Of course you're not going to get some love-sick teaser from me today! No, no, no. :-) Actually, I really can't post any kind of kissing scene from PA because that would give away too many things. But, I can bring you relationship building and bloody, dead things. Because that's Laura and Gray for you.

He had a head and he didn’t have a diamond studded knife protruding from his heart. So he couldn’t be dead.

But he was.

A steady drip, drip, drip had been sounding since she knelt beside him. She’d filed the noise under dripping water at first. It hadn't been long since the rain stopped. It sounded thicker to her ears now. Scanning his entire body she caught the pop of the next drop as it hit his boot. When she looked up, she found the cause of the drippy faucet and let out a yelp as she jumped back.

A headless Wōden soldier lay above them, sprawled across the edge of the rock cropping. A headless dripping stump. She gulped in a gasp, her throat burning with the trapped air. Okay. Yeah. Time to go. She scrambled to her feet, her hands slipping through the bloody mud. A hiccup erupted sending a sharp pain through her chest.

Her instincts screamed at her,  “Run!”

She took her first step, her boot sinking deep. She yanked, pulling a muscle in her thigh when it slurped loose. As her heart rate reached the heavens, Gray snatched her, yanking her over to Erin. He turned her to face him and shook her a few times. “Listen,” he said. “I called Micah and they’re on their way.”

“There’s a headless man up there!”

“There’s more than one.”

“There's more than one?”

“Yes. I just need you to watch over Erin while I lead Micah back here. Just keep her warm and protected, okay?”

“There are headless, dripping people up there!”

He shook her again. “Just stop. Freaking out isn’t on your to-do list. I know what’s up there but we have to get Erin healed before we can deal with the dead things. Understand?”

She nodded numbly.

“Keep calm,” he said. “Keep her warm. Keep her safe. That’s all you have to do.”

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You get one chance so make it count.  14 years ago I was a 19 year old girl--scared, in pain, and drowning in the fluid that was rapidly filling my lungs. I was in acute heart failure. 14 years ago they said I wouldn't make it. They said if I did survive I'd be on meds for the rest of my life, unless I was lucky enough to get a heart transplant. 

They were wrong. They were wrong. They were wrong.

No one's crying over the wrongness of their predictions. Or, I mean, not many are crying over it. ;-) Today, because of awareness and research, a woman diagnosed with PPCM has a way better prognosis.

But 14 years ago I didn't have a voice. Today I do.  Every woman should know the signs of Peripartum Cardiomyopathy.  Why? Because every woman is at risk and your baby doctor just might not be paying attention. After all, it was my newborn's pediatrician that diagnosed me and saved my life. Why didn't my baby doctor know what was going on? Pish. Well, she wasn't my choice since I was using a midwife, but when the signs were there I was sent to one. She said I was an overreacting baby.

Know the signs. You're the best person to know what's going on with your body. Even if you've already had your baby you are still at risk.

Symptoms include:

• Breathing difficulty when lying flat
• Shortness of breath on exertion
• Swelling
• Frequent night-time urination
• Cough
• Excessive weight gain in final month of pregnancy
• Heart palpitations
• Chest pain
• Enlarged left heart ventricle

This month is national women's heart health awareness and this Friday is the "official" day to wear red. Do it for your mom. Do it for your sister. Your friend. Do it for me. Do it for yourself.

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I'm not here today, but I'm doing a guest spot over at Fifty Authors From Fifty States. I talk about my love for my state and how the beauty and mystery of Arkansas influences my writing.  Stop by. Drop me a line!  And as a bonus, I believe prizes are going out to random folks who comment.

Fifty Authors From Fifty States

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The winner of Fur-Face by Jon Gibbs was goadingthepen. Super congrats to her!

Lost in despair, Alexis teeters on the edge of an abyss, her lifeline of hope fraying into a thin thread. If it snaps, she’ll plunge into complete darkness. With the help of her son and her writing, she’s been able to hold on. Until now. Erratic impulses, disturbing delusions and her own demonic blood threaten her sanity. When she’s forced to choose between hanging onto hope or letting go to serve her Amadis purposes, she faces a decision with inconceivable sacrifices.

Alexis runs to the one place she thinks will provide answers, only to find herself at the center of another battle of good versus evil, not only with the Daemoni, not only within herself…but also against the worst opponent imaginable. But even if she wins, what will she lose?

