Medical Leave of Absence

I'm taking a quick blogging break until Wednesday. I'm spending today and tomorrow having tests done at a hospital an hour away from home. We hope to finally get to the bottom of my health issues. Tomorrow's procedure is particularly uncomfortable and I'm a bit freaked out about it. Prayers appreciated.

Thanks to all of you for your support during these three long years of medical hassles. I really appreciate you!

~Tina

Distant Thunder

I'm in the midst of a storm,

though safe on the porch

That distant thunder,

cracks of LiGhTnInG...

won't touch me

personally

Not even the

B     nc      g

   ou     in

Hail

Will hurt

ME

But it hurts you,

Your thunderstorm

So personal

So unavoidable

You have no porch

there is no safety, YOU

are at their mercy (asifthereweresuchathingwheretheycomefrom)

You've done your part,

prepared for the storm,

ensured the safety -

of all in your charge

Yet it's never

ENOUGH

The storm pursues,

relentlessly

And absolutely

WILL NOT STOP

I can't stop it, either

though I long to,

and I'm in it

by choice

So I hold your hand, and

tuck you close,

and wait

WITH you.

It's what friends do.

As I sat on my porch watching a wondrous display of God's power, and praying the amazingly powerful storm helps the fires north and south of us here in Colorado, I couldn't help but think of two friends, each caught in their own storm. I'm helpless to fix anything, but I am there by their sides. Sometimes that's all you can do.

Double Butt-Bumpers, and Other Water Sports

It's a scorcher here today, 97 degrees.  It doesn't help that I have really special air-conditioning in my car. It works if I'm not accelerating. So I'm the crazy car pulling away from the light at supersonic speed, reaching cruising altitude, taking my foot off the gas, and THEN the fan blows again. Once I'm at speed, I can push ever so slightly on the gas, and the fan will keep blowing. However, I do most of my driving as a taxi-cab, so it isn't often I can really get the car cool. This totally reminds me of the (one) summer Farmor and Farfar came to visit from Sweden.

Up until the summer of 1976, they had always visited during the winter, but they wanted to try a summer in America. In Maryland. In the humidity. They didn't know what they were getting into. Sweden is a country where they count sun-days, as in, “The summer of '47 we had 16 sun-days.” As in the sun came out that day. A summer high is in the 70s.

It was a good thing that it was also the summer we got a family membership to a private swimming pool club nearby. We spent almost every day there. Farmor especially suffered from the heat. I remember giving up my seat in the front so that she could aim all the AC vents her way, but still, by the time we got to the pool, she'd be soaked. She'd get out of the car and declare, “Det är varmt I America!” It's warm in America. That is a saying we still use in our family. Farfar would reply, “Ja, något so collosalt!” Yes, so colossally! Can you imagine the climate change?

We did enjoy the pool. I learned to jump off the high dive. My sister and I invented double-butt bumpers. Bear with me here, use your imagination, and try to picture this. We hold hands, hold our breaths, we have our feet touching, and as we go under water, we try to bump our butts together. It's a trick with about a one in six chance of success. We tried forever before we ever hit our first one. Yes, this is weird. If you don't have a sister, or a brother, you probably won't ever understand where games like this come from.

We also learned to do somersaults underwater, how to swim the length of the pool in one breath, and how to stay cool during adult swim. We hated adult swim. We'd sit on the edge of the pool, like the good little girls we were (12 and 10) until the lifeguard starting flirting with the other lifeguard, and then we would lightning fast slide off the edge, dunk under water, and lickety split be back up on the edge picking our fingernails by the time they looked again. Only got caught once. “Sorry, I slipped.” “Don't “slip” again”.

It was a good summer, but the heat took it's toll on my beloved Grandparents. They didn't come back for a summer again, and we never had a pool membership again, but the phrase remains, “Det är varmt I America!” It sure was in Colorado today.

Do you like the heat, or are you heat phobic like me? Have you ever played ridiculous pool games with a sibling? Please tell...

The 45-Minute Waiting Area

I didn't think that there were people ruder than those I've met in my son's carline at his school. I was wrong. The people in the “45 Minute Waiting Area” at the airport are by far worse.

What's up with the 45 minutes anyway? Is that some magic time that represents how early most people are? Does it mean that when a flight arrives at a certain time, it's going to be 45 minutes until your pick-up-ee is standing at the curb ready for said pick-up? Or does it mean that there's some secret parking enforcement surveillance that will come after 45 minutes and send you on your way? Why not just call it the “you-won't-find-a-spot-here-because-I-used-up-three-so-that-my-girlfriend-could-watch-the-planes-land area”?

Or we could call it the “yes, I see that you're signaling and about to pull into that spot, so that's why I'm accelerating around you, will cut you off, and take that spot. Or “the I don't know how to park, and neither does the guy two spots away, so the spot between us will only fit a motorcycle.” Or maybe it could be the “if I drive up close enough to your bumper you'll move the extra 6” so that YOU'RE on the guy in front of you's bumper and none of us can move, should we get the magic call.” Pick one. Or name it all of them. Just don't make me wait there again.

