A Risk Worth Taking?

The other day my daughter stated, "Whoa! Listen to this. When someone appears in your dreams, it's because that person misses you!." She asked if I thought this was true. After all, it had been tweeted from @MindBlowingFacts (or some such account on Twitter). "Does the world really work like that? Does that kind of energy between people exist?" Her blue eyes were wide with hope.

Wouldn't it be nice to believe that? Wouldn't it be even nicer, if it were true? Not knowing if her declaration was rooted in a new-found crush or a renewed interest in someone from her past, and not wanting to influence any possible actions on her part that might lead to some unrequited declarations of love, I opted to answer with a left-brained approach.

First of all, I told her, if you're dreaming of someone, then most likely, it is because either YOU'RE the one that misses them, or you have unfinished business, or you have a mind that tends to wander. There is absolutely no way of knowing or proving if it is also because they miss you, unless you want to explore that possibility by sounding like a crazy person when you ask them. Second of all, dreams happen all the time, but not all of them hold much meaning. For example, the other night I dreamed about a bag of Hostess powdered donuts. Yes, Hostess Donuts. They were sitting on a small round table in front of me. And an old friend in the dream was asking me if I wanted one. I am quite certain that while I miss those bite-sized powdered donuts from Hostess, it is doubtful that they were thinking of me. Even more doubtful that the old friend had any interest in my dietary preferences or inclinations at 3am.

But my daughter can be relentless. And she wasn't impressed by my donut dream. A couple hours later she said, "Guess what, Mom. Here is another Mind Blowing Fact. If you are thinking about someone all the time, then there is an 80% chance that the other person is thinking about you, too." With a laugh, she asked me what I thought about THIS tweet -- another one from her Go-To Source for Advice on Life on Twitter.

Looking at her, I wanted to proceed with my answer carefully. With some 40+ years behind me, and some 40+ years yet to be lived by her, I wondered whom she might be thinking about. If her crush were being returned. If there were any way of finding out if this Tweeted Fact might be true.

At first, I didn't have an answer to her second question. Was it likely that the main reason you thought of one person incessantly was due to the fact that they were also thinking of you? Was fate so sadistic that two people such as this would go on thinking of each other throughout the rest of their lives, being left with the other only in their thoughts? Or would one eventually break the silence and embrace the irrationality of their obsession by trying to bridge the gap and reach out? The writer in me voiced, Sounds like a great story for fiction!

As I said before, I wondered if I could shield her from the disappointment that sometimes follows from taking risks?

No. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't. In the end, my answer was simply this. "Anything is possible." Boring, I know. And not earth-shattering in any way. But I hoped it was general enough to help her nudge open the door to opportunity, if that was what she wanted. After all, I do want her take some risks. Some risks do lead to rewards.

As writers, we force our characters to take risks all the time. Should life be any different? IS life any different? In the end, I suppose not. Because in the end, fiction is written around characters that live through situations that readers can relate to; and characters face risks that readers should ultimately understand.

Does life have risk? I hope so. Although realistically, I hope it's the least foolish ones that gain our attention. Which begs the question, Where is the risk in that?

On that, all I can say is, I have absolutely no idea. I'm hoping that my daughter's Twitter friend will have the answer. And that she will be forging blissfully through life, happy with the risks she's taking on her own.

What do you think? Where lie the limits to the power of the mind? Where lie the limits to risk?

Ready for Spring

“Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world.” --Virgil Kraft

The crocuses are blooming, the sky has returned to its pure bright blue, and once again, my heart is smiling when it wakes with the day. Yes, I do love spring time. It always seems to come just when I think I may float away with the obscurity of too many days of gray.

Hello, Spring!


 

Fixing Up Fridays

Hello again! It seems like I haven't been here a while. Since it's Friday and I feel like I finally might be coming up for air after a whirlwind tour in stupidity and the details of life, I thought I'd share a video that is akin to how I'm feeling. Plus, it's worth a good laugh.



As for the rest of this post, a few Friday's ago I thought I'd close the week on Friday with a recommendation of a book, a recipe, and a drink. The book is easy. Right now I'm in the middle of The False Prince by Jennifer Nielsen. It's a quick read and entertainning for young readers or the young at heart like me. My son read this book recently and liked it, so I thought I'd give it a go. So far, so good. Although I must say, I am starting to develop a pet peeve for books for young readers that have violence in them (one of the kids in this book is murdered within the first few chapters.) I don't get it. Is this really what our literature for young readers has come to? Are we as a society unable to identify with any else? Nevertheless, the story is good. Thus, the dilemma to my thoughts.

