Contest Winners, Mom Moments and the Eclipse

Good morning. Hope you are having a great week. We’re dealing with colds, so this post might be short and all over the place. So, to keep me on track, here’s what I plan to write about today.

1. Announcement of the winner’s of last week’s contest
2. A mom moment because my oldest is now 12 years old
3. A thought or 2 on yesterday’s solar eclipse

Congratulations to Lucy Reynolds and Carolyn Holtz, winners of the giveaway I did last week. It was great having Heather Day Gilbert here, and I know you ladies are going to enjoy “Miranda Warning”. Check your email, because we need your addresses to mail you the books. Thank you all for reading and commenting, and I hope you’ll stick around. :)

Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? One minute you’re busy changing diapers, and the next, you’re telling them not to wear such a low cut shirt. LOL Twelve! I’m stunned. Where has time gone? I remember holding her for the first time at a few minutes after 6 AM 12 years ago, and now, she’s going shopping with my Mom with money of her own in her purse. She helped decorate the cookies I made yesterday for our eclipse/birthday party, arranged the table and chairs outside for our guests, still sits on my lap and tells me she loves me, loves to decorate, loves to paint, sings so pretty when she thinks no one is listening and reminds me everyday what it’s like to be young. :)

Saw a post on Facebook a few minutes ago that disturbs me. It said something like, “God speaks profoundly through the signs of heaven.” I didn’t read it all, but what disturbs me is that no one mentioned God speaking through His Word, only signs in the heavens, signs they can see. Seems to me that Jesus had something to say about this in Matthew 16:4. “A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall be no sign given unto it, but the sign of the prophet Jonah. And he left them, and departed.” In order to understand the sign of the prophet Jonah, we have to look into the Old Testament, which, BTW is the Word.

Now, I’m not saying God doesn’t speak to us through the signs of the heavens. He can and does. After all, Psalm 19 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.” Therefore, we must take the eclipse yesterday for what it is—the glory and wisdom of God on display. He’s got the whole world (universe, galaxies, everything you see in the night sky) in His hands, and the best way to get to know what He is saying to us as a people and as individuals is to get into His Word. He will give us wisdom and understanding, if we simply ask Him.

So thankful for His healing power. I felt pretty rough when I began writing this. Feeling much better as I finish. If you enjoyed the interview last week and want more of them, drop me a comment and let me know. Love hearing from my readers. The birthday girl and the youngest aren’t doing school today, so I’m praying for inspiration to write on one of my works in progress. Here’s praying you have a fantabulous week. Catch you here next Tuesday.

Blessings.

End of Summer Post

**Heads up** The following post will be random and might not make much sense.

Organization and time management skills are essential for a homeschool mama who is also a writer. But, what does an author and a homeschool mama do if these skills do not com naturally? Pray and work hard. Yep, that’s it, and I should know, because here I had all summer to straighten and clean and get ready for the coming school year, and I’m just now…a week before school starts…straightening and cleaning and preparing. Can anyone say procrastination?

Yesterday, my own mama stopped by and tried to help me organize a cabinet. Trouble was, she wanted it organized to her standards. Her standards are fine for her, but as a blind person, when it comes to important stuff like cleaners that I want to use whether a sighted person is here or not, I need for them to be where I put them, not where someone else puts them.

And, speaking of my disability, I really get annoyed when people use a lot of emojis instead of actual words. My speech on my phone is great at announcing what those emojis are, but it gets real tiresome hearing the speech say over and over, “Clapping hands with light skin tone. Clapping hands with light skin tone. Clapping hands with light skin tone.” Deed.

Back to cleaning and straightening. The funniest part of today’s cleaning spree was seeing my 11-year old, my 9-year-old and my mama sitting in the living room floor playing barbies under the guise of sorting them. Ha! I love it.

I’m really afraid I’m going to have to take a reading day before school starts. Last night and today, I really wanted to turn on an audio book. Listening to a story with humor and awesome characters while keeping my hands busy with yarn and needles, now, that sounds like a plan. When to fit in the time, though?

