There are moments in time when something happens that you've read about in a book and you think "That won't happen to me. I'll never hear that sound. I will never know how it will make me feel. Personally. Intimately.'
But I have to say that I had that experience today. Let me say first, that I have always loved horses. This came from reading so many Walter Farley books as a child. The Black Stallion, Man O' War...you know the list. I devoured them. Ate them up, but being a city girl I never really had the opportunity to be close to horses or actually know any on a first name basis.
That has changed.
Mostly because of my daughter and her over-indulgent father. Heh. Couldn't be me right? Nah...
But my daughter has been taking riding lessons. She has practically begged me for over half of her life to do just that. When she was two, we started taking her through the racing barns where her Grandmother lived. Every fall the two and three year olds would come down to North Carolina to train. They trained for Sulky racing. That's when her love affair started.
Now, I'm an idiot when it comes to these kinds of things. And let me tell you a horse that is only two still has not really learned a whole lot of manners. (Let me say only the ones that I have known) And these horses were skittish aka nervous, and even though I knew why, they still kind of scared me a bit. How was I to know that they were on a high protein feed that made them have more energy than a two year old child who's over dosed on eight bags of candy? I learned that later of course.
But now, after having helped my daughter muck out stalls, and watched her learning to ride which has caused several bouts of near heart failure, I'm learning about these amazing animals. They are so different. They have their own personalities and while they say their brain is only the size of a pea they have the ability to render me speechless with their beauty, grace and their hearts. While their brain may be small I think their hearts make up for it.
Today, after school my daughter begged and begged for me to take her out to the barn. There was no one there and they had turned the horses out to pasture. When we pulled into the stable the look of dissappointment on my daughter's face mimicked my own. We both were looking forward to seeing them. It's been raining here for days and they have been keeping the boys and girls in their stalls due to the mud. Needless to say they were a little jumpy and wanted to get out to stretch their legs.
So my daughter went into the riding ring to look for them.
That was when I heard it. That sound. The one I never thought I would hear. The sound of Thunder. Running horses. The multitude of hooves hitting the earth.
The ground really does quake and your heart speeds up and you can feel the blood rushing through your system. You can't see them, but they are there. And when they broke through the clearing, all eight of them covered in mud hiding gorgeous coats that have yet to get their winter fur, I couldn't make a sound. I just looked at my daughter and she looked at me and we just grinned. They had come to greet us, and I'm sure hoping against hope that we had brought treats with us.
We fed them carrots and peppermints (of which they all seem to love) and then they headed back out to the pasture. We got back into the car and headed out to the front pasture just to watch them.
And that is when I realized that my daughter is in love.
Not with the horse she rides. No. This is a different horse. I've never seen his owner out at the barn (and we are there a good bit) but this horse is amazing. He is huge and solid black with two white front feet. But he has the most amazing black mane that has to be at least five inches long and when he runs and arches that tail you just know you could fly if you could ride him only once.
Salem tolerates me, and only when I come bringing gifts. But for her? Oh, I think he would cross oceans for her. Whenever he sees her he comes running hell bent for leather and just when I think he's going to run us over he comes to a halt so fast the dust starts to fly.
I think Salem is in love too.
They are quite a pair. All night tonight when she was cleaning stalls, every time she passed him, that big majestic head would pop out and he would do his best to get her attention. She gave it to him. A pat here, a scratch behind his ears and of course a kiss on that silky nose.
The funny thing is Salem doesn't really take to just anyone. He doesn't really like adults and most children are afraid of him because of his size. But not my Megs. Her head barely comes to the top of his chest. He could and does put his head on top of hers. Sometimes it's just for a nuzzle or to sniff at her hair or to give her a lick. (Yeah another heart failure moment. When a horse starts licking the back of your child's neck you immediately want to snatch her away. But then I've learned that I don't think this horse would harm a hair on her head.) And he is a jealous love too. She can't show any of the other horses attention when she is there. I bet it breaks his heart when she rides Mucho. I can see him looking at them, wistfully, his big brown eyes sad.
So my daughter is in love.
I'm just thankful that it is with a horse and not a boy...
