As some…perhaps most…of you know, I’m retiring from my day job in a couple weeks. There is no one reason, but a big one is so I can pursue my dream of writing full time and becoming a published novelist. It’s not going to be easy. I have no illusions about that. It will take long hours of discipline and a hard shell when it comes to criticism and revision requests. But I have a wonderful example of how it’s done in a good friend, Tina Susedik, a/k/a Anita Kidesu. Tina/Anita has written numerous books ranging from children’s to historical nonfiction to romantic mystery to erotic romance for several different publishers. She’s currently developing a radio show, Your Book Garden, to be aired on Authors on the Air Global Radio.

Warning: I’m now going to shamelessly plug her two most recent publications. The first one I’ve finished reading, and the second I’m currently reading and find very hard to put down.

“The Trail to Love” is book 4 in the Soul Mate Tree novella series and Tina’s first historical romance. Jack Billabard, grieving over the death of his wife and newborn son, and Sarah Nichelson, a young mother looking to start a new life with her son after the death of her abusive husband, meet while heading west on the Oregon Trail. The question throughout is whether or not they can overcome the many dangers that surround them, as well as their own fears, and accept the love that grows steadily between them. The novella length makes this book, along with the others in the Soul Mate Tree series, the perfect read when you don’t have a lot of time or patience to commit. At only about 150 pages you can, and will want to, read this in one sitting.

“A Photograph Of Love” is part of the Hell Yeah! Series on Kindle Worlds. I haven’t finished this book yet, but only because of my very busy schedule. In fact, I’d rather be reading it right now instead of trying to write this blog. It starts with one of the best opening scenes I’ve ever read. An opening scene that can teach even the most accomplished writer how to pull their reader into the story and never let them go. Let’s just say it includes a beautiful amateur photographer named Trudy Selucas who, while trying to modestly answer the call of nature in the wide-open Texas countryside, has a very precarious, and embarrassing, run-in with a rattlesnake which ends with her needing to be rescued by the very handsome cowboy, Lincoln Phister. I don’t want to say anymore and potentially ruin it for you. I highly suggest you read it yourself. I laughed out loud, and not for the first time with one of Tina’s books.

I’ll remember Tina whenever I find myself thinking: “I can’t do this!” “It’s impossible!” “What do they expect? There just aren’t enough hours in the day!” And in the meantime, I will also continue to read her books. She never fails to show me just how it’s done.

Tina isn’t my only idol, though, but more on the others another time.

“I have a lot of excuses, but no excuse.” That’s what a friend said to me this past weekend when we were talking about our writing. I knew exactly what she meant.

I have to work today…I’m tired after having to work today. I have a lot of other things that I just have to do today…I’m tired after all the other things I had to do today. I wrote a lot yesterday so I’m going to take today off. I just can’t think of a thing to write so I’ll go do something else rather than try. I’m too hot. I’m too cold. I think I’m coming down with a cold. The list goes on.

Writing, creating, can be a joyful thing, but it can also be a very painful process. There are days when every word you type is gold, but there are even more days when everything is garbage…or so you think. It’s those times that you have to keep going. You can’t listen to the little voice whispering in your ear, telling you that you’re no good, you’ll never amount to anything, no one will ever want to read what you’re writing so don’t bother.

A lot of garbage on the page is better than nothing on the page. It’s that garbage that you can later pick through, rearrange, until it’s art. Have you ever gone to an exhibit where the sculptures are all created out of literal garbage, discarded items the artist has rescued and brought home to fashion into something truly beautiful? That’s what those pages of questionable worth are, a diamond in the rough, a potential best seller.

So, how bad do you want it? Is a little pain worth the glory? I know on those days I have to force myself to sit down and write I will be glad for it later. What about you?

Time to go write something amazing!

Last weekend was the Polk County Fair. I love the fair and look forward to going every year. Just two doors down, it’s easy to buy an all-weekend pass and come and go as we please. Sunday afternoon we were sitting in the bleachers watching an exciting demolition derby and I was struck by the behavior of the young people sitting around me. Every one of them had a cell phone in their hand. They were hunched over the screen, not paying any attention to the sixteen cars racing around and slamming into one another. They were sliding from screen to screen and tapping away on their little keyboards. The only two speaking to each other were the girl and boy behind us and they were arguing over whether or not she should give him her password. He claimed he gave her his, which she denied, and so on. At least the adults were ignoring theirs for a change.