So, next Tuesday, right here on the blog, I am interviewing a Christian author straight from WV. A few weeks ago, I downloaded the audio version of Heather Day Gilbert’s “Miranda Warning”, and fell in love with the characters. They reminded me of friends and family right here at home. I asked Heather if I could feature her, and she graciously agreed. We are also doing a giveaway. There are 2 softcover copies of “Miranda warning” waiting on 2 lucky people who leave a comment after reading the interview. Y’all won’t want to miss it, so mark your calendars. There is also a Facebook event, so come on over and check it out.

Here’s apologizing for not being more organized with this blog. I’m running around like a crazy mama who knows that come next Monday, I’ll be busy encouraging my girls and myself to get up earlier and hit the books. We need your prayers. I’ll be back next week with that interview, so catch ya’ll then.

Be blessed.

4th of July Miracle

I’m a day late, but if you will bare with me, faithful readers, I have a story to tell. It’s a story of family togetherness, improvisation and simple blessings. Read on, because today I’m talking about 4th of July miracles.

Once upon a time, there was a mom who was blind who felt sad that she could not drive her daughters to see the 4th of July fireworks. Knowing from previous experience, sighted drivers are few and far between, she prayed for help from the Lord.

Around 9:45 pm on July 2, she was in her daughters’ bedroom hearing their prayers and hugging and kissing them goodnight, when there came a pop from outside. “Was that fireworks?” She asked.

“Yes,” her daughters said, glancing out their bedroom window into the backyard.

“Let’s go out and watch,” said Mom.

So, there on the steps to the back porch, Mom and girls sat. The girls kept their faces turned toward the night sky, ooing and awing over each burst of color. “I can feel it in my chest,” the oldest said.

“I want to sneak and watch the neighbors,” the youngest said.

For fifteen minutes, laughter bubbled up, and a closeness, warm and peaceful settled over the backyard, as each firework lit up the dark sky, outlining the steeple of the church one street over. When the display ended and Mom and girls were walking back inside, the girls exclaimed over the fireworks that they had been able to watch for free and without any of the crowds found in the city. Mom rejoiced over the simple, straight forward way that God had answered her prayer.

Two nights later on the 4th, Mom was once again telling her daughters goodnight, when that all-to-familiar popping was heard again. Out the door they went, Mom’s ears pricked and girls eyes wide open. After a few minutes, the youngest got bored and went back inside, but the oldest girl stayed outside, describing each firework to her mom who could not see. Thirty minutes later, the night around them quieted, and both Mom and daughter joined the youngest inside where they hugged, kissed and said their prayers. Another night of firework watching was behind them that did not include searching for a driver nor dealing with crowds. God had answered twice. I suppose you could call it a double blessing, a 4th of July miracle.

When I was growing up, several elderly folks tried to discourage me from getting my hopes up about marriage and children. How could I change a diaper? How would I manage if my house caught on fire? How would I know what my children needed? What would I do about going places? These were questions that haunted me at first, but they also fueled my determination to prove them all wrong. I could get married and have children, and I could do it as well as anybody else.

I don’t know who was putting off the big fireworks over the weekend, but I hope they know how thankful I am for them. Those fireworks went off practically over my backyard; my girls saw them with no difficulty. I had been feeling a little down that I didn’t have a ride to the fireworks displays in the area. However, nothing could have been better than the ones my girls and I were part of both Sunday and Tuesday nights. We laughed and teased each other, sat close together on my back steps and just enjoyed our time together. Money can’t buy that kind of happiness. After all, it isn’t the quantity of time, money or material things that is important, it is the quality of time, the realization that money isn’t important and the absence of material things that puts us in a position to hear from our Creator. Remember that the next time this world and its cares start to choke out your relationship with your heavenly Father.

So, what did you think of the story? Would love to hear from you, and be sure to follow the blog. Lots of exciting things coming up.

Until next time, be safe, remember to smile and hold your love ones a little tighter.

