Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Teddy Law Tuesdays
Teddy's Law met a glitch when it seemed to attack home schooling families and they withdrew the proposal. I still support the idea behind the law, to save children from torture, abuse and as in Teddy's case, death. And I will continue to support the people behind the law, as I can see their hearts' intent.
I had an uneasy feeling when the law was introduced. Parents rights are important, too.
My observation that the government can be too involved in our lives leading to too many laws and regulations that impinge on our freedoms. My intent on writing about child abuse hinged then on the individual. My warning to step out and look around, leading us to be observant of situations. Even with that warning, prayer and discernment must rule our actions.
I still hold we cannot change our culture with laws, but with changing attitude and heart. As we make laws, that should slowly come about -yes, gridlock for that matter- we need to educate. Our founding fathers had that in mind, so laws would not come about quickly, but slowly and deliberately with thought. Passion is great to start the ball rolling, but cooler minds must see the future and consequences. The Teddy Law as first proposed may have made criminals of the wrong people.
Should people have reacted viciously as they did to a grieving father only trying to save others from the unbearable pain of losing a child when the system failed? No. We need to voice our opinion with civility and kindness. Proper channels should have been used. Name calling is never an intelligent response, nor can it bring about results.
I will continue on Tuesdays to speak up for the Teddy's that are still living. The children in abusive situations need an eye to see them. We need to be neighbors aware of wrongs in our towns. I pray for children to be rescued from situations that threaten their lives and well being.
I had an uneasy feeling when the law was introduced. Parents rights are important, too.
My observation that the government can be too involved in our lives leading to too many laws and regulations that impinge on our freedoms. My intent on writing about child abuse hinged then on the individual. My warning to step out and look around, leading us to be observant of situations. Even with that warning, prayer and discernment must rule our actions.
I still hold we cannot change our culture with laws, but with changing attitude and heart. As we make laws, that should slowly come about -yes, gridlock for that matter- we need to educate. Our founding fathers had that in mind, so laws would not come about quickly, but slowly and deliberately with thought. Passion is great to start the ball rolling, but cooler minds must see the future and consequences. The Teddy Law as first proposed may have made criminals of the wrong people.
Should people have reacted viciously as they did to a grieving father only trying to save others from the unbearable pain of losing a child when the system failed? No. We need to voice our opinion with civility and kindness. Proper channels should have been used. Name calling is never an intelligent response, nor can it bring about results.
I will continue on Tuesdays to speak up for the Teddy's that are still living. The children in abusive situations need an eye to see them. We need to be neighbors aware of wrongs in our towns. I pray for children to be rescued from situations that threaten their lives and well being.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Back Seat
Big plans took a back seat to the gut today. So I try again tomorrow. The air is extremely cold, but it is a minor set back. I look at the long range and by Sunday it is in the forties, again. January and life is like that with roller coaster ups and downs. I carry on. To tomorrow.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Required Goal Setting
Yesterday was about inspiration to dream. This is the new year and what is the new year without plans, definite goals? So I dreamed yesterday with the idea of plotting my writing garden, but what am I going to do in 2014? I have been thinking about that as well.
One is hire an editor for Main Street. That is in the works for this coming week. Two is talk to different design artists about the cover. I have an idea that I don't think is that outrageous, my vision as it were and I need to do some research. So for the month of January, I plan on self publishing this novel.
Day to day, I will continue to post on my blog most days. That is something I try to keep consistently. I also need to carve out time to definitely write on my novel I started in November, Last Free Exit. I hope to publish this by the deadline set up by NaNoWriMo winners circle for the freebies, unlike last year when I missed the deadline. I will say here, an hour, since I am mostly now rereading and revising a bit, I won't say a word count.
Then I must return to Country, the novel searching for a plot. I have it now, I think. More rides and time in Fowler, Ohio and surrounding flat land of Trumbull County to whet my imagination. I will strive to publish it by the end of the year.
Reading, as always will take a chunk of my time. I must read to sharpen my mind and skills. The important thing to me is to keep writing. I have to write every day, even if it is just e-mail to my friends.
Another sunny day in Western Pennsylvania lends itself to my planning. I don't mind the frigid cold because sunlight is abundant. I thought how if my books are made into movies, they would use Vancouver, as it is the new film mecca. I tend to think in the 1960's at times with stories. Yet, I am really glad to be living when I am. The typewriter and I had many fights. Thoughts could not flow as I made many mistakes on the keyboard. I am blessed to have my laptop.
