Un-Stuffing Stuff

I had to laugh when I read “The Last page” editorial in the new Smithsonian magazine that arrived yesterday. Normally I don’t venture to pick it up and read it, but for some reason today I did. Its timing could not have been better. You see, Sam and I are engaged in un-stuffing our house right now, so the article was quite apropos:

 “We are all foot soldiers in this war, though mostly AWOL. Surveys say that 73 percent of all Americans enter their houses via the garage—each of them staring straight ahead to avoid seeing the stuff piled up where the cars are supposed to go. The other 27 percent never open the garage door, for fear of being crushed beneath what might come tumbling out.” (Conniff, Richard, “The Hoarding Instinct,” Smithsonian Magazine, January 2012, p. 92.).

I wouldn’t say Sam and I are hoarders exactly. I mean we don’t have a house such as you might find featured on the TV show The Hoarders. What we DO have is loads of stuff that we’ve bought or dragged home through the years that really is useful. It’s just ended up stored in boxes or piled up and dragged along with us as we’ve moved. We don’t have a house with little trails winding through mountains of stuff—and we know what that’s like, because we do have a friend who does. Our excess baggage is mostly relegated to a back room (not the garage) and is primarily the result of our last move where we packed it all up and then somehow never un-packed it. The pile isn’t very tidy anymore either, because I’ve had to paw through it from time to time through the years to find various items. I’ve even gone and bought new things I already had that were lost somewhere in the heap, because it was too much trouble to try and locate them.

We were always good scroungers too. It never escaped either of us when we could put somebody’s cast-offs to good use. That behavior stood us in good stead all those years when we were living from hand to mouth, and it was a survival skill, because we couldn’t afford to buy new stuff! We had Good Will and Salvation Army sofas and chairs, not to mention parental cast-offs, as our furniture right up until we bought the house we currently live in. In fact, we still have my Grandma Rose’s bedroom set, because we never got around to replacing it during the furniture buying frenzy. We decided not to spend any more money.

The Christmas holidays this year were the turning point, because we were so tired of all our junk that we resolved to finally sort it out and get it out of here. It seemed pointless to decorate, when we first needed to just get rid of stuff. We’ve made great strides, too, though Sam still has not physically hauled anything away yet. There are clothes for the blind or homeless, and dishes, knick knacks, and other small items for the Thrift Store. Some stuff did get put in the trash or the recycle bin, though there are loads of things still left to sort. We talked about how we want to redecorate too, so the house will not only have more room, but it will also be more livable.

Better than any of that, however will be the relief I feel when the burden of all that stuff is gone. No I don’t want to go back to it, either. I would far rather live a more Spartan existence than to ever have to look at a pile of boxes ever again, knowing that I or someone else will have to someday go through them.

I well remember the two days I spent sorting through all the stuff in my dear Grandmother Rose’s house after she passed away. The job fell to me and me alone, because my sister and her family members could not get off work to help, though they did haul away and sell or find homes for everything after I went through it all. I particularly remember going through the boxes of old mail in her basement, and I swear she had saved EVERY bill, birthday, and Christmas card she ever received.  On the one hand, it was kind of nice that so many people had sent her remembrances through the years, and reading a few of the notes brought tears to my eyes. It got to be a bit overwhelming, though, so believe me, nobody will have to sort through that kind of stuff when I am gone!

The Good Old Days

A friend recently wrote to tell me that his life, since he retired, was now pretty peaceful down on the farm, far from turmoil. It reminded me of when Sam and I had our own little place (I mentioned in my last blog post that I had goats once, so here you go.) many years ago before moving to the Seattle area. We owned a little 10-acre farm in Northeastern Oregon, not far from La Grande on the outskirts of a settlement called Summerville. We hope to move back to La Grande (once we retire) and settle down with our horses, but at that time we lived about five miles out of Summerville in our little 10 x 40 ft. mobile home.

Back then I had long hair down to the middle of my back, which I usually wore in braids, and we had no horses at all. No, we had chickens (Barred Plymouth Rocks and Rhode Island Reds), ducks (Rouens, which look like very fat Mallards, only with black instead of orange feet), Muscovies (a “duck-like South American waterfowl”—I looked it up), Pilgrim geese, and dairy goats. Sam and I were in our post-college phase and had “gone back to the land,” which was very fashionable with all our peers. Some of them even had their own sheep and wove fabric by hand from their fleeces on their own looms. We were founding members of the Mt. Emily Co-op (the local bulk organic food store), too. That should tell you where we were at in those days!

