Most Interesting Characters

For this week, the most interesting characters I've met were three ladies at the Dollar Tree. While all of us were rushing around to make our purchases, one of the ladies, a tall strawberry blonde with penetrating blue eyes was looking for the perfect balloon, a colorful Get Well balloon.

"Do you think she'll like this one, or should it say something else."

While loading items in a shopping basket another of the women wiped tears from her eyes.

"She knows how sick she is, so just get it. Let's get three of them. One from each one of us."

The third lady and I made eye contact and she smiled at me.

"We're having a little party for our friend. She's having chemotherapy and her hair's falling out. We want to make her laugh again."

"God bless all of you," I said. "She's fortunate to have such devoted friends."

On the way home from a busy day of errands I could not get the three women and their ill friend out of my mind. Perhaps I was envious that three women took such time to do something so thoughtful for a friend.

After all, it is the little things in life that mean so much to all of us. When we are healthy and things are going well, we have the tendency to take things for granted.

I have promised to make the most of each day while enjoying the little things, especially since 1998 when my world was falling apart. My dad was fighting to survive chemotherapy and radiation. My husband, Phil, was rushed into cardiac surgery, and I was spinning on an endless wheel trying to keep my career on target while caring for my dad and husband. My valiant attempt to be Super Woman.

On February 4, my husband will have another 'Heart Day.' A personal celebration for he and I after his heart surgery and recovery. This will be his 9th anniversary of 'Heart Day.'

Since that time (every year just before the anniversary approaches) I buy him a small heart trinket, a little something of insignificance to show I respect how hard he has battled to change his life and work habits since February 4, 1998. Today, I bought him a "Leonardo" stuffed animal -- the one Hallmark is advertising. He has a beautiful red heart and his tail wags, and of course, he speaks to you.

I have it gift wrapped and ready to give to Phil on his "Heart Day." Just like the three ladies at Dollar Tree, I am attempting to do something of little significance for a friend -- my husband -- to show him it is the little things in life that make us smile and appreciate life. Just like the thoughtfulness of three women searching for just the perfect balloon to make a friend smile.

As a writer, I am always observing people, wherever I go. Watching and reading their actions. I suppose it is because I love to read what isn't said, but shared.

Like friends searching for just the right shape, color and comments on a balloon. Or, something red and filled with hope - to signify to my husband that I do acknowledge that he does have a heart. Until 1998, I questioned if he still had a heart left, but when his chest was opened and a zipper left after surgery, I realized he does have a heart. The tears he allowed to slip onto his face just before surgery, and his actions after his surgery showed me everyone in life has character - if we just dig deep enough to find it and allow it to blossom.

My most interesting characters come from life. People walking on the beach. Meeting neighbors while walking with my three children, my beautiful pups. Children laughing. Older couples holding hands while strolling along the sidewalks. Saying hello to a complete stranger. Doing something unexpected -- just for absolutely no reason at all!

Here's a toast to all of life's most interesting characters!

Weekly Events January 2007

Today is Saturday, the 27th of January. This month is almost over, with much to do, catch up on, and organize.

This has been another busy week for me as a writer. Catching up on letters and correspondence, researching, sending query letters, catching up and organizing e-mail, and of course, the never ending stack of snail mail to file, and trash. This week, I sent out ten query letters, and more thank you letters. This was not a week of responses from publishers and magazines. Mostly junk mail - straight into the kitchen trash, or shredder it goes!

Now, I'm reorganizing my work area. If there are writers out there who have things organized at all times, I would love to know the secret to this. Yesterday, I spent the bulk of the day going thru old files and magazines on the book shelves and in file cabinets. My new rule is anything over a year old gets trashed, or placed in a box. Since I am a travel writer, I have many research stacks to complete. Anything over one year old -- file - shred - or trash. In the travel industry materials change - restaurants close, hotels change hands, etc. and that is why when I write a story, I confirm the resources. After all, I have a reputation to maintain, but the sea of paper work and research material collected leaves me overwhelmed. Today, I have three boxes to file and put away since most of the material is less than six months old.

I can't help wondering what my family would think if I died suddenly and they were left with all of this material to sort through. Perhaps they'd call me a pack rat? Gosh, I hope not.

Enough of the blog for today. Those boxes are calling my name and I want to experience the thrill of accomplishment, not the frustration of being overwhelmed.

Maybe I'll just pile all of this 'stuff' into one gigantic stack for the trash collectors!

Have You Ever Had a Day When---

No matter what you do, everything is filled with gloom? You awaken with dark thoughts, telling yourself you are overreacting? Such was a day for me this week -- Friday, to be exact. Checking e-mail early in the morning, I discovered the usual suspect collection of SPAM. Suggestions of ways to 'enlarge my anatomy,' improve my condition of erectile dysfunction, and suggested ways to improve my single social life.

The people who send these collections of SPAM, must be totally clueless. Most of them cannot spell a simple e-mail correctly, and if I needed my anatomy improved, I don't think I'd have a sex change since I am a woman. As for my improving my 'single social life,' I'm not single and I certainly would not attempt to meet people online since I do a great job with meeting people in person. And, let us not discuss erectile dysfunction since modern technology on the TV does a fine job discussing that, especially when young children are around! I ask you, just how do you explain Erectile Dysfunction to a six year old?

