Gosh Dern, Friday already??!

      I can't believe it's Friday already.  Well, maybe not for you yet, but for me since I'm still up.  

      I often think I don't get much accomplished, but I do.  This week, besides the research I've talked about, I've also re-started indexing the genealogy book.  That's such a tedious job!  I want the index to be useful, so I really pay attention to details of the work.  But details can drive ya nuts, too!   It is common for names to be shortened in genealogical sources like obits and funeral homes, or family letters, which makes it harder to index.  Also we have a lot of repeat names (Jr's and Sr's) so I have to constantly stop to make sure which William, which John, which George a record is referring to!  geesh   Like I said, it can get tedious.

     I've been adding to my other writings too.  A little at a time.  

     I can't wait until one of my projects is completely DONE!   The day "the end" appears, I'm going to celebrate!!  Not sure what the celebration will be yet, maybe get a special meal brought in?  That sounds pretty good. 

     One thing I wish I had is a secretary!   Maybe it'd be harder, but if I could have someone else who types faster than I do, that would be cool!    Having help with the index has been great (I call her my "helper" - so original, huh?).   If I had a secretary (or two - LOL) I could delegate some of the non-writing work that are within the projects I'm doing.   Maybe then I wouldn't be up at 3 am to do my 2 journals  ;-) 

      Time for sleep.  The alarm will ring in 3 hours -- ack!   Just a normal morning here.

Tired?

     Don't know why but I'm sad this morning.  It's been a hard week; maybe that's why.  Last week, a doctor appointment and getting my hair cut on the same day ended up making a lot of pain etc.  Seven days later and it's still hard to walk.  That gets old...real quick.  And it just seems to be getting harder to do any activity, and recover afterward. 

     Add in the awful heat and humidity.  It's been hard to get much sleep; I'm sure that doesn't help my mood today; I'm probably just tired.

     As always, I've been busy.  The shift is due soon to going back into writing a lot again. We got to page 225 indexing my 1 genealogy book, and I still need to write the end of it.  But, we got plenty to index between pg 225 & the last part!  It's amazing the numbers of individuals that come from the meeting of 2 people - and how many people each of us meet or know in a lifetime.  Maybe I'll need to make the index into a "book" by itself--LOL!

     I got stuck writing about my sister.  I guess I'll just write it a few sentences at a time. I did keep writing other sections - there's always something to write... 

    

What did I do? lol

     I wonder if internet providers ever give awards to the person with the most emails at one time?  If they did, I'd have to be the winner, hands down!

      With the amount of research I do for writing, genealogy, and other interests, I have a bad habit of sending myself emails as a "quick save" of data - or something I need to finish.  After a while, the in-box gets pretty full.  Add to those any new emails from others and... whew... I get swamped. 

      I do pretty good at saving the data-emails onto my hard drive or back-up media.  It's just there's always so much to save.

      I think I'd feel a time warp or something if I ever got the in-box cleared out and just had say 10 emails.  Wow, ten?  Is that even possible?  Yes, it is possible.  I know it is.  Afterall, I have very few emails on my "other" names.  So maybe I can have hope afterall?  <maniacal laugh!>

      Well.... I need to go deal with my in-box.... Maybe one day it will actually be ---

                   EMPTY !

 

Our children...

      Breaking news: 3 young  missing boys dead in Camden, NJ.  

     How I hate bad news about our children..  Yes, OUR children.  They are our nation's children.  So many missing kids; abducted kids; kids who do dangerous things because they are kids and lack skills to foresee the danger.

       It sounds likely that the Camden kids were playing, and climbed into the trunk of a car near the house of one of the kids.  Maybe they were going to play hide n seek from the mother...  we'll never know.  The trunk was closed, or closed for some reason, and there they were... for two days... in this extreme heat...  Did they call out, bang on the car?  Seems likely they did - if only they had been heard. 