One half of our place was in timber and the other half was a large cleared field that the previous owner had once planted in grain, probably oats or wheat, and there was a gravel driveway that wound from the county road up to where our mobile home stood. We had our own well for water and a little barn of sorts that Sam had cobbled together, but the animals pretty much roamed wherever they wanted. This was not a problem, because we didn’t have a garden to worry about, nor were we afraid the birds would get away. All our neighbors lived a fair distance from us, so we didn’t have to worry about the goats, either, and if you know anything about goats, you know they are not easily confined. I am not kidding (excuse the pun) when I say it is not unusual for one to jump a six foot fence flat-footed. The big heavy-bodied milkers can’t quite make it that far, but all the rest of them can, no sweat! No, our only worries were that coyotes or the neighbors’ dogs would bother our stock, and there wasn’t much we could do about that, short of using the .22 rifle on them.

Why, you may ask, did we have goats? Because we had a farm, we wanted our own milk, and because there are goat people and there are cow people. Having grown up with cows, and not being overly fond of them, I wasn’t at all excited about having any myself. Also, have you ever tried to manhandle a cow? They are kind of large for that. No, when Sam and I decided we wanted to be able to produce our own milk, goats won the day hands down.

By the time we moved to our farm in Summerville, we had owned dairy goats for a couple of years and already owned several individuals from two different breeds. We started out with the only goat we could find locally: a cute little white Saanen-type doe named Sally, but before long we discovered that there was a great deal of variety in goats (by the way, goats are not properly referred to as nannies and billies—they are does and bucks, like deer, to which they are distantly related). By the time we moved to Summerville, we had branched out to Nubians, a breed noted for its distinctively long, bell-shaped ears, roman noses, and rich milk high in butterfat. They also have distinct personalities and a great deal of color variation. Where Saanens are known for being quiet and laid-back, Nubians are the clowns and extroverts of the caprine world. And yes, I milked goats—about 10-15 does twice a day, every day, come rain, sleet, snow, or shine, and I have the grip to prove it.

Having the goats was quite an experience, and I definitely learned what hard work was all about. You do not own goats; they own you. Whereas with cows or other kinds of livestock, you can probably get a friend or someone you know to cover chores for you if you ever want a vacation, it is impossible to find anybody to come and milk goats for you. Some people use machines to milk them too, but I milked them all by hand, kept what we used for ourselves or sold as “pet food,” and bottle-fed the babies (that’s the only way YOU get any milk). On a farm you do not get sick days, because chores need to be done morning and evening every day whether you feel like it or not. You also make very little money, because you sell wholesale and buy everything you need at retail prices. Of course, it wasn’t an entirely bad experience. I loved living in the country, and I loved my goats—but I would think more than twice should I ever consider having them again.

I once saw a cartoon in one of the local papers which made me laugh very long and sardonically: An old farmer has just won a million dollars in the lottery, and a reporter is interviewing him wanting to know what he plans to do with all his money. The old farmer just looks at the reporter and replies, “Oh, I guess I’ll just keep on farming until it’s all gone!” Unfortunately, there is more truth in that statement than you might like to think. In fact, that’s why we got out of the goat business and moved to Seattle: We were working our butts off and going broke. Both Sam and I worked full-time at the hospital in La Grande, then we turned around and spent what we had earned working full-time on the farm, getting deeper and deeper in debt. I must say that one of the smartest things we ever did was to bail on the farm. I have tremendous respect for anyone who tries to make a living farming or ranching, because it is extremely hard work, all hours of the day and night, for very little income. That is why agri-business is taking over production of our food today.

Do I miss “the good old days?” Yes and no. I love country living and producing my own food; I thoroughly enjoy working with animals and hand-crafting things for myself. Nothing can take its place. And believe me, I would not miss TV at all, though giving up the Internet would be hard. Thankfully I won’t need to do that. At the same time I do NOT miss working so hard in uncomfortable conditions. I well remember one wintry morning sitting on my milking stool, milking one of my favorite does, who was busily chowing down her Purina Dairy Goat Feed, and reflecting on why I was there. It was so cold that the water buckets were all frozen, the milking parlor was not heated, and it was snowing outside. There was a little mouse in the corner watching me the entire time too. I never had the heart to kill them myself, though I didn’t care if the cats did. Where were those cats when you needed them? Well, I knew I had no one to blame for my predicament but myself. No, I did not hate it; I DID enjoy my life mostly, but if I were ever to have goats again, I would only have a couple, and they might well be Angoras next time!

