Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Writer Prompt Wednesday ~ May 4, 2016

Welcome back to my almost-weekly feature, just for fun.

On Wednesdays I am going to post a random picture I find online 
(and yes, I will make sure not to violate any copyrights)
and I will ask everyone to contribute to a "story" by adding a 
sentence in the comments.

Be sure to read the comments before yours so that we actually 
write a continuous story inspired by the picture.

Got the plan?   Good.
Here's this week's picture:




I'll start:

I would say it was a dark and stormy night, but it was
clear, so clear that I could see the danger in front of me.

Ok, now it's your turn —
add your sentence below


...and be sure to come back next week!

Monday, May 2, 2016

Being the Oldest Generation ~ #MondayBlogs


Both of my parents were gone by the time I was 25 and both of my in-laws by the time I was 27. All four were present at our wedding 40 years ago. Hubby and I miss them all but we were lucky to have very rewarding, rich and close friendships with each. I do feel bad for my children who never knew their grandparents (although our daughter was 14-months old when her paternal grandmother passed). A lot of time has been spent while we tell our offspring stories about their grandparents so that they should “know” them a bit.

Uncles and Aunts have also passed early-ish, on both sides, leaving us, our siblings and our cousins among the elders in the family. It’s a mind-blowing thought to know you are a part of the oldest generation in your family. There is an implied responsibility to carry the traditions forward, tell everyone stories so that none of your elders ever die a “second death” (EVERYONE suffers a physical death at some point, it is when you are no longer remembered that you die a second time), and to try to be the older, wiser sage without actually acting or feeling OLD.

I am finally old enough to officially apply and collect a (reduced) Social Security check, although I have no plans to file for quite a while — but I find this to be a form of accomplishment as hubby and I have both outlived all of our parents, none of whom were ever old enough, so I actually like to brag about my age. BUUUUT for some reason I remember my parents as being quite a bit OLDER than I feel and somehow I imagine our kids think of us as being just as old.

When I read stories about X-number of generations in one photograph, I admit feeling a tinge of envy. And when I hear about the elderly sitting by themselves waiting endlessly for at least a phone call from their children, I get a bit angry. If you are blessed to still have your parents (and/or grandparents) around, think of how lucky you really are. It would have been nice to have my mom, or my mother-in-law, around for some parenting advice as my kids “tested me”. It would have been great to see my children bounced on their grandfathers’ knees.

As I’ve gotten older my children don’t need me IN THE SAME WAY THEY DID when they were very young. They are self-sufficient and capable young adults. It’s nice to be around to watch them make lives and contribute to this world, and if I am lucky I will get more time to be here with them. I hope that I will never become the kind of parent that they will get annoyed with. If they come out on the other end thinking of me with half as much love and fondness as I had for my parents, then I certainly will be pretty lucky to know that kind of love.

But don’t cry for me, I’m not. You see one of the things my parents taught me was to make every day count, to always say I love you and never to miss an opportunity to be together. And we did. We lived a lot in the 23 and 25 years I had them on this physical earth. I still believe that they hear me, and sometimes find a way to answer me (simply because of how close we always were), when I need to “chat”. Don’t wait for tomorrow, today is here.

Tomorrow is not promised and
the past cannot be changed
 therefore live each day to the fullest and
know that every new day is a blessing.

Nishan Panwar




Saturday, April 30, 2016

Another Dream & a Chance to Do Something to Help - Weekend Writing Warriors / 8sunday / 05/01/16

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday round. Every week writers post 8-to-10 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the
WeWriWa blog

& check out the
Facebook Snippet Sunday group


A long, long time ago I shared a few snippets from my Paranormal Romantic Suspense, Karma Visited (only 5) - and we didn't get a full taste of this story. Since I am working on a sequel and revisiting the story for myself, I'm sharing more with you and soaking up your comments.

Do you believe in karma? Annie Furman has a gift that allows her, while she sleeps, to visit people in their time of need - but who will be there for her when she needs help? Undersheriff Dave Turner is investigating a series of home invasions and homicides. He has no idea that solving this case will lead him to the woman of his dreams.