We are a society addicted to our cell phones, and while we are staring at those little screens the world is passing us by. Text messages and instant link-ups to our social media accounts are the Siren call of the modern age. We can’t seem to look away. It’s impossible to ignore. I admit that even I am compelled to look as soon as I hear the ding that announces a new text or email. At least accessing my social media on my older model phone is too difficult to bother.

I fear the most for our children. They are basing their entire social existence on what their cell phones can do for them. They fill their phones with selfies in various stages of dress and, unfortunately, undress. Then they rapidly share them with others without a second thought as to what happens to those pictures next. I’ve seen them text with a friend sitting right next to them. Their social media accounts are filled with the banality indicative of too much time and not enough to do.

All this electronic socializing is depriving our young people of the necessary skills on how to interact with others. They can’t bear to be alone, yet they don’t know how to be together. They seek contact through emojis, memes, and multi-player video games, creating fake identities to play against “friends” with fake identities. There’s an emoji to express every possible emotion, a little picture for every occasion, for every thought, and even some that don’t seem to mean anything at all. I’ve received texts containing no words, just a string of emojis. Cute but what it means I can only guess. I fear they’re forgetting how to communicate with words and full sentences.

We have to step up and be the adults. We can’t take away their cell phones entirely. Cell phones are, and will continue to be, a part of our lives. But we can set an example. No more phones at the dinner table or family functions. Unless you’re a doctor or on an organ transplant waiting list whatever message is received during dinner can wait until after dinner. It will still be there. No more cell phones in bed. A friend who calls or texts in the middle of the night is no friend. Personally, I turn off my notification sounds and lay my phone upside down at night so the noise and lit screen don’t wake me. I do keep the ringer on, though, since we don’t have a landline. I know any middle of the night call will be for an emergency.

And don’t even think of checking it during the Sunday sermon. Enough said!

As the Rolling Stones say, we just can’t get no satisfaction. In the heart of winter we can’t wait for summer, but when the heat of summer hits we start talking about winter. Have you noticed on Facebook there are constant reminders about how many days until Christmas? It starts December 26^th. Recently I had a photo post of cars half buried in snow and assuring readers that this was only 17 weeks away…as if that’s a good thing!! Then when winter arrives, we’re going to barraged with photos of beaches saying just X number of weeks until summer. No matter what we have, we always want something different.

I admit I’m as guilty as the next person. Not of wishing for Christmas, snow, or frigid temperatures in the middle of July, but of looking to the other side of the fence and wishing I was there. For one thing, when my children were small and running me ragged, fighting with each other night and day, I wished they would grow up faster. Now that they’re adults and live far away, I wish they were small again and able to sit in my lap for a cuddle.

You might envy the friend with the new pet, new car, new house, or new job. But if you really stopped to think about it, if you had that thing would you wish you didn’t? That dog needs shots, walking, house-training. Having a new car might mean suddenly having car payments you don’t currently have with your still reliable old car. A new house means having to pack, move, and unpack. A new job…well, it could prove to be one of those jobs that are actually worse than your current job.

We get so caught up envying our neighbor we fail to see our own blessings. Maybe by continuing to drive your old reliable car that’s paid for you can save enough money to go on the vacation your friend with the new car no longer can afford. Sometimes that person we envy might actually envy us.

For example, I wish I were thinner but I have a friend who is too thin and actually struggles to gain weight. She doesn’t like to hear about the 5-10 extra pounds someone else wants to lose. If only she could put on 10 pounds and keep it on maybe her doctor would stop lecturing her. Maybe you wish you had that exciting high-powered job instead of being just an assistant, while your high-powered boss wishes she were you so she could have time to go out for drinks with her girlfriends…or maybe wishes she had the time to HAVE girlfriends.

So the next time you wish you were someone else, or had all the things someone else has, stop and look at all you DO have. Even if the only blessing you can think of is your health, remember, there are a lot of people who can’t even say that.

“I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.”

