Hi! How was every one's Thanksgiving? Did you get your 5000 calories for the day? What did you do?
We went over to Mike's brother's house. We had tons of food! We had 7 pies!!! For 12 people!! I have to say, with all the other good food, who really needs the turkey?? We ate, looked at ads, watched sports and played.
Did you go shopping on Black Friday? Did you get any deals? Did you see anything crazy?
I got up at 5am and went to Walmart. Cars were lined up to leave the parking lot when I got there at 5:15. There were lots of people, but I had studied the map and knew exactly what I wanted and where to go. Everything was very well marked. The lines moved pretty fast. I was there for about 45 minutes, including the waiting in line to get out of the parking lot.
Next I went to Kmart. I got what I needed, although there things were not marked as clearly and had to be searched out. I eliminated 2 things from my list. The lines there were not so great, but still didn't take to long.
After that I went home and was there as Mike was getting dressed for work, by 7am. Not bad, I say. I showered, ate breakfast and got the kids ready for the day. Later, Jake and I went out to Lowes and got a tree, then to Kohl's where we looked at the one thing I wanted, looked at the line and then left. Not worth it.
So, I discovered that people apparently can't see the lines in the parking lot that early in the morning. They also forget that even though they didn't shower before they shopped, I didn't either, they still need deodorant! I remembered, but others in line didn't. Lots of people were on their phones asking their friends/family where they were and if they had gotten their quests. Lastly, coffee seemed to be sustaining many people in the stores.
It was fun, I am pretty much done shopping, which is kind of sad. We got a new family room couch set, Merry Christmas me!
Tell me about your weekend! Oh, did anyone put up their tree yet? Ours is in the back of the van...
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Another Snippet
Since no one else is putting up posts, I'll do another one from my book.
I had a problem--when I first started my book I made the religion of the main character, Jaren, a big deal. Then, for most of everything else I've written, I've left that stuff out. Someone pointed that out to me and I've been trying to decide if I should take it completely out of the first part or if I should go through and insert it into the other stuff. Well, I think I found a way to leave everything the way it is. What do you think?
"How are you doing?" She asked him, her brown eyes reassuring,comforting.
Not sure how to answer, or even what she was really asking, Jaren shrugged his shoulders, which hurt, and replied, "I'm fine."
Molly squinted a little and said, "No, how are you doing? How are you feeling, how are you taking all of this?"
Jaren teared up a little bit as he thought about what she was asking. With her arm still on his shoulder, she led him a few steps into the room and shut the door.
"I have a boy about your age. His name is Kevin. This whole experience was very traumatic for him--being enslaved, seeing his father whipped, being separated from us..." Molly's voice choked up a bit and she turned her head, wiping away a tear of her own.
It was then that Jaren really felt the whole weight of what he had been through. Thoughts of May and Elsa and *the little boys flooded into his mind, memories of the aching pain of hunger, the sleepless nights and drowsy days, the starving and whipped men, Lorentz and on and on. He gently touched his wrists, the brand on his shoulder, and the scar on his head, the muscles in his arms aching with each motion. For so long he had been holding it all inside, doing his best to carry on as if things were just normal, like he had when his parents had died. He had been trying to live by Lorentz' principle of focusing on the best in each situation and in so doing he pretended that there was nothing wrong. But, as it all came down upon him Jaren finally let go. Big tears rolled down his cheeks, and sobs broke through his scrunched up face.
Molly turned him toward her, and hugged him close. She spoke reassuringly to him and told him that things would be alright. Somehow, Jaren believed her.
"Jaren," she said, "this is a safe place. I won't say that everyone is nice or that they'll treat you kindly and I won't say that what you'll have to go through here is easy, but it is safe. Hairth does not tolerate people being cruel to one another. You will be happy again." Her last statement was like an answer to an unasked question lurking in Jaren's subconscious.
"How will I ever be happy again?" Jaren asked between broken sobs, "There's nothing left. I have nothing..." Jaren trailed off. Molly just hugged him tighter. She stroked his hair and let him cry. After a moment she said, "Hope for better things to come, ***, and always trust in the eternal." (These are the last words his father spoke to him before he died--if you had read the other part of the book, you might have remembered that. The *** indicates that I'd like something to go there but I'm not sure what)
The words sank deep into Jaren's heart, piercing the protective barrier he had been carefully building since he realized he was alone in the world. Images of his father rushed back into Jaren's mind. Not of his father, the diseased, disfigured, disgusting spectar that laid in his father's bed during their last interview, but the strong, vibrant man he had grown up with, the man he loved.