Two weeks ago (sorry I missed last week) Annie overheard her husband plotting "something" in the town, but she doesn't know the specifics yet. That night while sleeping she has another dream of a disaster, this time there are children to be saved. Frantically she wakes and tries to piece together clues in order to help.

Creative editing alert!  Here are ten lines... 


She stared at the ceiling and tried to remember everything she had seen. The license plate on the crashed car was the same color as hers, and it was nighttime… there was a number by the highway.

She closed her eyes and focused on the memory as hard as she could. When Annie was sure she had enough information, she got out of bed and left the room to use the computer.

It worked, Annie was elated, it was the first time Annie had been able to do something to help.


After she made the phone call she forced herself back into her dream and watched while the first responders removed the parents’ bodies from the car. They had to in order to reach the children in the back. The toddler was still unconscious. The baby reached towards her again, but no one else could see her standing there.
   ~~~~~
For more WeWriWa Snippets, go to: 


My life changed after I died.
It’s not like I had any special powers.
They just didn’t understand me.
They underestimated me.
I had a gift.

Buy Links


~~~~~


It's Passover!

Yes, I missed last week, mea culpa, but I didn't get things posted early enough before I had to go offline. This week I will be back to read and all by Sunday.
But the holiday (which will have just ended by the time this snippet posts) has been absolutely wonderful - I wrote about it this past Monday on this blog
(go see Moments of Memories ~ #MondayBlogs)
One thing that always strikes me odd is that the first few days of the holiday are always so frantic and with two Seders there seems to be so much to the holiday. And then, once the Seders are over, the rest of this 8-day holiday just flies by. Even with holiday cooking, it goes so quickly.
Passover has always been my favorite holiday, I love the total transformation of my kitchen (special dishes, cookware, flatware and more that are used only this one week each year). /when I was just a child growing up I never knew exactly how much work it took since my mom and dad took care of most of it - now it falls on my shoulders (hubby and kids do help), but it is totally worth it.


What is YOUR favorite holiday and what makes that one so unique?

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Writer Prompt Wednesday ~ April 27, 2016

Welcome back to my almost-weekly feature, just for fun.

On Wednesdays I am going to post a random picture I find online 
(and yes, I will make sure not to violate any copyrights)
and I will ask everyone to contribute to a "story" by adding a 
sentence in the comments.

Be sure to read the comments before yours so that we actually 
write a continuous story inspired by the picture.

Got the plan?   Good.
Here's this week's picture:



I'll start:

I knew that I would find peace at the end of my journey,
but it seemed so very far away and I was so very, very tired.

Ok, now it's your turn —
add your sentence below

...and be sure to come back next week!

Monday, April 25, 2016

Moments of Memories ~ #Monday Blogs


You’re standing at the stove and preparing a holiday dinner, suddenly all you can see in front of you is an image of your mom in front of her kitchen stove preparing the dinner for the same holiday many years earlier. Memories of a childhood long ago spring to the forefront unexpectedly, welcomed by your heart and met with a tear on your cheek.

It’s Passover in our home and I prepare the Seder for a family gathering each year. Our table is filled with our children and their spouses, close friends and assorted siblings (varying each year depending on individual schedules). Good and plentiful food, so many traditional recipes… we take turns retelling the story of the Exodus when the Hebrews fled Egypt. Four questions asked and answered, the bitter herbs remind us of tears, the sweet charoses to remind us of the mortar used to build the pyramids, and Shmura Matzoh to remind us of the haste that our ancestors left Pharoah’s land.

The plates on my Passover table were my mother-in-law’s, the Seder plate was my mom’s, the Haggada story belong to all the generations. L’dor v’dor, from generation to generation, we are commanded to retell the story as if we were living it ourselves. There’s laughter as we “personalize” the tale.

Inevitably we each bring our memories to the table, some different and some shared. The older generation laughs about the Seders we shared with our parents. The younger generation remembers a few years before when they dressed up to re-enact the Passover story. And every delicious bite of our festive meal is spiced with the sweetness of happy times.

One day our children will share their memories with their families, a few tears will stain their cheeks, laughter will surround their table, and the sweet memories will once again be welcomed as new ones are made for future generations.

Monday, April 18, 2016

People Hear What They Want to Hear ~ #MondayBlogs



Why is it that two people can listen to the exact same thing and yet hear totally different things?

