Agreements and Baseball.

No, I’m not talking about those highly inflated contracts in MLB. I’m talking about applying Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements to the game of baseball, down to the lowest level of T-Ball. It’s tournament time in our select baseball world and the team had a pulverizing loss yesterday. Three innings. The opposing team was exceptionally good for being in the 9U (Nine & up) category. Many were star players on their own. They stole every base they could, running up the score. Nothing makes a first year playing together team lose their will to live than running up the score on them when they’re struggling.

The only talk there was among them was how good the other team was. They were good, and mentally, our boys were defeated before the first pitch went out. I just want to share this as the coaches do every game, but with different words.

Tell yourself the truth about you. You are a good player and not doing anything wrong. Sometimes, others teams will beat us. You are not at fault. They’re just better. Let’s work harder so we’re better.

Don’t Take Anything Personally. It’s not your fault. All of us make mistakes. That’s how we learn. Let’s work to learn more.

Don’t Make Assumptions. Just because they’re a top ranked team doesn’t mean we’re going to lose. We need to work together and be our best today.

Always Do Your Best. Put your game face on every game. Keep your heads up. Be confident. Don’t give up until the game’s over. There’s always a chance if you all do your best. Keep your heads and shoulder up. That’s a winner’s posture.

Play Ball!

All of this takes practice, both for body and mind. It’s nothing that happens overnight. And it’s not for just 9U Select Baseball teams. It’s for all of us. For life. Share as you see fit.

How I wish I could have been stronger willed as a kid. The bullies would not have stood a chance. During my entire 7th grade, no one would speak to me. A nun confronted me about the older girls in choir. She wasn’t there one day and the 8th graders (I was in 6th) were talking. Monsignor Aughney told her about it, she picked me to ask if they were talking.

At that time in my life, I would have confessed to kidnapping the Lindbergh baby when confronted by an adult in power. I wasn’t going to lie to a nun, not with the threat of sin held over my head. I violated the kid code, I ratted them out. When we returned to school, there was a lot of giggling at me, making fun of me. One day, I remember specifically, a boy who later became friends with me in high school, walked after me while barking like a dog. Let’s just say, it was not a compliment.

My face burned. The tears blurred my eyes. I kept walking. He finally quit. I kept walking, all the way home. No wonder I used to stop at the cookie jar upon arriving at home. Sugar was the thing that made me feel better. Well, sugar and listening to music. I’d hide in my room, playing music, (not while doing homework), eat Mom’s Toll House Cookies like my life depended on it, and feel better. 7th grade was pure torture. But I lived. Deeply wounded, but I lived.

Magically, I kept being myself. When 8th grade came around, the classmates all forgot about the narc among them. They all told me, “You’ve changed.” No, I hadn’t. They had. My self talk wasn’t good back then. Fat, ugly, dumb, can’t draw, you name it, I hated it about myself. Teach your kids to be kind and gentle to themselves.

This doesn’t mean sinful pride and boasting. Be yourself. Keep it in you. It works better. You get it. We’ve a few things to do before the noon and the 2 p.m. game. Hydrating is one of them! You do the same if you’re in Nebraska, it’s sweltering already. But there’s nowhere I’d rather be than watching kids play baseball. I love them all! Have a great day, and see you tomorrow! GO STORM CHASERS!

Understanding Life, Backwards?

So here’s the deal.

“We can only understand life by looking backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”

Soren Kierkegaard

Wait. Isn’t that an apparent contradiction?

No, it’s the truth. By examining our family history, we learn more about ourselves, not them. It isn’t genealogy. We may know our family tree backwards and forwards. That isn’t what we need to learn. Where we came from is important, and it’s quite a hobby now days.

To understand ourselves and our choices in life, we must examine our past to find out why we do what we do. Why we are who we are. And especially where our feelings come from. It’s a lot of hard work. Many of us don’t want to do it. If you’re like me, and feel as if you didn’t fit, you were different, and still don’t understand some things we feel and why we’re where we are. It’s very hard. You may not like the answers. But you have to ask the questions.

The key to all of this investigation is to do it with compassion, understanding, and forgiveness. We owe that to our parents, grandparents, and our children. My dad’s family was different, so was mom’s. And you take two people who don’t know each other’s inner lives, they marry, have a family, and then you learn about each other.