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We're rolling through Book Launch Week for .  We've given away tons of stuff! But we're nowhere near finished.  Today it's another awesome book giveaway!

Want to enter our Kindle Contest?  You can do so at meredithwood.com

Fur-Face is available for purchase at the following sites:

Amazon

Barnes&Noble

OmniLit

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While the Kindle Contest will run all week Monday's prize will be a free signed "Somewhere in Between" T-shirt! Email me at [email protected] with your name and you're entered. I'll contact the winner via email Tuesday around noon.

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From January 15th- January 22nd order the mass market paperback of  through my website and get free shipping plus automatically be entered to Win a Free Kindle!

Just click on the link I've provided to find out how you can enter!

http://www.meredithwood.com/

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All next week I'll be posting different contests and ways to win lovely things. Before the party begins, though, I wanted to take the time to talk about something serious regarding the book. Hopefully we'll see you at the web party this week. :-)

Each book I write is like a snowflake. No two are created the same way and no two come to me by the same path. I’ve had stories appear to me in which I’ve had to create a character to fit the story line. I’ve had characters come to me with voices so strong a story had to be developed for them.

Rowan came to me one summer evening while I washed the dinner dishes. She was like a soft, painful whisper. Usually I’ll sit down and write a piece full of the character’s raw emotion when something like this happens. Later, I create a story around the character’s pain. Rowan was different. As I tried to write her pain, her story unfolded on its own. I realized I couldn’t reach the center of Rowan until I told her story and unlocked her secrets.

Somewhere in Between was written with a hand full of love. It’s raw and was left raw, intentionally. I cannot tell you how excited I am to see it finally published and available to the public. I hope when you open the pages you immediately step into Rowan’s shoes. I hope it makes you cry at some point. I hope it makes you laugh at other times.

As a mother I also hope any adults who read this book receive a special gift: remembering Rowan’s age. Because pain is just as real at Rowan’s age as it is at any age. With my own mom-rating I would rate Somewhere in Between at ages 10 and above.

If you’re dealing with your own grief and pain of loss I hope you’re able to find hope in Rowan’s struggle. Losing someone you love hurts. There are times you feel as though you’ll never be able to take a clean, full breath again.

Grief doesn’t have a timeline and I hope in reading Somewhere in Between you discover that you not only have so many options for working through the pain in a healthy way but you don't have to go through it on your own. You have help out there. Talk to your school counselor. Talk to a teacher. You can also call The Grief Recovery Institute (U.S.A.) 1-800-445-4808 to speak to someone trained to deal specifically with your pain.

May God keep you and Bless you,

Meredith Wood

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This month is just a very crazy month for me.  I'm not complaining at all. This is because January usually sucks and drags along. True, February is worse and even though it is the shortest month it always feels like the longest. lol

Sunday night we got some snow and my LJ friends know from experience that when we get snow down here in the South we stop everything and go play in it. It's mandatory. No, it doesn't matter what needs to be done. It's snow and snow is to be played in quickly before it melts.   :-)

Yesterday my Roo stayed home sick with a sore throat.  I'm not sure if she had a fever since the battery was dead in my temporal scanner.  And let me get off on a tangent here. Why, I ask, do they put a 9-volt in those things? Nothing around the house uses a 9-volt so of course I don't keep them around.  Matter of fact the last time I used 9-volts were for the baby monitors.  I think this is some sort of conspiracy between the battery people and the baby product making people. Anyhoo, by the time I got a new battery in it she didn't have a fever.  She is home today as well but seems to be on the mend.  My fingers are crossed this isn't about to be a round of strep for my household.

I also wasn't feeling all that spiffy yesterday.  Not good.

Moving on now to what's coming this month. I'll have the winners or winner of the MMRA contest soon. Keep checking back for this. ;-)

I have a virtual launch party for Somewhere in Between scheduled to start this coming Sat. morning.  Gifts will include T-shirts, books, bookbags, and a Kindle. Keep an eye out for ways you can participate. And ways you can help, if you're feeling generous. ;-)

I have interviews and guest blogs scheduled for later this month, one in particular will be the 50 Authors Across 50 States. 

Oh, yeah, I have laundry, cooking, cleaning, mothering, and writing to do as well.