     I cry when I see news like this.  I hurt for the parents.  I hurt for the kids. 

     This journal and my writing isn't a place to point fingers; that isn't my intent tonight.  But, I do think better protocols need to be established as a baseline search when a child goes missing.  It should be in 3 areas:

 (1) the child's home, crawlspaces, yard/acreage, out buildings, garage, and all vehicles before anyone can drive any off / away from the propety;

(2) the neighborhood - alleys, abandoned buildings, creeks, sheds, stairwells, etc.

(3) the larger community, including the Amber Alert if appropriate. 

And all 3 should be done simultaneously, in every missing child case.

          A police dog supposedly  "tracked" the boys to the river and lost the scent.  All the while, the car in which they were trapped was within sight of the house.  Maybe the police dog tracked an old scent? 

          How many people walked right on by that car?

          I will get on a soap box here about one thing.  Isn't it time for all vehicles, including old models, to be fitted with some internal trunk release mechanism?  State governments regulate other vehicle laws at times of registration and renewal; a trunk safety release could be enforced at that time.  A law needs to be made to address vehicles that sit disabled or junked, even on private property, that replaces the key/lock trunk mechanism with a non-locking replacement until the vehicle is running & usable again.  How many more kids need to die before we make sich simple changes?

        Issues of child abduction, molestation and murder is beyond what I can emotionally address here.  As a nation, we are doing a poor job watching and protecting, and then finding those who are missing.  Heck, USA "child protective" agencies are not even doing a good job keeping track of kids in their "care and control."  We need better guidelines here too, and punishment for those who don't do their jobs. 

        In the end, we have too many baby and child funerals.  When will we treasure our kids and create better plans to rescue/help kids when something goes amiss?

 

 

BIG, WIDE, COLORS!

      Kids love to color.  There is a period of many years (age: from first time they hold a crayon until maybe age 7 or 8) when they just don't care WHAT they color: walls, the electric bill, sister Barbara's science report, brother Bob's report card, daddy's paycheck, mommy's eyeglasses.  They have no reserve -- they just want to see COLORS, and relish in the creative accomplishment they've done. 

      Why do we lose that freedom of spirit?   Why do we lose that spontaneous creativity?  Way before school age is when we're expected to understand "mine and yours" and how "you can mess up your own stuff but don't mess up mine."  But then kids are then still content to "mess up" and draw their lovely pictures on "their own" stuff - their books (adding to the illustrations therein), their shoes, their bed frame, their walls, their dolls or trucks....and for a limited time after starting school, even on their lunch box, their own report card.... 

      By age 8 though, that all gets squashed as kids are taught that one's art is not valuable in some places and earns grades only if art is made on certain things.  Unfortunately, that thing usually is a single-sided sheet of 8 1/2 by 11 inch plain white paper, or worse, papers with pre-drawn designs or pictures to color.  Enter the "perfect coloring book" stage.  "Stay in the lines," we have told kids so much by age 8 that their only remaining creativity is in their choice of colors.   We now have little "artists" by mimeograph/Xerox, as long as they stay in the lines within the small piece of paper.

      It's no wonder it takes many people decades to reclaim their true artistic spirit!   The first time as an adult when one chooses not only the color, but the space the color uses, releases a new taste of freedom!  If you have any doubt, buy a 20 foot by 20 foot canvas (even a tarp will do for the first time) and a 4 inch wide paint brush along with several or more cans of different color paint.  Lay out the tarp or canvas and -- Make a swipe!   Go ahead!  Make another swipe!  There's no pre-printed picture, no lines to stay inside.  Load your brush and hold it above the tarp and let it just DRIP.  Dribble the color around.  Fling your paint right to left, or top to bottom with a flip of your wrist.   Stab and dab at the surface with the paint.  Twirl the brush.  How many different ways can you "paint"? 

      Stand up and paint.  Now sit down (cross-legged if ya can) and add to your creation.  Best yet, sprawl out on your belly, propped on elbows, and get real close to your colors and drawing.   Experiment.  What can you see?  What can you dream?