The kids inherit things from generations back. Things like never talking about feelings, keeping secrets, and being so stoic you hold back even love, out of fear, fear of others falling short again, not loving you as you need to be loved. Toss in a man’s PTSD from serving in two wars, and a woman’s dysfunction from being an adult child of two alcoholics, and you really have an interesting concoction, to say the least. They did the best they could.

I am stating facts here, not being judgmental, whiny, or looking for pity. (Pity is the last thing I want). By examining your past, you come to understand yourself better. Sometimes, you realize a parent is toxic. Other times you learn how to still deal with a family member who uses you. You learn to set boundaries with your family, which can be an absolute necessity with some family members. If you can’t imagine this kind of situation, I’m so happy for you. It’s the reality of many, many people all over the world. I’m glad you’re not one of them.

For those of you who do understand, I’m sorry you went through this. And, I encourage you to learn how to overcome this bad treatment. It is hard, but so worth it. If you are care giving to the person who belittled you, you are a wonderful human. You have forgiven them enough to offer them the help they need. You need to have boundaries as to how they treat you now. It’s necessary.

Having a person who understands the situation helps you get through this. Talk with them. Let them help you realize your loved one cannot help how they are until they want to change. Yes, it’s obvious they need to. But they won’t simply because we point out their shortcomings and abuse. It’s always our fault.

I promised my dad, as did two of my three brothers, that we would watch out for Mom. Mom was 59 when he died at 64. I was 37 at the time. My heart hasn’t recovered from that. He was my champion, my biggest fan. No, I was not a spoiled brat of a child. I’m glad. It all helped make me a strong woman to weather all the storms of life, keep my shoulders squared, my head up, and walk through fire. No one ever knew I felt like unset Jello, wobbling all over the place inside. They couldn’t see that. I’m grateful to God, every second of my life, and how we arrived here.

All of this said, I love my family. I love Dad for being the man he was, son of a father who was in an orphanage for many years, an Irish woman who had a mean father but a heart of gold; I love Mom for the years when she would put such love into Christmas and Thanksgiving, help me with my kids as a single Mom, the daughter of two people who were raging alcoholics in their younger years but were loving grandparents; I love the memory of a brother who is estranged from all of us by his choice; I love the brother who checks on Mom many times a day, who has a sense of humor that was built on Loony Tune Cartoons; I love the brother who is constantly conquering his addictions, he has grown up into the man Dad always said he would be.

It’s a risk, sharing all of this. You don’t end up satisfied with life by forgetting the past. You only end up grateful and happy by working through things. Avoidance always gets in the way. Guaranteed.

Find your way through the past and focus on what’s in your present and future. It’s the only things we truly can have control over, by our attitudes, intentions, strength, and knowledge. Finding out what’s important to you, who you are, and who you want to be. Work hard. You won’t be sorry, trust me.

Have a beautiful day today. It’s new and exciting and yours, not theirs. You’ve come this far. Keep going. See you tomorrow! I’ll tell you all about the outdoor musical we’re going to tonight, “Don’t Stop Me Now,” another production from Rave On Productions. Praying the rain passes by us.

Thursday Things

It has been another busy but slow day. Had another dentist appointment. It was just too hard to get going after that. Unsure why. Then I realized. I saw an article discussing the feelings adults have when too many emotional things (all bad) happen – our bodies make us feel tired. We feel like we have to retreat. It’s a safeguard for our mental health.

Some folks would declare that as bunk; I do not. I told the Babe while we were at lunch, I just wanted to go home and cuddle with the dog, hiding under the covers, and stay there. No particular reason; (except it’s the 907th day in a row with clouds, rain, chills; spring in Nebraska). After seeing that article, I believe the mental health safeguard is true. Yes, it’s far from us, but we are involved. And we should be glad it affects us and distracts us. It means our hearts are still working as they should be; it means we care deeply about humanity. I’m glad to know that. Sometimes I am concerned I have become so used to terrible things happening I’ve become jaded or calloused. Happy to report, I’m not.

Tomorrow, I’m sitting down with my illustrations and book, and inserting them. It will help me kick-start my momentum again. Hoping over the weekend I can open that new box of my sewing machine and set it up. Might have to reconfigure the glass-topped desk I use to double as a sewing table. That would force me to clean up the area after writing, sewing, working on my book, etc. It would keep things more orderly, like I used to. I fell into the bad habit of leaving the sewing machine open, with the project out, and things look very messy. Let’s see how it goes. Whatever it takes to get more done in less time.

Tomorrow, we will spend more time looking at the children’s book. I’ll see you tomorrow!

Finally Friday!

