#lovingmysilverhair #dyefree #5-2diet #naturalhair
What a difference 17 months can make. Late March of 2014 to August 1st 2015 I've only changed two things. First and foremost is of course, letting God choose the color of my hair. Second, I've been following the 5-2 diet, where you #fast (500) calories twice a week and eat what you like the other five days. Before you say you can't do it, I honestly didn't think I could either. BUT, I can honestly say I have never felt better in my life, and I've only been #fasting for four weeks.
#lovingmysilverhair #dyefree #5-2diet #naturalhair
Today marks my one year anniversary of the day I had the last traces of dye cut from my hair. My transition day as it is called. I went cold turkey. Going about my life with my skunk stripe blazing-and boy did it blaze! Trust me; I have the photos to prove it. My stripe is apparent in family photos, taken by the lake. As well as my passport photo-not to worry that thing is only good for ten years. I can say, with complete honesty, that I've never once regretted my decision to let my natural color shine. Nor did I have an issue with my skunk stripe during the transition. The only issue I had was during the first part of the transition when I tried to cover it up. I felt awkward, as if I were hiding. When I mentioned it to my hubby, his advice made all the difference in the world, "loud and proud baby." (Yes he is a keeper.) So, I stopped hiding and to be honest it felt much better. Most of the time, I would completely forget about my hair until I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Even then, instead of panicking, I would stop and pull my hair back, to see if it had grown any since the last time I checked.
I love short hair, always have, but I've been afraid to go to short given I have such a round face. But the day I got my pixie- boy was it short- was one of the happiest days of my life. For the first time in a long time, I was free! More importantly, I was me, all me. Even better, I was no longer a slave to once a month coloring that would zap my time, wallet and irritate my scalp for weeks. I've had my hair cut multiple times since that day, enjoying the added freedom of carefree hair. Today I find myself on a different journey, growing my hair out. Funny, I find I've struggled more with this decision than I ever did about going natural. You see, I love short hair, always have. And to be honest I really dislike long hair. It wakes me up at night, and blows in my face when I'm driving, or working in the yard. So, if I like short hair so much, why the decision to let it grow out? Simple curiosity. I love my color and want to see what it will look like with some length on it. I have seen so many amazing ladies with long, natural hair, that I'm afraid I will regret the decision if I don't give it a try. If I don't like it, I can always get it cut again. The exciting part is that when the time comes I will be able to pull it back without worrying about my roots showing. Maybe, deep down that is the true reason I want to grow it long, to pull it back and say, it's real, it's beautiful, and it's mine. Best of all, it didn't cost me a dime!
#silversister #lovingmysilver! #naturalhair #nomoreroots!
I realize I've been a bit inconsistent in my blogging of late, but truth be told, I've been on a bit of a writing hiatus. That is a tough thing for me to admit, and something I've struggled a great deal with. It's just that life has thrown me some pretty big hurtles over the last six months -longer since I am being truthful. But the last six months have been the true test. It all started with my husband's first heart attack. Yes, I said first, as he has now had two of the buggers. Thankfully, he has had a fantastic team of doctors who have not only put him back together but also, installed four stents to insure-God willing- that he will be around for many more years to come. Now if my hubby's health issues were not enough to stress me out, a job change for him demanded we had to sell our home and move to Pennsylvania. Never one to take the easy way out I convinced my hubby that I wanted to do a for -sale- by- owner. The practical side of me knew that I could do it, if given the opportunity. At first my hubby baulked, while he has faith in me, this was a huge undertaking-one I've never done before. So I did what I'm best at, I did the research, wrote out the pros and cons -there really weren't many cons- and stated my case. Much to my delight and horror, he agreed to let me have a go at it. To tell the truth, it was not a horrible experience. Unless, you count the fact that the hubby had his second heart attack two weeks after we put the house on the market! Maybe he was more stressed about my trying to sell the house than he let on. He shouldn't have been, as it turns out the universe had our back and things worked out just fine. We not only had an offer on our home within eighteen days of listing it, were also able to make an offer on a beautiful new home in PA. It was a scary thirty days, hoping that the planets would continue to align, but align they did. We closed on our old home and had an offer accepted on our new home, and for the most part, things went smoothly. The move was stressful; they always are, but this one even more so. On the day our furniture arrived, I received a phone call. It was one that I expected, but one I prayed would never come, the passing of my favorite aunt. A long term breast cancer survivor, she'd been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer last year and given six months to live. Those doctors sure are accurate. So, a couple days later, with my house still filled with boxes, I drove to Kentucky to say my final goodbyes. The drive there was not so bad. I think I had tunnel vision, my only focus getting to my destination. The drive home on the other hand felt as if it took forever, my loss weighing heavy on my heart. When I returned home there was so much left to do. I think in some ways unpacking helped, it kept me busy, made me focus on what needed to be done.
This past weekend, one month to the day of my aunt's passing, I was in Kentucky signing books at the Southern Kentucky Bookfest. I had thought of my aunt multiple times over the course of the day, had even brought along a satchel my aunt had made for me. Still, that did not prepare me for my aunt to walk through the door. Okay, obviously it was not her; however this lady looked so much like my aunt that tears instantly welled in my eyes. I watched as she walked down the aisle across from me, and then made her way back towards me. As she approached I spoke to her, telling her she looked just like my favorite aunt, saying she'd recently passed away. The lady said she was sorry. To which I assured her that her resemblance was a good thing, then asked for a hug. I think it's safe to say my emotions got the best of me. Thankfully this complete stranger did not see anything wrong with my request and complied. We chatted for several moments before she continued on her way. Moments later my husband, came in to check on me. I told him what had happened, and before I could point the lady out, he found her. She returned and spoke with the two of us, My husband agreed that this lady not only looked like my aunt, she sounded like her and had the same mannerisms. As crazy as it sounds I feel the lady was sent there that day to help heal my heart. It was good seeing "Aunt Dianna" once more and watching her walk around the room. Maybe it is because my "real" Aunt Dianna has been in a wheelchair in recent years. I feel as though this was my aunt's way of letting me know she's doing okay. More than that, her way of letting me know that I'm going to be okay too. As of this writing, things finally seem to be returning to normal. The boxes are unpacked, my office is officially put together, the husband is settling into his new job and on the road to recovery. The new house is fantastic, the view even better, and while I still miss my aunt I know she is near. Sometimes near enough to touch.