Blessings.

Advice From Master Yoda

Disclaimer: The quotes in this post may not be completely accurate.

I had a rough day. Stressed because I’m always stressed when the teacher reviews my girls’ homeschool portfolios, I did not sleep well last night. Nervous, I couldn’t eat much except a peanut butter and jelly sandwich this morning. We were getting the books put into the waiting bag, when my oldest spills water on her science notebook, pretty much ruining it. Then, I cut my finger on the end of my mandolin string while hurrying to put it back in its case. Wrapping a bandaid around it, I hurried to grab my bags, when my aunt says, “Aren’t you going to change your shirt?” It is certain I would have walked right out that door with a stained up shirt, if she had not stopped me. The first book the teacher opens shows correct answers but no proof that those answers were not obtained by cheating. My youngest was put on the spot, something that freezes her up. All was cleared up, yet, I knew, somehow, I had failed. Afterward, I thought to buy milkshakes to celebrate finishing the school year. But, since I didn’t buy what my oldest wanted from the place she wanted it from, she wouldn’t take anything from anyone or from anywhere. Once again, I failed. We came home and began clearing out the cabinet where I keep school supplies, only to realize we can’t find the book I purchased a month ago. Failed, again. I despaired that this day would ever be redeemed.

During supper and subsequent dish washing, Star Wars played on the TV. I prayed, kept reminding myself it would all be OK, and sat down with a second glass of sweet tea. Then, I turned my attention to the current movie and found some encouragement.

I am not an avid fan, and I don’t have the script memorized, but what I heard was this…if I remember correctly.

Luke Skywalker says, “Well, I’ll try.”

Yoda replies, “No. Do. There is no try.”

A conversation takes place where Luke says it’s too big of a job, and Yoda says something about size having nothing to do with it. Then, Yoda raises the spaceship out of the water. I know this, because I asked my husband what happened. LOL Anyway, at the end, Luke says, “I can’t believe it.” Whereupon Yoda replies, “That is why you fail.”

Suddenly, it hit me. Exactly who is living in me, seeing as how I call myself a Christian? If the force within me is the Lord Jesus Christ, who, BTW has no dark side, then why am I calling myself a failure? I had just been telling myself during dish washing that I would try to do better next year. But, according to Master Yoda, “There is no try.” And, the reason I fail is because of unbelief.

I will not try to do better next time. I will do better, because I know how to fix this year’s mistakes. I will not fail, because I am not trying to make my kids perfect students. I will succeed, because I am teaching them how to be lifelong learners. Besides, the Lord didn’t tell me to make my children happy or make them smart or even make them good at a particular subject. Nope. He told me to teach them. He told me to present the gospel to them. He told me to love them. As long as I do that, I am a success.

On this day twenty years ago, I donned a cap and gown and walked across a stage to receive my high school diploma. I was salutatorian, which is a fancy way of saying my grade point average was the second highest in my class. I had to give a speech, I remember, and it’s topic was success. Yeah, like I knew anything at eighteen, but still… LOL I can’t help but look back over the years and wonder at how far I’ve come. Part of me wants to smack that girl up side the head for being so arrogant. Then, I turn around, look at my own two girls and think, “Wow, how can I be the best mom to them?” Once again, Master Yoda’s words come back to me. “There is no try.” So, here’s to Yoda, my merciful heavenly Father and a good batch of homemade pizza cooked by my amazing husband. I’m going to be all right.

Tomorrow, I’m going to pick up that mandolin and work on those tremolos. I’m going to work on the fiction story I started a few months ago and the nonfiction story I started a few weeks ago. I’m going to love my family, come up with an inexpensive way to have a good supper when my man comes home, and I’m going to work on the blog post for my other blog. BTW, if you want to read it, you can find it at adkinsandwells.blogspot.com.