Don’t worry about answering, it’s a rhetorical question.

People tend to read into difficult words rather than merely taking them at face value. “That dress really looks nice on you. It’s got a very slimming effect.” — Oh no! Does that mean I look fat? — Instead of accepting what is probably a very genuine compliment, suddenly there are tears, hurt feelings and probably anger. And that is how arguments start.

Everybody hears what they are open to hearing based on their experiences and beliefs. Politicians get to say a lot of sometimes “nothing” and yet every speech will be met with cheers and jeers based on what the listeners WANT to believe. I WANT to believe that all my financial woes can be solved by a single act of a new shopping complex and the revenue it would bring to the area; I DON’T WANT to believe that giving up my brand new shiny car will help solve global warming. The politician says the new factory which will open up jobs will be the best thing and scrubbers will be installed in every smokestack — if I need a job, I’ll hear the opportunity of a new business; but if my child is an asthmatic the words that will be loudest to me will be “scrubbers in every smokestack” and depending on my level of trust…

We tend to listen selfishly with our own interests out front. We are afraid to accept, or hear, anything that might make us question the beliefs we’ve been loudly professing. We’ll attend a campaign speech to “listen” to the words of our favorite candidate and we are rarely disappointed. We focus on the things we want to hear and all the rest is just background noise. Almost everybody in the crowd does the same thing and it’s easy to get swept up with the emotional response, cheering and clapping. When the speech is over we turn and clap each other on the backs for a job-well-done as if we were the ones receiving all of the approving applause. Later when we are asked what was said, suddenly all we can remember are the good points that we agreed with, and we might not even remember the exact words, we just repeat the very things that drew us, right or wrong, to this candidate.

It’s frustrating when we are trying to get our message and meaning out there and someone is just not listening to the words. Chances are, though, we might be doing just the same thing. Selective hearing? Biased hearing? It’s a collective problem.

Psychologists tell us that we need to train ourselves to not only listen, but to listen from the other person’s point of view. If you can argue FOR an opposing view you wind up expanding your mind. And maybe it won’t make you change your mind but it will certainly allow you stronger belief in what YOU want to hear.



Saturday, April 16, 2016

A Little Reconnaissance ~ Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 04/17/16



Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday round. Every week writers post 8-to-10 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the
WeWriWa blog

& check out the
Facebook Snippet Sunday group


A long, long time ago I shared a few snippets from my Paranormal Romantic Suspense, Karma Visited (only 5) - and we didn't get a full taste of this story. Since I am working on a sequel and revisiting the story for myself, I'm sharing more with you and soaking up your comments.

Do you believe in karma? Annie Furman has a gift that allows her, while she sleeps, to visit people in their time of need - but who will be there for her when she needs help? Undersheriff Dave Turner is investigating a series of home invasions and homicides. He has no idea that solving this case will lead him to the woman of his dreams.

Annie is going though the motions of being a "dutiful wife" even though it doesn't earn her any "Brownie points" from her bullying husband and overbearing mother-in-law. I skipped ahead several pages — in this scene Scott has brought home an unexpected dinner guest and expected Annie to be a good hostess. After dinner Scott takes his friend (Bill) into his office for a private conversation. Annie's mother-in-law is distracted by a phone call from a friend. Annie is in the kitchen making coffee...

Creative editing alert!  Here are ten lines... 


She needed something to use against Scott as insurance, she had to know what they were talking about. Annie scraped the scraps into the trash, took the filled plastic bag from the wastebasket and opened the kitchen door quietly.
She was quiet as she dumped the bag into the outside garbage can and then continued walking towards Scott’s office window. She was thrilled to see that it was open a crack. 
“…now we can go ahead with the project,” Scott was talking, “with the money the pipeline is going to bring us, we’ll cash in.”
“I’m going to make sure nobody else stands in our way. This may be a small town now, but it's going to be big once that mall opens and we’re going to own a big piece of it.”
Annie heard the clink of glasses.
“We’re on our way brother.” 
   ~~~~~
For more WeWriWa Snippets, go to: 


My life changed after I died.
It’s not like I had any special powers.
They just didn’t understand me.
They underestimated me.
I had a gift.

Buy Links


~~~~~

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