I'll try and get some pictures tomorrow
Monday, October 30, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Okay girls! I have a challenge for you. I think it would be fun. I challenge all these people! Joely, Beth, Tanya, Jane, and Lynn! Come up with a story that is no more than six words.
I got this from Neil Gaiman's blog where an editor at Wired Magazinechallenged writers to come up with a story in six words. Hemingway once did this and said it was his best work. You can read the post and see some examples here
Here is my favorite that is in Wired.
Dorothy: "Fuck it, I'll stay here."
- Steven Meretzky
Here is my contribution to the fun:
Beautiful Black Caskets for sale: Used.
or
Mudpuddle. Stepped in it. Dirty
So come on girls, lets see your six word stories.
Michelle
P.S. That is whenever Blogger quits doing whatever it is doing at the moment that makes it impossible to leave a comment on someone's blog. Argh. Cut that Beta stuff out would you?
a) The ants decide it's time to come indoors
b) There is frost on the ground
c) You have to scrape your windshield
d) You need sinus medication for the changing of the seasons
e) You have to turn the heat on because it is 29'f outside
Yeah, the ants are back in the bathroom. Coming in from behind the faucet. Ugh! Time for more Borax.
I want to go back to sleep.
Mia, my baby, got spayed yesterday therefore I got little to no sleep last night. I was up at 3:30 a.m. walking her around in the back yard. She is so strange. She won't move. She is in the kennel right now. It always amazes me how dogs are different. Dixie hates the kennel. She was nuts and barked her fool head off. Mia? She sits in there afraid to move. I don't think she has a high tolerance for pain. But I've got to keep them all seperated for ten days. That will be fun. But at least shes okay.
Still plotting on books. Making progress. I have made my goal to have both books plotted by the end of December. I will start writing Jan 1. I'm also working on some short stories. We'll see how it goes.
Hugs to all!
Michelle
who is very cold this morning.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
You know, money has never really been important to me. I've never cared whether I am wearing the latest fashion or whose name happens to be on my clothes. It just has never been that important. Oh, sure I've wished I've had more money to buy things I want, like a fancy camera or a better computer or something. But it seems to me, the more you want something and the longer it takes to get it, the better care you take of that thing.
This weekend, well it was a tough one. We didn't get to talk much about ole Three toes the bear, or the fact that my uncle used to throw knives at my mother out by the barn, well, at least until Granny caught him.
No. Saturday was to talk about the land.
It's taken me two days to be able to talk about it. Not many people have a calling to the land anymore. Used to you had to have it to survive. It fed, gave you a place to hang your head, but not so much anymore. The way of the small farmer has gone. Unless you have a big time operation these days, hell the gov't might pay you not to farm. (That happens, why do you think cotton is so high? Manipulation of markets don't simply happen on Wall street folks)
So there are six brothers and sisters. I guess I don't have to tell you that the majority of them want to sell the land. My mother doesn't, and by God she took a ration of shit for that fact, and why should that happen? Who says she can't do what she wants. I don't know, but families can be brutal when it comes right down to it, for money and greed.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the land hadn't been in our family since 1762. Yeah, that long. It's been over 200 years that the land has been in our family. It has dwindled down, and dwindled down until there is only 36 acres left from 10,000. All in the space of a hundred years. If they all sell, my aunt will be the only remaining person living on the land that belonged to our family. 10,000 down to 1.
So yeah, I'm just a little bit heartbroken, and wishing I had the money to buy them all out. Here are some pictures...might be the last ones I take
This weekend, well it was a tough one. We didn't get to talk much about ole Three toes the bear, or the fact that my uncle used to throw knives at my mother out by the barn, well, at least until Granny caught him.
No. Saturday was to talk about the land.