Like Lorentz, his father had always looked to the future with an expectation of "better things to come". But, when his parents had died, and Benjamin didn't return, something in Jaren gave up. He no longer trusted in the eternal, and no matter how the Devout Woman had tried, they had never been able to convince Jaren that better things actually would come. The past long weeks had acted only to re-enforce Jaren's disbelief of the doctrines his father had taught him. Jaren had never given up on the moral aspects of the creed. He had always tried to be a diligent worker and had always wanted to be kind, generous, and honorable. But he couldn't bring himself to believe that there was more to life than what he experienced--that there was providence watching over him and providing for him.
But somehow, Molly's words cut through all the disbelief. With the single statement, she eliminated years of doubt and took Jaren back to that eight year old boy, who, while standing beside his dying father had recited the most critical aspect of his faith, "Hope for better things to come, ***, and always trust in the eternal."
If you have suggestions for *** that would be good.
I had a problem--when I first started my book I made the religion of the main character, Jaren, a big deal. Then, for most of everything else I've written, I've left that stuff out. Someone pointed that out to me and I've been trying to decide if I should take it completely out of the first part or if I should go through and insert it into the other stuff. Well, I think I found a way to leave everything the way it is. What do you think?
"How are you doing?" She asked him, her brown eyes reassuring,comforting.
Not sure how to answer, or even what she was really asking, Jaren shrugged his shoulders, which hurt, and replied, "I'm fine."
Molly squinted a little and said, "No, how are you doing? How are you feeling, how are you taking all of this?"
Jaren teared up a little bit as he thought about what she was asking. With her arm still on his shoulder, she led him a few steps into the room and shut the door.
"I have a boy about your age. His name is Kevin. This whole experience was very traumatic for him--being enslaved, seeing his father whipped, being separated from us..." Molly's voice choked up a bit and she turned her head, wiping away a tear of her own.
It was then that Jaren really felt the whole weight of what he had been through. Thoughts of May and Elsa and *the little boys flooded into his mind, memories of the aching pain of hunger, the sleepless nights and drowsy days, the starving and whipped men, Lorentz and on and on. He gently touched his wrists, the brand on his shoulder, and the scar on his head, the muscles in his arms aching with each motion. For so long he had been holding it all inside, doing his best to carry on as if things were just normal, like he had when his parents had died. He had been trying to live by Lorentz' principle of focusing on the best in each situation and in so doing he pretended that there was nothing wrong. But, as it all came down upon him Jaren finally let go. Big tears rolled down his cheeks, and sobs broke through his scrunched up face.
Molly turned him toward her, and hugged him close. She spoke reassuringly to him and told him that things would be alright. Somehow, Jaren believed her.
"Jaren," she said, "this is a safe place. I won't say that everyone is nice or that they'll treat you kindly and I won't say that what you'll have to go through here is easy, but it is safe. Hairth does not tolerate people being cruel to one another. You will be happy again." Her last statement was like an answer to an unasked question lurking in Jaren's subconscious.
"How will I ever be happy again?" Jaren asked between broken sobs, "There's nothing left. I have nothing..." Jaren trailed off. Molly just hugged him tighter. She stroked his hair and let him cry. After a moment she said, "Hope for better things to come, ***, and always trust in the eternal." (These are the last words his father spoke to him before he died--if you had read the other part of the book, you might have remembered that. The *** indicates that I'd like something to go there but I'm not sure what)
The words sank deep into Jaren's heart, piercing the protective barrier he had been carefully building since he realized he was alone in the world. Images of his father rushed back into Jaren's mind. Not of his father, the diseased, disfigured, disgusting spectar that laid in his father's bed during their last interview, but the strong, vibrant man he had grown up with, the man he loved.
Like Lorentz, his father had always looked to the future with an expectation of "better things to come". But, when his parents had died, and Benjamin didn't return, something in Jaren gave up. He no longer trusted in the eternal, and no matter how the Devout Woman had tried, they had never been able to convince Jaren that better things actually would come. The past long weeks had acted only to re-enforce Jaren's disbelief of the doctrines his father had taught him. Jaren had never given up on the moral aspects of the creed. He had always tried to be a diligent worker and had always wanted to be kind, generous, and honorable. But he couldn't bring himself to believe that there was more to life than what he experienced--that there was providence watching over him and providing for him.
But somehow, Molly's words cut through all the disbelief. With the single statement, she eliminated years of doubt and took Jaren back to that eight year old boy, who, while standing beside his dying father had recited the most critical aspect of his faith, "Hope for better things to come, ***, and always trust in the eternal."
If you have suggestions for *** that would be good.
Monday, November 16, 2009
My progress bar
It's been too long since our last post, so I'm doing one. If you'll look to the left, you'll notice the progress bar I've added to help you all know how I am doing on my book. I've set the target goal of 110K words, so the percentage is based on that number.
