Biting My Nails

I know her... even met her in person, but it's hard not to be in awe of someone who has achieved the status in life that you seek. A few years back, I had the privilege of meeting Harlequin Author, Cheryl St. John, at a Romantic Times Conference. It was my first venture into the world of authors, having just become a new one myself. Of course, I was internet published, which some people still view with a critical eye, but Cheryl made me feel welcome, equal and I loved her bubbly personality. Meeting her was a highpoint of the conference.

She sent me an email the other day and said she enjoyed my Embezzled Love video trailer and hoped to read the book. I kiddingly offered to send her a pre-edited word copy and she accepted. If she likes it, she's going to write something for inclusion at the beginning of the printed copy. I'm so excited, yet nervous to have such an accomplished person (over 30 books out)read my work. I don't think I was this nervous when I sent my debut novel to Romantic Times for review. I got a four-star one from them so I'm hoping Cheryl enjoys what she reads. This one isn't a run-of-the-mill romance. It's a fictional story based on what really happened to my sister, and it was difficult to write because I saw her live the nightmare. I'm very fortunate that Lachesis Publishing believes in letting someone write outside the box.

I urge you to check out Cheryl's blog. The link is under my favorites here. Right now she's doing the Great Christmas Tree Tour of 2007 and you'll get a good laugh when you see my bargain basement attempt at the Christmas spirit among all the gorgeous ones posted. Hey...what can I say, I live in one room and there isn't much space. My ornaments have disappeared over the years and the ones I have left are broken. My poor little reindeer are all missing one or both of their antlers, and mice in the attic gnawed through my stocking. But...my tree still looks slightly better than Charlie Brown's. :)

Now I'm going back to work on my next video trailer. I'll post it when I'm done. It's another exciting release by author, Phyllis Campbell. Stay tuned.

CRABBY OLD MAN - Sharing a Poem

I was really touched by this poem and felt the need to share it. I've been thinking a lot about my own age recently, and having a hard time believing that I just turned 62. In my mind, I'm not anywhere close but my body is saying otherwise. This reminded me so much of my grandfather who passed years ago from Alzheimer's...alone, in a rest home. We only pray that he realized that we loved him, visited, and mourned his passing. I'm going to try hard to see the person behind the mask that nature slaps on us. :)

The Crabby Old Man

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Tampa,
Florida, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They
found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that
copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.

One nurse took her copy to Missouri. The old man's sole bequest to
posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine
of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has
also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

Crabby Old Man

What do you see nurses? ....What do you see?
What are you thinking......when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man,.....not very wise,
Uncertain of habit ........with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food.......and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice ....."I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice ....the things that you do.
And forever is losing .............. A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not...........lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding ..... The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?.......Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse......you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am .......... As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,.......as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten.......with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters ........who love one another

A young boy of Sixteen ....with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now..........a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty ........my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows........that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now .......... I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide ....And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty .......... My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other ....... With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons ...have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me.......to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, ......... Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children ....... My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me ...... My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ............I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing......young of their own.
And I think of the years...... And the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man........and nature is cruel.
'Tis jest to make old age ........look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles..........grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone........where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass ..... A young guy still dwells,
And now and again .......my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys.............. I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living.............life over again.

I think of the years ..all too few......gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact........that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .........open and see..
Not a crabby old man.....Look closer....see........ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush
aside without looking at the young soul within.....we will all, one day,
be there, too!

The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched.
They must be felt by the heart.

Is It Just Me?

Is it just me or do some of you wonder about weird things. For example, those of you who watch soap operas... On All My Children, Zach and Greenlee are trapped in an old bomb shelter. They were walking in the forest and fell through the roof. They've been there for days. There was mention that it was stocked with plenty of food, water, a flashlight (yeah, batteries don't corrode after thirty years), and a first-aid kit. Of course the bandaids were a lifesaver since Zach had just been hit by a car and was suffering major injuries. *lol*

For those of you who don't know the characters, Zach and Greenlee hate each other. She, a five-foot tall, petite-framed woman, was supporting this six-foot, hulking guy through a wooded area, to leave him on the doorstep of a cabin she saw in the distance. That's when they suffered the fall, and she hurt her leg. Of course, her limp has mysteriously disappeared. It's your typical run-of-the-mill drama, he's delerious, kisses her because he believes her to be his wife, recovers, throws hateful barbs at her, she pouts, sews up the gash on his forehead... but they never go to the bathroom!!!

Okay. So they're stuck in a 9 x 12 room, shelves on the walls, old mattresses on the floor, but neither one of them has had to pee or poop. These are the stupid things I wonder about. Do you?

I guess the writers COULDN'T very well add this dialogue:

Greenlee: "Boy, I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't pee."

Zach: *scanning the room*. "Just go squat behind that stack of crates of there. I won't look. I promise."

Greenlee: *reluctant look on her face, but urgency showing as well. She walks across the room, unbuttoning her pants.* "Remember, you promised. Stay where you are." *She sinks behind the wooden veil.*

*You hear the sound of water splatting against the ground. It seems to go on forever*

Zach: "Boy, you weren't kidding. You did need to go.*

Greenlee: "Zach!"

*A few minutes later, Greenlee rises behind the boxes. "Boy, do I feel better." *She walks back to the mattress and sits.

*Zach sniffs the air, wrinkles his nose and curls in lips in distaste.* "What's that smell?"

*Greenlee lowers her head.* "I had to poop, too."

Zach: "Great! We already have no air and now I have to contend with that stench."

ROFL...Okay, I guess that would be really crass, but don't you just find yourself wondering about bodily functions at times. These days I can't finish my visit at Walmart without using the bathroom, so I know I couldn't spend days in a bomb shelter without facilities. I just thought I'd share my weirdness with you and see if I'm alone. :)

You're Invited

December 7th from 8:00 CST until we wear ourselves out, Eternal Press is hosting their launch of the December releases. Come read excerpts, meet and chat with the authors and perhaps even win a prize or two.

Here's the link:
Eternal Press Reader's Loop

Hope to see you there.

Ging

You've Been Elfed

Life is all about BUTTS
you're either covering it,
laughing it off,
kicking it,
kissing it,
busting it,
or behaving like one .....
Pass this on to as many people as possible, but you can't send it back to the person who sent it to you. This person was Elfed by someone else.