It's taken me two days to be able to talk about it. Not many people have a calling to the land anymore. Used to you had to have it to survive. It fed, gave you a place to hang your head, but not so much anymore. The way of the small farmer has gone. Unless you have a big time operation these days, hell the gov't might pay you not to farm. (That happens, why do you think cotton is so high? Manipulation of markets don't simply happen on Wall street folks)
So there are six brothers and sisters. I guess I don't have to tell you that the majority of them want to sell the land. My mother doesn't, and by God she took a ration of shit for that fact, and why should that happen? Who says she can't do what she wants. I don't know, but families can be brutal when it comes right down to it, for money and greed.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the land hadn't been in our family since 1762. Yeah, that long. It's been over 200 years that the land has been in our family. It has dwindled down, and dwindled down until there is only 36 acres left from 10,000. All in the space of a hundred years. If they all sell, my aunt will be the only remaining person living on the land that belonged to our family. 10,000 down to 1.
So yeah, I'm just a little bit heartbroken, and wishing I had the money to buy them all out. Here are some pictures...might be the last ones I take
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Just re-read my post. I've got to fix the colors on this blog. I know, Janie. I'll do it. Probably get it done when I get back. So sorry if your eyes start to cross
This would be the fun blog. Where I talk about funny things that happen to me. Where I post pictures of fun things, family, etc.
The other blog is the work blog This is where I will be talking about my writing projects. This way, if you don't give a rat's ass about writing, you can stay here and all is well. However, if you want to know why I'm banging my head against the wall, or in general am in a pissy mood then you can trapse (yeah, I'm liking that word a lot. I've used it twice in two days. Oh my!) over to the work blog and see what I'm working on or just get a good laugh. I'm sure insanity will ensue on that blog. I'm fairly neurotic.
Anyway, that is just so you folks know what is going on. The link on the sidebar (to the right of the post) that says writing progress will link to the other blog. So it will be easy peasy.
Okay, now that I've got that taken care of. Oh, one more thing. I've been having fun with photo shop brushes with my headers. How do you like? Fun stuff huh? If you've never played with photoshop brushes, well heh, they are a lot of fun. I am now the owner of a rubber ducky brush. Go figure. What the hell I'll ever use that brush for is beyond me. But it's there. You can also search google for free brushes. That's a great way to procrastinate as well.
Anyway, I've over booked myself again. My house is a wreck. I finally vaccumed the stairs today, and please do not ask me how long it's been cause I don't remember. That should give you a clue. My mother is coming on Sunday night, and I know she is going to rag on me about my house. Does it matter that I work, write, and homeschool my daughter? Uh-no. I'm supposed to be June Cleaver. Unfortunatley, that is just not going to happen in my life time. I've already told her not to gripe at me. I'll see her tommorrow because I'm going up into them there hills. (If you guys don't hear from me for a while send out a search party. Just joking. Nobody would mess with my family. They are crazy) So all my mother's brothers and sisters are coming home to Ellenboro this weekend and yeah, I'm going with tape recorder and camcorder in hand. They are getting up in age and I love to sit and just listen to them talk. They tell the most incredible stories. Stories that are stranger than fiction and could only be deemed truth.
I mean really,what other two sisters do you know that would fight over cream cheese icing and cut out a tonsil with a spoon. I kid you not. I told you they were nuts. Or the time my Uncle David got one of those Red Rider (I hope I've got that right) air riffles and started killing the neighbors chickens. Of course my grandmother didn't care until he shot my Mother. Strange thing, that air riffle just up and disappeared. Wonder why? Because some people should not be allowed to play with weapons, that's why.
So anyway, I'll probably be sparse for the next couple of days. I'm taking my writing with me so I probably won't get a blooming thing done. But, you know, just incase...
Hope you're all having a good Friday and worse case scenario I'll be back Sunday night.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
I believe...
That if you smile the world smiles with you.
Being humble is not a bad thing.
The most significant thing on earth is the sound of a child's laughter.
That Winnie the poo is still waiting for Christopher Robin in the hundred acre wood.
That Captain Hook is still being chased by the tick tock crocodile.
That war sucks.
Good friends are worth their weight in gold.
That my glass is half full.
That if you write well, there is no need to defend it. It is what it is.
That you should not blame others for your own shortcomings.
That you should know your own faults well enough that no one can throw them in your face.
That 99.9% of the time, yeah, you are going to be disappointed.
That you can still laugh it off.
