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Back in the Saddle. Maybe.

  The words unfold themselves in my head. The hands though won't jot them down on paper or key them onto a blank document. That's not an excuse. I have no excuse. The Daddy accepted no excuses from me when I was a kid. If I did something stupid, then I did something stupid. I suffered the consequences. I learned quite early what the consequences were so I did my best not to do stupid things—or, at least, not to get caught. For a man with a gentle voice, the  Daddy gave very stern scoldings. So stern that it brought on the tears. And, should I cry, the Daddy said, "No crying." The longer the crying, the harsher the scolding. The Daddy used his belt for the dumbest decision-making acts I did. One or two quick slaps on my legs. The sting of the leather brought on the tears, too. "No crying," the Daddy said. Sucking up the tears just gave me the hiccups. I only recall two instances when I got the Daddy's belt. Both times I was no where to be fo

What If I Just Kept Driving?

I'm doing something completely different today. I'm linking up with Just Write , a weekly writing prompt hosted by authors Rebecca T. Dickson and Laura Howard. Want to try it yourself, click here . This week's prompt is "What if I just kept driving?" Sheila drove into tomorrow. It was much easier than she thought it would be. Her present was purgatory. Maybe if it was just hell, she would've stayed. Hell was bearable. It had borders. It had form. It had shadows in which she could find relief. But, purgatory. Damn. Purgatory. Such wishy-washiness. Such enabling. Such obscenity of humanity. There she said it. She lit a match to it all. Sheila looked over the desert floor, warming with each second of the rising sun bursting itself into the new day.

What's the Word?

What's the word I'm thinking of? Damn. What's the word? That's my life these days. And, that's not good when you make your livelihood as a writer. The word I'm trying to think of is usually a simple word, too. Forget about asking for an example, because I can't remember any one of my 500 million+ instances at the moment. All I know is that the word I'm trying to think of just dangles ghost-like in my mind. I really dislike the way a word plays hide-and-seek with me. If the Husband happens to be nearby, I'll ask him for help. "What's the word that means  blah blah blah." Most often, thank goodness, he knows the word I'm seeking. Some times, he throws out a bunch of words. None of which fit what I'm wanting to write. Other times, well, let's just say that I just type in blab blab blab and move on to my next thought, choosing to believe that the word will show itself. Eventually, it does. So far. Thank goodness. This troub

A Jump Start that Never Got Started

The Republican candidate for President—whose name shall not be invoked—thinks I'm a victim. Ha! Talk about projecting and being judgmental. No, no, come back. I'm not going to muse about politics today. Bleah. Today, I give you a look into this writer's belfry, as in bats in. The other day I found a file on my desktop with the title 88888...8887.doc. Of course curiosity got me and I opened it. Ha ha! on me. The Word file was my writing journal, the one I had started a few months ago with good intentions. Uh-huh. I was fishing around in my head for a story to latch onto. It had (and has) been a long while since I tried. The narrator a woman in her late 50s. A lot of ways I could go with that. A lot of ways. Did I? No. Will I? I don't know.     See. This became a post. Ha! Sorry for the blurriness of the photos of the scribbles. Hmmm, maybe that's a projection of my imagination right now. What you read is actually less than 855 words. I left out

A New Daydream

This morning, I read that a local farm needs a driver to deliver CSA boxes to its distribution points in several cities. Only twice a week. Only 15 to 20 hours a week. $12 to $14/hour, depending on experience. I would love that job. Yes, I would. Those are not long hours at all. The pay is definitely a living wage and it would be a nice monetary supplement for this nonstarving writer.  The lifting and hauling? I may not be in the best of shape, but I can manage the up to 40 pounds per item. I truly believe that within a few weeks my strength and stamina would be greatly improved. I would be hauling boxes with the not-quite nonchalance I used to do when I was quite younger. (Hey, it's my daydream.) Besides, the Husband says he would do it with me. Just think, the farmer would get two for the cost of one. If only I didn't have this writing project right now. And, those other responsibilities that I can't walk away from for two days a week. I know my limits—and my

Remembering. . .What?