Things we've decided about the coming year:
My husband will NOT be coaching ball this year. We want a break. Roo says she isn't even playing. Now my oldest (14) will because there is just no way she won't play softball.  My son still plans to play baseball.  What I think Joe and I will get out of this break is time to camp, fish, hike, and explore the outdoors during the cooler months of the summer instead of spending the time at the ball fields. We'll also have time to play ball in our own backyard with our kids. Way more fun than at the ball fields. lol  Roo says she's excited about being able to help me in the garden more.  I will also have more time to help her with basketball since I won't be working on a team of softball players.

Spring needs to hurry up and get here because I'm making big plans for it. lol

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It's under way. Join the fun this year and send me your first two pages of a manuscript. Use this as a way to test out that NaNo novel.

Email:  [email protected]

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I am shaky I'm so pleased with this!  I uploaded backwards so the cover shows first. lol

Cover art credit to Gemini Judson.

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The annual MMRA contest is about to start! I hope you have something good planned out for me. :-)

The dates for 2011 contest will be January 6,7,8,9.  During those four days, I will be accepting the first two pages of any writer’s novel at the email address: makemeread (at) gmail (dot) com. 

Here are the rules:

In the subject line of your email put MMRA.  Inside your email, tell me your name and, if it places, whether I am allowed to post your entry on my blog.  A link to your own blog or website is great.  That way if you do place I can link to you.


A small Panthan's Abyss Teaser is up next. Since I yanked this from the middle of a scene, we're in Laura's POV here.  The first paragraph is full of her internal thoughts and opinions on Gray during their conversation.


Not even the anomaly that she was could keep his attention long. He was pissed and determined to stay that way. Too bad Erin and Dalton were on the human side tonight. She lacked the patience it took to baby Gray when he got like this.

“He’s up to something.” He wagged his finger in her direction again. “I don’t know what but I’ll find out.” Frowning, he shook his head, hesitated, then shook it again. “Surely not,” he said in an incredulous voice.

“Surely not what?” she asked.

“Do you think he’s found another heir?”

She made a sound of disbelief. “No. Who else would it be? You’re the only blood relation left.”

“Unless he’s made another. He’s a far cry from ancient you know.”

“Well, yeah, you’re right. However, our Micah would never create another being out of wedlock so at the risk of your going ballistic on me I’m going to tell you that you’re over reacting.”

He glared at her. “If you’re going to insult me at least use words I can understand.”

It was a shame he’d never taken to humans with the same obsession his sister Erin had. Laura never had trouble getting her to understand anything. “Which word threw you?”

“Ballistic. Is it an insult to my gender? A play on my anatomy?”

“No.” She sat on her couch. “Even a female can go ballistic. It’s another word for berserk.”

He rolled his eyes. “And why use the words “threw you”?”

She shrugged. He was beyond comfort right then and cranky because of it. Whatever. She continued to stare while he drove his anger from one end of her living room to the next.

“We have been here from the beginning,” he said, his tone soft and out of sorts with his body language. “Before the earth. Before the humans.”

She kept silent, not knowing what his words had to do with his current problem, but she didn’t want to ask either. It seemed rude. Who knew the many places hurt and rage could take a mind?

“If it hadn’t been for the humans,” he said, “I wouldn’t be in this situation. I wouldn’t be feeling these things. We wouldn’t have kings or heirs and no one creature would be set above another.”

“So you think the root of all evil is humans?”

“I didn’t say that. How can I say that when part of my making is to love and protect them?”

“I don’t really know what you’re trying to say. I think—”

He gestured for her to be quiet, waving his hand, a deep frown on his face.

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Everyone keeps looking back on this past year. I really don't wanna. It was busy, crazy, stressful and well, you know how it went.

My first book was released this year though! YAY!!! I remember Joe telling me 2010 would be my year. After that everything started to blur and blend together.

I gained 10 pounds. That sucks. So, yeah, I'm on a diet.

I'm looking forward to a new year. Imagine the possibilities!

The sad thing about New Years for me is I've never really been the type to have "traditions".  It just goes against my natural rebellious side. But all this talk about traditions has made me re-think my thoughts on it. I really do have a few traditions and they have to do with writing. Can you believe that? Then again writing is probably the only structured thing I do in my life. lol

Every New Year's Eve for the past several years I've been writing at the stroke of midnight. It's just how I bring the New Year in. I also realized that every time I finish a book my daughters and I go out to eat Chinese. Every book. Every time.

So there you have it. It's not much but it's a few traditions.