Life is short and you should make the most of it.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Since I can't spam Janie's blog anymore, I guess I'll spam my own.
Today's disasters...in random order:
1. I spied an ant on my desk. Those of you (if there are any of you) who read my blog, will know that I have an ongoing hate/love relationship with the ants in my subdivision. (I hate them/they love me...apparently) Of course I got out my banned last little bit of diaza stuff and squirted all the windows down screaming at the top of my lungs...die you little buggars die. (The neighbors became quite alarmed but backed off immediately when I pointed my little spray nozzle in their direction)
2. I do not know if my little one has horseback riding lessons tomorrow because her instructor washed her cell phone with her laundry. I should try that trick, maybe then I won't have to answer it. She, of course, leaves me another number because she wants to know if we can change our time for lessons to later in the day. Say oh about 6:00 o'clock. I myself am wondering how safe it can be learning to ride a horse in the dark. Especially with the time change coming on. So anyway, I left her a message on her daughters phone like I was asked to do and did I get a call back? Do I know whether to show up tomorrow? No. I don't. Color me aggravated.
3. I'm plotting my YA book, story, novel, pile of crap, using Marshall's plan. I wanted to give it a go, and well I've been going all right. I ran my printer out of ink. Tried to re-fill it and managed only to get that inky stuff all over my hands. Thankfully, I did get enough copies made to finish my work for the night. Well, I finished early because I have no more sheets. How's that?
4. How come we can't make fillable outtable forms for these section sheets? I swear (as I said on Janie's blog) that I hope my writing hand does not stay in this claw like position forever. I look like "thing" or was it "hand" from the Adams Family except that I think "thing" or "hand" has more dexterity that I do at this point and he doesn't look like a spotted monstrosity.
5. I'm on my fourth week of not smoking. Yes, again. Hey, you gotta give a girl credit for trying. And all the members of my family, so far, are still alive and well. I must be getting better at this quitting thing. Ha! However, I am now on my last piece of Nicorette gum and am trying not to finish eating the sheetrock where Mia (my darling pet) left off.
6. Mia has now destroyed two relatively new pair of underwear. It would have been fine it they were my husbands. He doesn't mind the holes. Unfortunately I'm not keen on drafts myself. So in the garbage they went. I won't even discuss the sock situation again. Damn lint dragon. I wish he would go and haunt someone else's dryer. So I'll be off to buy underwear and socks for the family tomorrow. I was actually thinking that I may save some of them for Christmas presents. Everyone needs a gift that keeps on giving right? Who wants the jelly of the month club anyway?
7. Evidently someone hacked into GB.net. The site is okay. Thank GAWD. I mean what would I do in my spare time if I couldn't go drool over Gerard Butler? Girls, are you with me on this? Well, Janie is drooling over Clive, or Viggo but this is serious shit. (pardon the curse word) But they've got it all up and running again. What a horrible malicious thing to do. Good thing I don't know who did it or I would go after them with my little spray diazas stuff.
Well, I'm sure there is other stuff I could gripe about, but I won't bore you to tears with it. My hand is now actually uncurling, and I need to go finish a couple more of these mind bending section sheets. Mr. Marshall if you ever by some strange chance, like if the stars all line up one right after the other or something and you happen to read my blog, I really do love your process, I think it's going to work, which actually shocks the hell out of me. But it sure beats re-writting a book a three times. So I salute you.
P.S. Janie, please e-mail me when BellSouth decides to fix your email.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
I mean, doesn't everyone?
While I love my computer, it can be a very distracting thing. I'm actually thinking of disconnecting it from the internet for certain hours of the day. The only problem is that when I'm working (I work from home) I need the internet. Bollocks! That won't work.
I remember when I was younger and writing all those stories that I never finished--I must have well over 200 hundred half started novels sitting in boxes in the closet in there--I wrote on a type writer.
I miss it.
I miss the sound of the electric typewriter? Do you remember? I loved the hum of the thing. And the sound of the metal clicking against the paper and roller. I think I'm going to try and find my old typewriter. It is probably rusted away in a dark corner of Mother's attic. I hope that racoon didn't get to it like everything else.
