On walks after dark, I don't venture too much into the park. It is safe, but I'm cautious so I hug the streets near houses. One evening, I encountered an inflatable decoration of a black stagecoach, carrying a pumpkin with a Grinch-like face. The Grinch who stole Halloween, got me to remembering.
Saturday evening gobbling the pliable caramel pop corn Katie made brought a memory of homemade pop corn balls we got as treats for Halloween. In our plastic masks and paper thin cloth coverings as skeletons, princesses, or Batman, many homemade treats were offered: apples, plain or candied, cookies, and the big pop corn balls. Huge candy bars also made the mix, no small penny candy, unless it was a man size handful.
Knocking on the door, we were expected to come into the homes to be guessed about our identities. One couple, Grace and Sam Clarke, down Main Street, decorated their home and wore white sheets as ghosts talking to each other to question who we were. Maybe scary music in the background. The whole trick or treat in those days was a neighborhood event.
In first grade, my sister, Gerri Lee, must have been home from college because we went all over the town, even up over the viaduct to my teacher's home. Gerri Lee had graduated with her son. Mrs. Nottingham used that clue of who escorted me to acknowledge me. I was thrilled. I believe that was the year I ate too much candy causing me to be very sick.
Years later, another home health nurse and I cared for Mrs. Nottingham. She knew what year she taught us and who was in our class. She was such a caring teacher.
In sixth grade, I felt I was too old for trick or treat. I passed out the candy to now kids from all over, no more a neighborhood happening. My parents living on Main Street attracted up to 300 kids and teenagers, that didn't even bother with costumes, at which my mom made known her displeasure . They just grinned sheepishly.
My mom rescued me that night from being a treat giver, encouraging me to don a mask and go to the neighbors. I gleefully did that, feeling giddy as I embraced the last of childhood.
I have always loved seeing the children in their costumes. Some are very creative.
For awhile, there was the Tylenol scare and always the threat of razors in apples or candy bars. Halloween was being kidnapped.
And then, the glorification of death for this fun day, made me dread October. Fake blood, bodies hanging from trees, and truly gory images ruined an otherwise beautiful season. Why all the details? Nice spider webs, bats and black cats with cute little ghosts was enough for me.
The death decorating doesn't seem to be as overwhelming as that time around the 1990's, I've observed. As an adult having Christian beliefs, Halloween has been a mixed bag for me. Have I walked the fence with my children? Children love to dress up, play make believe, and especially love candy. I chose to dress them as Bible characters to counteract all the evil. I do dislike the greed also associated with this day. One year the youth group did a reverse Trick or Treat, handing out candy in costume. But I could never, ever not hand out treats to the children. Jesus welcomed the children. He didn't have a turned off porch light. As I give them the Milky Ways, I pray they will know the Maker of the milky way.
Money at times has limited my extravagant treat giving. One year I made treat bags with an article about Halloween and following Jesus. I believe we have to take back this day. And as always, to God be the glory. He made all days and to each one, we are to rejoice in it.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Gearing up for NaNoWriMo
I want to get two more posts in before November 1. I hope Katie has installed all I need to write the novel on steroids. I was lettering away on my jet flight last evening in my lime green notebook about the trip. I practiced on word pad just to get better acquainted with my keyboard on the first plane out of Ontario, California to Houston. Practice keyboarding and storytelling.
Today was jet lag and just a bit of missing wonderful sunshine and family. Transitions. Mostly the sunshine because I came home to my husband and other daughter, my dog and cats, all glad to see me. 12 hours traveling created tension in my body. I recovered.
After a very late breakfast at the Diner in W. Middlesex, driving around the town and cleaning my parents' grave, the sun filtered through light clouds. I wanted to walk my dog. Forty degrees and no wind, made me think a sweater and lighter jacket would suffice and mostly they did. Just wish I had dug out a hat.
The park felt empty on the later Sunday afternoon. The trees, mostly bare, let more of the weak sunlight to the ground. We met a black dog with a knitted striped sweater jacket. A country dog new to the park showing off the new jacket from the neighbor, drool mixing with my dog's drool, happy to be in the park again. This dog, smaller than Harrison, let me pet her soft, shiny coat.
