't have words for that one. The car doesn't have a license plate on it either. Why doesn't that surprise me?

      Okay, those didn't do it for you? Let's try this one...

      "Testing one, two. Is this thing on???"

      Let's try this one on for size!

      Honestly when I saw this I smiled. If those kids had red hair I would've thought this could've been my brother Shawn and I. I know there was times he had the crazy thoughts like this guy seems to be having. Don't do it! Don't do it! Of course, if the roles were reversed the same thing could've easily happened!

      One last pic, I promise!

      Have you ever felt like you've been in the wrong place at the wrong time? And can't you just hear someone yelling, "On your mark, get set, GO!"

      Did any of these make you smile? Did you have a sibling relationship like the one above? Do quirky things happen to you on a regular basis?

You can also find me at:

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Olympic Dedication

      It seems like I've been talking waaay too much about me lately, and not nearly enough on everyone else. Its hard to write about anyone else though. I mean, I could make some things up. That could be fun. But I really don't think it'd make for good blogging material. So I've decided I'd talk about some other people. 

      Like the Olympians.

      Every four years I rub my hands in anticipation for the Winter Olympics. I absolutely love the winter sports. If you know me, you know I'm the hockey girl. My second book's hero is a hockey player. But I digress. 

      Every athlete has a story, and every story should be told. 

      I admire the time and dedication they put into their sport. Their compassion so palpable. And even though they are competitive until the end the sportsmanship displayed is heartwarming. 

      I like the Winter Olympics better because I can relate to them more. I used to love skiing (cross country.) My brothers and I would sled constantly, pretending we were bobsledding. Don't even get me started on hockey. I could go on for days. :) And I love watching figure skating, ski jumping, and snowboarding. 
      The training these guys and gals have to endure must be so intense. Then I wonder how many falls they have taken, how many times they've broken bones. I wonder what it feels like to ski at unreasonable speed with reckless abandon. Or what it would feel like to fly through the air knowing gravity is working its wonders and will bring you back down to earth fast and hard. What's it feel like to have a whole country rooting for you? What does it feel like to have a gold medal placed around your neck?

      I only know what it feels like to sit on my couch and root for these athletes. Each and every one is an inspiration. Each and every one had a goal and set out to accomplish it. Some will win, some won't. In my book though, they are all winners. 

      I was originally going to not watch these Olympics because of their opposition of gays. But then I realize that it is not the athletes that come up with this shit. Why punish them because of more bureaucratic crap? 

      Do you like the Winter or Summer games better? What is your favorite winter sport? Do you accomplish the goals you set for yourself? Do you reward yourself for hitting those goals?

Weekly Planting Information (W.P.I.)- The secret to fertilizing plants indoors is to apply small amounts of fertilizer as the plant grows. Without new growth, the plant has a limited need for more fertilizer. During the winter when light levels are low, a plant’s need for fertilizer reduces. During the summer when light levels increase and the plant is actively growing, its need for fertilizer increases. 

Monday, February 10, 2014

A Day at the Museum(s)

            I will say it is strange going from Podunk to city life. If you truly know me you wouldn’t think I’d like living in the city. I was born country and always have had space. Neighbors have been few and far between, not inches away. The Charmed One always believed that deep down I was a city girl at heart. To be fair, if it was a big city I’m not sure I could do it.
            Since Savannah is not a big place I’ve gotten along nicely so far. I never would’ve thought I’d like taking the dogs out for walks, but I do. It gets my blood flowing. And I get to see wonderful sights like this one…

            This morning after our walk the Charmed One says, “What do you want to do today?”
            Hmmm. Well, I did hear an advertisement on the radio that intrigued me. I did a little research and presented my idea to Charmed. We ate, showered, and headed out to Super Museum Sunday!

           I know many of you aren’t familiar with my new city so I’ll try to give you little bits and pieces here and there. Savannah is a city that is filled with history. Founded in 1733 there are many houses, inns, and businesses that are filled with back stories. Some of that history has been preserved, and places here and there have been made into museums that have been in operation for many, many years.

          So for Super Museum Sunday participating museums open their doors from 12-4 and give tours for free. These are condensed from the normal tours, giving people a taste of what that museum has to offer. I picked out two for us to go to. We ended up hitting five. J And we had a wonderful time.