Work:
I made great progress last night. I have all my characters named (I hope that I don't have to change any of them)and have written down strength and weaknesses for all my characters in the YA. I have set it in South Carolina. I'm a southern writer for Pete's sake and I know nothing better than home. I'm actually now at section sheets. I'm going the Marshall way with this one, just because I want to work through his process. I've tried my own, and we'll just say that it took twice as long to write a short story as it should have.
But I'm pleased.
I'm working on the YA out of a notebook. A three ring binder. All my notes on characters, setting, premise (what I want my book to prove-and the moral of my story)are in those notes. I've already hand written over forty-five pages in the thing. Crazy. I've never, ever done this much pre-work on a story. Go figure. Probably why the rest weren't worth a shite.
I'm going to be taking my other Michelle blog. (The crazy ramblings one) and put all my book work over there. The pearl drops of wisdom and the banging of my head against walls on that blog. Just as fyi...in case anyone out there in cyber space cares...LOL
On a secondary note, the last few days I've spent reading some blogs. Interesting stuff that. I say just write the damn thing and learn your craft. The only way a writer gets better in my opinion is to write.
So that's exactly what I'm going to do.
P.S. That Man (borrowing from Joely's blog) hasn't fixed the holes in my kitchen walls from the dogs. I'll bet anyone ten bucks it will be this time next year before it gets finished...LOL
Monday, October 16, 2006
How is that for a headline? Unfortunately it's true as well. I don't know if it was Dixie or Mia that did the chewing of the sheet rock but I was not a happy camper to say the least. Especially since this came straight on the heels of Mia chewing the carpet off of my stairs. Argh!!!!
Anyway...
The work. I'm still working on the plot for two stories. I'm still reading and researching for the Hick Novel I'm going to write. And by saying Hick, I say that with the utmost love since most of these characters are based off of my own family members...It's going to be a fun story to write, I'm just trying to decide on structure.
The other major work I'm plotting out is a young adult fantasy novel. I've already done my character sheets. I've got my premise, and am trying to find a way for it not to be so damn sad at the end. The story is complete in my head but I'm going to plot it out like a good girl. I've found that by plotting or at least outlining the major events that the writing stays on course. I know a lot of people don't like to do that, and some even say that it takes the fun out of it. But not me. There are still always surprises. And nice big ones in this story. Just when you think things are going to be all right another alligator jumps into the boat and sends the boat in a totally different direction. At least that is my goal. I want to keep people guessing and because my narrator is a young girl, who is not worldly I think I can make it believable. I am hoping that is the case anyway.
So, Michelle is a busy little girl.
Oh, and go DEACS!!!! We beat NC STATE over the weekend, and went to the game in Raleigh. It was SO much fun. Great game, and the Deacs really had me worried there a little bit. But alls well that ends well ne?
Friday, October 13, 2006
Midnight and Dixie. I love this picture. Doesn't she just look like she's (the cat) reading the dog the riot act? *snort*
This is one of my munchkin...surrounded by azaleas. You know, when I lived in Texas no one ever believed me when I told them we had azaleas taller than I am. Too bad I didn't have these pictures back then huh?
And another one of me and Dad...He's a fairly tall drink of water isn't he? Well, it could be I'm a very short stout juice glass LOL
This is an older picture of Mother and I...she does love her bright clothes. I keep telling her that she is supposed to go more conservative in her golden years, but she blatantly ignores me. Go figure
The Seine net hanging on the wall, while it looks like a pretty prop, is in fact the very one we used for over fifteen years to shrimp over off of Morris Island. Now there is a tale to tell.
A picture of the shark Daddy caught just outside the Charleston Harbor. Scary ne? Oh and my brother Brian
Thursday, October 12, 2006
I have always loved the old songs. Most of them learned while sitting at my grandmother's knee. Even in the 70's these songs are still sung in the high hills of North Carolina passed from one generation to the next.
Since I learned those songs, it has always been an interest of mine of their origins. And they are very very old. Most of them came from the "old country" with my ancestors as they came to this country. All of my relatives were either Scottish or Irish and as you must know we take our songs and stories very seriously.