So, until next time, keep on keeping on, and when life gets tough, eat some pizza and watch a Star Wars movie. :)

Happy Mother's Day

_{Happy Mother’s Day to all moms out there! So glad you could join me. Today, I have a gift just for you, faithful readers. Excerpts. Yep, you heard me. Free excerpts of my books, all of them focusing on moms and mothering.}

_{The three ladies you are about to meet are as different as night and day, yet they have one thing in common; all of them take on the care of someone in need of a mother. Maggie Scott is a mom and an aunt. Dr. Faith Valentine takes on the responsibility of ten orphaned children who live next door. Lady Ann MacQueen Davidson is a widow living in her brother’s home with her teenager son. Now that I think of it, these ladies have something else in common; all are believers. Oh, and one more thing, all are fictional. They weren’t created with anyone special in mind, but as I read over these excerpts, I can’t help but remember what my life was like while I wrote about them and see characteristics of folks I either know or once knew.}

_{Living several miles away from her 18-year-old daughter, Maggie Scott from "Wild Heart"} is a seamstress. In the scene you are about to read, her nephew and former neighbor have just arrived unexpectedly in the night. Maggie first came West on the California trail back in 1850. In the 1860’s, she moved with her husband and daughter to Wyoming to ranch. Now, she is living in New Mexico near her ailing brother. She loves to feed people, and she makes no secret about being a matchmaker. She rather puts me in mind of my Papaw’s sister who insisted on feeding you every time you came to her house. Come with me to Maggie’s cozy kitchen.

Maggie reached into her cupboard and retrieved three mugs.  After pouring the coffee, she placed the hot mugs before her guests, and then began to slice the cinnamon cake.  When everyone was served, including herself, she sat down and asked, "So, what brings the two of you to Silver City?”

She watched with curiosity as the young people at her table looked at one another.  Shewana opened her mouth to reply, but Gage beat her to it.

"We were just passing through on our way to Cheyenne," he said.

Maggie gave him a look that said more plainly than words, "Sure you are.”

Gage met her gaze and tried to tell her with his eyes to let it alone, but apparently she either didn't understand, or she didn't care.

"Going to Cheyenne?" she asked.  "Well, that's nice.  Shewana, your brother's up there, isn't he?  Well, so if you're going to Cheyenne, where are you coming from?”

"Coming from?" Gage asked, not sure he understood her question.

"Yes, coming from," Maggie reiterated.  "Where did you two meet up?  In Texas?"  Then, as a thought struck her, she asked, incredulously, "You two aren't married, are you?”

Shewana choked on her bite of cake, and Gage's eyes grew wide.  Maggie enjoyed watching them, even though she knew it wasn't really all that funny.

After a silence that seemed to go on forever, Shewana managed, "Married?  Uh, no, Maggie, we are most definitely not married.  Whatever gave you that idea?”

"Well," Maggie said, "I've never seen the two of you together.  In fact, I didn't even know the two of you knew one another.  I just…”

"It’s ok, Maggie," said Gage, rising to his feet.  "Shewana's right.  We're not married; we're just traveling together.  I'm going to carry our bags upstairs.  I'll be back in a minute.”

Hurriedly standing to her feet, Shewana said, embarrassed, "I think I'll go up with you.  I'm sort of tired.  Thanks for the coffee and cake, Maggie.  I hope you will excuse me turning in so early.”

Knowing that there was more here than what met the eye, Maggie decided to wait until she had Gage alone to press further.  Aloud, she said, "No problem, Honey.  You sleep as long as you like.”

Faith Valentine from "To Tame A Heart" is a physician in a town where no one has ever heard of a woman doctor. The orphans who are her neighbors keep her hopping, but she wouldn’t trade them for a moment. If she could, she’d take them all in as her own. While I am eternally grateful the Lord only blessed me with two children, Faith’s busyness of always cleaning up after sick folks puts me in mind of myself when my girls were small. LOL Seems like I was always wiping up messes on the floor, changing diapers and walking the floors at night. Let’s go see what Faith and the children are into now.

When the door was opened, she stared in puzzlement at the four smallest children from the orphanage: Megan, Blake, Tracey and Kierstin.