You remember that little ditty we all sang as children. Ice cream, who doesn’t love it! I always felt bad for the kids who couldn’t have it because of milk allergies. I don’t know what I’d do without the occasional ice cream, whether it’s a blizzard from the local dairy queen or a simple scoop of vanilla from our freezer, sometimes there’s nothing else that will satisfy.

July 16^th was National Ice Cream Day! Who knew? I didn’t until I saw it on the morning news. But why not when there’s a national day for everything. And there’s nothing more deserving than ice cream for such an honor.

Everyone always asks favorite flavor. I don’t have one particular favorite. It depends on my mood, and the type of ice cream. If I’m in a sorbet or gelato mood I’m more likely to go with something fruity, both domestic and tropical flavors. But if it’s our traditional ice cream, then I tend to lean more toward the chocolates, peanut butter, mint, any combination thereof. I’m generally game for just about any flavor. At home I like to add a generous pour of liqueur on top. No whipped cream, thank you, but a maraschino cherry or two is always welcome; perhaps some sprinkles or nuts to top it off. Only a waffle cone will do. Those cardboard-tasting cones of our childhood don’t make the grade for me. Never did. As for other frozen ice cream treats, ice cream bars are a poor relation in my book, but will suffice in a pinch. I’ve always loved, loved, loved an ice cream sandwich. Maybe that’s because it combines ice cream with another favorite of mine, the cakey-textured cookie.

My hubby and I like to head down to Valley Sweets here in St Croix Falls when we’re in the mood for an ice cream treat. From there we can take our ice cream and walk over to the river overlook to enjoy on a beautiful summer Sunday afternoon. If you’re ever in the area, you should check them out. Located on the river side of Washington Street (the main street) you can’t miss their brightly colored store front. Wonderful ice creams, waffle cones made fresh daily, and old-fashioned candies. The owners and staff are always friendly and happy to serve. This afternoon my husband got his usual black cherry while I tried the new carrot mango sorbet in, of course, a waffle cone. It was fantastic!! I will definitely have that one again.

If you’re interested in the history of everyone’s favorite summer treat, check out: http://www.pbs.org/food/the-history-kitchen/explore-the-delicious-history-of-ice-cream/

Like so many others, I’ve been finding it more and more difficult to balance all the balls I have in the air at any one time: work, church, community, family, friends, writing, reading, crafting, golfing, etc…not necessarily in that order. It’s a hectic fast-paced world we live in and we are all, including children, wearing ourselves out.

I’ve been trying a number of ways to control my time. Some work better than others. Just saying no would seem the most logical solution, but for me that’s not so easy. I generally try not to put myself in a position where I’ll be asked to do something I don’t particularly want to do, but when they find me anyways, I inevitably say yes. Why? I don’t know. I tell myself if I don’t do it no one will, but we all know that’s not true. There’s always someone who will step forward, if they look hard enough, although it’s often the same person. I just generally find it difficult to say no. And then there are the times when, sadly, I have to say no when I really want to say yes.

Most of the things I’m involved with I do by choice. The problem is, I “choose” too many things. So the question became, how to balance them all so nothing is forgotten or late and I’m still left with “me time”. While some people will tell you anything done purely for your own pleasure is selfish, I’d argue it’s healthy. We all need “me time” for relaxation, reflection, to recharge, to be happy.

Back in March I started keeping a list journal. Every day I have a to-do list and I check things off as I complete them. By assigning each task to a day I find I don’t forget to do something until the last minute. There are times I am so busy I don’t get a chance to do things until last minute, but it’s not because I forgot. For example, this week’s blog. You’ll be reading this tomorrow. I don’t normally like to wait until the day before. My list journal has helped me tremendously. However, it hasn’t proven to be enough. My chores are getting done, but my pleasures can still be difficult to fit in.

The next logical step was to evaluate my responsibilities and decide which, if any, could go. That decision came easier than I expected. As of August 31^st I will be retired. My day job was part-time and I took it to get out of the house and meet people. The writer’s life is generally a solitary one. I like my job, I like the people I work with and will miss them, but I treasure other things more. (No offense meant if any of you are reading this.) So it’s time. It’s time to free up more time to write, to pursue my dream of becoming a published novelist. I want to spend more time with my parents, be free to visit my children, go to the cabin, be with my husband, travel.

