Page 2 of 3

Feeding Disorder

I had to pick up a small dead bird today–it had taken seed from the feeder on my porch, turned and slammed into my front window. It’s happened a few times, even though I no longer keep that window squeaky clean, put out decals to help the birds to see. Still, did my “feeding disorder” do more harm than good?

My husband came up with the name for my disorder–the urge to over-feed people at gatherings, my fear of running out of food (not for myself, but not serving enough to others), my urge to over-feed him, to feed squirrels & racoons & birds.

One summer we discovered we’d developed an eco-system in our back yard. The bird feeder attracted pigeons. The pigeons attracted hawks and owls. The hawks and owls attracted coyotes and foxes. And, on it goes.

I’ve dialed back slightly, putting out bird feeders and hummingbird feeders only when it’s too cold for birds to find food easily, putting any squirrel food far from the house, and hopefully feeding myself and my husband only what we need.

Another way to use a feeding disorder–Food Bank of the Rockies & No Kid Hungry.

How Productive Should I Be?

No longer young (that ship has sailed), retired, semi-retired–how productive should I be? Do I feel I’ve done all I’ve come to this life to do? I have many blessings (I consider my children –2 daughters & grandchildren to be the most important successes of my life), but many of us wonder if we’ve done enough in this life.

I see young people now starting successful businesses at very young ages (under 18, for instance), getting ahead and successful with no college at all (while I thought my only way to success was college). I see young women becoming doctors, surgeons, politicians–when all this didn’t seem possible when I was young.

We’ve entered an exciting and scary new world (at least in America) where young people truly can have it all, do it all. I still believe in the power of education, especially self-education, & I am conversely afraid of the dark corners of the internet, where lies & fables exist to take our young people off-course.

I do think balance is key–I can be productive & still enjoy retirement. I can be proud of my grandchildren, happy for them, hopeful for them–and still worry about their future.

I’m going to be productive now.

Reading “Outside the Box”

I never thought I’d read a novel about Chess, a game I know nothing about, and a game I most likely will never play.

I was encouraged to watch “The Queen’s Gambit” and then did so reluctantly, expecting to hate it. Instead, I watched the entire series in three days and then ordered the book.

It turns out, the book is about Chess, but more importantly about life; the twists and turns, the calculated and accidental moves, winning and losing, and human instincts.

Nothing like an unexpected book or movie to make me ponder life and its experiences. And, my choices.

Back to Work

It’s hard to get back to work–and back to a routine–after a “break in the action.” Between COVID (haven’t gotten it and hope not to) disruptions, caring for a dying aunt, and just plain giving in to movie and series binging and binge-reading (not to mention binge-eating), I’ve fallen off my routine. I suspect many of us have.

So, I’m rebooting and getting back to work deciding what to write next and exactly how to get back into a routine. I have faith that the country and the world will normalize and soon we’ll all be back to work and healed. That’s the optimist in me.

In the meantime I’m thankful (as this is published directly after Thanksgiving) for a supportive husband and family, my house, my many blessings, my health, and whatever the future may bring.

Unexpected Inconveniences of Quarantine

As a self-professed introvert, I have to confess a satisfaction at being forced to stay inside, to bake cookies, to read endless books, to watch endless shows such as NCIS & Hallmark Murder Mysteries & movies that I missed in the theater. Some things are not so fun; wondering when and if it will end, worrying about things we didn’t worry about before (no masks available, toilet paper hoarding, many more meals at home instead of eaten out, worry about young people, old people too).

As a writer, I should revel in the extra time but it seems to be eaten up with “little things” (more house-cleaning, more dishes, more time taken to find groceries, extra care taken to get to doctor appointments).

The worst thing though is the thought that I might be wasting this precious time that has caused us all to slow down our frenetic lifestyles. Am I using it to my advantage, or am I frittering it away on old television shows, on books that might not be teaching me anything?

Food for thought. I’m going to make popcorn now.

Year of COVID-19 August

2020 is flying by, sometimes dancing and spinning with activity, sometimes napping and walking slowing, trudging along.

We went on what we call our Hole-In-The-Ground-Tour starting in Colorado, which is decidedly not a hole, but a valley to the east of the Rockies, drove to Durango, Colorado, then to Mesa Verde and the Grand Canyon.

Durango is an “old west” town, the kind I love to visit. When I was young I remember asking my dad why we couldn’t live in the “west.” I meant the old west of television shows like Rawhide and Wagon Train (okay–I had a childish crush on Clint Eastwood). Dad laughed, but never explained that I DID live in the west–just a different one than the one that lived in my imagination. Durango lives up to all those images–old wooden buildings mixed in with new restaurants and buildings; old shops and new; every opportunity to hike and river raft (if you like).

From Durango, we drove to Mesa Verde to marvel in relative isolation (not many people there and you can’t walk into the ancient builds right now) to marvel at the remarkable houses chiseled out of the red rock, hanging precariously as if ornaments on a tree. You have to wonder while there, who were they really? What did they look like? Why did they so suddenly leave?

We drove to Grand Canyon and stayed at the El Tovar hotel on the South Rim. Breathtaking and miraculous–the most natural Disney World of American, I like to call it. Condors flying overhead looking for roadkill. Hummingbirds slurping the last of the nectar out of desert flowers. Deer and Elk sauntering onto the lawn of the El Tovar because there are few humans out. A few guests rocking on the front porch, tugging at medical masks that cover their smiles.