Some days are better than others when it comes to my memory. Who am I kidding? It's really down to moments. Once upon a time, a long time ago, when I was 17, I memorized all of Horton Hears a Who! by Dr. Seuss for a public-speaking competition. I recall stumbling once or twice. Maybe trice. Ah, I had a strong memory back then. My long-term memory is still rather good. I just related a tale from over 40 years ago, didn't I? It's the short-term memory. Sigh. The other day, I was telling the Husband how many states allow employers to pay their workers who receive tips far less than minimum wage, as long as the combination of their tips and hourly rate (let's say $2.13/hour) totals up to either the federal or state minimum wage, whichever is the higher amount in the state. Yes, I know. The Husband could not believe it either. I'm glad to say that California does not have that law. I told the Husband that I learned all this from research I had done the day before f

Staying the Course

I've been dragging my fingers across the keyboard right now, and pressing the delete button a lot. I just don't feel like writing. So, why try, you may ask. It's not like my boss will scold me if I don't offer something up to the blog today. Well, yes, the boss will scold me. The boss is me. When I started Don't be a Hippie , I committed myself to publishing a post every Tuesday and Thursday. A job commitment is a commitment, regardless of whether it's to myself or to someone else for a fee. Blogging wasn't always like that for me. It was mostly comme çi, comme ça.  But, a few years ago, I went through a rather bad bout of what I shall just call writer's block. I used the delete button and stared at a blank computer screen more than quite a lot, and that's saying it mildly. The only way to keep that from happening again is for me to meet my self-imposed deadlines. It truly helped that I made myself do a daily post for one year on my Take 2

Thirty Years Ago. . .

Some of the first books I wrote and edited at Janus Book Publishers . Thirty years ago, I began my first day at work in the publishing industry. It was actually my second day of employment, but the first day was a holiday. I still think that was (and is) definitely a great way to start a new job—and a new career. I had not planned to enter the publishing world . Back then, my goal was to get at least five years of teaching under my belt so I could eventually become a high school counselor or a curriculum developer in a school district. So, what happened? Simple. By the time I earned my teaching credential in social science, there were few teaching jobs. I was in another bout of unemployment when I saw the newspaper ad for an assistant editor position at a small educational publishing house. I figured it was a long chance, but heck, what did I have to lose. Throughout the whole job selection process, I had a good feeling about the job. I had to do a writing sample, and as I work

Closing Up

Update : May 20, 2013 Today, I decided to merge the old and new blogs. There are just too many posts from "This and That. Here and There. Now, Sometimes Then" that I want to keep alive.  ~Su- sieee ! Mac  It has been over two months since my last post. I have mumbled several times to the husband, "I'm going to stop blogging This and That . Each time, he replied, "I thought you already have." Yeah. Well. I finally am. This is it. My last post. For this blog, that is. I've decided to start another blog. The husband  will be surprised. The new blog is called Don't Be a Hippie. . . Now and Then . Its focus is more selfish. I shall be revealing as much as I dare about myself through my memories, stories of my elders, and everyday experiences. At least that's what I think. Thank you Dear Readers and fellow Bloggers for your kindly visits and generous support. I hope you'll stop by my new blog. ~ Su- sieee! Mac

Hi, Hello, How are you?

Really? It's been almost a month since I posted a post. Wish I could say I was traveling or wandering in wonder lust. Nope. Just getting on with life. Dusting and vacuuming a bit more often to keep my facial eczema from flaring so awfully awful that my eyes become swollen. How swollen? The recessive epicanthic folds of my eyelids show themselves. An advantage for me. Nobody thinks anything is wrong with my eyes. Celebrating the husband's 60th anniversary of being born. Every 60-year-old child should have a birthday party complete with bubble wands, darts, and other games. And lots of his favorite food. Finishing a deadline and starting another one. Sigh. I'm boxed in until 12/12/12. So, by golly, the world better not end on 12/21/12! Working on my 40th high school class reunion. The husband doesn't believe me when I say this is the last time I work on a reunion. "Absolutely," I say. "Uh-huh," he says. So, that what has kept me me away from writing

Earlier, this evening. . .