"Good morning," she greeted.  "Is there something wrong?"

Why are they looking so serious?

Pulling her thumb out of her mouth with an audible pop, little Kierstin said, "There's a big fight down by the jail and Candace says you need to come."

"At this hour?" she asked, incredulous.  "But, who…  Why me?"

"Cause somebody beat Colbey up," the child answered before replacing her thumb in its customary place.

"Oh for pity sake!" Faith exclaimed, before slamming her door, lifting her skirts and running with the children toward the jail.

What kind of trouble has that boy caused this time?

Reaching the middle of town, all Faith could see was a crowd of people.  They were standing around something or someone, but she could not see over them, not at first.

"Let me through," she commanded, shoving shoulders aside.

The people moved apart, allowing her amidst them.

There was indeed a big fight, or rather, there had been.  Now all she saw were bloody faces and a motley group of boys and girls standing around a single figure who lay silent in the mud.

Kneeling at his side, Faith touched a finger to Colbey's neck and was glad to feel a strong, if rapid, heartbeat.  He looked awful, blood and bruises all over his face and his clothes all torn and muddy. But, he was alive.

Glancing up, she met Ruby's green eyes and commanded, "Go get me some water, Ruby.  Candace," she said to the teenager whose face was tear-streaked, go get my bag for me."

The children were not long in obeying; they knew her well and knew she meant for them to hurry.

"Colbey!" Faith called kindly, wiping away the dirt and blood from his face, "Colbey, wake up.  Come on, Son, open your eyes and talk to me."

Then, as Candace handed her the bag, she grabbed up a bottle of ammonia.  She uncorked it, passed it beneath her patient's nose and called out, "Colbey!  Come on, Colbey!"

Suddenly, his eyes flew open and he tried to sit up.

"Careful, there," she said, steadying him with a hand to his shoulder.

He turned his head and tried to meet her gaze, but his eyes were swelling shut fast.

Colbey," she began, gently, taking his hand, "Colbey, do you think you can stand up?"

He nodded, so she and Candace helping, he managed to get to his feet.  They steadied him and, glancing around at the staring faces, Faith asked, "Is anyone else injured?"

No one answered.  They just stood there like knot heads and stared wide-eyed at her.

"What?" she asked in exasperation.

"Ain't you even going to go in and check on your husband?" a male voice asked from somewhere in the crowd.

Her husband?

Glancing around, she looked for Deric, but did not see him.  Then, her eyes were drawn to the barred window near the corner of the jailhouse.  And there, looking out upon the scene in the street with troubled eyes was Deric Christy.  He was unshaven and still wearing the clothes he had worn the day before.  When their eyes met, she felt her face burn with shame and not a little anger.

"Uh, Miss…  Uh, Doctor, if you'd like, I'll help you get this young man home.  We can talk then.”

Lady Ann from "A Moment in Time" has lost her husband, and now her son is critically injured. The woman she is trusting to care for her only son has strange ways about her, but since her brother trusts this new person in their midst, Lady Ann must trust as well. I tried to think of someone who reminds me of her, but she is original, unlike anyone I know.  Come with me back to 15th century Scotland where Lady Ann’s son is being cared for by a 21st century American.

Even before my fingers touched the young man’s brow, I knew we were in trouble. I bit down on my bottom lip and ordered my face not to show any emotion.

"Mayhap he is in need of more of your wee rocks?”

The trembling voice of Lady Ann from somewhere behind me penetrated through the fear choking me and I turned to her.

She looked like she was about to cry. Twisting a handkerchief between shaking hands, her blue eyes implored me to do something.

"My lady," I said, having no idea how I managed to sound so calm and respectful, "If you could reach my hand bag over here, I’ll have your son resting quietly in no time.”

"Aye, Annie, get Mistress Bronwen her things.”

I flashed Himself a grateful glance, then turned back to the bed.

When Lady Ann handed me my bag, I tried to talk her and her brother in to leaving me to my work, but the expression in the laird’s eyes told me he knew there was reason for concern. Geordy’s mother and uncle were going nowhere.