      It's real hard to teach oneself to forget to be "reserved."  We were are all trained so well when young.  But, don't you just want to see the COLORS?  And feel good about your creation, whatever it is?  And feel good, even if what you've made looks "messed up" to everyone else?  (What's so wrong with a mess sometimes?)

     Try it.  Let your spirit be free - finally!  See the COLORS!!!!
    

Busy, Busy!

          In "research" phases, I work, work, work.  My arm feels like it's going to fall off from all the typing I've been doing!  Seriously. I found some good name-lists I'm transcribing for genealogy.  So, I'm keeping busy!

     I did write 2 short articles though.  What can I say?  <giggle>  The 2 just slipped out.  I'm certainly not going to stop an article that wants to be writtem down!

Writing

      I find I go through periods of writing (up to 8 hours a day or more, for a day to several or more days), then through period when all I do is research.  Most research is genealogy or history related, or just research on whatever subject strikes my writing fancy. 

    So today is a research day, which can end up being a few days to a week. Then, it'll switch to writing (hate to call it a frenzy, but it sure seems to get all saved up).  I wish I had more control over when I can and can't write...

Taking some "Down Time"

     Yesterday I slept the entire day, which is very unusual for me.  The past 3 weeks were terribly hot and humid (tranlates to no sleep), plus I had an infection, so I got little sleep.  Yesterday had been much cooler, and much better for sleeping.  So I probably needed yesterday's rest - badly!

     At the same time, I feel guilty since I didn't get anything done!  I'm a bit "stuck" in my primary writing projects, too... which doesn't help, just makes me feel guilty for not getting more done.

     Typically I just switch to another project (I sure have plenty to choose from!).  But none of them are hitting my fancy right now. 

     Sometimes... writing is just work... LOL.  But, I'm not very disciplined today....

Here

      I live in a sprawling, half-block long, old house that was converted to 2 apartments; I'm on the first floor.  Other than being cold and drafty in the winter and too hot in the summer, I like my apartment.   Three rooms of the original house (they added on other rooms in the back) have beautiful stained glass windows.  In the largest room are two tall stained glass windows -- just like in a church.  One is small: maybe 48" wide x 4 feet high.  It's got reds, purples, golds, yellows and greens.  It's completely made of the stained glass with no clear glass, so it doesn't open.  Neither does the tallest stained glass window, which starts about waist high and ends within a foot of the 9+ foot high ceiling.  Another one in that room is a rectangular shape.  It actually has a wall behind it, so technically it isn't a window.  A very old switch turns on a a tiny light bulb that sits between the glass and the wall.  I often turn the light on at night with all other lights off;  the colors are beautiful. 

     The other 2 rooms that have stained glass have it across the top of regular windows with a picture window between the smaller windows.  Sun pours through the room on the east every morning, while the west-facing room gets the afternoon sun.  Although beautiful, the stained glass helps heat the apartment, making it nicer in the winter but upping the heat inside in the summer.  The windows would be much more enjoyable if the house was better insulated and if there was central air.

     A second bedroom, a dining area, kitchen and bath was put on the back as an addition.  They sit partly over the original 9 foot deep, large (& I mean large) well that used to be right outside the original kitchen (now the center of the house).  Shortly after moving in, I put in insulation in the crawl spaces under the back rooms.  That's when I discovered the uncovered 9 foot dry well (double well, side by side).  With help of another person, we cleaned out the well, finding old bottles, 1960s "adult magazines," along with a big collection of wood and construction materials.  We laid sheets of 1" plywood over each side of the well to stop the cold air coming in (the holes were so long and so wide, each plywood sheet was used uncut).  It felt good that all the stuff my dad taught me about house construction had come in handy as I "weatherized" and "improved" through little projects.