I don't remember the last time I was outside. Just sitting. Just doing nothing. Well, okay, except for doodling words with a pen on a piece of paper. About, of course, nothing. I'm sitting on a beach chair on the front stoop. The mama is sitting in the back yard deadheading her pink daisies. The husband is standing in the front yard hand-watering the lawn. Uhmmm, that spray feels good. Me. I should be making dinner. And, I shall in a while. For now, I just want to enjoy a pause. I've been cooped inside spinning words and sentences into short, but clear and comprehensible paragraphs about stuff I have already forgotten. It's best to do that when you work on reference books. If I had retained everything I've written about in the last 13 years, my gosh... Ka-poosh! The sound of my brains exploding. Splattt. Splutt. Spposh. The sounds of my brains splashing on the walls and ceiling. Ah, yes. Imagination is good to have at any age. Now, I must go make dinner for the cre

Hold that Thought

I've held many thoughts so long that I hope one day they'll pass through my mind again. Especially the funny ones. One of my faults is suddenly interrupting the husband when he is reading or following something on TV to tell him something that bam! popped into my head. Let's just say he finds it annoying. Very. After blah-blah years together, I believe I've gotten better at holding my thoughts until he looks up or a commercial comes on. Alas, my brain has moved on to other thoughts. I wonder if that's what the vagueness is I sometimes feel going on in my head. Random thoughts that didn't get shared by either saying them aloud (to the husband) or writing them down for  this blog. Yeah, I miss expounding about nothing and wasting virtual  space with my verbiage. Do you think it's true that everything on the Internet is floating outwardly into the infinity of space? The waves must be pretty darn strong to break through the atmosphere and whatever else without f

What's Up With Me

Hello Dear Gentle Readers, I haven't been on vacation.  I wish, though. I'm not sick. Knock on wood. The mama and the husband are doing well. Thanks for wondering. I've been blogging less because I'm not very good anymore at writing for work and writing for fun at the same time. I'm working on revisions for some career books over the next two years. If only blogging could pay the bills. So, alas, I'm down to blogging at least once a week—on Thursdays. Take 25 to Hollister As some of you know, I also do a blog about my home town. Take 25 to Hollister , for those of you who haven't seen it. I've stopped writing posts for that blog, too. But, not photos. Not just yet. I've challenged myself to post a photo every day. I'm up to day 61. We'll see how long I can go. Another Book Reading Challenge Really? Yes. Call me nuts. Many already have and do. This one is the annual Cozy Mystery Challenge . This will be second year. I couldn't resist. Cozy

Winter's End

There have been years where I've missed spring completely. I often started writing projects in late autumn or early winter that would have summer deadlines. I left the house mostly to go grocery shopping, run errands, and attend engagements. Not until May would I realize that I did it again. No spring. Sigh. The month of March is one of my favorite months. To me, March is the essence of spring. Plants giggle "Hello" as they pop up through the ground. Trees sing with blossoms and new leaves. California poppies, blue larkspurs, and other crazily colorful wildflowers smile above expansive fields of grass. The yellow mustard laughs through the orchards. The hillsides shout green, green, green. It was easy for me to forget when I lived in city settings with miles of concrete and canyons of buildings. And, as my freelance career took off, the rides and walks into nature became far and few. It's much differently now since the husband and I have moved to the town where I grew

Random rambling

I've been feeling muddle-headed lately. Too many brain lapses. Quite a lot of pressing of the delete button. Sigh. So, bear with me, dear readers, as I ramble forward to clear my mind with random thoughts. Random thought number one. Big birds (maybe the doves) splatted big time on the side of the car and the driveway. Very rude! Especially since we leave bird seeds out every day. Random thought number two. The husband got a surprise check for $100 yesterday. It was part of a cash settlement in a class action law suit against a large drug distributor that was alleged to have set drug prices wrongfully high. The husband had no idea it was taking place. The company settled rather than go to court because it would be cheaper to pay $350 million today. In settling, the company does not formally admit to wrongdoing. That part is what always astounds me about corporations that get away with crime. Random thought number three. I have publishing deadlines over the next two years. I hope I

Published!