It's Time for Holiday Baking!

Every year about this time, an amazing thing happens across the country and around the world: Cooks everywhere dust off their holiday recipes and get to work baking oodles of wonderful things to eat.

The variety of traditions and recipes available to the holiday baker is absolutely incredible. Witness all the holiday magazines that come out right after Halloween with their pages packed with all sorts of decorating and cooking advice. When I was younger (and thinner) I used to buy several magazines every year to pore over, wondering what new delights I might find to bake for my family and to give away as gifts to co-workers and friends. In the process, I garnered a collection of my own favorites through the years. Back when we had the dairy goats (yes, I had them—about 40 of them in fact, but more on that another time), I even made Goat Milk fudge one year. My husband Sam pokes fun at me, but I have a huge cardboard box of recipes I’ve torn out of magazines or saved from labels or boxes, and that’s where my treasure trove resides. There are a few holiday magazines I’ve saved too. After we moved into our house five years ago, I couldn’t find said box or magazines for a couple of years, so I had to improvise and come up with some new holiday favorites, but the good news is that when I found the old recipes, I had loads of new ones to add.

In the meantime, I really have been trying to get my recipes sorted through, written up, and saved onto my computer. That way I can someday be rid of The Recipe Box forever, and I’m sure Sam will be glad. He is a very organized person. I have a refrigerator magnet that reads, “I am not disorganized. I have anti-systematic methodology disorder.” Describes me to a T—at least with some things.

One thing always happens to me whenever this season rolls around, however. I get anxious, because I like food (like most people), and I know I will not be able to resist the yummy creations I encounter at work or make at home myself. In fact, whenever I do bake something at home, it normally goes right to work. My co-workers can tell you I don’t bring goodies to work very often, because out of the instinct for self-preservation, I don’t bake much anymore. Why? Because I know I’m going to gain a few pounds if my creations hang around at home very long. One thing I’ve found you can do though is to be very picky about the goodies you eat. Let’s face it. You’d better really enjoy that Christmas cookie, piece of fudge, or slice of fruitcake, not to mention the glass of holiday punch or Irish Cream, because it will be with you for a while. With that said, I must say that I DO enjoy holiday baking, and I DO enjoy sampling everything! No bah, humbug Christmases or New Years for me!

Of course, Sam and I have formed certain personal traditions by now. One of them is to enjoy homemade Irish Cream and shortbread cookies, while listening to holiday music, as we put up and trim our tree. Needless to say, we always have a really good time doing it, too. A few years back I also learned how to make gingerbread houses, which are great fun—and people absolutely LOVE destroying and eating them. I like to make a couple recipes of fudge and divinity every year and of course there are the inevitable sugar and candy cane cookies, and hors d’oeuvre plates of Swedish meatballs or Viennese wieners. You get the picture. By the way, do you know that if you misspell hors d’oeuvre, that Spell-check has no competent suggestions for you (drovers? dourest?)? It figures! Thank God for my three volume set of Webster’s Third Unabridged!

Now in parting, since I tantalized you with my tale of homemade Irish Cream and shortbread cookies, here are my recipes so you can enjoy them too!

Homemade Irish Cream Liqueur*

1 ¼ cups Irish whisky
1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk (NOT evaporated milk!)
2 cups whipping cream
3 eggs or equivalent in egg substitute
2 tbsp. chocolate syrup
2 tbsp. instant coffee
1 tsp. vanilla extract
½ tsp. almond extract

Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl with a whisk or in a blender. Will keep for at least two weeks in the refrigerator.

*Adapted from a recipe found on Eaglebrand sweetened condensed milk.

Homemade Shortbread Cookies* (This is one of the easiest recipes I have found!)