What do you do to balance your life? Have you had to give up anything? Or are you one of those people seriously out of balance? Maybe you even thrive on that wild pace. Share your ideas in the comments section and who knows; maybe you’ll help someone else out there searching for a more balanced life.

Up North is not just a direction. It’s an experience. It’s an attitude. If you come from the mid-west, I’d say most particularly Wisconsin, Minnesota, or Michigan, you know what I mean.

Up North is where you go hunting, fishing, camping, ATV’ing. (Yes! That’s a word.) Up North is where your cabin is located. Up North is where you go to have fun and get away from it all.

When I was growing up, Up North meant going to visit our grandparents. Now it’s where we have our family cabin. While we’re not far from “civilization” it can feel that way when we’re staying close to home. We don’t have internet service and our cell service is so spotty we have to have a landline in case of emergency. We do, however, have DISH TV. Without it, my husband and I would actually have to talk to each other. That’s a little too primitive for us. One of us might be tempted to bury the other out in the woods before our vacation was through. Just kidding!

When he’s not in the woods, my husband spends hours working on jigsaw puzzles. This trip he finally got brave and opened the one my mother gave him for Christmas a couple years back…all candy canes! He’s going to be working on that one for a while. Me, I like to work on my cross-stitch. We both spend a lot of time reading, and I, of course, write.

We have a favorite bar and grill just down the road from us. If you’re ever in the Laona/Cavour, Wisconsin area, check out Mudslingers on Hwy 8. My husband’s a fan of the one-pound slinger burger. I tease him that it’s basically a meatloaf on a split loaf of bread.

Yes, Up North does have its down side. In the summer we battle mosquitoes, deer and horse flies, and, of course, wood ticks. That’s what bug spray is for. But there are also the animals, wildflowers, and beautiful colored leaves in the fall. There’s the complete silence…most times. Holiday weekends like this one do tend to bring out the ATV’ers (yes, also a word), but they drive by onto the logging road and leave us alone.

We just returned from our 4^th of July trip to the cabin. The bugs were actually more moderate than some years, but definitely made their presence known. We stocked-up at the local winery. We had ice cream in town. We played a round of golf at the local course. It was one of my worst, but as they say, even a bad round of golf is better than a good day at the office. The big disappointment, though, was learning the fireworks are scheduled for the 8th so we’ll miss them this year. There’s always next year!

Celebrating the 4^th of July with fireworks goes back to John Adams, 1777, and the first anniversary of our freedom as a nation. But John Adams did not want the anniversary of our independence to be held on July 4^th. He believed we should celebrate on July 2^nd.

On June 7, 1776, the Continental Congress met at the Pennsylvania State House (Independence Hall) in Philadelphia where Virginia delegate Richard Henry Lee introduced a motion calling for independence. There was a heated debate and a vote was postponed. A five-man committee was appointed to draft a formal statement justifying the break with Great Britain: Thomas Jefferson (Virginia), John Adams (Massachusetts), Roger Sherman (Connecticut), Benjamin Franklin (Pennsylvania), and Robert R Livingston (New York).

The vote was held on July 2^nd and was near-unanimous in favor of independence. New York originally abstained but later voted in favor. That same day John Adams wrote to his wife Abigail that July 2^nd “will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival” and would include “Pomp and Parade…Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other.”

The Declaration of Independence, drafted largely by Thomas Jefferson, was signed on July 4^th, 1776. Even though the actual vote for independence was held on the 2^nd, from that day forward July 4^th became known as the birthday of an independent America. John Adams would refuse all invitations to celebrate on the 4^th.

It had been a tradition in the colonies to hold annual celebrations of the king’s birth, celebrations that included ringing bells, bonfires, processions and speeches. However, in the summer of 1776 the celebration of the king’s birth changed to a mock funeral for King George III to symbolize the death of his hold over the colonies. The first of many annual celebrations of our independence was held on July 4, 1777. In 1778, George Washington ordered double rations of rum for all his soldiers and in 1781 Massachusetts became the first state to make July 4^th an official state holiday.