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First off, tolerate me, please, while I talk to myself here.  What I'm wondering is if it would be terribly wrong of me to set PA aside and finish Push first instead. Okay, yes, I have an audience waiting on PA. I know this. I swear I know it. And I know it's very important that I don't let them down. But Shannon won't shut up! And every song I hear brings more scenes and images for her story. *Big Sigh*

I mean I have plenty of scenes for PA in my head but *stamps foot* I want to write about Shannon. I want to. I want to!

This means one thing. I need to up the stakes for Laura. I am not letting myself get emotionally involved in her storyline because I'm not digging deep enough to unlock her emotions. This spells out a big problem for my book.

Thank you for letting me ramble. I'll return to plotting and writing PA now that I've figured out what was wrong.

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This idea is past being just an idea and is actually a book that is almost complete.

It was the wrong guy, wrong time, and wrong place. All Shannon has to do is remember which guy, which time, and what place. But she can’t. She can’t remember any of it. If she does, she’s dead. So for over a year she forgets. She forgets to go to school. Do her homework. She forgets that weed is illegal. That alcohol could ruin her life. She forgets why anything even matters anymore.

Eric made a promise. A promise to do whatever it takes to find out who murdered his girlfriend. He has nothing but disdain for Shannon and the way she’s throwing her life and therefore his answers away. He figures the only way to get anything from her is to take it. This starts with a lie. A lie about who he is and a lie about what he wants. For a while, his plan goes fine. Each day Shannon trusts him more and each day he finds a way to push her harder to remember. But lies have a way of backfiring. When Shannon learns the truth about Eric and he discovers the truth about that night, their budding relationship explodes into hate and revenge. Neither can find a way to escape their pain or to forgive until a dangerous dare shoves them both over the edge and the only way to survive is to let go of the past for good.

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Every night I close my eyes and I see you. I relive you. Across the graveyard mist rose. Hate can scorch us just once and its scars will last a lifetime. I left your backseat and all the world just fell away. Silence. Agony. The crimson pokeweed was knee high, the red of the October moon bleeding through the clouds. I stood beside the stone angel so terrified I trembled inside.

You brought me to my knees. I begged for mercy. You left me alone there. You left me cold there. I didn’t know what I’d done. All this time I blamed myself.

You told a lot of lies, swearing you searched for truth. Lie to me again. Tell me it’s easier to believe I deserved this. I’ve been torn apart enough inside. So many tiny pieces, too shattered to ever be put back together. You swore you’d save me. You swore you’d make me feel again. But you’d already tied me to the dragon that would slay me.

Once I let you reach me. Too many years I’ve burned in hell for what you’ve done. You should’ve realized I was just a kid… that someday I’d see the truth.

When I left your backseat I left a crime scene.

Today our eyes meet. Yours tear through me till there’s nothing left. Lie to me. Convince me that I earned what you did to me. Lie to me. I’ve been walking as a leper for far too long. What a stupid girl. What a crazy fool to put my trust in you. I take a deep breath. You’re just a wretched old man now. A wretched old man with demons riding his soul.

Hating me won’t undo your wrongs. Hating me won’t save you from your pain.

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Sometimes a person can say something and it completely knocks you off track.  You know they don’t mean anything bad by what they’ve said, but you can’t stop the pain that comes.  It hurts and it’s nothing at the same time.

Back when I was first learning what friendships were about.  Back when friends gave as much as they took... when they saw the bad in me and still insisted I was beautiful to them... I miss those days.  The world had meaning then. It was going to go on forever.  We could get lost.  Close our eyes and be swept away to a place where we had no deeper want than the next smile we could pull forth.

I want what was then and I want what is now.

But I can’t have it all.

I used to dream. My writing reflected that. I used to know what I was about. I didn’t care if I was good enough to belong.  All I cared about was being true to me.  My insecurities made me fragile. They also made me pure.

I believed in myself. I believed in my stories. I believed I would fail. And it didn’t matter. I lived in my own room with my own faith. I knew deep down in my soul I had people who believed in me simply because they couldn't live one day without believing in me.  That's what friendship used to be.

Now it all seems so jaded. So hopeless.

But this isn't about friendship... or life.  It's about being beat down. It’s about losing yourself, selling out.  It’s about opening a book you wrote years ago and realizing you had it then.  But right now? You don't. 

Ignorance.  