We glanced at Camo running circles with her long retractable leash. Her mistress calmly walked along behind her. Camo has lots of energy. No matter the weather, she is taken out every day.
Mostly though, the park is empty. With the nip in the air, Harrison, moves quickly, too. The leaves of red, pale yellow and brown piled under our feet. The huge red tree of two weeks ago is empty of all its leaves now. The air sounds quieter. The far off noises are faint.
I think and think about this month of novel writing ahead of me. Will I be able to blog? So much happened even this past week. I shared my lap top with my daughter and I loved being with my niece and her family. I could have made the time, sneaking off to the camper to write, but chose to be with the kids who will change by the time I see them again. I love those little people. Grace, long body and blonde hair, coming into her own person at six. Owen, a sweetheart, that can be very stubborn. Not a mean bone in his body, but he is still learning about getting his own way. He walks around with his hands on his hips and I think of my dad, my brother, my dad's brother and a distant cousin. How do these Lewis men share that trait? Owen is three, never met any of those men, yet there is that blood connection.
I think of the USC campus and the whirring of the students, on feet, on bikes, on skateboards. The blue skies that seem to never end. The smells of garlic food from the food courts, the rubber from the hundreds of bikes parked all over the campus. The newness of the buildings, yet the New England feel- also at UCLA. The old trees, the crooked sycamores, the straight pines, a hint of yellow in some of the leaves.
The ride to Big Bear, climbing thousands of feet through curves and hair pin turns. The vegatation adapting to each new foot of altitude. My ears popping and the sinuses pushing against my skull. When we arrive at the cabin, my legs ache to stretch. My ears hear the haunting sounds of wolves in the distance. I have never heard that before.
The night sky in the desert, even with the stadium lights, are vast. I am limited in my praise of the Lord. He stretched out His hands and made it all and named each star, calls them by name. My brother-in-law wished he had my belief.
So I hope as I write for NaNoWriMo in November, I can still write for you. New challenges. If you pray, pray that I can meet this goal of 1667 words a day. No editing, just writing. I love revision, so to just write will be different. Revision will come in December.
Today was jet lag and just a bit of missing wonderful sunshine and family. Transitions. Mostly the sunshine because I came home to my husband and other daughter, my dog and cats, all glad to see me. 12 hours traveling created tension in my body. I recovered.
After a very late breakfast at the Diner in W. Middlesex, driving around the town and cleaning my parents' grave, the sun filtered through light clouds. I wanted to walk my dog. Forty degrees and no wind, made me think a sweater and lighter jacket would suffice and mostly they did. Just wish I had dug out a hat.
The park felt empty on the later Sunday afternoon. The trees, mostly bare, let more of the weak sunlight to the ground. We met a black dog with a knitted striped sweater jacket. A country dog new to the park showing off the new jacket from the neighbor, drool mixing with my dog's drool, happy to be in the park again. This dog, smaller than Harrison, let me pet her soft, shiny coat.
We glanced at Camo running circles with her long retractable leash. Her mistress calmly walked along behind her. Camo has lots of energy. No matter the weather, she is taken out every day.
Mostly though, the park is empty. With the nip in the air, Harrison, moves quickly, too. The leaves of red, pale yellow and brown piled under our feet. The huge red tree of two weeks ago is empty of all its leaves now. The air sounds quieter. The far off noises are faint.
I think and think about this month of novel writing ahead of me. Will I be able to blog? So much happened even this past week. I shared my lap top with my daughter and I loved being with my niece and her family. I could have made the time, sneaking off to the camper to write, but chose to be with the kids who will change by the time I see them again. I love those little people. Grace, long body and blonde hair, coming into her own person at six. Owen, a sweetheart, that can be very stubborn. Not a mean bone in his body, but he is still learning about getting his own way. He walks around with his hands on his hips and I think of my dad, my brother, my dad's brother and a distant cousin. How do these Lewis men share that trait? Owen is three, never met any of those men, yet there is that blood connection.