            Yeah, it wasn’t like the movie A Night At The Museum. The only thing that came to life was your imagination with the way people lived their lives a hundred or more years ago. It was wonderful. We started off at the Andrew Low House. Mr. Low was a cotton guru back in the day. There was at least one piece of original furnishings in each room, which is amazing. We then hit the Flannery O’Connor house. Flannery was a writer. She wrote many short stories and was a three-time winner of the O. Henry Award and winner of the National Book Award for Fiction. She lived only 39 short years. The next was an accident that we stumbled upon, and a real treasure. The Owens-Thompson House was a true gem, with a cute garden, and carriage house that taught of the slaves that were kept there at one time. The architecture in that home was brilliant. Next we hit the Telfair Academy, which was a home transformed into an art museum. We rounded out our museum tour with a visit to the Jepson Center which had more modern exhibit styles of art, for adults and kids.
Telfair Academy

            All in all it was a day that carried beauty all the way around.
           I learned so much about some of the more visited places in the city. Now when we get visitors I have a better idea where to take them! I think the last time I visited a museum was years ago, for a school field trip.
            Next weekend is the Irish Festival! Did I tell you I’m really liking this city life? J

Do you live in the country or city? When is the last time you visited a museum? Have you heard of Flannery O’Connor?

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Looking Pretty

      Hello, everyone! I hope this finds you all in good spirits. Really, I do. :)  And did I tell you that you look pretty today? You do, so pat yourself on the back for a job well done. 

      What's that? You think I'm buttering you up for some reason? Nah. Why would I do that? Well... there is this one tiny matter. You see I'm working ten hour days, and trying to keep up with a one week class. So I'm extremely busy. That is why this rant will be extremely short. All I can say is I'm sorry. While working hard hours I'm also trying to improve my writing by learning how to craft an opening chapter or prelude to my book. My muscles are fatigued from the job and my mind is on overdrive from the class. Maybe the following pics, some of my latest on Instagram, will make you forgive me a little? 

      Let's start out with this one, taken today (Wednesday.) Isn't this one of the cutest flower faces you've ever seen?

       Okay, if that didn't do it for you maybe this one will. I took this the other night. 

      The fog was so thick in the above picture that you couldn't see the crosses at the top of the steeples. 

      This next pic there is no fog. Or flowers. Just beauty. 

      I took all of the above pics from my cell phone. And all can be found on my Instagram page. 

      Care to join me? Do you forgive me a little? 

      How many hours a day do you work at your job? Do you like your job, or just work it to make ends meet? Are you on Instagram? How do you take most of your pictures?

W.P.I.- The tree in the last picture is a Live Oak. They are found all throughout Savannah, many draped in Spanish moss. They can live for centuries, (one down the block is over 300 years old!) and are evergreen. They can grow to be very tall and wide. I love their crazy twisting branches! They provide great shade. If trees could talk I'd love to hear the stories they'd tell!

Monday, February 3, 2014

Death of a Car Salesman

            I’m going to talk about something I can’t stand. I detest it, as a matter of fact. I would use the H word, but I H the H word. J Cornfused?

            I sold my vehicle, Alexis. (If you read the last rant you know we name our vehicles.) It was named that because I said my next vehicle would be a Lexus, get it? Haha. My intentions when I moved were to work within walking distance, but that hasn’t happened. So my search for the next vehicle has started.

            And I H it.

            I H everything having to do with it.

            Normally I am a jovial person. I try to smile a lot. I try to be pleasant. I try to see the happy in people. If I don’t see it sometimes I even try to bring it out.

            That all changes the minute I step onto a car lot.

            Nice Kelly disappears into the abyss. Don’t Rub Me The Wrong Way Kelly appears, and there is nothing anybody can do about it. After our last car excursion Charmed One told me I wasn’t allowed onto another car lot and that suited me just fine. But Charmed is gone for a few days. And I found a car I like at a dealer not too far from here. So Kelly put on her big girl pants and went to the dealership alone. Grr.

            Let me just say this…

            I would rather have all my teeth pulled with no Novocain.

            I would rather have a Brazilian wax.

            I would rather have a nail driven through my finger.

            I would rather have a lot of horrible things done to me than to ever deal with a car salesman. (No offense if any of you are!) Its just I hate being pushed. And as soon as that salesman pushes- Kelly does pushing of her own. She pushes her chair back and leaves. You see there is no car made that is worth me losing my cool.

            I came this close to losing it at that dealership. And after I left I got even madder. (Could be the Irish in me?) Charmed comes home later in the week. Maybe then…

            What is something that you cannot stand to do? What torture would you endure to not do that thing? What do you drive? Want to sell it? J