When I'm good, I'm very good at doing stuff. Quite efficient, almost to the point of being annoyingly anal-retentive. When I'm bad, I procrastinate. That pile of stuff in the hallway that I see as I type away on the keyboard, for instance, has been there since October. That's when I moved the pile from the side of my table where I couldn't see it at all. I won't even tell you long it was there. Yeah, and the point is? The husband's and my latest book was published last month. I'm finally getting around to mentioning it. I ought to have started publicizing it a month or so before it came out. Anyway here I am to brag about it. Career Opportunities in Agriculture, Food, and Natural Resources . A title I know you all want to go out and buy right now.  Then, you'll know what's going on when Hollywood turns it into a spectacular film.  Just kidding. About the latter, that is. Our masterpiece is a career guide book about 99 occupations that are availab

Another Blog, Another Voice?

In several hours I'll be meeting a friend to talk about blogs. Writing them and reading them. She's thinking about dipping her toe into the blog water. She wants to know if she would ever leave her house again should she venture forth. I told her it would be the opposite. She'd be out and about, her ears and eyes continually open for post ideas. Fellow bloggers, what say you? If the friend decides to go for it, she'll be doing it through Wordpress. Until three hours ago, my experience with that blogging platform was zilch, nada, nothing. Three hours ago, I was very hesitant about getting a grasp of the Wordpress blog basics. But, how was I going to give the friend an idea of what she would be getting into, if I didn't find out. There is definitely a difference between Wordpress and Blogger, which I've been using for the last three years. The first thing I noticed was how overwhelming the instructions were to do this and that. But, once I figured how to publish a

When a Writer Isn't Working

Here's what this week looked like for a professional writer who hasn't been doing much writing lately. Be forewarned: You may fall asleep. That's okay. I may already have. Sunday The husband and I bought a Dyson vacuum cleaner. Although several friends had recommended it, I did not put it on our list of choices because of the cost.  At the store, we got curious and looked at it. Then all of a sudden Jesus appeared. "Can I help you?" he asked politely. (Really, the sales guy's name was Jesus. Not Hay-soos, but Gee-sus.) Very long story short, with Jesus' confidence about the machine and the store's return policy, we decided to invest in the machine. Monday I vacuumed part of the house. Result: Three containers full of dust. The mama made a mistake on her absentee ballot, so I took her down to the courthouse for a replacement. As we headed up the stairs, she said, "I feel so ashamed for making a mistake." In all her 50 years of voting, this was

Saturday Mumbling

I'm feeling lazy today. No, that's not true. If I really was lazy, I wouldn't even be writing this. Ha! More precise is this: I'm struggling with words today. If cartoon bubbles could surround my brain cells right now, they would say "puff, puff, puff, fizzzzzzle." This morning a whole lot of sparrows were eating out of the feeders in the front yard today. My brain cells feel like how the sparrows looked as they scattered to the bushes, the fence, and the rooftops when a sharp noise spooked them. Seriously. I sound like a loony tune right now, I know. By writing about it, I'm a loony tune with a spotlight on it. Hmmm, which reminds me of the Bugs Bunny cartoons on Saturday mornings. Do you remember how Bugs and Daffy Duck began the show by singing "This is It!" Don't recall it? Don't know it? Well, then, have a look-see and enjoy. As for me, I'm heading out to the farm stand for some fresh apples.  Maybe by the time I've come bac

Rambling Friday

This morning I woke up with a stuffy nose. The husband stirred beside me. The mama scraped a chair on the floor in the kitchen below. She was either about to eat breakfast or she had finished. "What time do you think it is?" asked the husband. "Time to dust the room," I answered. I got up, picked up my glasses, and headed to the bathroom. As I walked by the stairs, I glanced down at the clock in the living room. 9:30. The mama had slept later than usual. The husband had slept his eight hours. I was lacking again. Oh, well, what does it matter? The three of us have not had to answer to a boss's clock in years. Only our own. My self-discipline comes and goes. There is so much about which to be disciplined. House cleaning, for one. Writing, for another. Finding writing jobs, a third.  Exercising, most indubitably, a fourth. And then there is downsizing our stuff that has been in storage for years now. The list of what I need to work on keeps growing rather than sho