One of my favorites is the song...Barbara Allen.
This song, the way it was taught to me had been changed down through the years. The original version from what I can gather through some of my research is Scottish in origin. Here are the original lyrics that I could find on the internet for
Bonny Barbara Allen...
It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a-falling,
That Sir John Graeme, in the West country,
Fell in love with Barbara Allen.
He sent his men down through the town
To the place where she was dwelling:
"O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allen."
O hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by'
"Young man, I think you're dying."
"O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,
And it's a' for Barbara Allen;"
"O the better for me you shall never be,
Though your heart's blood were a spilling."
"O dinna ye mind, young man," she said,
"When the red wine ye were filling,
That ye made the healths gae round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allen?"
He turned his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing;
"Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allen."
That is not exactly the version we sang as children or the one I have taught my daughter. This is the version that I learned sitting at my grandmother's knee.
Twas in the merry month of May
When green buds all were swellin',
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his servant to the town
To the place where she was dwellin,
Said you must come, to my master dear
If your name be Barbara Allen.
He sent his servant to the town
A place where she did dwell in,
Said master dear, has sent me here
If your name be Barbara Allen.
So slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she drew nigh him,
And the only words to him did say
Young man I think you're dying.
Then slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she went to him,
And all she said, when there she came
Young man I think you're dying.
He turned his face unto the wall
When we were in the tavern,
Good-bye, good-bye, to my friends all
Be good to Barbara Allen.
Don't you remember the other night
And death was in him welling,
You drank a toast to the ladies there
And slighted Barbara Allen.
When he was dead and laid in grave
She heard the death bells melling
And every stroke to her did say
Hard hearted Barbara Allen.
He turned his face unto the wall
He turned his back upon her,
Adieu, adieu, to all my friends
And be kind, be kind, to Barbara Allen.
Oh mother, oh mother go dig my grave
Make it both long and narrow,
Sweet William died of love for me
And I'll die for him tomorrow
As she was wandering by the fields
She heard the death bells melling
And every note did seem to say
Hard hearted Barbara Allen.
And father, oh father, go dig my grave
Make it both long and narrow,
Sweet William died on yesterday
And I will die tomorrow.
The more it tolled the more she grieved
She bursted out a crying,
Oh pick me up and carry me home
I feel that I am dying.
Barbara Allen was buried in the old churchyard
Sweet William was buried nigh her,
Out of sweet William's heart, there grew a rose
From Barbara's a green briar.
Or something similar to that. It's the closest I can find. I'm going to be with my family next weekend and I'm going to have my aunt sing it to me again so I can write my families version.
Since I learned those songs, it has always been an interest of mine of their origins. And they are very very old. Most of them came from the "old country" with my ancestors as they came to this country. All of my relatives were either Scottish or Irish and as you must know we take our songs and stories very seriously.
One of my favorites is the song...Barbara Allen.
This song, the way it was taught to me had been changed down through the years. The original version from what I can gather through some of my research is Scottish in origin. Here are the original lyrics that I could find on the internet for
Bonny Barbara Allen...
It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a-falling,
That Sir John Graeme, in the West country,
Fell in love with Barbara Allen.
He sent his men down through the town
To the place where she was dwelling:
"O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allen."
O hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by'
"Young man, I think you're dying."
"O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,
And it's a' for Barbara Allen;"
"O the better for me you shall never be,
Though your heart's blood were a spilling."
"O dinna ye mind, young man," she said,
"When the red wine ye were filling,
That ye made the healths gae round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allen?"
He turned his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing;
"Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allen."
That is not exactly the version we sang as children or the one I have taught my daughter. This is the version that I learned sitting at my grandmother's knee.
Twas in the merry month of May
When green buds all were swellin',
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his servant to the town
To the place where she was dwellin,
Said you must come, to my master dear
If your name be Barbara Allen.
He sent his servant to the town
A place where she did dwell in,
Said master dear, has sent me here
If your name be Barbara Allen.
So slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she drew nigh him,
And the only words to him did say
Young man I think you're dying.
Then slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she went to him,
And all she said, when there she came
Young man I think you're dying.