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup (two sticks softened butter—and please, it absolutely MUST be butter!)
½ cup confectioners’ sugar
¼ tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 tbsp. granulated sugar (regular white sugar)
Confectioners’ sugar

Preheat oven to 350⁰. Beat together the flour, butter, ½ cup confectioners’ sugar, baking powder, and vanilla until well mixed. Scoop dough into a 9-inch cake pan and pat it down, then prick it all over with a fork (to allow steam to escape). Bake until the top is slightly golden, about 30-35 minutes. Immediately cut cookie dough into eight wedges and invert pan on a wire rack to remove cookies. To serve, sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar as desired. One variation is to substitute lemon flavoring for the vanilla.

*Adapted from a recipe found in the 1989 Women’s Day Super Special Great Holiday Baking issue, p. 79.

Happy Holidays to all!

Quantum Mechanics and Free Will

I never thought I would hear myself say this, but quantum mechanics is interesting—not that I understand it, but I would like to. I’ve seen three programs on TV lately that expanded my mind, since they dealt with the origin of the Universe and whether God exists or is even necessary to create it, the possibility of time travel, and the existence of parallel universes.

Steven Hawking doesn’t believe in God. Looking at the evidence where electrons and other miniscule atomic particles can be in more than one place at a time, Mr. Hawking doesn’t even believe in the Big Bang. Of course, he completely discounts anything that cannot be seen, touched, or measured, i.e. anything spiritual, which I daresay he doesn’t believe exists at all. He has not apparently had any spiritual experiences, or he might believe in them, but maybe (like Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol) he believes they are the result of eating an old potato.

More interesting than Dr. Hawking’s ideas are the programs on PBS’ Nova series, The Fabric of the Cosmos by Brian Greene. The first episode concerned the possibility of time travel. Who among us has not wished he could go forward or backward in time, either to repair the past or view the future? According to Dr. Greene, the laws of physics do not preclude it, but so far we do not know how we could possibly travel backward, only forward, and that only using technology not yet practically available. Time seems to behave like a frozen river we experience only in the present, and that makes sense or how could anyone hope to predict future events?—and a few people have. That also rules out any hope of ever altering the past, and therefore perhaps we must believe that Fate and Destiny are real. Perhaps Free Will is only an illusion we experience, because we inhabit time in the present?

The second episode dealt with the nature of quantum mechanics and how, even though it goes so wildly against what we experience as “normal” mechanics, it has always held up in thousands of experiments over the past 100 years. We think we know how the Universe behaves and can predict some events in the future (the movements of stars or the arc of a baseball), but that is only on the level of BIG things, not the ultra-small. We cannot predict the location of an electron at any given moment, only the probability of where it might be. Not until we LOOK at it will we truly know where it is, and there surfaces another problem: the act of observation affects the outcome of events. Particles are not particles until we look at them, they are waves!

Then there is the very real possibility if not probability of parallel universes or multiverses. Every time we do something, a new parallel universe is created where we did the exact opposite, or did nothing. Imagine an infinity of universes created whenever anyone did something, and that would have to apply to everything, not just human beings. Perhaps there is a universe where the biggest mistake you ever made was not made at all. How would that play out? Is Fate any different in that circumstance? Does everything work out the same regardless? Or, if we exist simultaneously in an infinity of universes, do all of our selves share one soul? Indeed, is there any such thing?

Well I obviously have many more questions than answers, as I’m certain many others do also. I have my own ideas. Stay tuned.

Winter Has Come at Last

I can’t be in denial anymore; winter is definitely here. This morning I woke up to see hoarfrost on the herb garden thinking, “Well, hope the lemon verbena makes it THIS year. Too late to worry about it now!” Last night I had to scrape ice off my windshield when I left work, and the streets had little sparkles of black ice on them as I drove home. At least the hard top is already on the Miata, so I don’t have to wonder how I will dry out the soft top enough to be able to put it on. And tomorrow? I need to put the horses’ insulated winter turn out rugs on them.  Now that the days are averaging around 40⁰ degrees with wind and rain, it’s time.

Winter is not my favorite season. Never mind that my favorite holidays come then—it’s cold! It’s wet! It’s dark! And I don’t like that! In order to get through it without going into hibernation, I have to concentrate on the things I DO like: comfort food, burning wood in the fireplace, planning special dinners for Thanksgiving and Christmas, writing cards to friends and family, not needing an excuse to spend evenings knitting, watching my favorite Christmas DVDs, making and buying gifts for friends and family. I could go on, but you get the picture. No doubt these are some of your favorite things too.