I think of the USC campus and the whirring of the students, on feet, on bikes, on skateboards. The blue skies that seem to never end. The smells of garlic food from the food courts, the rubber from the hundreds of bikes parked all over the campus. The newness of the buildings, yet the New England feel- also at UCLA. The old trees, the crooked sycamores, the straight pines, a hint of yellow in some of the leaves.
The ride to Big Bear, climbing thousands of feet through curves and hair pin turns. The vegatation adapting to each new foot of altitude. My ears popping and the sinuses pushing against my skull. When we arrive at the cabin, my legs ache to stretch. My ears hear the haunting sounds of wolves in the distance. I have never heard that before.
The night sky in the desert, even with the stadium lights, are vast. I am limited in my praise of the Lord. He stretched out His hands and made it all and named each star, calls them by name. My brother-in-law wished he had my belief.
So I hope as I write for NaNoWriMo in November, I can still write for you. New challenges. If you pray, pray that I can meet this goal of 1667 words a day. No editing, just writing. I love revision, so to just write will be different. Revision will come in December.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Perfectly Blue Sky
Under strong light, we stared at the laptop, figuring out tuition for various colleges, routes and times to visit. I placed the facts on the table, careful to not to dash hopes, but these are things we had to consider. The house, quiet after the rambunctious children have relunctantly fallen asleep, breathed apprehension. Halloweeners are on the loose, destroying a neighbor's pumpkin the night before.
With my statement of facts, I wonder will my daughter miss home? She is fitting in with her cousins, really adoring the young ones and they her. She seemed fine about living so far from home, until I mentioned the favorite cat, then gloom fleeted over her face.
I laid in bed, praying and praying for wisdom. The next morning, my head feels the strain of wanting my daugter's dreams fulfilled and how I can do that. With God nothing is impossible, I so want to trust, yet, this is modern America. I pray more.
After my shower and her phone calls, the schedule is opening up. There is no marine layer here on the coast, the sun is shining, my head feels sane. I used this chance to again remind her, prayer works. Why is trusting in practice hard?
And the pumpkins and decorations are still intact this morning under the perfectly blue sky.
With my statement of facts, I wonder will my daughter miss home? She is fitting in with her cousins, really adoring the young ones and they her. She seemed fine about living so far from home, until I mentioned the favorite cat, then gloom fleeted over her face.
I laid in bed, praying and praying for wisdom. The next morning, my head feels the strain of wanting my daugter's dreams fulfilled and how I can do that. With God nothing is impossible, I so want to trust, yet, this is modern America. I pray more.
After my shower and her phone calls, the schedule is opening up. There is no marine layer here on the coast, the sun is shining, my head feels sane. I used this chance to again remind her, prayer works. Why is trusting in practice hard?
And the pumpkins and decorations are still intact this morning under the perfectly blue sky.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Christianese, Here?
Christian writers and most all of overly enthused Christians have been warned to watch our "Christianese" in talking to non-Christians. I've noticed that a radio station to which I occasionally listen has more of those religious, biblical phases.
I picked up listening to the Summit out of Akron,OH a few months ago after glancing a bumper sticker promising the "sound of New Orleans" on 90.7. It is easier at times to change radio stations while I'm driving around than fishing for CD's in the wallet. Plus I thought a new sound, with Mary Ellen so interested in the Disney movie, Princess and the Frog, of New Orleans would prove a change.
I'm not sure what radio station was advertised, maybe the car was a transplant because the format is a progressive rock station, a public radio station with no annoying commericials. I enjoy some of the songs, the ones that do not honor God, I quickly shut off.
I have noticed that there are many references to religious themes. Maybe not theologically correct, but Christianese is on these songs. "Roll Your Stone Away,"by Mumford and Sons, another group called Noah and the Whale, totally wrong person, but grabs your attention, now I hear heart of gold, and heavy load. What got me to thinking about this was, "cross to bear." I thought,"Wow, I'm hearing a lot of rededemption ideas, maybe more than even a Christian radio station."