When we finally did get the call (an hour after arriving), four cars had to move because they'd parked us in. There wasn't a lot of room left to maneuver. The parking lot had become like one of those 4x4 sliding puzzles where there are 15 tiles and you move them around to put them in order, only someone shoved a 16^th tile in there and now nothing's moving...

(photo credit wikipedie free images)

The fun wasn't over, though. After we picked up our friend, I was to drive her car home. She'd injured herself on her trip and couldn't walk. I also had to find that car. All was fine until I hit a dead end at West M. I was going for West N. I'd been heading down the alphabet from C just fine (I am rather familiar with the alphabet, right Gary?). Then no N. I wandered around a bit. Reminded me of that Seinfeld episode where Kramer is carrying the air-conditioner, Elaine has the goldfish, and Jerry ends up urinating in public.

Finally the airport parking enforcement (aHA! Please, head out to the waiting area from hell and kick some of those yahoos outta there, would ya'?) truck comes driving along. I flag them down and explain that I need N but the garage ends with M. One of them turns to the other and says,

“Do we have an N now?”

“Yup, it's in the other pod.”

“OK, how do I get there?”

“Oh, he'd better take you. It's kinda confusing. I'll stay here and finish up.”

So I get into the enforcement truck, and the man ATTEMPTS to help me find her car. We drive around for quite a while until he figures out how to get to “the other pod.” It's close by, but seeing it and finding a road/path to it are two different things.

We finally get over there, after several tries up and down the ramps, and we actually find the car! I was so relieved, and thought that the hard part of my day was over. But no, because the friend we picked up ended up needing the ER, so that's where I spent the night. But that's another post, if she'll let me. I was THIS close to laying down on the tile floor at 4:30 a.m...I'm too old to stay up that late. Especially after braving the waiting area, and the parking garage, and worries about my friend's health. I need a nap...

Do you have any travel/airport/parking lot horror stories? Or would you rather be in carline?

A Day in the Life

It's amazing to me what teenage boys do behind closed doors. Yes, I know, because they can no longer close the door. At least not if they want some of the flow of the swamp cooler to waft through the place, which even they realize is so necessary with FIVE of them crammed into The Transporters less than pristine room.

It's been absolutely hysterical to listen in on them. Not on purpose, I'm not that controlling of a mother, but I am in the next room. I like to write sitting on my bed, in my newly remodeled sanctuary. I hear everything that goes on next door.

They are the kings of multitasking. Usually, there's a computer going with Minecraft (amazing game, requires creativity and thought and that you build your own world to “play” in), each had a DS in hand, they've reverted to elementary school and are catching Pokemon and trading them. Much of the conversation revolves around each monster's particular attributes and the debate gets heated. Meanwhile, SoccerBoy usually has brought over his TV and XBOX so two of those complete systems are also up and running. They're playing Halo, while playing Pokemon, while talking, and not just among themselves, they're on XBOX live and I hear SkinnyBoy's voice! I don't know how they do it.

One day the conversation left Pokemon and went to, of all places, differences in the criminal justice system in the US verses Spain. Loved being a fly on the wall for that one. I'll sum it up by saying corruption knows no country boundaries, apparently. The consensus was that it's bad all over, with politicians getting away with whatever they want. What amazed me though is that all the clicking of controllers, sliding of styluses, and building of worlds ceased during the discussion. I wonder what other topics have made them stop everything to talk.

They stay in that room for hours. We're talking twelve straight. They feed themselves. The Transporter will fire up the grill and make everyone hotdogs. Or they'll order their own pizza. They won't remove the used paper plates or those pizza boxes from the room, though. Maybe it's some sort of shrine to go with all the empty Arnold Palmer tea bottles which are in a pyramid of sorts in one corner.

Many of them spend the night. On the last day of school we had six. The boy from Spain cracked me up. The other guys just stay in the same clothes for days on end as the cycle of gaming and talking and eating and multitasking begin for another round.  Not Mr. Spain, he wore “suit” pj's. You know, the shirt with buttons and matching pants. With piped seams. Very classy.

We were THE house where everyone has gathered since we moved into the neighborhood. It was my secret wish that even when they got into their late teen years, they'd still want to hang out here. I didn't think it would happen though because our basement is so Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang, and the upstairs not a lot better. They don't seem to care. I guess all they want is to be left to do what they want, and occasionally have something to eat to fuel the many tasks at hand.

What have you learned about the species of teenage boy in your travels? Are you THE house? Would you want to be?

IWSG: Not Insecure! But Need Help...

I'm NOT feeling insecure today! For the first time in a long time I've gotten to work on my book, and it's been amazingly fun.

My first novel is a space opera (I think), but it has a lot of sci-fi, and some double agent intrigue stuff. So one of my readers said, “space opera meets Tom Clancy” and that would work except I actually hate his books. They have too many tiny details. Love the movies though, and I think the action in Worlds Colliding (that link is for the post I wrote about finding the title) is a bit like those.