I knew what I would find when I unwrapped the bandages, and I was right; the wounds were swollen, warm to the touch and reddened. One of the gashes was beginning to ooze yellow pus. Not taking my eyes from the affected area, I reached a hand toward my bag. This young man was going to need that codeine in order to make it through the coming ordeal.

Instead of the well-worn denim of my shoulder strap, however, my hand was grasped and a bottle placed in my palm. I glanced up only to see Colin’s somber face. He wrapped my fingers around the plastic bottle of pills and pushed it toward me.

"Nephew," he said, voice full of tenderness, "ye need to swallow more rocks, and Mistress Bronwen needs to fix up your wounds.”

"Aye, uncle, I know," came the whispered reply from the bed.

"It’s going to hurt, laddy.”

"Aye, well, she better get to it before I lose my courage.”

The difficulty was not the task of washing the wounds with whisky. No, that was the easy part. The difficult part was seeing Geordy’s pain. The codeine hadn’t had time to start working on his system, and, braw lad that he was, he had still needed his uncle to hold him down during the worst parts. Honestly, I don’t know who cried more, Lady Ann or me. By the time I had spread a thick layer of antibiotic cream on the wounds and wrapped clean bandages around them, all four of us were damp with perspiration and dragging with fatigue.

I slumped on to a stool and leaned my back against the stone wall, closing my eyes.

"Will... Will Geordy be all right?”

Clutching the shoulder strap of my bag, I wanted so much to lie to Lady Ann, but I couldn’t.

Opening my eyes, I met her gaze head on.

"Only time will tell," I said, then shut my eyes against her pain.

The sound of pouring liquid came to my ears and then Colin’s voice.

"Take a drink, Annie.”

"I dinna want it," she said.

"I dinna care what ye want. Drink it. Ye are no help to anyone if ye dinna take care of yourself.”

She must have obeyed, because the next time I heard him speak, his tone was more gentle.

I looked, and the MacQueen was lowering his sister to the pallet I had slept in the night before. He touched her cheek, told her to rest, then stepped away and faced me.

Any woman can be a mother, but it takes a real woman to be a real mom. I think it’s rather funny, sometimes when I look back at my own childhood. As a youngster, I thought my mom had it figured out. Then, I became a teenager and Mom didn’t know a thing. Now that I have girls of my own, I realize, we all have one thing in common; we are all just trying to do our best and figure it out as we go. A newborn will teach you that you don’t know anything. A busy toddler will teach you what it means to be alert. A preteen will teach you that only God can convict your child and know what and who they are talking to when you aren’t around. My oldest will be twelve in August, so I’m sure there’s more learning up around the bend, but for now, I gotta go on what I know. Only way I know to do that with any peace is to put my trust in the one who created us. He is ever faithful, and it is His will that my girls trust in Him.

I hope you have enjoyed this post, and i pray you’ll make Jesus the Lord of your life. Be sure and join me each Tuesday. I don’t always know what I’m going to say, but I post something each week. Take care, be blessed and hug your mama, if she is still living. If she isn’t, here’s a big ole hug from me. XX

Pondering A Story: Creativity

What feeds your creativity? Or, rather, what do you do to get into a creative frame of mind? Welcome to the blog and today’s post, where, once again I slip into avoiding talking about my manuscript. LOL

I have been talking these last few weeks about how to begin a story. If you have been with me this whole time, you’ll remember I said this planning it out is new to me. Thus, using Randy Ingermanson’s Ten steps of design found on his website www.advancedfictionwriting.com is taking me longer than I thought it would. Six weeks into it, and I’m still revising steps 4 and 5. Good news is I’m actually writing real scenes, now. But, I can no longer share on here, because I have deviated so much from Ingermanson’s Snowflake Method that I can no longer call it his. Let me explain.