In the Midwest, whenever bad weather could develop, the trusty weather guys/gals clog the airways of local channels with many worst-case scenarios. Severe T-Storm warnings beep in every 2 minutes. It’s annoying. The frequency is unnecessary and most of us know to stay inside during a hailstorm, thunderstorm, tornado. We know better than to drive into a blizzard with 75 mph winds. If you just moved here, someone will clue you in.

I’m feeling stuck. Stuck in decluttering. Stuck in writing and life. Why? I’m finding a little tug when the thought of my birthday coming up. I’m feeling a little ancient, and a little not so much. It’s silly, really. All people go through it. I’m grateful to be reaching the age of 70 on the 22nd, and hope for a great birthday cake. I’m here for the cake!

I took Mom to the eye doctor for a six-month check again and she’s stable. I’m glad that’s the report for now. We need no more to deal with. She has PT coming in again and has a new lady coming in for help once a week. Hopefully, this will let her get Mom’s house clean and help her feel satisfied. After three years, the other lady didn’t work out. Those things happen sometimes.

I hope you have a great weekend, now that it’s here. The weather should be perfect and we’ll make the most of it for sure. Have a beautiful evening, and see you tomorrow!

Lesson Learned

I learned something very important today.

I’m on Day 2 of a major cleanup/organizing my studio/office. There will be a Day 3 with perhaps a Day 4. I knew it wouldn’t be One and done. I didn’t expect 3 days. Why? I have chronic back pain, and it is getting me back in spades. You’d think I’d learn.

I’m not supposed to lift anything over ten pounds. Have you seen the old printer I moved from the Babe’s office into mine? Have you seen the backpacks full of books about writing I need to sort and shelve? They will live on a corner shelf and a small library cart I need to put together. Not a problem. I need to sort through all the sewing projects collected on the sewing machine cabinet. Re-homing in the basement studio is in store for them. Some special projects will stay upstairs. All else will also go to the basement studio. That will also be reorganized, but that is for June, July, and August. Hopefully, the three tall book cases will be assembled by then.

Yes, I lifted over 10 pounds. Two days in a row. We also picked up groceries. They were heavy, too. I will probably do that until I absolutely cannot. That means I’ll have pain. I usually do. This is nothing new. I also know waiting for the Babe to get home and he is often too tired to do those things. We’re both aging. While logically, we know that, we still fight the idea. I’ve had restrictions for 25 years. Sometime I can test them; lately it’s not such a great idea.

We took care of a necessity on the way home. We stopped at Baskin Robbins and the Babe ad I each had iced cream. What a treat! That’s probably my last food for the day. It’s nearly 5 p.m. and we’re going to stay home and have a relaxing evening. Hope you do, too! And I hope there’s ice cream in your future. Take care. See you tomorrow!

The Day After

Yesterday was the Bombshell Patriots Conference for Nebraska. It was a very emotional day. Stories shared, we heard about lives of patriotism, valor, anxiety, depression. How these people fought their way out of the darkness are stories of victory, faith, hope, and a strength that builds spirit, character, and heart. Some, unfortunately, cannot find their way from the darkness. The depression takes over.

They may not reveal depression, hopelessness, and PTSD symptoms. Their careers could be over by admitting these things. They struggle. Many cannot do it alone. We lose many to suicide. It breaks my heart to know that. The ratio of killed in action to killed by suicide is reversing at a frightening speed. Fewer KIA’s last year. Four times as many killed by suicide. We cannot look the other way while this happens. We owe our servicemen and women better.

The sisterhood I entered yesterday was incredible. Women helping women. What a noble concept. Not having any sisters, I often am at a loss figuring out how to fit with groups of women. I don’t need to do that with BSP. They honor each other where each of them are. This is key. The encouragement is something I’ve not encountered a lot. It was refreshing and comfortable.

The downside? For a person with fibromyalgia and chronic pain, I have pain every day. After a while, I needed to overcome it mentally. Sure, it hurts, but I know it won’t kill me; I don’t like it, but dang it, I can’t give up everything. That said, conferences and classes must be carefully scheduled. Not too many hours, no carrying stuff and off loading alone. I need to ask for help. And I need a day or two after to do nothing. Recuperation takes strategy, patience, and lots of self-love. And of course, gratitude.