Listening to this could make a person angry. I find myself instead praying for the "mixed up"Biblically challenged, instead enjoying the simplistic, clean format and a few memories, clever phrasing,and admiring the creativity.
I picked up listening to the Summit out of Akron,OH a few months ago after glancing a bumper sticker promising the "sound of New Orleans" on 90.7. It is easier at times to change radio stations while I'm driving around than fishing for CD's in the wallet. Plus I thought a new sound, with Mary Ellen so interested in the Disney movie, Princess and the Frog, of New Orleans would prove a change.
I'm not sure what radio station was advertised, maybe the car was a transplant because the format is a progressive rock station, a public radio station with no annoying commericials. I enjoy some of the songs, the ones that do not honor God, I quickly shut off.
I have noticed that there are many references to religious themes. Maybe not theologically correct, but Christianese is on these songs. "Roll Your Stone Away,"by Mumford and Sons, another group called Noah and the Whale, totally wrong person, but grabs your attention, now I hear heart of gold, and heavy load. What got me to thinking about this was, "cross to bear." I thought,"Wow, I'm hearing a lot of rededemption ideas, maybe more than even a Christian radio station."
Listening to this could make a person angry. I find myself instead praying for the "mixed up"Biblically challenged, instead enjoying the simplistic, clean format and a few memories, clever phrasing,and admiring the creativity.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Did You Hear?
Turning into Linden Pointe, cars every where, police flashing red, white and blue lights to direct the deluge of traffic. Rolling up the hill to find parking, not sure how to get to the dedication center. Various men and women in business suits, business casual, mostly a sea of gray and black with splashes of color hurrying to an area just past a building. Due to the clouding sky, with a past downpour that may show up again, we jump onto the shiny trolley with gleaming oak seats. The driver insisted we join, waving us in. I think the ride proved longer than the walk, but it was smooth, not sweat producing.
The trolley, quiet, takes us around the pristine building to the path to the wedding size white tent. Briskly up the clean cement way, observing all the dignitaries, lawyers and candidates for public office, shaking hands, placing emery boards into those hands. Voices mingle into a low buzz.
A table with name tags printed for the e-Center ceremony sits at the back. Place those name tags on our lapels, turn around to a sea of white folding chairs and several TV cameras. A woman is holding back, scouting out how to stay out of the range of the cameras.
We find seats, not worrying about camera coverage, and wait, covertly seeing who is in the tent. Many stand at the back, still conversing. A white haired man soon is at the podium instructing us to move in more, "Come up to the front." That is where the action is.
Yvonne English, with a black suit and polished hair, the executive director, welcomes us, again encouraging people to move in. She promises more time to mingle. Her voice is pitched with excitement. She has worked hard to see this day happen.
As I listen to the keynote speaker, Dr. Craig Columbus, I plan on going back to college for business. Tomorrow motivates a community. Energy sparkles with his words. New businesses motivate old businesses. I think how generations spur each other to greatness.
Gary Gula, city of Hermitage Assistant Manager, with his closing remarks creates hope for the future of our region. He looked back to the glory days, some of us remember, when this area produced for the world and excellently, the best in the world. Failure may have happened, but we're still here and with the impetus of new business, the region has the ingredients to excel again.
We move to the new building for Networking Social. Freshness, classiness, a blue fireplace, comfortable blue chairs, a sterling entrance greet us. Spirited conversations abound. Cameras with reporters spread throughout the hallways. Print reporters carrying notebooks stand back and observe. Crackling, combustible atmosphere holds promise.
Even the name of the street foretells what will come of this technology incubator- Innovation Way.
In the past, this area also held the future- as Chadderton's Airport. The flat area off RT. 18 intrigued me in our hilly region. The searchlights roaming the night sky in an arch thrilled me to watch. Imaging flying in one of those small airplanes. That showed prosperity.
Now this land with new buildings housing doctors, colleges and innovation with an eye to health and the environment again shines brightly from the Shenango Valley to the future.
The trolley, quiet, takes us around the pristine building to the path to the wedding size white tent. Briskly up the clean cement way, observing all the dignitaries, lawyers and candidates for public office, shaking hands, placing emery boards into those hands. Voices mingle into a low buzz.