Step 5 is when I’m supposed to write a character synopsis for each major character. This basically means, write the story from each main character’s point of view. He suggests one page for each main character and about a half a page for each minor one. Yeah, well, Mercy’s was 6 pages and Gabriel’s was 5. You can see they are quite gabby. I set down and over a couple of weeks, wrote these out. Then, I looked at them and realized they didn’t match up. Also, when I started to expand them into scenes, the characters had different things to say.

Step 6 says to take that one page synopsis and expand to a 4 page one. I’m thinking, “Yeah, I think I need help.”

Step 7 says to expand your info about your characters into full-fledged charts on them. Um, yeah, cause I’m not there yet.

Step 8 is make a list of scenes. Ingermanson suggests using a spread sheet. Step 9 is expanding the spread sheet. Step 10 is actually beginning to write the first draft. Again, I’m way behind. Or, am I?

I’m a mom who homeschools. As such, when my girls or I get sick, just about everything stops. If we are well, we’re schooling during the day. Last week, we all got sick. Needless to say, my energy lagged. I’m not so sure I’ve found it, even now. So what can I do to get my creativity up and moving again?

Prayer. Bible reading. Finding another way to express myself creatively. I listen and play music. Then, I read more Bible and pray some more. For the first time in a week, I was able to truly write this morning. And, that’s what it’s all about. When the Lord gives it to me, I’ll write. When He doesn’t, I won’t. So, while I’ll be going back to Ingermanson’s Snowflake Method, I won’t be religious about it, because some rules are meant to be put aside for the time being.

A friend once told me that she wanted her daughter to learn to play a musical instrument by ear before taking lessons. Once her daughter could play the instrument by ear, she learned to read the music. I think writing can be that way, as well. Have fun with it. Write to see what works and what doesn’t. Then, pull out the rules and work with them. Once it loses it’s fun, put it away for a while. And remember, above all, true inspiration can only come from the one who created you.

So, this post is my last in the “Pondering A Story” series. Feel free to try Randy Ingermanson’s method, and let me know how it works for you. I’ll continue working on steps 4 and 5 until I’m ready for the rest. In the meantime, I need to push my girls and myself to “get on the ball” as my mama used to say. Summer’s coming, and there’s a lot to be doing before school is out in June. :)

Thanks for being with me today. I look forward to hearing from you. Enjoy the pretty weather while you can, and remember the one who made you.

Be blessed.

Barbies, Cartoons and Mad Libs, oh my! Oh, yeah, and a book.

I was a child of the 80’s. Thus, Saturday mornings found me and my sister crowding in front of our TV, sneaking our hands into the bag of powder sugar donuts and watching cartoons. One we always watched together was Jem and the Holograms. On one particular episode…I can’t remember which one…Jem’s boyfriend, Rio shouts to another man, “Que pasa, Louis!”

My sister and I thought this sounded so funny, as we were not used to hearing people speak Spanish, and for days afterward we would shout right out of the blue, “Que pasa, Louis!”

What could this have to do with homeschool, writing, books or any of the other things on this blog? Well…ahem, probably nothing. Except, when I remembered I hadn’t talked about my writing, lately, I remembered hearing that while watching Jem.

Speaking of watching TV with my sister, I also remember taking turns. If I would watch He Man with her, she would watch one of my favorite’s with me. There was no such thing as more than one TV in the house. We shared it. The best part was if one of us didn’t like the cartoon on at the time, we could still enjoy the confections from the donut bag.

Again, what does this have to do with anything? Answer: I don’t know yet.

When TV got boring, my sister and I would either go outside to play in the yard or pull out all our barbies. And, lemme tell y’all, we had barbies. Lots of them. Nurse Barbie, astronaut Barbie, Barbie of Barbie and the Rockers, lots of Ken dolls who always lost their shorts, and let’s not forget the Jem and the Hologram dolls. We had a barbie waterbed, barbie mansion, barbie cars barbie clothes galore and imaginations that kept us busy for hours. As we grew older, our friends would come over and play barbies with us. I remember staying up all night during a sleep over, because we were still playing barbies.