He turned his face unto the wall
When we were in the tavern,
Good-bye, good-bye, to my friends all
Be good to Barbara Allen.
Don't you remember the other night
And death was in him welling,
You drank a toast to the ladies there
And slighted Barbara Allen.
When he was dead and laid in grave
She heard the death bells melling
And every stroke to her did say
Hard hearted Barbara Allen.
He turned his face unto the wall
He turned his back upon her,
Adieu, adieu, to all my friends
And be kind, be kind, to Barbara Allen.
Oh mother, oh mother go dig my grave
Make it both long and narrow,
Sweet William died of love for me
And I'll die for him tomorrow
As she was wandering by the fields
She heard the death bells melling
And every note did seem to say
Hard hearted Barbara Allen.
And father, oh father, go dig my grave
Make it both long and narrow,
Sweet William died on yesterday
And I will die tomorrow.
The more it tolled the more she grieved
She bursted out a crying,
Oh pick me up and carry me home
I feel that I am dying.
Barbara Allen was buried in the old churchyard
Sweet William was buried nigh her,
Out of sweet William's heart, there grew a rose
From Barbara's a green briar.
Or something similar to that. It's the closest I can find. I'm going to be with my family next weekend and I'm going to have my aunt sing it to me again so I can write my families version.
There is a saying, down here in the south, that the longest road, is the road that leads you home. That road home? Well it twists and turns, its path lost amongst fog and moss, and sometimes you lose sight of it.
But only sometimes
And then sometimes, you find it. The purpose. The love. And the reason to write. It's never been about money to me, the writing of a story. It's always been about the character and the emotion. While like everyone else, I could use some spare change, I have a good job that pays the mortage, if I'm lucky and I hold my upper lip in just the right position I can afford a movie on Sunday with extra for popcorn. So I've decided and I wrote it down, dear heavens someone save me because if it's written down it must be done, that I'm going to write the book of my heart.
I don't particularly care if my skill is good enough, or even if I've the right of it yet. But I'm going to write it all the same. The good, the bad, and the craziness because let me tell you, nobody on earth would believe some of these events to be true, but they are, I'm laughing here, because only people from the south have family like mine.
Janie, I'm sorry I didn't get to call you today like I said, but I ended up having to work. Sucky day job. Sorry. I actually didn't even get home until about 9:30 If you were up and 'you know who' wouldn't kill me, I'd call. But I hope that after that soliloquy (yeah, you know I had to look that up to get it spelled right) that you posted today you've gone and gotten yourself some much needed sleep. You absoultly almost made me laugh my knickers off. Good one Janie. That one was full of piss and vinegar. Just like I like 'em.
Okay, I'm signing off for tonight folks. I hope you've all had a better day.
Here's hoping that the earplugs I bought work tonight so I can finally get some much needed sleep myself. If not, I swear I'm going to put a pallet in my office and bunk down in here. I can hear the lion snoring all the way downstairs.
But only sometimes
And then sometimes, you find it. The purpose. The love. And the reason to write. It's never been about money to me, the writing of a story. It's always been about the character and the emotion. While like everyone else, I could use some spare change, I have a good job that pays the mortage, if I'm lucky and I hold my upper lip in just the right position I can afford a movie on Sunday with extra for popcorn. So I've decided and I wrote it down, dear heavens someone save me because if it's written down it must be done, that I'm going to write the book of my heart.
I don't particularly care if my skill is good enough, or even if I've the right of it yet. But I'm going to write it all the same. The good, the bad, and the craziness because let me tell you, nobody on earth would believe some of these events to be true, but they are, I'm laughing here, because only people from the south have family like mine.
Janie, I'm sorry I didn't get to call you today like I said, but I ended up having to work. Sucky day job. Sorry. I actually didn't even get home until about 9:30 If you were up and 'you know who' wouldn't kill me, I'd call. But I hope that after that soliloquy (yeah, you know I had to look that up to get it spelled right) that you posted today you've gone and gotten yourself some much needed sleep. You absoultly almost made me laugh my knickers off. Good one Janie. That one was full of piss and vinegar. Just like I like 'em.