Moving on to food. Tonight I shall be travelling to see our local high school basketball team (Mountain Crest) battle it out with another local high school basketball team (Logan High) for some sort of semi-final match. What does one eat when one must travel during dinner time for such occasions? I don't know. Probably nothing, which is why there will be no recipe with this post. On second thought, if you're in rush like me, there is this thing called Bruschetta, which involves topping sliced bread with tomato, garlic, basil and mozzarella, and sticking it in the oven at 400 degrees for 8 minutes. How's that for a recipe that you can literally run with? Here's a pic where I actually had time to make it look pretty. And yes, it is almost waving at you like a flag, because I didn't have time to flip the pic.

The drink? The other day I enjoyed mixing Pomegrante Juice and Lemonade. And no, Chef John, it wasn't fresh-squeezed. :)  (He likes the good stuff, and has reprimanded me on this topic in the past.)  The drink is Quite yummy with a splash of, well.... let's keep it Rated G and call it 7-UP.

Any one seeing Jack the Giant Slayer this weekend?

 

On sailing, on life

The great thing about sailing is that you can sail into the wind, with it blowing across the bow at you, or you sail with the wind at your back....

Either way, you shall arrive at your destination.
 

Steven Tyler

Today a student looked at the author photo at the back of my new book coming out in June and told me I looked exactly like Steven Tyler....

While I LOVE Steven Tyler, I am not sure if he was paying me a compliment or not....
What do you think?
A simple yes or no vote will do.
A phone call from Steven himself will earn him a treat at Twizzleberry.
(Irresistable, I know)
:)

Happy Halloween!

Top 5 reasons to love St. George in October.

1. Warm weather! After missing out on the sunny skies last weekend due to a video project that came up, I was rewarded with great weather for the last weekend of the month. It worked out perfectly since Eric was playing baseball all weekend.

2. Palm trees. Life can't be too bad, when you've got palm trees right outside the hotel room door.

3. Kneaders! Need I say more? The boys were treated to their first Kneaders soups and sandwiches. YUM!

4. 50% on Saturday nights at Kneaders. Yes, we returned for dinner here on the second night. I asked the cashier if he'd rung up the bill wrong, because it seemed way too low.... but surprise, surprise! It was 50% off! We immediately ordered seconds on dessert.

5. Finding a reason NOT to give up chocolate. ...At least, Kneader's chocolate.... After giving up beer and then coffee this year, I thought I might be ready to add chocolate to the list. But then I had one of those chocolate mint brownies from Kneaders. My son had ordered it, and I tasted it--reluctantly, because I wasn't sure I'd like it. Wham! I was wrong. Now I know what heavenly chocolate should taste like. And the timing couldn't be better, because all those Hershey's treats waiting to be given out at the door tonight definitely don't measures up. Woot!

6. Okay, so I know I was only going to give 5 reasons to like St. George, but here's another: scary movies to entertain us at night in the hotel room. Tis the season.

Trick or Treat!
Happy Halloween!

Moose!!! Or, Batty Moosen!!!

My youngest son captured this photo while standing on the roof of my truck. Meanwhile, my other son and daughter warned us of the dangers of unpredicatable, charging meeses, or mooses, or specifically, the moosen we were capturing with our digital camera.

But he and I feared not.

As far as mooses go, this was a small moose.

And as far the English language goes, I think it needs to take care of words like moose, which for some reason don't like to be associated with plurals. If I had followed the rules, I would have repeated the word moose far too many times in the paragraphs above, driving my readers batty.

Challenge for the Week....

Do something different, something you wouldn't ordinarily do, just for the heck of it.

What have you got to lose?

Not the experience. That, you get to take with you.

Dear Santa, ...



Signs

There are so many different types of signs.

Stop signs.

Street signs.

Warning signs.

Signs of love.

Signs of hate.

Signs of the times.

Good signs.

Bad signs.

Hand signs.

Plus signs.

Reading-between-the-lines signs......................

It seems to me that there should be a rule that when you come across one--at least, a really important one--then, some sort of instructions should come with it. Kind of like a sign with the sign. An interpretation. An explanation. A footnote.