Well on to implementing plans. Hurrah!
One is hire an editor for Main Street. That is in the works for this coming week. Two is talk to different design artists about the cover. I have an idea that I don't think is that outrageous, my vision as it were and I need to do some research. So for the month of January, I plan on self publishing this novel.
Day to day, I will continue to post on my blog most days. That is something I try to keep consistently. I also need to carve out time to definitely write on my novel I started in November, Last Free Exit. I hope to publish this by the deadline set up by NaNoWriMo winners circle for the freebies, unlike last year when I missed the deadline. I will say here, an hour, since I am mostly now rereading and revising a bit, I won't say a word count.
Then I must return to Country, the novel searching for a plot. I have it now, I think. More rides and time in Fowler, Ohio and surrounding flat land of Trumbull County to whet my imagination. I will strive to publish it by the end of the year.
Reading, as always will take a chunk of my time. I must read to sharpen my mind and skills. The important thing to me is to keep writing. I have to write every day, even if it is just e-mail to my friends.
Another sunny day in Western Pennsylvania lends itself to my planning. I don't mind the frigid cold because sunlight is abundant. I thought how if my books are made into movies, they would use Vancouver, as it is the new film mecca. I tend to think in the 1960's at times with stories. Yet, I am really glad to be living when I am. The typewriter and I had many fights. Thoughts could not flow as I made many mistakes on the keyboard. I am blessed to have my laptop.
Well on to implementing plans. Hurrah!
Friday, January 3, 2014
An Abundant Day of Inspiration
The day dawned bright and cold, not that I saw the dawn. As the light grew strong and I woke from a too late night again with settling down and reading, I convinced myself I was glad we were driving my oldest to an appointment in Mercer, our county seat. Cold didn't penetrate the SUV, the roads clear, no blowing snow, as predicted, and I pleasured in the scenery, thinking I wished I skied. One part of sixty two with steep hills brings to mind mountains in miniature.
My husband and I visited a bakery across from the courthouse for the first time. I think the girl waiting on us, as breakfast was over and too early for lunch, didn't care at all. No mean bone, but total indifference to our wondering how the bakery service occurred. I got coffee, my first for the day, seventy five cents for a medium paper cup. I thought how the second cup of coffee a day is better than the first. The cinnamon roll I ordered proved to be one of the best. The best was Mike's where I work that he shared with us all on Christmas Day. My lips still lick at the memory of that one. His wife is a very lucky lady. My mother-in-law is second, now, as hers are warm when I eat them. Mike's also were warm with that crusty sugar butter layered throughout.
I sipped my coffee, staring at the brown painted old wood floor. The small town feel of business filled the place, like New Wilmington or New England. I mused about a story I would love to write about "Stove Hounds," an old photograph posted on South Shore Facebook page featuring men hanging around a stove in a general store. What kind of stories could I write about small town?
We passed an antique store with a movie poster in the window for An Unremarkable Life. One of two movies filmed in the Shenango Valley in the late 1980's. In my short search, I can't find out what happened to Amin Q. Chaudhri or his company he endeavored to base in Sharon, Pennsylvania. Maybe Vancouver is better, for the old fashion feel of our Valley.
On our quest for lunch, I suggested two places that we found closed. At the second place, I had joy at being shown the inside of the remodeled barn on the Spring Valley golf course. The barn, built in 1872, housed the restaurant. We gazed out over the white blanket golf course, imagining the spring and summer when it would be opened. The owner talked of a nature trail they cultivated, handing me the place mat with the map.
I read it later and saw a Michner style novel from the outline of the trail. The ice age melt creating the bottomless bog begins the novel. The Native Americans burying grounds sets my mind in a second chapter with the next phase leading to the Donation plots and the settlers, like my seventh great grandfather, Edward Campbell, his wife Margaret and her brother, James Satterfield from Washington County, Pennsylvania. An old iron ore furnace shown on the map (the last one in the region) is the chapter on the beginnings of steel in our Valley with David Thompson seeing the promise, but dying too young and General James Pierce buying the farm from Mary, David's widow. General Pierce built on the industrialized dream in Sharpsville before Frank Buhl came to Sharon. His sixth great grandson became the president of the United States, George W. Bush. The president's grandfather grew up in Sharpsville before settling in Rye, New York, as owner of McCall's magazine. Did Barbara come here for summer vacations?