Okay, I'm signing off for tonight folks. I hope you've all had a better day.
Here's hoping that the earplugs I bought work tonight so I can finally get some much needed sleep myself. If not, I swear I'm going to put a pallet in my office and bunk down in here. I can hear the lion snoring all the way downstairs.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Well,
Hrmph! I just made myself and the daughter some lunch. It's a simple one. Hot dogs, chilli, some coleslaw, and a little bit of chilli. It's baked chicken for dinner tonight with lima beans, left over coleslaw, and some corn bread. Much better than the hot dogs we're having for lunch I can assure you.
Strange as this may seem, while I am writing on a short story I have started plotting. I'm driven to plot, which is weird to me. I've pulled out The Marshall plan worksheets and am working through them with a story. I'm going to begin keeping track of my progress on that story and the plotting work I'm doing. I really like plotting. I always have, but I have never really gone into the detail that Marshall requires. I think it is a good excercise for me. Who knows? I may plot out a couple of books, just to get the hang of it. Through the last year, I've moved from being a pantser to more of a plotter and thinker with my writing. And so far I've found the practise to be very rewarding. I'm hoping, that by doing this excersise and thinking the thing through all the way that I'll avoid a lot of the re-writing I've done in the past. I find that re-writing a scene simply because I haven't planned properly doesn't sit well with me any longer. However, I realize that writing is in itself is a form of re-writing at least this way I have a proper map to follow.
I'll be keeping track of how well I like this as I go on. It should prove interesting.
Hrmph! I just made myself and the daughter some lunch. It's a simple one. Hot dogs, chilli, some coleslaw, and a little bit of chilli. It's baked chicken for dinner tonight with lima beans, left over coleslaw, and some corn bread. Much better than the hot dogs we're having for lunch I can assure you.
Strange as this may seem, while I am writing on a short story I have started plotting. I'm driven to plot, which is weird to me. I've pulled out The Marshall plan worksheets and am working through them with a story. I'm going to begin keeping track of my progress on that story and the plotting work I'm doing. I really like plotting. I always have, but I have never really gone into the detail that Marshall requires. I think it is a good excercise for me. Who knows? I may plot out a couple of books, just to get the hang of it. Through the last year, I've moved from being a pantser to more of a plotter and thinker with my writing. And so far I've found the practise to be very rewarding. I'm hoping, that by doing this excersise and thinking the thing through all the way that I'll avoid a lot of the re-writing I've done in the past. I find that re-writing a scene simply because I haven't planned properly doesn't sit well with me any longer. However, I realize that writing is in itself is a form of re-writing at least this way I have a proper map to follow.
I'll be keeping track of how well I like this as I go on. It should prove interesting.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Go here and watch!
That link will take you to the page where you can view the barely released trailer for "300"
All I can say after watching it is "Holy Sheep Shite" Batman...
I cannot wait to see this movie. This puppy looks like it is going to be simply amazing. (My infatuation with Gerard Butler aside)
My favorite quote, which I had seen this before somewhere and I'm not sure where is...
"Our arrows will blot out the sun." (persion army dude to one of the Spartans)
(Spartan replies...)Then we shall fight in the shade.
The above quote is shortened of course but the Spartan in question is not Gerry but the guy who played the lead in HEX but with much longer hair and he looks a lot younger. (Very handsome in his cod piece...LOL)
Anyway it looks like this movie is going to cook with serious G-A-S
That link will take you to the page where you can view the barely released trailer for "300"
All I can say after watching it is "Holy Sheep Shite" Batman...
I cannot wait to see this movie. This puppy looks like it is going to be simply amazing. (My infatuation with Gerard Butler aside)
My favorite quote, which I had seen this before somewhere and I'm not sure where is...
"Our arrows will blot out the sun." (persion army dude to one of the Spartans)
(Spartan replies...)Then we shall fight in the shade.
The above quote is shortened of course but the Spartan in question is not Gerry but the guy who played the lead in HEX but with much longer hair and he looks a lot younger. (Very handsome in his cod piece...LOL)
Anyway it looks like this movie is going to cook with serious G-A-S