Because I've been told SO many times that the Lord, and Fate, and Karma, and WhoKnowsWhatElse work in mysterious ways. And usually, those works are shown in signs. The Trick is knowing when you're getting one, or seeing one--a real-live, relevant sign from some other Power That Be. It all seems so nice, doesn't it? So comforting. So-glad-to-know-someone's-looking-out-for-me.

The problem is, that throughout the course of the day, or the week, or the month, or the year, I'm bombarded with signs. Some of them I follow. Some of them, like this one, I shouldn't (long story). But I worry that most of them--the ones that might be worth noting--I probably just miss. And the ones I do come across, I don't know what what to think about, or if I should think about them at all. Like the crystal blue forget-me-not found on a bench, or the flying 50-pound chimney cover that missed my head by an inch.

I guess it shouldn't matter. Some signs are easier to follow than others. And if someone IS looking out for me, planting signs, some of which I see, and eventually, I end up in the places I'm supposed to be, then maybe I don't need those directions with the signs, afterall. Maybe I'll just settle into being comfortable, bumbling along, enjoying what it means to be me.

Mark Twain....

has not

lost his touch

with the ladies....

I guess it's only fitting that these latest escapades happened while I was at a writer's retreat deep in the mountains somewhere near a place called Wolf Creek. Obviously, Mr. Twain was not in attendance given his current occupation in attending to other distractions.....

Stay tuned. More details to follow, as they become available....

Through a child's eyes

Recently, my son and I were having some sort of discussion centered on what we would do if we could do anything. Our ideas were far-flung. Learn to fly like a bird. Swim like a dolpin. Sail the world. Eat a billion gallons of ice cream.

Then, of course, I got silly and decided to dream smaller. More tiny. Focus on something I could nearly pinch between my fingers. Rather than wish for something as grandiose as sailing the world, I'd just get one freckle removed. Specifically, I'd get rid of the small blotch above my right eye. An age spot I seem to have acquired after finding too many ways to have fun outside.

My son looked at me like I was crazy. "Why would you want to do that?"

I asked why he was concerned--if he was worried I might actually get rid of it. If he'd miss that freckle when it was gone.

"Well, it's in the shape of a heart," he replied. "I like it."

In all the times I've spent looking in the mirror, getting ready for work, or wondering how I might lighten that blotch, I never realized there might be something good about it. Something to like. In that moment, as simple and trivial as it may seem, I actually felt better about myself. Some say I wear my heart on my sleeve. I never thought I might being toting a tiny bit of it above my right eyebrow.

Later, I began thinking about the pure and beautiful outlook kids have for the world.... What if more people made the effort to see things in a better light? Find the good in bad situations? Find the good in others and then share that opinion?

What if we didn't assume people whom we care about knew all the good things and reasons we have for liking them? What if we voiced those thoughts? Wouldn't that goodness go forth like a ripple?

I like to think it would.

Maybe life really does come down to the little things. Maybe changing the world for the better or helping people heal inside and out doesn't really take so much effort. Maybe it just starts with something as simple as telling someone you like that divet in their forehead, the curve of their smile, or that constellation of agespots streaming their way over their eyes.

The Power of Pink

Recently, I tasted the color of pink, thanks to a frosting from Pillsbury. Although the flavor was called "pink vanilla," it was definitely heavy on "pink" and light on vanilla.... Life just gets fuller all the time, doesn't it? Because where would I be without the opportunity to contemplate the power of pink?

After reviewing the facts, I've realize I haven't given PINK the respect it deserves. More so, I've totally underestimated it.

Not only does pink have it's own flower,

it has its own fragrance from Victoria's Secret. Want to know what PINK smells like? Check it out at your nearest VS or Bath & Body Works store. This shower gel is one of my all-time favorites.

And who doesn't know what this pink ribbon stands for?

Or who owns this car?

Or, what a "pink slip" means? (Yikes!)

Pink even has its own celebrity musician.

If that isn't enough to show pink's new-found power in the world, then take a look at this...................................................

Pink construction equipment!

Whoot!

Now if only I could find myself a pink lawnmower. Or even, a pink hammer. Or, a pink power-drill. Surely, this world has room for one of those, if not all of them. Connections, anyone? Because I'm tickled pink at the thought.