Celebrations gradually spread to many of the large cities and after the War of 1812, when we again faced Great Britain in battle, celebrations became even more widespread. In 1870 the US Congress made the day a federal holiday, and in 1941 it was expanded to be a paid holiday for federal employees.

But no matter where it was celebrated, the 4^th of July has always included lots of noise, food and drink, and, whenever possible, fireworks. As a child I loved sparklers. A metal stick coated with a burning substance that, when lit, shot off white sparks and made a sizzling noise until it burned itself out at the bottom…much too soon. Our town’s fireworks were always held the Sunday after the 4^th as a way to close-out the Firemen’s Picnic, an annual carnival to raise money for the local volunteer fire department. Every town had one. You could go to a different one almost every weekend, if you wanted.

This year my husband and I will be celebrating at our cabin. Last year Laona’s fireworks were better than almost any we’d ever seen, with the exception of the year we were in Washington DC. All the small northern communities in the area pooled their resources and the display went on far longer than any other. I’m hoping they’ll out do themselves this year.

(Historical facts from history.com.)

We are in the heart of wedding season: beautiful brides and handsome grooms, lots of champagne and delicious cake, flowers, music and dancing. Each one is a celebration, a new beginning bright with promise.

Yes, I know, weddings are held all year round, but June has long been the traditional month to be wed. Do you know why June is such a popular month?

June is named for the ancient Roman Goddess Juno, daughter of Saturn, sister & wife of Jupiter, mother of Mars and Vulcan. Juno is the protector of women, most particularly in marriage and child bearing. It is considered good luck for a woman to be married in June. My own wedding was 38 years ago this month.

Last Saturday our nephew Josh married his love, Kellie. It was a beautiful day for an outdoor wedding, even when the rain started during the dinner. (Everything was held under cover. You only got wet if you wanted to…and some wanted to as the evening progressed.) With wildflowers and twinkle lights for decoration, they said their vows.

When did our children grow up? It seems only yesterday we were bringing them home from the hospital to show off to proud grandparents. It seems only yesterday we were seeing them off to school, watching them play sports, looking the other way when they took our car out alone for the first time…and now they’re marrying and having children of their own.

Congratulations Josh and Kellie!

May you have as many happy years together as your uncle and I have shared.

I’m a bookworm. I love books. I’ve always loved books. Since before I could read the words by myself, I’ve been enthralled by the realization that entire worlds existed between those covers; places I’d never been and people I didn’t know until that very moment lived on those pages. All I had to do was open the cover, read the words, and I’d be transported.

Then I started taking it one step further; I began writing the stories myself. I’d already been making up stories in my head for years, so it seemed the next logical step to want to put them to paper.

When people call me and others like me bookworms, they intend it to be something negative; or, at the very least, as a way of turning us into the butt of their jokes. They feel there’s something wrong with us for occasionally preferring a good book over the company of others. We’re nerds, eggheads, weirdoes…bookworms! Quite to the contrary, I think those who can enjoy the company of a good book from time to time are more well-rounded than those who are limited to the present moment of their own reality. The imagination is a truly marvelous thing.

Real bookworms, though, are indeed a negative creature. Despite this name we’ve given them, what we call bookworms are not worms at all. Actual book-boring insects are uncommon. There are a couple of moths who like to nibble at cloth bindings. There are several species of beetles that enjoy a nice leather to chew on. Some beetles will burrow through wood and paper, if the paper is near the wood. But a true book-eating insect would be the book or paper louse. Under 1mm in size, soft-bodied and wingless, they feed on microscopic molds and other organic matter that grows on ill-maintained paper. Their damage is most often found in very old books, treasures that have not been properly handled or stored and have fallen victim to moisture and the oils we carry on our skin. This is why old, rare, manuscripts are stored under special climate-controlled conditions, are handled very rarely, and then only by experts wearing gloves.

Books are always there when I need something to take me away from a bad day. Books are always there when I’m looking for a little adventure that won’t actually break my body into several pieces or land me in jail. Books are always there to transport me to somewhere, anywhere, that isn’t here. Books calm me when I’m frightened, and frighten me when I’m in the mood for a good scare. I can be anyone, go anywhere, with a good book.