Last night I went through my holiday DVD collection again to see if there were a few more I should buy. Most of these I bought when I still worked evening shift at my job and didn’t have a recorder. I used to record videos, but then we bought a DVD player/recorder that was so complicated to set up that I gave up trying, therefore the DVDs. That way I could watch them whenever I wanted, not just when they happened to be on TV. Now I’m spoiled. I have DirecTV and can watch and record whatever whenever I want. When I finally get an Internet-enabled system, the sky will be the limit. Still, it’s good to have my own DVDs, because I can just put them on and watch without having to do a search to find out when they will air and record them. This year, I hear, the Hallmark Channel is showing Christmas shows continuously. Great, but that would be a bit overwhelming for me. Here is a list of my personal favorites, all of them classics, and all of them entertaining:

It’s a Wonderful Life

Elf (Will Ferrel IS an elf!)

Miracle on 34^th Street (the original one)

Christmas in Connecticut (original)

National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (Chevy Chase—that says it all.)

White Christmas

Holiday Inn (Fred Astaire’s Independence Day number is unforgettable.)

The Polar Express

Scrooge!

A Christmas Story (Remember the Bumpus hounds? I laughed myself silly the first time I watched this!)

Fred Claus

The Santa Claus (1, 2, and 3)

How the Grinch Stole Christmas (original animated version)

Prancer

The Nightmare before Christmas

King of Kings

The Greatest Story Ever Told

Scrooged (an odd take on A Christmas Carol, starring Bill Murray—very funny!)

And these animated classics (kids love these): 

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Santa Claus Is Coming to Town

Frosty the Snowman

Frosty Returns

A Charlie Brown Christmas

A Christmas Carol

I must confess that I’m often feeling more like Scrooge than Santa before Thanksgiving rolls around, but watching a few of the above movies will usually get me in the Christmas spirit, especially during an evening by the fire with my husband Sam, a glass or two of wine, and some knitting in my lap.

May your Holidays (and winter too) be very merry and bright!

The New World of Publishing

Some of you may have heard a rumor that I recently published a book. It’s true! In August I self-published a volume of poetry consisting of selected poems written during the course of my life, entitled Howling at the Dark Side of the Moon. It’s been quite a journey since I decided to put them in print: interesting always, instructive at best, but not always fun, and sometimes completely exasperating.

First of all, let me say that you can buy either soft cover or hard bound copies of my book directly from me, or you can get it through Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. For you iPad and Kindle folk, I plan to put out an eBook edition before long as well. The soft cover currently retails for $14.07+ and the hard bound edition for $24.07, plus tax. In addition, if you purchase from me, I would be more than happy to autograph your book for you. I hope you enjoy it, and if you do, please tell your friends!

With that said, my publishing journey has taught me a number of lessons which I shall chalk up to experience. You know the old saying, “Experience is always the best teacher”? Most of us have never heard the rest of the sentence which says, “as long as it’s somebody else’s.” Hopefully one or two of you can profit from mine.

It has also been said that vanity press publishing was the “kiss of death” for any book, and there are authors and other notable folk still making the lecture tour circuit making money off that outmoded notion today. Few people know that many books we consider classics were originally self-published (Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, for example), and the term “vanity press” is actually obsolete, because many publishers are now available to help authors who contract with them. In the New World of Publishing, vanity presses (or book aggregators) don’t have the stigma they had even five years ago, simply because that’s the only way the average person (someone who is not a celebrity, or a writer with at least one blockbuster best seller to his credit) could hope to get published in the first place. As the big publishing houses were bought up by foreign investors and shifted their emphasis from growing and nurturing promising writers over to simply making as much money as possible, there weren’t many options left for anyone who was not already established. And let’s face it. Most authors want to write books, get them published, and get back to writing more books—they are not interested in learning the ins-and-outs of the publishing world, and trust me, there is a great deal to know! I’ve just begun to learn what I need to know in order to promote my book.

