Who says I let the cat out of the bag?

Inspiration, Part 1: Writing Practice

Some of my earliest writing was inspired by my Grandma Lil. My Mom recently gave me a handmade (circa 1978) book I'd written about a baby and my grandparents from Grandma's things. The cover was made with a piece of pink construction paper folded unevenly in half. Sadly, I've never developed any more drawing skill than the stick figures on those yellowed pages. I have, however, improved my writing since the first grade. I have far to go, but I will never want to stop learning the craft.

I got lots of writing practice in correspondence with Grandma. She used to write the best letters! I loved to race inside from the mailbox with an envelope addressed to me in her meticulous handwriting. Reading the details of her days, I could picture her there in her big house, watching the turkeys and deer out the picture windows. She'd tell me how many eggs she'd gotten that day and if they'd heard another bobcat in the distance. Since she lived three hours away, I didn't get to talk with her in person nearly enough, but she made up for it by keeping in touch.

In turn, I'd write her about my days. I always started like this:

Dear Grandma,

How are you?

One time she mentioned that it was funny I started that way. I think it was about third grade or so. It made a lasting impression on me, because from then on I tried to think of more imaginative ways of starting all my letters. I guess you could say she was my first writing critiquer! She also used to chide me about my penmanship, but that hasn't improved much, either. (Thank God for computers!)

When we did get together, we'd play Scrabble, her favorite game. I don't think I ever beat her, but she taught me some of the weird words, like qoa. It expanded my vocabulary.

In the end, she couldn't write anymore. She'd never owned a computer or sent an email and I think she was proud of that fact! It was hard to see her deteriorating in mental and physical capacity. I don't know when the letters stopped; they just gradually tapered off.

She could read, though. I remember her being excited for me while writing my first novel. She told me I had to send her a free copy :-) I was about 25. (Still working on that first book contract, Grandma!)

Later on, I actually had some work published, but when I presented it to her, she curtly told me she didn't read anymore. That came as a slap because 1) it wasn't true--she read the newspaper every day. 2) She was the one who encouraged my dream of writing.

I knew it was because of her diminished mental state, a result of the strokes that took away most of her short term memory and affected her moods. The only thing to do was to remember who she was before she got sick and let the comment roll off my back.

That is why, years after her passing, I treasure my first book. I've tossed quite a few of my projects over the years, but the worn and yellowed pages she kept for almost three decades--a symbol of her support--will forever be part of my writing library. Thanks, Grandma Lil!

This is the first in a series of posts on people who've encouraged me in my writing. Whatever I achieve, it will be to God's glory first, then to those angels He sent to spur me along.

Where have I been?

As you, my readers, have already guessed...I have been doing something other than blogging. Whew! Is all I can say. It's been a heckuva ride. I'll blog all about it--another day. For now, if you'd like, you can read something else I wrote here.

Cat in a Bag

So funny!

I'm choosing not to participate in the recession!

And you can, too...

Guess what? Dave Ramsey's got a free event called Town Hall for Hope. You can attend via webcast at a location near you. More and more venues are signing up all the time, but you can click here for one in your area.

Mark of a Good Friend

Winter Jam 09

This weekend Doug and I took the kids on one of our surprise outings. All the way to downtown Nashville they kept saying, "Just tell us where we're going."

When we didn't answer they said, "I hate when they do this."

When we finally parked in the parkade, they said, "Oh, I betcha we're going out to eat."

Still, Doug and I didn't say anything as we walked to the Sommet Center.

The doors weren't open yet, but the crowd was pumped and lined up to the street. Mariah finally goes, "Is this a concert or something?"

"Yep." Doug's barely suppressing a grin by now.

Naturally, they want to know who's playing.

In his nonchalant voice, Doug says, "Oh, just Pure NRG, Toby Mac, and lots of others."

"Really?" They both shout. They let out whoops of joy. By now people are starting to stare. (And the girls are afraid I'll embarrass them in public--Sheesh!)

We bought them the rare junk-food dinner and found our seats just in time for the show to begin.

The concert was loud for the parents:




















And a time to get a little crazy for the kids:



















Except the kids who are too cool to get a little crazy:

Happy Braces Girl

Here is the long overdue picture of Katie with her new braces. This was taken the day she got them on. It hasn't all been smiles and giggles, but she's doing a great job taking care of her teeth. It'll be two long years with them!

Back in touch?

Guess who's getting braces?

Yep! My little Indian...

I can hardly believe she's twelve now. She's so excited! (And Doug says he should have been an orthodontist--that's where the big bucks are earned--lol)

I'll post a before and after picture when she gets them.

Ode to My Aunt Rubye

Okay, it's not really classical poetry. But I'm not a classical poet. It's January, I'm bogged down with work and have very little creativity left in my brain at the end of the day. But she wants a new post, so what can you do? (Remember I don't claim to be a poet!)

So...here goes:


Assiduous. That's a fancy word for hardworking.
Unwavering. She is one of the strongest women I know. Most others would have broken by now.
Naughty. In a really fun way! I got her as a babysitter when I was a child and she likes to break the rules a little.
Toot doot! Not that she would admit it, but still...I think her sisters and my cousins would agree with me.

Relishes time with her grandchildren--just like her mother.
Understands what it means to sacrifice for her kids and grandkids.
Bighearted. She's always doing stuff and helping people. She's got a tender heart for her family.
Yellow daffodils make her smile. One of the many flowers in her beautiful garden. She's definitely got the gift of a green thumb.
Entertaining. She loves to engage in silliness that results in pee-your-pants laughing. Once she used three of my naked, shabby old plastic dolls as puppets in her own rendition of "We are Family." If you're not old enough to remember that song, be thankful.

Note from the Library Guild: No actual thesauruses were harmed in the writing of this post.