Why gratitude? It’s because twenty-seven years ago, I had a tumor in my spinal column that was growing, pressing the spinal cord. The bone crushing pain I experienced was the worst I ever had. It would have paralyzed me except the neuro doc saw an arachnoid cyst. He learned about it in school, but never saw one. Surgery took over eight hours. I’m grateful every day I can get up and walk. Sure it hurts. It could be so much worse. Sure, it could be so much better. That isn’t even a remote possibility. I have to choose positivity.

Do I have days I don’t want to move? Yes. I have days I don’t want to. I know I’m better up and living. Each day has hope for me. It’s a necessity. Creative endeavors are a must. Writing clears my whole soul. I get strength from it. I’m better at creating than anything else. Quilts, stories, and many needle arts projects will have my time.

As we have a quiet evening and consider what we need to do the next week, I hope you are also enjoying a quiet evening. The week will be another busy one. And I will think of the room full of women and a few men who spent time yesterday with the Bombshells. Long may they reach out. Female veterans need them. I support that. Bless all of them.

Take care this week. Be purposeful about your work and play. Be sure to play. Let’s see each other again tomorrow.

Progress

I have named my word for the year as Progress. I thought it would make a good foundation for planning the year. And since it’s only the third day of the New Year, we have been mindful of progress. I want to feel like there is progress each and every day.

There is a Chinese saying:

Talk doesn’t cook rice.

Progress is indeed something measurable. Some things, like reducing clutter, are easy to measure. Finishing the laundry (folding and putting it away counts for as progress). Planning without action is not progress. It doesn’t cook rice, either. If I vacuum every couple of days, I’ll have proof of my progress. If I look at the lower wood part of our coffee table and it’s shiny and free of dog hair, I’m making progress. When I look at our kitchen counter that seems to attract stray papers from the mail, and it’s clean, I’ll have made progress. It hasn’t happened yet, but it will.

Little bits at a time. I have to stay positive about it. Some days will work, some days will not, depending on interruptions, the Babe’s schedule, helping Mom. I may have to reschedule tasks; but I will get things done. I also need to go easy on myself. I have to remember habits take at least 21 days to make. I need to celebrate small steps and achievements. We all do.

Relief doesn’t happen immediately. Change doesn’t either. You have to be steadfast and unrelenting. How badly do you want it? How much to you want to finish your novel, your children’s books, your lyrics to a friend’s song, your remodeling projects, your refreshing your decor, your . . . (fill in the blank). How badly?

Stopping OD’ing on sugar is hard. I splurged a bit too much over the holidays. I freely admit it. Now I have to renew the hard work to eat properly. No big deal. Not blaming anyone. I can fix it. Progress can be mine in this area. It can be mine in writing, blogging, and making progress. Yes. It all depends on how much hard work you put in.

What’s the biggest waste of time? Probably video games/apps, etc. followed by Facebook. It’s a deep, complex route of deep, dark caves you can fall into. Often. I do it all the time. That time, spent writing, could be critical to achieving my goals in 2022. I have to be very aware of how I spend time. We all do. Let’s do it together.

Wow! I’m amazed. Mail call today was interesting. I received the natural gas bill, it wasn’t too bad, and I was amazed. Then, the good old State of Nebraska sent an income tax form to fill out; nothing in, most of it goes out, so we’re good. (Cue dun-dun-dun music!)

And here it is! Sarpy County Jury Commission. What? Well, that will certainly put a crimp in my timeline and planning! But maybe I can get some ideas for a book! Wouldn’t that be fun! January 31 – February 25. 8:30 – 4:30 I think. Wow. Four months away from the age you can be to take an age exemption. We’ll make the best of it, boys & girls.

See what we mean by the best laid plans of mice and men? Have a beautiful rest of the day, folks. We’ll see each other tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

Judge Not,That You Not Be Judged

I committed a colossal boo-boo yesterday. I wrote the blog, but didn’t publish it last night. How silly of me? I saw my stats were high today, thinking, “What’s going on?” I knew as soon as I saw there were 4 draft articles. Two are real drafts, one was started today, one was from yesterday. At least I have a good answer for the high traffic. Sorry, folks.

What might we leave behind this year that will lighten our load into next year? Blame would be one for me. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to understand why some things have happened in my life, even why I have thought the way I do. Blame sounds so negative, and we are free to place blame somewhere else – but only once. Once allows you to learn why and how certain behaviors were done done to you, around you, and why they hurt you. Blame is finding the source and giving it credit for negative example, outcomes, etc. Blame is assigned, and you have to let it go. Blame is different than credit, although credit is positive and therefore light. It’s not the burden blame is. Blame is excess baggage that holds you back. Credit propels you forward.