New experiences

Vacation has been absolutely incredible. The weather is perfect and events of the past week so far have proved that we're never too old to experience new things. Some of my "firsts" are:

-- seeing five loons swimming on the lake together in front of our cabin

-- watching a big turtle climb up on the deck at the back of a boat to sun himself

-- taking a ride on dad's new sailboat....awesome! Love it.

-- finding out I really do know how to sail a boat, despite the doubts of all my years

-- witnessing the look on dad's face as my daughter cast his new rod and reel into the lake after he'd just taught her how to use it.... the only thing he forgot to tell her was "to hold onto the rod"...

-- fileting first pair of fishes, thanks to the idea of sons who want to eat what they catch

We'll see what the rest of the week brings us.

Signs of Summer

The official list.....

1. It may not seem possible that flip-flops on snow could be listed as a sign of summer, but for me, it is. After enduring an unreasonably long, cold, wet spring, my daughter and I found both sun and snow in Colorado over Memorial Day weekend. With a free day to do whatever we pleased before the soccer tournament, we headed up to Rocky Mountain National Park where they had plenty of snow and 90 degrees of heat--which is why we were wearing flip-flops.

It worked out great, actually, because I'd never hiked on snow in a pair of flip-flops before. And I never would have thought I'd enjoy it. But I did. Not only was it refreshing, but it tickled my feet, which made me laugh as I ran through it on tip-toes....all the better in my opinion.

2. Being chased by kids for a car wash....not that they had the wash-thing down--just the sign, which they found in a nearby field.

3. Boys on rope swings on the Blacksmith Fork River. Oh! to be young again.

4. Baseball......and more baseball. 4 days a week. Need I say more?

5. Movies! All the good ones are coming out. Prince of Perisa was fun. And so was Shrek. And Iron Man 2.

Which leads me to my next topic. I'll be brief....

Titles.

My daughter's friend recently commented that he went to see the movie, Killers. Based on the previews, he thought it was going to be a romantic comedy. Not having seen the previews myself, I thought he was kidding. Afterall, the movie was called, Killers. But no, he was serious. "Everyone wound up getting killed, in all sorts of horrible and different ways," he said. "It was bad. Not what I expected."

?!? Not what he expected !?!

Okay. So maybe the movie delivered what it promised. You can't be any more clear with a title like Killers. But in support of our seemingly clueless friend, I did see the preview after our conversation, and it really does look like the movie is going to deliever lots of laughs. So, until I see the movie myself, I guess I have to give him the benefit of the doubt and accept his surprise. Because it's funnier that way.

And besides, as I've discovered, there are movies that do seem to offer different content that what you would assume you're going to get.

For example, 1408 is not a historical drama (it's a ghost story). And The Secret Life of Bees is not a documentary.

Silly, I know.

One more thing....If America is missing the Statue of Liberty, I saw her in the back of truck on Highway 7, heading south, near Boulder. ... Just passing that information along, in case anyone was wondering.

What were they thinking? (Patriots)

Okay, so I turned off the game and sent the boys to bed, so that I could watch my movie (Nights in Rodanthe--yes, it was good) before it got too far past my bedtime. After all, with 2:38 minutes left and a 13-point lead, and Tom Brady handling things, while Peyton and crew seemed to mangle key plays, I thought all would be well. And so did my boys. They marched off to bed in good faith.

However, I lost all credibility on the football front when my youngest brought in the morning paper and asked through a veil of confusion, "Who lost by one point last night? Was it the Colts?"

He was trying to sound hopeful.

I spun from my desk.

"One point! Did you say, one point! They had been leading by 13! With two minutes left to play!"

But I knew before I even snatched up the paper, deciphered the meaning behind the amazing photograph of Reggie Wayne's catch, that I should not have doubted Peyton. I knew he was capable of amazing come-backs such as this. After all, the announcer had reminded me so on their last failed drive before I clicked off the TV with confidence.

I won't doubt him again. Watching those two drives would have been fun. (Don't tell my sister. She's a true Patriot fan.) Me? I just hate missing out a good game. What was I thinking?

Sights are on the playoffs for sure.

Survivor!

Yes, I survived. Or, rather, we. My daughter and I, when we rode the Big Shot on top of the Stratosphere in Las Vegas last weekend.