Today, when my youngest asks me to play pretend with her Shopkins or My Little Pony, she always wants me to start the game. She doesn’t like to play with her sister, because she says I have a better imagination. I can’t help but think that it all stems from those days of playing pretend with my own sister. Comes in handy when I need ideas for my stories, too.

Finally, I got to the topic of this blog. Or, have I?

One of the things my children and I love to do is Mad Libs. It teaches those essential language arts skills, builds vocabulary, stretches imaginations and provides afternoons filled with laughter. The other day, we put the books away and did Mad Libs almost all afternoon. One of them stuck with me, as it was just that funny.

“Part of the body, Mom,” my daughter said.

“Lip,” I replied.

“Okay, Sis, now a noun.”

“Cat,” my other daughter said.

When it was all said and done, the sentence read like this: “The prince took her by the lip and said, ‘May I have this cat?’”

Another Mad Lib, which was a shortened version of The Night Before Christmas, had St. Faith instead of St. Nick, ‘up the chimney he fell’, and…my favorite…1,229 tiny unicorns, instead of 8 tiny reindeer.

I suppose my point to all this, is a love of words and an active imagination are necessary when writing fiction. They also help get me through some tough days as a stay-at-home mom who homeschools her children.

So, as February comes to a close, get your barbies out. Then, grab a bag of Donuts and a video of Jem and the Holograms, and let your imagination run wild. After that, find someone to do Mad Libs with, because it’s no fun doing them alone. Smile often, but laugh even more, and be sure to check out my friend’s new book, “A Brother’s Love” now available on Amazon.

When Cody finds out his brother, Joey is going to be sent away to a camp for blind kids, he does everything in his power to stop it. Then, he realizes his brother is going to be okay without him, and that it’s okay to learn new things.

This book is funny and teaches a lesson at the same time. There is nothing quite like a brother's love, and Anita's book is one you won't want to miss.

And God Said...

Remember the account of creation in Genesis? “In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth,” verse 1 says. Verses 2 and 3 go on to say, “And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.”

If you keep on reading that chapter, you will find that God said a lot of things. He spoke light into existence, He spoke and dry land appeared. He spoke and the water brought forth living creatures after its kind, and so on.

Why do I bring this up? Do I not know that many disagree? I bring it up, because it reminds me, I do have something to blog about. I do have something to say.

Ever had one of those days? Y’all know I homeschool. Well, today was one of those days. Struggled to get the girls out of bed, struggled to get them to get finished with breakfast and brush their teeth. Swam upstream just to get them to pay attention during Bible reading. Threatened to keep their electronics unless they worked to complete the math assignment. No, I wouldn’t let them do language arts in their dad’s recliner. Yes, handwriting matters. Yes, you have to take a shower, whether you go to youth tonight or not. Talk about an uphill battle. With all that going on, plus writing on my book and obsessing over how my document looks, I kept thinking, “What on earth do I have to blog about? I might be passionate about writing, reading and homeschooling, but I felt empty. How can I entertain or inspire you, when I need inspired?

Then, the Lord reminded me how He spoke and light was created. Reading His word speaks life into me. All I need to do is be a vessel He can work through.

My children managed to get themselves ready for youth this evening. The laundry is all done and put away. The 11-year-old washed the dishes without complaining. The school day is over, and we manage to keep from yelling at one another. The man of the house came home early from work and said he would cook the dinner. To all this I have only one thing to say: “The Lord is good. His mercy endureth for ever and ever through all generations. So, I will stand up and sing praise hallelujah, for I know the Lord is good.”

Okay, so it was more than one thing, but this day was successful, because He spoke life into it. Miracles still happen, and I am living proof.

Next time you start thinking you have nothing you could possibly give, remember how the first day of creation began. God said, “Let there be light.” And, there was light. Amen?

Did you know I am on Facebook? Yep. Come on over to facebook.com/sjwellsauthor and like my page.

God bless, and be sure to come back, as I try and post once a week. See you next time. Same bat time, same bat channel. LOL