How the Time Flies!

Merry Christmas, a day late!

I thought about posting this yesterday, but Christmas is a time to spend together with family and friends. This year was my son's first with his girlfriend and her 2 year old son, so he got to experience for the first time, all the craziness that goes with making accommodations for two sets of parents and grandparents. It brought a smile to my face, watching my first born take those steps in manhood, a rite of passage I didn't even know existed until it happened.

With 50+ Christmas' under my belt, I sat and thought long and hard about the most memorable holiday experiences of my life. Most are happy, family and friends; the worst stands out every year: the year my father was in intensive care with an unknown infection and a fever bordering on 104 degrees.

My father went into the hospital the first week of December 1982, with a high fever and general aches and pains of unknown origin. Three days into the stay, he suffered the first seizure, while I was on the phone with my mother. Racing to join her from three different directions, my siblings and I made our way there. The news - Daddy had a stroke. Then came the phone call I dreaded, come to the hospital now, your father is dying.

Upon arrival I was informed my strong, invincible father had a hole in his heart. Conferring with my brother the doctor in South Carolina the decision was made to move Daddy to Emory Hospital, where my brother had a friend in the cardiac department. Since he was too sick to move by ambulance, a Life Flight helicopter was arranged.

The worst feeling I ever had was watching the 'copter leave not knowing that when it landed he would be alive. All three of us had our own cars, so we each drove across town, reconnecting in the parking lot. As we walked into Emory, there was the Life Flight crew walking back out to leave for another mission. Seeing us, they stopped to tell us Daddy made it through the flight and was in the Coronary Care Unit.

Speaking with my brother by pay phone, I sat by the window of his room, watching the action through a crack at the bottom of the blinds and relaying everything to John as he drove through the night to join us at Emory.

Everything eventually calmed down and Daddy stayed at Emory for 9 months before returning home a most different man than the one who left. But I will never forget that first Christmas without him at home, when my sister and I decorated a palm tree in Mother's living room with bows and ribbons and called it a tree.

Daddy died 9 year's later, 22 years old come next March, but I will always associate his illness with Christmas. It makes each one precious, knowing that at any moment it could be the last you have.

Happy Holidays, and as today is the first day - Happy Kwanzaa for those who celebrate. Please stop back by starting on New Year's Day and continuing for a week for a chance to win a $25 gift card to either Amazon.com or B&N.com; or a signed copy of my e-book, "Catalyst - Guardian Rising".

Wow, What a Rush!

Last weekend here in Georgia was magnificent. Clear blue skies, pleasant temperatures - all the right ingredients for contemplating my next story!

Actually, I have three that are battling for attention and it is becoming crowded in my head. Everyone is talking at once, all of them convinced their story is the most important, and I hoped taking last weekend off from writing and just wandering through the woods on horseback would put all the pieces in order. I was partly right.

Ever since childhood I have found solace in the forest. The lack of noise pollution, the quiet acceptance of the creatures, these are just two of the reasons I love the woods. As a teenager I would disappear into the trees behind our house (usually with a stolen pack of cigarettes I'm afraid), to spend hours staring up at the tall Georgia pines and majestic oaks; working out the mysteries of the universe in two hours or less before dark.

Riding through the property was awesome. The weather was just right, my mare figured out the way home and all I had to do was sit back and think. All my characters came forward and presented their cases.

I need to finish the synopsis for book 2 of the Guardian Stories. That is the first priority. Everything is ready for submission and waiting on me to finish the synopsis. But for some reason I am having a block against sitting down and writing, not just the synopsis but anything. My mind is full of snot, compliments of my children and husband, and I cannot put words together in any sort of sense.

There are two other stories vying for attention, who have also fallen victims to the mucus attack. I promised one the first crack when clean oxygen returns to my brain, but the other is going to have to wait, much to their consternation. I hate to say no to the voices in my head, but between making chicken soup for everyone, working two email accounts for work, picking up prescriptions, and blowing my own nose - something has to give.

All these things and more slogged through my densely crowded brain while Penny (the horse) and I tackled the woods and hills of Northwest Georgia. Wind from Superstorm Sandy the previous weekend had removed most of the leaves from the hardwoods. The sun was bright in a brilliant blue sky, with not a cloud to be seen and the air was warm until the light breeze stirred up a chill to brush the skin.

After a while it began to dawn on me to stop being so hard on myself. I need to just allow myself the time to care for my family and myself; something I tend not to do when I am in full on writing / working mode. September and October were crazy at my day job. My crews were out working more than 70 hours nine weeks in a row, which of course meant hubby and I were working those same hours. If my brain is overtaxed, there's a good reason for it.

So I've decided to spend some time doing nothing. I've worked hard, I owe myself downtime, and no one is going to deprive me of the opportunity to clean out the cobwebs and snot. I know many people are participating in the NaNo WrMo challenge of 50,000 words and more power to each of you! Believe me, I would if I could. But that's not where my head is at this moment. While the rest of you write, I'm going to relax, catch up on my reading and work on outlining my next book.

With that goal in mind, I make the pledge to not do any "serious" writing until after Thanksgiving, which is amazingly only one week away. So, for one week I am taking suggestion for books to read. I have a Nook and would like at least 5 books to choose from. If you know of something I should check out, leave me the title and author.

And with that, I'm off for the day. I think taking the pressure off might kick start the healing processes, and that might spread to the rest of my sickly family. And a healthy family for Thanksgiving is the best blessing of all!