     The property has 7 medium-sized flower beds, and an approx. 10 foot x 20 foot garden.  I used to take care of all of them - until I got sick.  What had been fun hobbies became too difficult to do anymore.  No more eating green beans from the vine,  no more beefstake tomatoes so big they hung over the edges of slices of bread.  Flower bulbs that needed split up 6 years ago have finally choked themselves underground as they continued to multiply themselves every year.  The once-fertile garden now grows 6 foot tall "weeds" that took over after my last garden attempt 6 years ago; the landlord apparently has no interest in cutting that area, although he has weed-wacked the entire bed of daisies and Black-eyed Susans, all the daffodils, and several blooming rosebushes.  He said it was an accident, but I don't see how he could commit the same accident in 4 separate flower beds; he just didn't want the job of weeding those areas.   He loves his weed-wacker!  One pass and "the problem" is gone!  But, so is the beauty gone that grew there too.

     I often miss doing the weeding, gardening and "home improvement" projects I did.  Bad backs and bad legs make obstacles for many former gardeners.  Illness has even made a "great, roomy apartment" now feel like a burden.  Walls need washed, carpets need scrubbed, and just keeping up with the little things one does regularly in their home or apartment has become too hard.   And, no matter how many people you hire to do a job (and they can do the jobs well), nothing replaces the personal satisfaction one gets in doing projects on your own. 

     So "here" no longer fits my needs.  I can't manage a large house now.  Trekking stairs has become too hard so I cannot get to the basement.  And even simple tasks now cause frustration.  I hope that wherever I move next, it might have parts of this apartment, but be a scaled-down version.  Maybe a window box instead of flower beds and garden?  Maybe a touch of stained glass here and there.  Include a quiet setting, and I'd be content.

     Obviously, I have survived since my sister died in June 2003.   I wasn't sure some days if I would/could survive.   I had months of very tough grieving, anger, and challenging God to show me (quickly) what my next plan should be.  But, there was no major revelation coming.  In the face of "finality," all I could do was joke about God having a bad sense of humor. 

     People always say the old "When God closes a door, he opens a window."  But, with my sister gone and the plan to move in with her was eliminated, I'm still living in the same place I've been for over 10 years.  I've made many adaptations (not structural though) to my environment to make day-to-day living easier, but overall, not much is different.  Well, except me.

     After a while of being ill, I realized I had a conflict or struggle to sort through, being this: At what point does an ill, disabled person simply accept their "condition" and limitations, or how long does one continue to strive to get back to their original self?  But it isn't really that much of an "either-or."  Over time, the two begin to feel more balanced, although seemingly polar opposites.  I started to accept that I probably would never be my old, active self again, and that I had to strive for what I could make change and make better (even if those things were small).  But, I still don't fully "accept" the physical changes and challenges that have come to my life. 

     I continue think about my "options," and still think I could benefit from moving to a smaller apartment.   When you have chronic illnesses, it's often scary to continue living alone, not sure what the next day will bring.  Yet, I want to maintain my independence too!   Hopefully, I'll soon figure out where to move -- and how to accomplish a move.  Until then.... here I am.

 

Hard Days, Hard Nights

         Physical pain is a difficult companion.  It always demands one's attention; like monsters under the bed, it grabs your awareness 10-fold. 

     Most people think activity lessens pain, but there are conditions which don't respond positively to activity or exercise.  There are some types of pain that don't respond to the strongest narcotics either.  Neuropathic pain (or neuropathy) is one type, but the "pain" is not easily described.  Neuropathy can be constant feeling of burning, tingling, "crawling" sensations (like bugs crawling on your skin), grabbing, stabbing, scratching, or plain heightened sensitivity - or any combination of those symptoms.  In addition to those, the limb or body part can feel extremely cold or hot, even though skin temperature feels normal. 

     One doctor in describing neuropathic pain used the analogy of a radio that is just static, with the volume turned all the way up.  It is constant, unending, severe, all-encompassing PAIN.  Unfortunately, few medicines help.