So after admitting out loud and to myself about blame I’m assigning, how & why it happened, I’m putting it away. In it’s bag. Where it needs to stay. I’ve packed my generational part of the trauma and don’t need to know any more about it. Today and tomorrow is what’s on my mind now. Today more than tomorrow. We have five grandchildren in three states, and pray they carry only positive things with them. They hopefully will face their ghosts head on and won’t need to ponder them for so long. I did for a very long time, and finally can put them to rest. I feel lighter, almost like losing the 45 pounds on Keto in the last year. Yes, it’s symbolic, isn’t it?

You see, if you continue to place blame, you must be prepared to accept your share of it. Yes. That’s it. Things you did wrong to others. Things you’re being blamed for. Sure, you didn’t know better when you were doing them, but . . . you didn’t know better. You do now. Accept your shortcomings. They came from lack of information. Just like the generation before. Don’t you feel lighter? I do already.

I food cheated more than one day during the holiday, now it’s time to get serious again. Keto, here we come again. Well, at least me. January 1, 2022 will begin a new regimen for sure. New schedule, new habits, new goals. Still planning. Sweets are fabulous and luscious and easy to get hooked on. Over and over. We all do it. And now, it’s time to get over them. It’ll feel good to eat good things again. Lighter. No Baggage. Healthy Food. Healthier Body. More writing. Great things are ahead, aren’t there?

Are your bags packed up with most of the resentment from long ago? Are they ready to go . . . away? They cannot be carried into 2022 if you want to live up to your potential. We can remind each other not to dwell on past hurts or future worries. Today and our goals are all that matter. All else will fall into order. Thank you for reading. See you tomorrow!

All Hallows’ Eve

So the other day when I was at the doctor’s office, he asked if I was giving out treats or not. I said I hadn’t decided yet. He told me they weren’t going to. He said it’s a perfect super spreader of COVID. When you think about it, he’s right. I’ve decided not to pass out any candy, then no one can pass things to us, either. It makes sense in this time of COVID.

Tomorrow is my big day, I’ll start writing 1,667 words a day for the whole month of November. I think it should be attainable. I’m already writing blogs a couple days ahead, then scheduling when to publish them. I love that about Word Press. The only thing is I still need to manually publish to my Jewell Publishing LLC page and my personal page, Kathy Jewell Raabe. It is all ok, at least I’ll pre-schedule the daily blogs, leaving more time for my novel. It’ll take a bit to put my mind back in the story, but we’ll get there.

When we were kids, it was perfectly safe to go out on Halloween, around your neighborhood, and collect candy from every house in the neighborhood. There were a couple houses that were pretty scary, and no one knew them well at all. We avoided that house like the plague. The old nuns told us we needed to dress like the saints, maybe our patron saint, it possible. We were told to especially avoid dressing in devil costumes. They may have even told us it was sinful to do so. Nothing could glorify Satan like the red devil costume.

Our costumes were pretty basic. For many years, my older brother, who was rather small in stature, wore a purchased skeleton costume. It had a hooded face mask that was cloth, and eye holes cut. We hated those plastic masks since we both wore glasses. Couldn’t see a thing through the fog! We had a box of old costumes from Mom’s sisters. An angel smock in white, all sorts of sashes, etc. My kids used many of those, too. Grandma sewed them and they were sturdy. I suppose I gave them to Goodwill after my kids were finished with them.

I’ve told my Halloween horror story many times. Here it goes again. In 1975, when I was very pregnant with my second child Nicholas, we lived in an old neighborhood, on a hill. Most of the neighbors we knew lived down the hill, where there were long staircases up the hill to the houses, then the houses had at least 6 – 10 steps up to the porches and front doors. Did I mention there were fences between many of the yards, and you couldn’t cut across the yards? My Frankie was just four years old and very shy. I held his hand up all 10,000 steps, down them, then up the next 10,000 steps . . . well, you get the picture. I was 24 years old and in good shape. I prayed not to have a Halloween baby all night. He wasn’t born for another week, November 7. What a relief! Gosh, he’ll be 46 next week. Where does the time go?

The days are pretty chilly now and look to be all week. It’s probably time to bring in the outdoor furniture, and batten down the hatches. More evenings by the fireplace, which is our favorite. So relieved we feel better and don’t have any lasting effects from COVID. We have some friends who have lung issues and memory/other issues relating to impatience, general personality changes, and some balance issues. We are very fortunate. More blessings.