A table with name tags printed for the e-Center ceremony sits at the back. Place those name tags on our lapels, turn around to a sea of white folding chairs and several TV cameras. A woman is holding back, scouting out how to stay out of the range of the cameras.
We find seats, not worrying about camera coverage, and wait, covertly seeing who is in the tent. Many stand at the back, still conversing. A white haired man soon is at the podium instructing us to move in more, "Come up to the front." That is where the action is.
Yvonne English, with a black suit and polished hair, the executive director, welcomes us, again encouraging people to move in. She promises more time to mingle. Her voice is pitched with excitement. She has worked hard to see this day happen.
As I listen to the keynote speaker, Dr. Craig Columbus, I plan on going back to college for business. Tomorrow motivates a community. Energy sparkles with his words. New businesses motivate old businesses. I think how generations spur each other to greatness.
Gary Gula, city of Hermitage Assistant Manager, with his closing remarks creates hope for the future of our region. He looked back to the glory days, some of us remember, when this area produced for the world and excellently, the best in the world. Failure may have happened, but we're still here and with the impetus of new business, the region has the ingredients to excel again.
We move to the new building for Networking Social. Freshness, classiness, a blue fireplace, comfortable blue chairs, a sterling entrance greet us. Spirited conversations abound. Cameras with reporters spread throughout the hallways. Print reporters carrying notebooks stand back and observe. Crackling, combustible atmosphere holds promise.
Even the name of the street foretells what will come of this technology incubator- Innovation Way.
In the past, this area also held the future- as Chadderton's Airport. The flat area off RT. 18 intrigued me in our hilly region. The searchlights roaming the night sky in an arch thrilled me to watch. Imaging flying in one of those small airplanes. That showed prosperity.
Now this land with new buildings housing doctors, colleges and innovation with an eye to health and the environment again shines brightly from the Shenango Valley to the future.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
On My New Lap Top
This morning I was thinking of the flashing cursor. We have a lot of flashing in our lives- the alarm, warning lights, someone tapping their fingers while they wait for a decision. But life doesn't stop while the flashing goes on, does it? Wouldn't that be interesting, if we could just wait to jump into life at times?
Just like this writing. That cursor can just flash, flash, while I think, make that decision, go to the bathroom, especially now I have my own lap top. We can't always wait though to live.
And how about that backspace? I don't like what I wrote, I can backspace before I save or publish. I really wish I could have a backspace for my mouth. Even with backspace, I write hurtful words or thoughts, make grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. Our backspace is only as efficient as our inner editor. At least we have a chance with backspace, huh?
Well, I am excited to have my new lap top. I walked in confidently to Best Buy to finally ascertain my next step in my writing journey. Now, I'm quiet in the corner of Panera across from the store to try out the keyboard and wireless. The ambiance of writing in the coffee house surrounds me and I like it!
Continue to pray for the Amish cult in southeast Ohio. I was told today that a journalist from New York interviewed the wife of a man whose beard was forceably cut. Then he ventured to the area where the spin off group is in a compound. He shared when he returned to talk to the wife, in all his travels, he had never encountered such an overbearing atmosphere of evil. My Amish friend comented on that with, "Well, if they worship the devil." Many of her friends and relatives are affected by this. Her husband is first cousin of the leader of this cult. It is a cult, like David Koresh in Waco or Jim Jones with his Kool-aid, with all the negativity of cults. Pray that the children get out, as all kinds of abuse is goig on.
As I stood on the farm enjoying the new pups, watching the newlyweds getting out of an old truck from their visit to calling hours, wondering where the chickens are for the future butchering, such peace on the surface. Yet, a man hung himself, his daughter was one of the servers at the wedding a few months ago, a daughter suffers from depression and the situation is better but still there with the rogue Amish cutting beards and women's hair, breaking into homes. Still chickens have to be butchered, eggs retrieved, momma dogs get some meat on their bones, meds given for the invalid in the home. Definitely, no flashing cursor in the country where it is a little slower, but not really.