It used to move me. 

Passion.  

Once it had me swallowed whole.

I feel like I'm starting all over again. Looking to be strange. Wanting to be that insecure little girl who listens to music nonstop and writes oddly dark poems all over scraps of paper.

I'll find myself again.  Because that crazy, uncertain girl was the best possible version of me there ever was.

There’s a lot of people out there who will never believe in me. They stole my thunder years ago. You know what? I'm not giving into them anymore. I’m stealing back my thunder.  Right here. Right now.

Hallelujah
 

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I have a blog post about stealing back your thunder.  However, since I woke this morning Joe has watched an infomercial and is now watching some show about de-boning game meat.  This has done nothing but make my head pound. So you get gripey me right now. Hopefully later I'll get to write up a nice, informative blog post. 

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Sometimes I do strange things. No. Really. I do. :-)

My father-in-law stopped by for a bit yesterday afternoon and we discussed snow blowers during our talk. This was because I had just finished reading fandoria 's recent blog post about her stupid, jerk of a basement.  I know you're probably wondering what her basement has to do with snow blowers. You can click on her name to find out.

My FIL knocked on the door and I was in the process of Googling snow blowers. I wanted to know how much they cost and was wishing I had the extra money to send one as a lovely present to my good friend fandoria . She totally deserves one.  I totally don't know anything about them.  I wouldn't know how big of one she needed or what the best brand would be.  My FIL helped me decide which one would be the best present if I only had the money to do such a thing. *sigh*

When my husband came in the door they wandered off to talk of other things.

My mind then moved from snow to sleds and I realized I wanted a sled. One that we could hook on the back of the 4-wheeler. Guess what I did next? Yep. I sled shopped online. I found some really cool ones.  But I think my husband could craft a nice one himself.  So I printed up a few pictures and informed him that I wanted one built. Or two. Or three.

;-) I'm sure he's really glad I've added more projects to his building list. lol  I just hope he gets it built before we have our one and only snowfall of the year.

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In the next month, my life changed in drastic measures. The first thing that happened was Kyra and I didn't talk for an entire week. We would have continued in this vein, I was sure, but Bryan and Mom were married and left for a weeklong honeymoon in Cancun, Mexico.

I would've loved to go to Cancun. I've heard it's sunny there and they serve drinks with tiny umbrellas to shade the ice cubes. I wouldn't have gone swimming in the ocean though. I don't swim in anything other than sparkling clear swimming pools where fish don't pee. I don't want to hear about how some kids pee in swimming pools. 'Cause that's just gross, okay? Besides, I like to pretend it doesn't happen.

Whatever honeymoon truly means, it doesn't include kids. Sadie and I stayed the week at Kyra's house.

On my first night there, which was a Saturday, I came out of the bathroom and Kyra was leaning against the wall in the hallway.

"Look," she said. "I didn't mean what I said. It came out all wrong."

I bent over and twisted my hair up in my towel. When I straightened, I raised my brows at her. "Pardon me, then. How was it supposed to come out?"

"It's the grave thing. I mean, if he's in heaven then you don't have to go to his grave to talk to him. See?"

Just how crazy did she think I was? "I know that. What you don't understand is I feel close to him there. I'm right above him." I leaned forward, bugging my eyes out. "I feel him."

"I just don't want you mad at me anymore," she said. "I do understand—"

I interrupted her with a loud pft.

"Well, okay," she said, "maybe I don't. I have my mom and dad both. But I want to understand. Doesn't that count?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, tapped my bare toes against the floor, and thought. Yes, I had missed her in the past week. I didn't want to fight with her the entire week either. She did have both parents, so yeah, I probably should cut her some slack.

"Okay," I said.

She awarded me a beaming smile as we fell in step with each other. Once at her bedroom, she opened the door and said, "Thanks for not telling on me."

"For what?"

"The wine."

"I'm not a snitch and besides Mom forgot about it, what with the wedding and all."

"I like him," she said.

"I hate him." And I didn't think even my dad's blessing would change my feelings on that.

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We went Christmas shopping yesterday. Most people who know me and accept me as "me" understand that I don't like crowded places or shopping.  I really don't like malls. The scents make my nose burn. Plus, I have a very short attention span. So while the crowds make me feel like I'm suffocating, looking and picking out things bores me in no time. 