We drove quickly through New Mexico, the vast and seemingly deserted Navajo Reservation (how do they have a COVID problem while so widely separated?). We drove to Windlow Arizona (Standing on a Corner), where my husband got some great pictures. Stayed at the La Posada Hotel (means “inn” in Spanish). A one-of-a-kind hotel with artwork everywhere, rooms decorated in Spanish style, and a great restaurant where we tried deep-fried squash blossoms for the first time.

So, in this year of COVID, this year where time is slow and fast, life is dangerous and care-free, the future is certain and up-in-the-air, I’ve decided to do that which I have no other choice but to do–wait, watch, wear my mask and self-distance.

A Disneyland for Adults–Our National Parks

My husband and I just got back from a “COVID19 Road Trip” from our home in Denver to the Grand Canyon and Mesa Verde.  This is our second trip to the area (DH grew up in Tucson, Az) and we affectionately call the excursion “the hole-in-the-ground trip. because of stops in the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde cliff dwellings and the not-so-famous meteorite site in Arizona.

This trip was different and seemed the littlest bit risky because we were leaving the relatively low-COVID-rate Colorado to Arizona and New Mexico, which were experiencing surges in rates.

We felt safe and there weren’t many people in the parks or on the road. Where ever we stopped, people wore masks and practiced social distancing (with the exception of a few cowboy-types, who tipped their hats at us while keeping a safe distance away).  We ate a lot of take-out and had little picnics. Nothing better than a bottle of wine, a loaf of good bread and a wedge of cheese.

We both get little bits of inspiration while on any of our trips, and while this one didn’t bring anything earth-shattering to me, I did have little insights. Such as, I forget how fortunate we are, how much we have, how healthy we are. I remembered to be grateful each day. We drove a couple of miles into the Navajo Indian Nation and were were struck by the simple houses, which were spaced so far apart that you wonder why the COVID19 rate is so high in New Mexico and Arizona given the sheer vastness. Is it the presence of the casinos? Are “outsiders” bringing in the virus to the Native Americans in much the same way we brought Small Pox to them so many decades ago? I hope not.

I was also struck by the appearance of poverty on the reservation. It’s easy to say that they have so much land, so much space that they must be happy, but when people don’t have money to build and sustain their homes and businesses, it’s hard to work their way “up” in the world.  I’ve always said that money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure helps prevent unhappiness when basic needs aren’t met.

What can I do to help? I have an aunt who taught for years on a reservation in South Dakota while living in a trailer house, suffering brutal winters and adopting abandoned dogs in the process of teaching youngsters to read and write. Food for thought for me.

On a lighter note: On our way back home to Denver, we were forced to cross the border from New Mexico back to Colorado to avoid a quarantine order in New Mexico. Once across the border, we discovered there weren’t any available hotel rooms even though their must have been ten hotels in the area. Also, there was a party atmosphere. DH figured out that the crowd had crossed the border to access the recreational marijuana (which is legal in Colorado now). We finally found a room, overpaid for it because we were too tired to travel farther, and made our way home the next day.

I’d much rather visit these places, including the National Parks, which to me are much more interesting, awe-inspiring and fun than a place like Disneyland.

Is There a “Code” for Writing a Bestseller (or Even a Book That Makes it to the Midlist)?

I recently read a non-fiction book titled: The Bestseller Code (by Archer & Jocker). As I came from a computer background (having worked with computers from in the corporate world for years), the book tickled my curiosity for both technology and books. The premise is that there is a “code” or set of formulas for writing a best-seller, the ultimate goal, it seems that a computer could write a bestseller some day. Why am I reminded of the saying that a million monkeys pounding on a million typewriters can create a bestseller? (I’m too lazy right now to Google it, but the gist is there).

The book is fascinating, a I passed it along to my computer-expert husband & so far he’s interested in the concept too.

The authors have devised a computer program to analyze any manuscript (and, you too can pay to have your manuscript analyzed here https://authors.ai/marlowe/ ). Inexplicably, one of the books used in many of the examples is E.L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey, which it turns out compares favorably with books written by Baldacci (thriller), Patterson (suspense/thrillers), and Jodi Picoult (women’s fiction).

It’s an interesting book.

The “Lost” Year?

My husband recently referred to this year (2020) as the “lost” year; he’s no longer able to conduct his business at the “brick-and-mortar” office, but is fortunate that his employees (fewer than 10 in all) are able to work from home offices. That’s one of the beauties of a software business (he owns and operates KnowWare Intl, which provides software, books and training). We’re all now in a new normal of working from (or trying to) work from home, trying to stay safe while maintaining some kind of normal life, trying not to gain too much weight from our new hobbies of candy-making and/or bread-making, trying out new hobbies and planning for a life hopefully beyond being quarantined.

I have to feel for children and young people (and the parents of those little people), for whom this has become a new frontier of growing up in a world that seems just a little more dangerous.

Maybe this isn’t a lost year, but a “found” year where we find new resourcefulness, new resilience, new hobbies, make life-changing decisions and make new connections.

« Older posts Newer posts »