After deleting all of these endless e-mails, I practiced deep breathing and Yoga techniques, telling myself I was tired and needed to relax. I drove to the gym to work out my frustrations, convinced that if I allowed my body to work out the darkness would leave.

It did not.

Arriving at home, my children (my three affectionate pups) rushed to greet me and let me know they wanted to take a walk. When I recognized the darkness was still thumping inside me, I grabbed my 'puppy bags and papers,' leashed the pups and rushed outside to walk. It was chilly outside so I chose to lead the dogs into a different direction. Inhaling and exhaling while noticing Jasmine, tulip trees and azaleas blooming -- in early January, I shook my head. Signs of freshness and new life are around me, I thought. It's OK. Everything is A-O-K. Nothing to be alarmed about.

Later in the afternoon, with the darkness dancing around like a gray cloud of fog, I still could not shake the feeling. I went to my favorite window to have a chat with God, pleading with Him to shake the feeling away.

Since early childhood I've had visions of doom so when I have these feelings I listen to them. The last two I can remember that refused to leave was at 3:45 am on July 6, 1999, and in the early morning hours of 9-11. My dad was terminally ill with esophageal cancer on that July morning and not expected to live much longer. When I awoke to that sick feeling gnawing inside of me, I chose to ignore it, thinking if I called the nursing home to ask about his condition at this early time of morning, the nurses would think I was losing my mind.

I went to work on that date and could not tell anyone what I did at work. I was numb inside while the gloom draped me with a fear I could not escape. At 5:45 pm I arrived at Sandpiper Convalescent Center, excited to see my father. He would be proud of me. I had balanced his personal check book the night before and I had it in my hand, ready to share with him.

Rushing by the nurses desk, I nodded, speaking to the charge nurse on duty. I noticed Violet, my dad's favorite nurse, pushing an oxygen tank. "That isn't a good sign," I said to her. She would not acknowledge me and was following me. I didn't understand why she didn't speak, until she placed her hand on the doorway of my dad's room.

"No...No...Oh God, No." My voice screamed as the door closed and Violet pushed me away from the door. I dropped the check book on the floor. I heard Violet asking someone in the hall to take me somewhere. A stranger, a medium sized woman with a soft voice and face I cannot remember approached me, picked up the check book and encouraged me to join her on the bench in the hallway.

Now I knew why the gloom would not leave me on this date. The visions I knew so well were a sign -- a warning that something bad was going to happen. Moments later, my dad was pronounced dead. The heaviness in my chest lifted when my husband arrived to take me home.

Early morning of 9-11 I had a brief dream of a plane crash and some men dressed in black. I brushed it off. A nightmare, I said.

Friday was different. I checked with friends and family members to make certain everything was OK. Phil was scheduled to come home early on that date and I knew he was all right. I'd spoken to him at least a couple of times, hoping my voice did not give my fears away.

At 2:52 pm the phone rang. My dearest friend was on the line and when I answered, I heard her sobs.

"I have some bad news," she said.

Immediately, my mind rushed with thoughts of another friend we both knew who had been battling esophageal cancer and was riding the cancer roller coaster ride again.

"My brother-in-law is gone," her voice quivered. "He died this morning, when he was dismissed from the hospital. He got home, said he couldn't breathe, and he tilted over. Dead."

I was in shock. Only yesterday we had discussed his heart surgery procedure and how great he was doing. Only yesterday we shared intimate stories of husband's and male bashing, laughing like two innocent school girls. Only yesterday we laughed nervously just to release the tension.

Now, another life was gone, just like in the blink of an eye. Life is so short, isn't it.

Moments later, I hung up the phone, recognizing the gloom had lifted and now, I knew why. My visions were back. I must listen to these signs because they are warning signs to let me know something is happening. Just like on July 6, 1999 and on 9-11-01 in the early - early darkness of morning - when I had that warning dream of plane crashes and men dressed in dark clothing. The pieces of a puzzle dancing inside my mind, warning me of something suspect.

When Phil arrived home, I rushed to him. He followed me to the den. Sitting on the plush carpeting of the floor, we played with our pups while talking about how quickly life can change. "Only yesterday I laughed with Lou, telling her it would be OK. Modern medicine has come a long way. Phil, we are so fortunate. We've been blessed with a second chance. Let's don't lose it this time."

My husband wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. The warmth of his body next to mine gave me such comfort and I realized, the feeling of gloom was completely gone.

The Mystical Beauty of Beaumont Texas

Imagine living in a city where the air is fresh, people are friendly, and when you walk into a room, you feel right at home. Welcome to Beaumont, Texas.

Beaumont is a mystical city, filled with personality, charm and Texas Style Hospitality at its finest!

The photograph of the tree and swamp on the left was taken at Big Thicket. I was captivated by the sweeping branch filled with resurrection fern, a fern I've seen in Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia and the State of South Carolina.

Most people are not aware of the mysterious quality of the resurrection fern. When the weather is dry, the fern turns a dark brown, almost blending into the tree branches. In Charleston where I live, the fern isn't noticed until it rains. After a slight drizzle or a downpour, the resurrection fern turns a bright, healthy green, lacing the tree branches. I was amazed to see it so bright and green in Texas.