       Some days, I don't know how to live with this monster. 

It's ten past the hour

After four, soon to be light

She wonders "why continue"

Another 24 to bravely fight.

 

To keep pain "manageable"

A rectangle strip on her skin

It absorbs slowly, effortlessly

The only thing to keep her livin'

 

It overpowers, consumes, stalks-

Nothing controls the fierce beast

Ravages mind and body, alive -

In battle, her strength is least

 

It's ten past the hour

Another day, now past

She wonders how long

Against pain she will last.

 

Weeks, months, a year

A calendar marks the days

The struggles, unending

With barely strength to pray.

 

(C) Copyright 2005. No permission to reproduce in any form without the written consent of the author.

CONFIDENTIALITY NOTICE

        We've all seen the confidentiality notices at the end of some companies' emails. 

       You know the statements, like: CONFIDENTIALITY NOTICE: This email communication and any attachments may contain confidential and privileged information for the use of the designated recipients named above. If you are not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that you have received this communication in error and that any review, disclosure, dissemination, distribution or copying of it or its contents is prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please reply to the sender immediately or by telephone at (area code) exchange-XXXX and destroy all copies of this communication and any attachments.  For further information regarding Our Offficial Company Who Pays High Priced Lawyers Who Developed Our Corporations's  Privacy Policy, please visit our Internet web site at any-official http:// www. Any Official Corporation Mentioned In This Email .com.

       I just wonder how many of those companies know their confidentiality statement has been seen at the end of emails like:
=personal email to family
=pictures
=X-rated pictures
=jokes
=jokes with pictures, icons, emoti-cons, etc
=spam alerts
=a spoof alert that the spam alert wasn't true
=virus alerts
=a spoof alert saying the virus alert is not true (even though 20 friends insisted it was a "really bad virus")
=essays making fun of spam and virus alerts
=recipes
=true prayers
=prayers - the ones you must send to 10 people in 5 minutes
=novinas - the ones you must send to 22 people in 2 minutes
=proven returns - the ones you must send to 6 people you don't know for your wish to come true
=expressions of friendship - the ones you must send back to the sender to prove you are really a friend
="___ Day" (Buddy Day; Friendship Day; Online Friends Day; War Protest Day; Today =is the Day....any day you call it day)
=short humorous stories
=short inspirational stories
=short inspirational stories that tell you to have a Kleenex ready
=forwards of warnings about overseas "banking" email schemes from supposed war-torn third world countries asking you to give a bank account number so they can deposit 3 million dollars, of which they will give you 15% "of proceeds"
=forwards of warnings about phishing
=forwards of warnings concerning any major company, usually ones concening computer companies
=forwards of other computer hoaxes
=forwards to tell you that malicious codes can be entered onto your hard-drive if you do any innocent act, which then allows the virus to enter your backdoor, using your hidden key you put under the flower pot, sneak into your bedroom, erase your memory in 1 second (lol, like I had that much memory to erase!), then stun your dog, make your cat stop being haughty, make your wife/husband be more loving, make your kids be obedient...and lastly, infects all the food in your fridge...
=Emails selling.... High Demand and Costly Computer Programs for $10.00 plus S/H.... Viragra or other high demand drug... or other sales pitches...
=ETC. !

     Moreso, I wonder about all the employees, sitting at their work stations, sending out all these emails during work hours, using official company email systems?  I think it degrades a company's image to have their "confidentiality statements" end up as tags on these spam and basically junk emails.  No, I'm not a stick in the mud; I enjoy a good joke and inspirational stories -- but my eyebrows go up when I see the company tag line.  It really gets to me when the tag line is from a government agency, like the IRS on a joke or other non-official email!  We PAY those workers to WORK, not send out spam, junk, jokes, and virus warnings.