Here's a picture of us making taffy. It needed more flavor oil...
Friday, November 06, 2009
Thadren
Jaren's head ached. The pain seemed to rise from his brain out to his scalp, and then sink back down. He held his head in his hands, like he was trying to keep it from falling apart. Confused by what was going on, Jaren tried to piece things together, but his thoughts were too elusive.
He had tried to open his eyes when he first woke up, but the sunlight was too bright. Instead, he had to use his other senses to figure out where he was. He could hear clinking metal and creaking wood. The pain intensified, distracting him. Jaren winced as he put his head between his legs. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped from his chin. The more lucent he became, the more he wished that he was still asleep. His whole body hurt. His stomach ached, his muscles felt torn, and he felt as if large sections of his body had been rubbed raw and then exposed to too much sunlight.
The pain momentarily ebbed, and Jaren focused again on his surroundings. He was sitting on something hard, his feet and seat level. Whatever he was on was gently swaying from side to side, like a rocking chair. After a moment of concentration, he identified the metallic clinking. It was the sound of metal chain links bumping into each other. Jaren had often heard this noise when he had watched his father work with carcasses in the slaughter house.
Jaren inhaled sharply in response to the pain cycling through his body again. The throbbing still clouded his mind. Once it subsided, he focused on the very distinct odors that filled his nose: smoke, like burning grass or wood and pork.
There was another smell that somehow nostalgic. The image of the slaughter house with the animals hung by chains through their hind legs, their heads missing, and blood dripping in the collection pails below returned to his mind. The combination of senses made Jaren wonder if he was in fact in a swaying slaughter house. The smell was blood.
Jolted quickly to full awareness, Jaren ignored the pain the sunlight caused and looked down at the drops of blood that had dripped to the wooden floor below. He gingerly traced the source, a wound on his head, with his left index finger. Squinting he looked up and his heart surged with fear. It was mid-day. He was caged in on a wooden wagon heading away from his home town.
Memories from the past night flooded into his now alert mind.
Uh...that's how my book is going to start.
If you know anybody that works for a publishing company, let me know. I'm trying to get as many contacts as I can so when I'm finished with the book, I'll have people to try before just going to random publishers.
Mike
He had tried to open his eyes when he first woke up, but the sunlight was too bright. Instead, he had to use his other senses to figure out where he was. He could hear clinking metal and creaking wood. The pain intensified, distracting him. Jaren winced as he put his head between his legs. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped from his chin. The more lucent he became, the more he wished that he was still asleep. His whole body hurt. His stomach ached, his muscles felt torn, and he felt as if large sections of his body had been rubbed raw and then exposed to too much sunlight.
The pain momentarily ebbed, and Jaren focused again on his surroundings. He was sitting on something hard, his feet and seat level. Whatever he was on was gently swaying from side to side, like a rocking chair. After a moment of concentration, he identified the metallic clinking. It was the sound of metal chain links bumping into each other. Jaren had often heard this noise when he had watched his father work with carcasses in the slaughter house.
Jaren inhaled sharply in response to the pain cycling through his body again. The throbbing still clouded his mind. Once it subsided, he focused on the very distinct odors that filled his nose: smoke, like burning grass or wood and pork.
There was another smell that somehow nostalgic. The image of the slaughter house with the animals hung by chains through their hind legs, their heads missing, and blood dripping in the collection pails below returned to his mind. The combination of senses made Jaren wonder if he was in fact in a swaying slaughter house. The smell was blood.
Jolted quickly to full awareness, Jaren ignored the pain the sunlight caused and looked down at the drops of blood that had dripped to the wooden floor below. He gingerly traced the source, a wound on his head, with his left index finger. Squinting he looked up and his heart surged with fear. It was mid-day. He was caged in on a wooden wagon heading away from his home town.
Memories from the past night flooded into his now alert mind.
Uh...that's how my book is going to start.
If you know anybody that works for a publishing company, let me know. I'm trying to get as many contacts as I can so when I'm finished with the book, I'll have people to try before just going to random publishers.
Mike
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Anniversary .... 4 year
Hola mi amor:
Hoy cumplimos cuatro anos de casados, estoy tan agradesida por eso.
Cada dia que pasa estoy mas enamorada de vos, sos mi mejor amigo mi companero eterno, el padre de mis hijos, y me hace tan feliz, Deseo estar siempre junto a vos, junto a nuestra familia etrena,
Amor soy tan feliz a tu lado gracias por todo lo que haces por nosotros.\
FELIS ANIVERSARIO AMOR TE AMO
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