One thing I have learned is that whether you publish through a traditional publishing house, a vanity press, a small indie publisher, or self-publish through Amazon.com; it’s still up to you to promote your book. The big publishing houses don’t spend that kind of money anymore, unless they think you have a best seller—and they know they can be wrong. If your book doesn’t sell thousands of copies for them, you won’t get the big advance or an expensive promotional tour the next time out. They may not pick up your next book at all. A debut author is lucky to get an advance of $1,000-$5,000 now, and that is only against future sales. You are still expected to promote your own book through blogging and social networking, and it can take up to two years for a traditional publisher to get your book into print. And a national book signing tour? No problem, if you’re a big-name celebrity, but for the rest of us? Not at all likely! Unless you have a good agent (and how do you get one of those? Finding one can take years too), you won’t sell anything to the big publishers anyway. Also, a great many publishers, large and small alike, do not take unsolicited manuscripts, so what do you do?

Since I already knew most of this was true, and because my first book was a book of poetry (if you sell 1,000 copies EVER, it’s considered a best seller), I decided to go with a vanity press, and one of the oldest and most respected companies, six years ago. I was not an established poet, having only published a few things on the Web over the years, so very few people even knew I was a writer. I was NOT interested in learning how publishing or book promotion worked. I just wanted to publish my book, hopefully sell some copies to friends and family and maybe a few strangers, and then get on with my life. I work for a living; I have horses; I am married and am expected to cook and keep house. Did I have time to learn about publishing and then get out there and do some promoting? Heck, I didn’t know how, and I wasn’t interested in learning! I did my research and signed a contract (at a big discount to the publishing company I had chosen, since they offered me not only a discounted price but the incentive of twice as many “free books” to sign). I opted to format my book myself too, so I saved even more money. Well, I got 98% of the work done on my manuscript within a fairly short time, and then life intervened. I got distracted with the rest of my life, plus I had to wait for other people who wanted to contribute to the book. For instance, my husband Sam wanted to write something for the back cover. Then the company I had signed with was bought up by Author Solutions, Inc. and moved to Bloomington, Indiana and I didn’t hear from them for about four years. To be fair, I hadn’t exactly made finishing the book a priority either.

Then my publishing representatives (there was a new one about every other month) began hounding me to complete the book. I imagine they wanted to clear their backlog and start making a profit on me. Everything finally came together and I finished my manuscript, designed my book cover, and wrote up my promotional copy. On August 16, 2011, my book was published, and I was justly proud of what I had accomplished. What I didn’t know, however, was that my work had only just begun. Tsk, tsk. I began to learn the REAL reason why not to publish with vanity presses (the aggregators): they make all their money on pricey aftermarket promotional add-ons, most of which are things you can easily do for yourself for free or which require only a small investment. I began getting almost daily phone calls from my promotional agent, trying to sell me various add-ons such as a Kirkus book review for $2,599. What???!!! That’s way more than I paid to have the book published! Did they think I was made of money? Needless to say, my rep didn’t go much further trying to sell me promotional items, because I refused to bite. I frankly told him, “Why should I pay for that, when a friend of mine who is a prominent and respected poet has already said he would write a FREE review for me?” A couple of weeks later I checked out Amazon’s “Look Inside the Book” feature for myself, because I had told my promotional rep that I wanted to have that for my book and it wasn’t showing up. Get this: Amazon charges you NOTHING for that service, but when I spoke to my rep, he wanted me to pay them $150 to do it. See what I mean?

That wasn’t the only problem. I had scarcely received my ”free” contracted soft cover books when I began getting calls from one of the other representatives handling my account, pushing me to buy more books. Heck, I hadn’t even received the hard bound ones yet, nor had I gotten any of the promotional materials I had contracted for (posters, bookmarks, and postcards). Three months and numerous phone calls later, I finally have those in my possession—they arrived two days ago. I had been told they were mailed, when they weren’t, and I had to resort to getting one of the higher-ups in the company involved to make sure it was taken care of. She, at least, seemed competent and genuinely concerned with helping me.

In the meantime I had signed up for a class taught by my former instructor and mentor Gloria Campbell, offered through Bellevue College, entitled Book Coach. I recounted my publishing experience to her and received a wealth of helpful advice in return. I learned about what had changed in the market, indie publishing, true self publishing, the new world of on-demand printing, and much, much more. With that knowledge I decided to start my own publishing company. I designed my own promotional materials and began to learn how to do all the things I thought I had paid the vanity press to do for me, but for which they wanted to charge me a fortune after the fact.