Macy's, for some reason, received most of my ideas for mischief.   We parked in front of the store and entered the mall through their doors. We didn't stay in there long, but I remembered one time when we did. And my kids made all the perfume workers mad because they kept going up and down the escalators. :-D Shoot,  what's the point of the mall if you can't play on the escalators?

I told Joe, "Let's ride up and down over and over.  Let's run from the down escalator to the up one. Let's see how long it takes them to get mad at us."

He laughed but said, "No."

Through much searching we found our way out to the mall. We shopped in many stores. Joe carried the bags.  All the bags. I told him, "I can carry a few. I didn't bring you along just for a pack mule."

He laughed but said, "No."

We discussed how much the perfume/cologne/candles/soap were giving us headaches. I told him, "I would hold your hand but I realized this past spring at the ball fields that we are too cuddly with each other.  None of the other married couples our age hold hands as much as we do. I'm trying to cut back so we'll fit in more."

Let me tell ya something. That mall was way too hot.  It's like they thought they were in New York or some other world up there in the North.  This was Tennessee. It was 50 degrees Fahrenheit outside.  I think it was around 100 degrees in the mall. I was sweating. Joe was sweating. We were miserable. 

But eventually, we finished and fought our way back to Macy's so we could leave "The Mall".

However, I had to use the restroom before we hit the holiday traffic outside again.  We accidentally found the restrooms in Macy's home store. I'll say this about their restrooms. They were the cleanest out of all the public restrooms I was forced to endure yesterday.

A side observation I made yesterday: All the sinks in the many public restrooms had signs that read to wash your hands thoroughly with soap and warm water.  None of the sinks offered anything but cold water for your hand-washing pleasure. ;-)

When I finished at the Macy's restroom, I decided I'd browse their furniture because I still need to buy things for the kids' TV room.  This was a joke. They wanted way too much money for the most uncomfortable, poorly made sofas and love seats.  Pish. 

Now comes the end of our mall trip.  And in my defense I have to say that when I get bored I get up to no good in my mind. Sorry.

As we were leaving the area we had to pass through a maze of Christmas decor for sale and displayed on tons of glass shelves.  There was even an arch lit up that would lead us into the other part of the store. It was all very pretty and very well put together.  Unless you're a 6 and 1/2 ft man loaded down with shopping bags. ;-)

As I stood there laughing at him do the sidestep carefully through the displays I came up with a wonderful idea. All the men who sold furniture in the home store were dressed in their Sunday best suit and tie. They stood at their large sale counter watching my husband, because he might knock something off. Maybe. lol 

I went back to Joe and said, "Go back to the beginning of this insane maze and hang the bags all up and down your arms then take off at a hilarious, clumsy run. Yell in the most crazy redneck way you can and make sure the bags swing in every direction. Just go for it."

It would have been so hilarious to watch their f

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I was reading over my Yahoo news this morning and found an article about skipping out on a debit card for kids.  I read through it. I also read about Angelina Jolie's jewelry line.  The Jewelry line didn't hold my interest as much as the teens with debit cards article did.  It wasn't that I agreed with the article since I really don't have much of an opinion on it at all.  But when I read some articles I know the comments are going to entertain me so I click on the threads.

Right off the bat the first comment pissed me off.  Naturally, I countered this pissed off feeling by telling myself the author of the comment had no sense what so ever, but still. Now I know I could reply to him/her but I've learned enough about people over the years to know that would be useless.

Joe and I have talked about our lives as teens to our own kids.  I try my best to be completely honest with them.  One of the realizations we've come up with is that we ran totally wild. All of our friends did too.  We would leave the house on a weekend morning and be gone all day and all evening doing all kinds of things that should have gotten us killed. A few times it did kill some of us. We'd stand in shock over that person's death but eventually the shock would fade. We'd be back to entertaining ourselves with whatever crazy idea one of us came up with.

Sure we were supposed to check in with our parents. That was the "right" parenting move back then. But checking in with our parents on our own time frame and on our own terms was weak, especially considering some of the things we got up to. Most of our parents were worried about sex.  I laugh when I think about this because sex was probably the least of their worries.  It was the innocent fun that was the most dangerous. Why? Well because kids will be kids and we never imagined we'd ever die. We were invincible.