My story also has a love angle to it. So I've been saying space opera/sci-fi/double agents/romance and that's just too long. If I say space opera, does that include all of the above? Or is there another genre which better describes it? Carol Kilgore calls her books “crime fiction with a kiss”, which is so perfect. Short, sweet, and conveys the point. I want a phrase like that...any thoughts?

Here's the current version of my synopsis, tinkered with a bit since the W(h)IP It Good Blogfest.

In the last decades since First Earth got used up, technological advances have made life better for the inhabitants of Second Earth and its many orbiting colonies. However, corruption in government agencies, especially in the top levels, has not changed in centuries.

Leah has been slowly building a cover and infiltrating the TIA, as a double agent. Her mission is classified, and very personal.

With Ian as her lifeline to the FBI on First Earth, she's getting closer to the truth, and closer to the top rungs of the Titan Patrol. If she's honest with herself, she's probably too close to Ian, too.

Can she hold on? She's slowly succumbing to the pressure, and some of her old demons are coming back to haunt her. Will she be able to control her personal issues long enough to complete her assignment?

So yeah, please, what's my genre? 

***

Thank you, Alex J. "Ninja Captain" Cavanaugh for this group.  If you want to join, we post the first Wednesday of the month, and you'll find the linky in Alex's tabs.

Happy Monday! I am blessed!

I'm feeling really, really great today. Lots of reasons, and of course knowing me, you know I'm not going to be quiet about them...

On Sunday, I had the privilege of being the driver/cheerleader for The Swede as he participated in “Walking the Walk” for Parkinson's at one of our local parks. He did the longest loop available, and in HALF the time he had predicted. Yes, he has Parkinson's, but in no way is he letting it slow him down. He walks, hikes, bikes, snowshoes, cross-country skis and is driving to Maryland this summer. Go Dad!

I've also gotten some awards lately. Wow, people, I'm feeling so blessed! You'll see more awards posts in the coming weeks, but today it's:

The amazing Jo, of Jo on Food, My Travels and a Scent of Chocolate gifted me with the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers  award. 

If you've never visited Jo, you gotta go see her. She writes honestly and openly and is the only person I've met with an equal fondness for asparagus ;-) Yes, you get a recipe in each post. No, they're not ALL asparagus. Go say hi!

I'm to pass this on to 10-12 LADY blogger friends. You know, the whole sisterhood thing? Sorry guys.

I've met some amazing new bloggers on my road trip this year, reading reflections posts (yes Gary, I said the R word again...)and wandering around that large list of alphabet lovers. If you haven't met these lovely ladies yet, please go introduce yourself. If you know them, you know why I picked 'em.

Hilary of Positive Letters...inspirational stories... I love this lady. She feeds my history buff side, my culinary enthusiast side, and she is one DAMN good minion. She doesn't do awards though, so it's especially fun to give her one ;-). Again.

Carol Kilgore of Under the Tiki Hut, author of Solomon's Compass, which I can't wait to read, but it's BuNoWriMo and I've invited the world to kick me in the keister for not following through...so I will have to exercise DISCIPLINE and not read it yet.  Don't let that stop YOU, though.

Jenn of Jeneral Insanity (wear depends before you go...she will seriously crack you up)

M.J Joachim who has more blogs than you can count...and did the Challenge with them all, and is the queen of crochet (I'm sending you to the crochet blog...you'll find the rest from there)

Melissa of Melissa's Imaginarium. Ok, I did know her before this year, but we reconnected. She's an inspiration in her personal achievements, and her books are delicious. Adults only :-)

The rest go to my amazing co-host sisters:

Shannon at The Warrior Muse. Third challenge and counting. INVENTOR of the Road Trip buddy and all-around amazing gal. Another place where I get my history-buff fix.

L.Diane Wolfe of Spunk on a Stick. Let me tell ya', she's one spunky lady. Her book of publishing tips is AMAZING. Go buy it. It will make you want to finish that WIP.

Nicole of The Madlab Post. Movie maker AND writer AND blogger, AND able to leap tall deadlines in a single bound without internet, on her Smartphone. She rocks. 

Damyanti of Amlokiblogs. Perseveres through tragedy and an inspiration to us all. Still praying for you.

Konstanz Silverbow of No Thought 2 Small. Great, supportive buddy and is publishing her first novel! Go K! And if you need weapons advice, she's your girl. Like if you want to maim a teenager or anything...not that I do right now...

Livia Petersen of Leave it to Livia. It was such a crazy year we didn't really get a chance to get to know each other, but she loves movies, and now that that we're done with the craziness of April, and the hangover of May, maybe we'll get a chance to chat. Hoping so anyway :-)

So yeah. Dad is doing great and people like me. They really like me. (Name the quote for 10 extra points) (not that anyone is counting) (because I'm not competitive or anything) (ok, say goodnight, Gracie) (you could name that one too...)

~Tina