Yesterday I sent my application to the State to start the process, got my tax ID number from the IRS, and bought a domain name, so I now officially have my own business. It’s only the beginning, and there is a great deal more I need to do and learn, but it feels good. The really good news for other budding authors out there is that you don’t have to go any of these routes if you don’t want to. You don’t have to crawl on your knees and beg a traditional publisher to take you on, nor do you have to sign up with a vanity press, or start your own company. You can publish through Amazon.com’s Create Space and take advantage of everything they have to offer—and it’s a great deal. As for me one thing is certain, I’m in charge, and the only limit to my success is me and the amount of time and money I can devote to it. I plan to hold some readings and signings soon, and I promise to keep you posted!

A Lot Can Happen in a Year!

I obviously hadn’t looked at my blog, Not a Natural Blonde, in a while, but today while editing my profile for LinkedIn.com, I was in for a shock. The last piece I wrote was in December 2010! Yikes! Well, I had THOUGHT of several things to write! I just hadn’t DONE it! Let me catch you up:

January 2011

I quit my job as Coordinator for ER Admitting at Valley Medical Center and went back to being a registrar again. I also went from evening shift to nights—another big change—in hopes that I would be able to find more time to spend with my horse and getting myself back in shape.

March

I bought a new horse, or I should say Sam bought me a new horse. After many “discussions” about what our retirement is going to look like, I finally convinced Sam that horses were going to be a permanent fixture—something he should know by now, since I’ve had at least one of them most of my life.

My new horse is a 10-year-old unregistered bay Quarter Horse mare named Schelline, and her claim to fame is that she was her former owner’s grandfather’s elk hunting horse. Grandpa reputedly fired his 30-0-6 rifle off her back and then packed the meat home with her. What I can tell you is that, while she doesn’t have as much training as I expected her to have, she is a lovely horse with a pleasant disposition, and we seem to get along fine—even though she seems to have what I call a Thoroughbred brain. She’s a sweetheart and seems to like her new home, though my other mare (my 27 year-old Arab mare Hadarah) tolerates her grudgingly because Schelline is the new boss. That’s life as an equine.

Unfortunately, instead of spending the summer trail riding, I fell at work and got a fractured dislocation of my left shoulder! I’m nearly through with physical therapy now (September), so I hope to start trail riding SOON.

May

Sam and I went back to Northeastern Oregon for a brief family visit, and in the meantime I put my old Tex Tan Western saddle up for sale at Elgin Boot & Saddle, the tack and feed store in Elgin, Oregon now run by my niece Chelsea and her husband Chris. I also ordered a brand-new custom-made Tucker trail saddle and all its accoutrements.

July

My 64th birthday: Gosh, I don’t FEEL that old!

August

I finally published my book of poetry, Howling at the Dark Side of the Moon, and it has turned out as well as I’d hoped it would. I am still in almost daily contact with the publisher (Trafford), however, because it’s becoming necessary to hound them to completely fulfill my contract. I have yet to receive the rest of the hard bound copies due me, plus today I learned it will take four to six weeks to get my promotional kit! Good grief, I could do one up myself on the computer in about half an hour and have Staples print the whole works off in a couple of days. Now I am looking into starting my own publishing company.

September

Vacation again, and off to Oregon to pickup my new saddle that I’ve been saving for. It’s a beauty, and I can hardly wait to throw it on Schelline and head off down the trail. Physical therapy for my shoulder will run into mid-October, but I’m gaining strength and flexibility every day and looking forward to getting back into riding my horses on a daily basis, as I used to.

I also have a number of knitting projects ahead for winter, but most of those are for evenings spent indoors while watching TV. This summer I discovered Noro, a Japanese company making a number of hand painted natural yarns made of mostly wool and silk. It has been called the most beautiful yarn in the world, and once you see and feel it, you won’t wonder why. One project I would love to make is a gorgeous hooded jacket, but I haven’t bought the yarn yet. At $18.95 per hank, and the project calls for 15 of them, it may take a while. This takes the subject of “yarn stash” to a completely new level! We shall see if I make it, but if I do, you will know.

I’m certain that much more happened over the course of the past year, but these are the highlights. And, I shall certainly not be so remiss in the future!

Enjoy, stay safe, and remember that the best things in life are not things.