Like a gardener in winter plotting her land, I pour over all the possibilities of the stories. I'm looking at seed catalogs. I'm drawing diagrams. I see the flowers blooming. I have been writing this story since 2000 in my mind as it grows in imagination. I work toward the time again, I need to devote for the research that I commenced those many years ago when I poured over books in Mercer and Hermitage Historical Societies before I had to work full time. I plan many trips to this nature trail.
On my winter walk in the afternoon sun with no wind, I plan more. I think I could add the brief film making industry to this towering epic. I remember how Patrick Swayze, new on the heartthrob scene from North and South mini series, starred in another movie filmed in Sharon. He had been in a car accident, visiting the Farrell hospital emergency room just prior to when I started working there. The nurses still melting when I interviewed.
Tiger Warsaw opened in the Shenango Valley. We watched for all familiar places, hardly involved in the plot, listening to Y-103 in the background more than the dialogue. Mary McDonnell and Piper Laurie also acted in this. The painted window for the movie Sharon Police Department over a door on the Buhl Club remained for years. It fit the movie more than the actual police department in the modern building.
After my walk, I unwind with chai, reading Writing Past Dark, by Bonnie Friedman. I sleep a little on the couch under the pink golden sun. I wake encouraged to write of an abundant day of inspiration.
.
My husband and I visited a bakery across from the courthouse for the first time. I think the girl waiting on us, as breakfast was over and too early for lunch, didn't care at all. No mean bone, but total indifference to our wondering how the bakery service occurred. I got coffee, my first for the day, seventy five cents for a medium paper cup. I thought how the second cup of coffee a day is better than the first. The cinnamon roll I ordered proved to be one of the best. The best was Mike's where I work that he shared with us all on Christmas Day. My lips still lick at the memory of that one. His wife is a very lucky lady. My mother-in-law is second, now, as hers are warm when I eat them. Mike's also were warm with that crusty sugar butter layered throughout.
 |
| West Middlesex Airport |
We passed an antique store with a movie poster in the window for An Unremarkable Life. One of two movies filmed in the Shenango Valley in the late 1980's. In my short search, I can't find out what happened to Amin Q. Chaudhri or his company he endeavored to base in Sharon, Pennsylvania. Maybe Vancouver is better, for the old fashion feel of our Valley.
On our quest for lunch, I suggested two places that we found closed. At the second place, I had joy at being shown the inside of the remodeled barn on the Spring Valley golf course. The barn, built in 1872, housed the restaurant. We gazed out over the white blanket golf course, imagining the spring and summer when it would be opened. The owner talked of a nature trail they cultivated, handing me the place mat with the map.
I read it later and saw a Michner style novel from the outline of the trail. The ice age melt creating the bottomless bog begins the novel. The Native Americans burying grounds sets my mind in a second chapter with the next phase leading to the Donation plots and the settlers, like my seventh great grandfather, Edward Campbell, his wife Margaret and her brother, James Satterfield from Washington County, Pennsylvania. An old iron ore furnace shown on the map (the last one in the region) is the chapter on the beginnings of steel in our Valley with David Thompson seeing the promise, but dying too young and General James Pierce buying the farm from Mary, David's widow. General Pierce built on the industrialized dream in Sharpsville before Frank Buhl came to Sharon. His sixth great grandson became the president of the United States, George W. Bush. The president's grandfather grew up in Sharpsville before settling in Rye, New York, as owner of McCall's magazine. Did Barbara come here for summer vacations?
Like a gardener in winter plotting her land, I pour over all the possibilities of the stories. I'm looking at seed catalogs. I'm drawing diagrams. I see the flowers blooming. I have been writing this story since 2000 in my mind as it grows in imagination. I work toward the time again, I need to devote for the research that I commenced those many years ago when I poured over books in Mercer and Hermitage Historical Societies before I had to work full time. I plan many trips to this nature trail.
On my winter walk in the afternoon sun with no wind, I plan more. I think I could add the brief film making industry to this towering epic. I remember how Patrick Swayze, new on the heartthrob scene from North and South mini series, starred in another movie filmed in Sharon. He had been in a car accident, visiting the Farrell hospital emergency room just prior to when I started working there. The nurses still melting when I interviewed.