     Half the time I don't know the people in the "TO" field, or the names that appear in the "TO" fields on endless "forwards" that email has had!  Am I the only person who knows how to copy and paste?  It's quite easy -- highlight just the message area (not the previous email addresses!), click Ctl+C, open a new email screen, click Ctl+V, and enter a subject line, the new email addresses you want to send to, and click send.  Ah, I forgot one thng--- add a ( before the first email address, and a ) after the last email address to create a "BCC" list.  "BCC" stands for "blind carbon copy."  Using BCC, you won't show a list of 20 of YOUR friends' addresses to everyone that ends up later getting a forward (for the 6th time) of the same email.

     Companies need to crack down on the use of their email systems.  When I feel particularly crabby on some days, I think about forwarding the email to the company whose "confidentiality statement" appears at the end of the junk email.  I don't think the companies would be too happy to see the junk with their company name at the end!  Maybe we should all start notifying companies about emails that contain company names? 

      My pet-peeve for today.

No Coincidence

     In truth, it's probably not a coincidence that I re-opened this journal now.  Early June was 2 years since my sister died, and she is one reason I started writing here.  Plus, I've recently started writing about what it was like to go through the grieving I did, especially the initial notification and those initial months.  No, I'm not writing it to re-suffer, but because it is one part of a journey I went through.  The problem is, though, writing about her death and my grief takes me back through so many hard emotions.  I could skip the entire thing in what I'm writing, but it belongs in the overall story.

     We were really close and shared a lot of experiences.  We relied on each other, even though we rarely saw each other (due to distance and finances).  But we talked many times a week and supported each other quite a lot.  I didn't (don't) feel that same connection with my other sisters. 

     When I got ill, my sister said she would take me in.  That really meant a lot, because there is no magic that is going to make me better anytime soon.  My sister recognized that and was willing to step in to help me.  But, I hadn't gotten moved before she died.  So, on top of losing her, I also felt -- abandoned?  That sounds silly coming from an adult.... unless you are in a difficult health situation.   Health problems can turn your life upside down.  And, you need family to get through it.

     I guess I should be glad I hadn't gotten moved though.  She had a husband, and after her death he handled his grief very badly; he wanted me to take my sister's place.  I knew he was just lonely and very adrift - he'd been with my sister for over 30 years; they'd met when she was a teenager and I was just a child.  But, his inappropriate suggestions and advances were awfully difficult to deal with in a loving manner.  He persisted in verbal approaches for many months, despite knowing I was ill.  I don't know how many times I told him "I will always love you because you were my sister's husband, but I don't want to sleep with you and I will never dishonor my sister that way."   But, he dealt with his grief from behind his zipper, so to speak, rather than realizing that what he really needed was simple comfort (not sexual comfort).   He *finally* got the message -- of course it helped that he'd found himself a girlfriend where those advances were much more appropriate.  But.... because of how he acted, I am glad I hadn't moved there before my sister died -- I cannot imagine how much worse it could have been from him if I'd been living there!

     And, his behavior took away the mutual support we might have been able to give to each other.  We couldn't talk about memories of her (which I needed to do) as long as he was so focused on dealing with his grief by trying to get sex.  Obviously, I have also had to distance myself from him.  So I lost more of a connection to her, because I simply could not/cannot trust him.

     I didn't realize how close I'd been to my sister until I found a picture of us as kids.  I was very little, and she had reached back to hold my hand.  Maybe I was scared - I don't remember.  The picture conveyed this feeling of protection.  How similar it felt in 2003 before her death - big sister who was going to take care of me because I was sick.  Months after she died I cried "You left me!"  And I really felt that way.  Ill, alone, and scared, unsure what the future would hold for me. 

     Going through illness without family support has been really tough.  But many other people face the same thing every day, which is why I've been trying to write my experiences; maybe it will help someone else get through their difficulties better. 

 

Who's writing?