Just like this writing. That cursor can just flash, flash, while I think, make that decision, go to the bathroom, especially now I have my own lap top. We can't always wait though to live.
And how about that backspace? I don't like what I wrote, I can backspace before I save or publish. I really wish I could have a backspace for my mouth. Even with backspace, I write hurtful words or thoughts, make grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. Our backspace is only as efficient as our inner editor. At least we have a chance with backspace, huh?
Well, I am excited to have my new lap top. I walked in confidently to Best Buy to finally ascertain my next step in my writing journey. Now, I'm quiet in the corner of Panera across from the store to try out the keyboard and wireless. The ambiance of writing in the coffee house surrounds me and I like it!
Continue to pray for the Amish cult in southeast Ohio. I was told today that a journalist from New York interviewed the wife of a man whose beard was forceably cut. Then he ventured to the area where the spin off group is in a compound. He shared when he returned to talk to the wife, in all his travels, he had never encountered such an overbearing atmosphere of evil. My Amish friend comented on that with, "Well, if they worship the devil." Many of her friends and relatives are affected by this. Her husband is first cousin of the leader of this cult. It is a cult, like David Koresh in Waco or Jim Jones with his Kool-aid, with all the negativity of cults. Pray that the children get out, as all kinds of abuse is goig on.
As I stood on the farm enjoying the new pups, watching the newlyweds getting out of an old truck from their visit to calling hours, wondering where the chickens are for the future butchering, such peace on the surface. Yet, a man hung himself, his daughter was one of the servers at the wedding a few months ago, a daughter suffers from depression and the situation is better but still there with the rogue Amish cutting beards and women's hair, breaking into homes. Still chickens have to be butchered, eggs retrieved, momma dogs get some meat on their bones, meds given for the invalid in the home. Definitely, no flashing cursor in the country where it is a little slower, but not really.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
To Post or Not To Post
The flashing cursor. I'm not sure what to write about. Behind in charting for work, hard to get motivated. I get my lap top tomorrow after the Geek Squad loads it up for me!
I'm getting excited for NaNoWriMo as I mentioned before. I find myself driving by Christina's house on St Rt OH 193. I think for the month of November I will write about her, the second in my storiesGables and Gingerbread, "Country" This will be a month with 1667 words a day. No time to edit. I think a bit like blogging, but not published immediately.
More imminent on my horizon is my trip to California with my youngest daughter to tour colleges, visit my sister, niece and her rambunctious children. I wonder at how fast it has come. When reservations were made I believe back in July, I could hardly imagine the dates. Now I'm on the door step, planning gifts, buying gifts,hair cuts, last minute items I need, soon laundry, packing,with a busy week in the evenings.
I've decided sleep in the evening will be my priority. Sorry, this is not my best posting. I just hadn't written for a while and feel the need to be "out there." I must admit I can't wait for the lap top. Now I'm trying to do this while Ratatoulle extra features and music wraps around my head. So I may remove this tomorrow. If you read this and then it is gone, I deem this not worthy in light of the day. Good night.
I'm getting excited for NaNoWriMo as I mentioned before. I find myself driving by Christina's house on St Rt OH 193. I think for the month of November I will write about her, the second in my storiesGables and Gingerbread, "Country" This will be a month with 1667 words a day. No time to edit. I think a bit like blogging, but not published immediately.
More imminent on my horizon is my trip to California with my youngest daughter to tour colleges, visit my sister, niece and her rambunctious children. I wonder at how fast it has come. When reservations were made I believe back in July, I could hardly imagine the dates. Now I'm on the door step, planning gifts, buying gifts,hair cuts, last minute items I need, soon laundry, packing,with a busy week in the evenings.
I've decided sleep in the evening will be my priority. Sorry, this is not my best posting. I just hadn't written for a while and feel the need to be "out there." I must admit I can't wait for the lap top. Now I'm trying to do this while Ratatoulle extra features and music wraps around my head. So I may remove this tomorrow. If you read this and then it is gone, I deem this not worthy in light of the day. Good night.
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