We were there for the Las Vegas Mayor's Cup soccer tournament that her team was playing in, and a friend had suggested we take that ride on the Big Shot, or at least get to the top of the Strat for the view. Lucky for us, these plans became part of the team's agenda for Saturday night, since they didn't have an early game scheduled for Sunday morning.


But as the captured Kodak-moment shows, even 4Gs of being shot 160 feet upward at 45 miles an hour isn't quite enough to zap my brain into motion. It took more than a few moments for me to realize, that yes, we were indeed moving, possibly and quite quickly, toward death. And by the time I was in full comprehension of my experience--that I may not survive--the zero-G's bestowed on us as we plummeted back downward kept me from vocalizing any of the sheer terror I felt in comprehending that there really was NO WAY off until it was over.

But of course, once it was done, I kind of wished I could do it a second time. And maybe a third.... What's up with that?

All in all, getting away to Las Vegas was great. The sun was warm enough to kiss my skin, the soccer games well-played and enjoyable to watch, the watershow at the Bellagio perfectly timed to impress upon my teenage daughter that I really might have clue as to what we were doing as we toured the strip, and the singing bus driver on route to the terminal was fabulous enough to end the weekend with a smile. Although the singing vacuum cleaner--i.e., the fellow who was riding a motorized vacuum cleaner at the SLC airport while singing Kumbaya upon our return--left me a bit perplexed over the intricacies of human nature.


As for daily life, the sun and warm weather have returned for at least a few more days in northern Utah before the snow truly starts to fly for good. Although I like to ski, here's hoping the sun will stick around for a little while longer.

Finding Inspiration in Kokanee Salmon

A couple weeks ago I took my kids to see the bright red kokanee salmon making their way upstream in the Little Bear River above Porcupine Reservoir. As I watched these beautiful fish swimming among the rocks in the shallow water, I struggled with wondering what sort of inspiration could be drawn for both life and writing from a journey in which a fish returns to its hatching grounds after a few short years of life solely to spawn and die. What drives that undeniable urge? And why?

Although as humans, we're nothing like fish, I've come to realize that in some ways we may mirror this behavior when we allow ourselves to give in to that gut-wrenching pull toward something or someone we like in hopes that the journey forward will lead us to a place that resembles our roots, shapes the foundation of our soul, and sharpens our senses to the point of knowing what it means to truly be alive. So that at the end of it all, we can say, yes, life's ultimate journey was worth it, even if we did get battered among the rocks along the way. Because feeling something is the first step toward believing, and believing in something provides the purpose for moving forward, even if we're swimming against the current and dodging all sorts of debris coming our way.

For me, I want to believe that the ultimate journey will have been about love. I want to be able to say that I held on to it when it was found. That I did everything I could to make it grow, and that in doing so, in sharing it with those around me, made my corner of the world a better place.

Last week, I came across a quote I liked from Souza. Here's part of it:

Love as though you've never been hurt before....Live as though heaven were on earth.

One experience you won't want to miss

You must, without a doubt, go to youtube and check out this video of Susan Boyle singing on Britian's Got Talent. WOW Wow wow wow. This is one you won't tire of watching. It simply brings a smile to my lips, my soul, my heart. Pass it along!

I love it when taking a break from the rewriting of a novel brings such pleasant surprise.

Cheers!

I Challenge Thee....

Well, maybe not thee.


He.


I challenge HE.


Mr. Groundhog. To a duel.


Because that furry, brown rascal brought winter back to my door. And just to make sure I hadn't forgotten what winter looks like, he brought a whopping two feet of it.


This is how it went:


I woke this morning and had to shovel through 10 inches to get to my truck. Something I was not expecting at all, so in order to even begin, I had to march back inside and get my snowboots. I felt so juvenille...wearing snowboots to work. Big, black rubber ones, with a not-so-attractive, tan-suede upper. Any way you work it, black rubber does not make beautiful footwear. But it does keep the toes warm and dry, which makes the day doable.


But I digress. Because after coming home from work, I had to trudge through another 10 inches to get to my house.


Yeah, I know. Ten plus 10 does not add up to two feet. But, given the fact that it's still snowing, I think I can take the liberty of tacking on a few inches. Plus, I still need to go out again.


But before I do, I'm leaning toward curling up with a cup of hot chocoloate and watching the snow fall a little bit more. And then, maybe if I'm really comfortable, I'll wait and sit around, watching and waiting for the snow melt.

Ciao!