     Okay, I can't just sit and stare at this space.  First, that would be a boring way to spend a hot, and very humid, Sunday afternoon.  Second, just because my brain feels fried today doesn't mean I'm out of things to say.  Third, not writing won't help me get past the awkward feeling of re-starting a journal I haven't kept updated.

     That's part of the problem.  I feel I should somehow update everything I've done in a year.  But, gosh that's a tall order!  It's intimidating!  It would take me a month to talk about "everything" I've done in a year!  So, I'm not going to think of writing here as an update.  Problem solved.

     I seem to have gotten into a pattern with my writing projects.  I can spend a solid week engrossed in one project.  Then, I shut down, can't write another word, and stop working on that project.  I don't stop working entirely, mind you, I just shift to another incomplete project.  It all seems to balance out, but I can see why it has taken years for an author to complete a book. 

     So last week I concentrated on the physical disabilities novel.  It's a heavy piece.  Draining to write.  I tend to write short-short stories within the piece which weave together into the larger work.  It's easier to write it in chunks like that, because it is difficult to expose so many raw emotions.  The last section I was writing was about losses one goes through in life and with a disability or illness: family deaths, friends who've drifted away, loss of one's independence or dreams, loss of your former self and coming to terms with the new person you become while dealing with illness.  Like I said, heavy writing.  No wonder I do it in sections with lots of breaks in-between!

     Up to a couple weeks ago, I was deep into writing the genealogy and church history.  (I never planned on becoming a "church historian" but I seem to have become one with researching this church and the congregation!)  The good - and bad - thing about genealogy research is you can spend 8 or more hours a day making "finds" and "connections, adding to information, amassing information.  One clue leads to another clue, and so on -- until one day, you get so much information stuffed into your brain that your brain seems to not hold any more "data."  That's the bad side of making too many "finds."  The researcher (me) is forced to take a break from researching.  (I wonder if this is why one finds so many academics sitting quietly in their university offices, just thinking?  Maybe they filled up their brains too much over a few short weeks and their brains feel too stuffed?)   Think of how you felt doing a school research paper and that's how I'm feeling right now.  I just can't stuff one more name into my brain and figure out if the person is related to the larger family, and if they are, how?

     So in the off-times from those 2 projects, I turn to something else to work on.  Little by little, I am accomplishing what I'm intending to get done.

 

     Just, not today.....

They say time flies...

     ACK!

     Well..... I really hadn't intended to be gone sooooo long.   A year ago... gee... what was I doing a year ago? 

    After -- no "after" isn't the right word -- IN the midst of -- (that's more accurate) -- a lot of grieving about my sister, and my grandmother, and personal losses, I have spent the past year writing, developing or continuing writing projects, and....jumping around from one thing to another.

     Sometimes I feel like I have a plate of peas, and I'm always trying to keep the peas from falling off of the plate which dips and twists around like a carnival ride!  Half the peas though are things I put there myself, so... I shouldn't complain when I feel I have "too much" going on.  LOL

     I'm embarrassed to say that I have not pursued publishing of my articles.  I need a shot of confidence I guess - a BIG shot.  But, that goal is still on my plate.  One day, I'm just going to have to take the plunge and start sending items out --- and deal with the rejection.  (Oh no!  not rejection, oh please!)

     Some of the things I've written or worked on the past year --

1. Finishing (and I mean "finishing") a genealogy book.  I'm in the process of indexing the first 2/3rds of it, while writing and editing the last 1/3.  With so many names in the book, the index will probably be a mini-book! 

2. When I get burned out on the genealogy book, I research on other lines.  Have learned a lot of new info on my other families!

3. I started a novel about being chronically ill and what life is like when your body doesn't allow much freedom.

4. I took a short story I wrote about Judas and started making it into a short novel.  That got bogged down so I put the work aside.

5. Poetry.  I'm surprised I can still write those; I'd stopped writing poems a long time ago.

6. I'm collecting info about coal miners for a possible book.

    And more... but 6 is enough to list here!