So why type up all this just to talk about my kids having cell phones?  When the teens around me first started getting them I thought it was a crazy idea, just one more thing to spoil them rotten with.  I don't feel that way now, not after learning the wonderful benefits to them. Technology is not always something to be feared. My kids know that if I call them and they don't answer their cell phone that's cause for me to ground them.  Perhaps they didn't hear it ring.  Sure I can accept that. However when I text, "CALL ME" they had better call me right then. I know they don't miss their text messages. Ever.

Facebook allows me to keep up with them in a way begging them to talk never could. Yes, they'll still hide things from me but since I'm not a bumbling idiot like the commenter said I can read between the lines on these networking sites.

In short, this is where I stand: Cell phones are a wonderful thing for a teen.

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I think I'm getting attached to my couch. Had you asked me a couple years ago if I could ever imagine sleeping on it I'd give you the crazy eye.  Alas, my bed seems lost forever out there in delivery land. If it doesn't arrive tomorrow I'm canceling the order and going bed shopping at a place that will allow me to bring my new bed home with me the day I buy it.

But back to my couch. I used to sleep on my stomach. This sleeping position is probably what caused me to dislike pregnancy. The very first night after I gave birth I would flip to my stomach and sigh in ecstasy.  However, as I aged that old basketball injury got worse and worse. I've blogged about the numerous times my shoulder has popped out of socket. Sometime after the near-drowning incident I had to force myself to give up my stomach-sleeping habit. It took a long time to overcome it, including a few mornings of waking up and trying to bring my arm from under my pillow only to have it jump out of its socket. That left me stranded in some sort of pretzel position trying to avoid vomiting while my husband fretted over the inability to help me.

So I gave it up. The only other position I could sleep in was the only other position I'd been forced into during the three pregnancies: on my side with a pillow under one bent knee. I hope arthritis doesn't show up in my hip which will prevent me from sleeping in this position later on down the road. *sigh*

Had I not given up the stomach sleeping position I would never have been able to sleep on my couch.  At last, I'm finding myself happy to've kicked the habit.  ;-) My couch is a very toasty thing full of comfort. See, I don't purchase furniture with the thought of it looking fancy or fashion perfect. I strive to make my home look inviting. A place where a guest will come in and release a breath of tension.  A place where they can feel welcome. I just never realized until I started sleeping on it how very well I accomplished this with my couch. ;-p

Don't get me wrong, I will not be sleeping on it when my bed finally gets here. But I'm okay for the time being.  At night, after everyone goes to bed, I snuggle up under my blankets and gaze at my Christmas tree. Sort of peaceful.

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1. It is a fact that if you inhale Early American Oak stain for too long you'll get high.  For this reason I recommend wearing a mask even if it itches and makes you feel like you can't breathe at all.

2. Deliveries suck this year. I've been sleeping on an air-mattress for two weeks now. Also for two weeks, I've been told my bed will arrive today. They lie, people! They lie.

3. I've realized this week that I can, in fact, still write. It just requires that I yell at myself often.

4. My husband has completed all of our top cabinets. :-) You have no idea how pleased that makes me.

5. I'm going to leave off with a sample of my accomplishments this week because having the space and peace to write is a wonderful thing.

Excerpt from Panthan's Abyss. Laura starts us off with the first line of dialogue. Micah is her partner in this conversation.

“I have all this power but I can’t touch her. I’m beneath her.”

“No, you’re out of her league.”

“That’s funny. When I look in the mirror, I still see the same me.”

“But you’re not. You far beyond anything she can understand. Come home. Grayson needs you.”

She backed down slowly.  "I'm fine there being the golden girl. But when I come back it hits me. I had a life here.  A life that can no longer have any part of me."

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Do you ever get it? You have a scene laid out in your head. You have the emotions. You have the perfect dialogue. It's all perfect. Then you try to get to the computer and it's like life becomes this horrendous obstacle course.  Inside you start to panic. Because you know you're going to lose it if you don't get to it right then. It's happened before. It happens every time. You try to jot down notes. You get cranky and short with everyone around you.  You turn childish with thoughts like, "If they didn't need me for this or that I could write." Or, "If I hadn't been stupid enough to sign up for that I could be writing right now."

Inside, deep down, you know you can't isolate yourself from the world just for those few fevered moments when that scene arrives. That's impossible and would make you go insane from loneliness in between times.

But still.

You feel the anger.

Then you get mad because you know this anger is going to make you lose the scene faster than anything else you have going on.

Yep. It's like that. Exactly like that.

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