Tiger Warsaw opened in the Shenango Valley. We watched for all familiar places, hardly involved in the plot, listening to Y-103 in the background more than the dialogue. Mary McDonnell and Piper Laurie also acted in this. The painted window for the movie Sharon Police Department over a door on the Buhl Club remained for years. It fit the movie more than the actual police department in the modern building.
After my walk, I unwind with chai, reading Writing Past Dark, by Bonnie Friedman. I sleep a little on the couch under the pink golden sun. I wake encouraged to write of an abundant day of inspiration.
 |
| A Sharon Tiger |
.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Abundant Snow
Today, abundance seems to come in the form of snow in the eastern region of our country. The fine snow falls quickly. No wind yet driving it into one's eyes. I believe I heard that is coming tomorrow.
I am amazed at the abundance of cars on the road. I also marvel at how fast they go and how close many are to accidents. I shut down with snow and long to just sit here on my couch, watching the silent falling.
I am thankful that I don't have to drive in it, like the many years before. I would feel trapped in an endless field of white, watching the lights ahead of me, if I were in the city or freeway. I'd listen to the radio, but tense at the prospect of being hit from behind. One time, the traffic moved so slowly, I didn't realize my flowered green Volks Wagen wandered into a funeral procession on East Market Street in Warren, Ohio. I wondered not only how long it would take me to get home, but also would I ever make it home.
Today, I have an abundance of thanksgiving that I do not have to battle our northeast snow. My husband is home for the holiday, driving us to our local jobs. I joked when I took this job, that I could even walk there if the snow were bad. Yet, I still wish I could sit here on my couch watching the tiny flakes steadily fill the landscape.
I am amazed at the abundance of cars on the road. I also marvel at how fast they go and how close many are to accidents. I shut down with snow and long to just sit here on my couch, watching the silent falling.
I am thankful that I don't have to drive in it, like the many years before. I would feel trapped in an endless field of white, watching the lights ahead of me, if I were in the city or freeway. I'd listen to the radio, but tense at the prospect of being hit from behind. One time, the traffic moved so slowly, I didn't realize my flowered green Volks Wagen wandered into a funeral procession on East Market Street in Warren, Ohio. I wondered not only how long it would take me to get home, but also would I ever make it home.
Today, I have an abundance of thanksgiving that I do not have to battle our northeast snow. My husband is home for the holiday, driving us to our local jobs. I joked when I took this job, that I could even walk there if the snow were bad. Yet, I still wish I could sit here on my couch watching the tiny flakes steadily fill the landscape.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
My Picture for 2014
 | |
| Abundance |
I could not wait to post my picture of the year. I will be explaining this more in depth the next few days. I was thinking on my walks with the finer weather last month about my picture of the year. The word came softly to me- Abundance.
Yes, I answered, Abundance. I'm tired of living with a pauper spirit. Bible verses confirmed the word as I read. A dream of me as a wet nurse with more than ample milk sealed my word for the year. Now, to find the proper picture. I wanted it to be one I took. I feel this one speaks of the abundance of spring spilling over to summer. Those days that never seem to end when supple green plants reach their promise. Wall to wall blue of deep hue providing abundant sunshine keeps us active.
I look forward to abundance this year. I do not want to cry, "I don't have enough- sleep, time, patience, money, ability or forgiveness." I renounce the pauper spirit. If my God owns the cattle on a thousand hills and will supply all my needs according to His riches in glory, I think He will give me a side of beef (figuratively or maybe literally.)
After this word came into focus for 2014, I read these quotes:
Luke 12:15 Real life is not measured by how much we own.
From Beautiful Outlaw, "Sadly, for many people, the Christ they know is too religious to love, too distant to experience, and too rigid to be a source of life. It explains the abject poverty of the church."
John 10:10, I have come that you may have life and have it more abundantly.
From C.S. Lewis' Perelandra, "We have learned better than that, and know it more, for it is in waking that understands sleep and not sleep that understands waking," the Lord of Venus states.
In light of yesterday's post, I must say I need abundance in forgiveness most in these early hours. I anticipate a year different than many of the last years. I believe God is waiting to pour out His blessings on us all. Abundance of lush green and bumper crops, of growth and love waits on the threshold of 2014. Maybe as I wrote before, we have to let His love open the door.
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