On the Keto front of my life, I’ve done a little back-sliding. Quit doing squats and was careless with eating, so I gained 5 pounds. I’m back at it, before it turns into 10, 20, 30, 40, or 50. That is where people get in trouble. I’ll be too busy to think about snacks during November.

Once we’re finished here, I’m putting my plans into a 3-ring binder to get organized for tomorrow. Each chapter will have a divider, along with notes. Part of the writing has to take you where it goes. The outline/plan/scene descriptions help get you there. I believe it’s a combination of being a pantster (one who writes by the seat of their pants) and an outliner. My book coach, Sam Tyler, helped me see how much easier it was to outline. It lends a structure I didn’t have before.

My first NaNoWriMo in 2019 saw me crank out 40,000 words and I was ready to send it to someone to edit, print, and call it good. I believe most folks who do that don’t find success. I learned so much from Sam and from study on my own I cannot believe it. Sure, I’ll go back and see if I can resurrect what I wrote. Maybe there were too many characters to do them all justice. I went down a path where two brothers were in a moral/physical/and life struggle. One told the other he would kill him if he ever heard of him hurting another character. Truthfully, it scared me. I may need to talk with someone about that. I just find it interesting, and wonder where and how that conflict would have resolved itself. You almost never know what path you will find yourself on when you go the pantster way. I am probably now a Planning Pantster.

Friends, I hope you each find abundance in your lives during this Autumn Harvest season. The colors are so beautiful this time of year. I remember reading stories in our Grand School Literature class about Harvest. Living in Nebraska my whole life, I’m a city girl, but I live in the country now, sort of. Our little town of 4,000 + is seeing a building boom in the last five years. Many housing divisions are set to begin, a large chain grocery store, and several retirement centers are touting their future location. Something for everyone! Building homes, schools, community recreation areas are all great signs. My hope is they really build a new library in our neighborhood. It will be perfect for us (especially ME!).

Be careful out there tonight with your little goblins. I hope you all stay warm enough! Have fun, and we’ll see each other tomorrow! Be Kind.

Renewal Thursday!

There are so many pieces to having a presence on Social Media promoting yourself. Many things, like Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter are free. I’ve seen followers increase lately, and did a couple Facebook Ads, for my author page, business page, and the VFW Post. It’s amazing the traffic that can be brought to your door. We’re trying to keep up all four pages (including my personal account) on a daily basis. It’s fun, but time consuming.

Other parts are the “set and forget” kind. Like my website/blog. It’s where I have followers and folks who read my blogs daily. When I originally set up the website, I paid for two years, since it was cheaper. Best money I ever spent. It’s my consistent practice writing. I’m experimenting with my craft with learning about websites, and making my presence known.

When I logged in earlier this week and saw the message, “Renew Your Subscription,” I stopped and smiled. I’ve stuck with it for two whole years. I’ve learned so much. Mostly what not to do. But I’ve had a lot of fun doing it. With a happy heart, I hit the renew button, entered my credit card info, and thought, “You’ll really be published next time you renew this!” How very exciting!

I’ve published 746 blogs before today. That’s a bunch. Some haven’t been very good, and I know that. It’s all part of the process. It’s all there, good and bad. I can definitely see improvement in content, form, and all that jazz. There is always room for more improvement. I take it day by day. Another month is ending and a brand new, shiny one is on the horizon. I like month’s with 31 days in them. They feel more complete.

The next three months will see me sprucing up the website, adding some information, and hopefully, publishing my kid’s book. More on that a bit later. I’m just going to enjoy the feeling of continuing to create on my website/blog and know it will just get better. And you know, the kid book is about our grandson Gavin and his love for dogs. Especially our special dog, Roxie.

When we lost her, it was an accident, and it hurt us for a very long time. In fact, the only thing I could do when she died was write. I wrote one of my first blogs on a regular basis about her. I think telling Gavin’s grief story can help other children learn something important about loss and coping with it. He is doing very well two years later, and loves Goldie, who is a crazy lab who loves to play catch, and his Josie, who came to live with them a year ago. He is old enough to care for a dog and it’s good responsibility for him. How things have changed!

We have a book launch to attend tonight at 5:30. I think I purchased the book beforehand, so we’ll be picking it up and listen to the presentation the author gives. I want to take it all in, because I’ll be having one before too long myself. It’s all coming together. Good days and bad days, all happening at once. Life is indeed, very good. Have a great evening. See you tomorrow!