#hugfromastranger #dearlydeparted #Pennsylvania #healthyheart
My most memorable date was with a man I'll refer to as LB. It was late in my sixteenth year, LB was three years older than I. LB was hot and had an even hotter car- a red and white sixties model Ford Fairlane. I was ecstatic when he asked me to go out with him-my girlfriends were going to be so jealous!
On the way to the movie I decided LB might not be all I expected him to be. Maybe that was because he showed up in a red suit that matched his car-one that was specially made just for him. Or maybe it was the white blousy shirt and matching scarf. Okay, it was the late seventies, so maybe not all that crazy to some. However, to me it was clear that LB was very into himself, and REALLY loved his car. By the time we reached the movie theater it was raining. LB gathered his umbrella, shielding HIS head as we walked towards the building. Once inside, the first thing he did was check to make certain he had not gotten his hair wet. I honestly cannot remember what movie we watched, hopefully he sprang for popcorn so the evening wasn't a total loss, again I do not recall.
By the time the movie let out the rain had passed, but small puddles still pooled in the parking lot. Once inside the car LB turned the key, but the engine refused to start. To my utter delight LB then had to scoot under the car to fix whatever it was that kept it from starting, so much for him not getting wet. I wonder if he was able to hear the giggles that escaped me, as I heard him banging on the undercarriage of the car.
While he was not happy, he did shake it off, and stay in good spirits for the drive home. At one point he commented to me that I did not need to sit so far away. A comment I pretended not to hear. It was a bench seat and I had pressed myself against the passenger door, having no desire to get any closer than necessary during the drive home. Something good did come of that night, as LB taught me a cute limerick on the way home. Funny, I still remember how it goes. Be warned, it's not for the faint of heart.
I'm standing over my dead dog Rover that I overran with the mower.
One leg is missing the other is gone.
One leg is scattered all over the lawn.
I'm standing over my dead dog Rover that I overran with the mower.
What a memorable ending to my date with the hot guy...Thanks for the memories LB.
I get the most annoying hiccups. I' not talking about the cute little hic hic that most people get. I'm talking about evil that rises from the pit of my stomach in gut wrenching spasms which wrench upwards flailing out of my mouth, making me sound like something from prehistoric times. I got them from my mom, not sure who she inherited them from. I must admit that I used to despise them. Until, they saved my life. It was two years ago, and I was traveling home from an out of state book signing. The signing had lasted into the late afternoon and I hit the road thinking I would stop and get a hotel after a few hours. Unfortunately, a summer storm had passed through the part of West Virginia and Virginia I was driving through knocking out power all along my route. I tried stopping for a motel numerous times to no avail. Most towns were completely dark; the hotels in those towns closed for business. The few along the way that had power were full with residents from surrounding towns. I had no choice but to drive the entire way home. Sometime around one in the morning I was in danger of falling asleep at the wheel. I cast my eyes upwards and said "I need a little help here, something that will keep me awake, not a deer or anything scary but I need something." Within minutes I found myself with a case of the worse hiccups I've ever had. At first I was upset, thinking that my situation had gone from bad to worse. Then I realized the hiccups were exactly what I had asked for, and the violent force which they were delivered more than enough to keep me awake. I drove for two hours hiccupping so loud that people in passing cars could probably hear me, but with each and every convulsion I was grateful that my prayer had been answered in such a fantastically unique way. #thelordworksinmysteriousways!
Ah October, it is my favorite month. Is it because October is when I was welcomed into the world? Or could it be because the month is so colorful? October gifts us with a vast array of fall foliage, delightfully cool days, and tantalizing fall produce. October lends itself to spooky tales, and ghoulish festivities, sure to send a chill up even the sturdiest of spines. It is a month that can make witches appealing, ghosts and ghouls welcomed, and challenge even the stingiest of souls to dig into their pockets, in order to buy candy for beggars that come to their door. October makes outings fun. Whether hiking in colorful forests, or walking along leaf filled streets deliberately stepping on the discarded leaves, just to hear them crunch. Yes, there is so much to love about the month of October. Pumpkin patches, apple orchards, hay rides, fresh brewed cider, and don't forget snuggling with that special someone, just to keep warm. Happy October everyone, make sure to take time out of your busy schedules to enjoy all the month has to offer.
This morning I was sitting in the waiting room at my doctor's office when I saw something that piqued my interest on social media. It was a post stating that Krispy Kreme was selling a dozen donuts for the unheard of sum of .77 cents. Now up until that particular moment I did not even want a donut, much less twelve of them. But then I remembered I had to drive right past the Krispy Kreme store on my way home. At that moment I knew that I would be stopping. Upon posting and sharing on Facebook I also found out that while the deal was correct, there was a slight catch. In order to purchase a dozen donuts for the special price, you must pay full price for a second dozen. This meant that my twelve donuts just became twenty-four. What on earth was I going to do with twenty-four donuts? Eat them is the logical answer, but not the best answer. Seriously, I rarely allow myself that luxury, and when I do, I normally share a single donut with my hubby, just to help lessen the ill effects. So, while common sense dictated that I forgo the guilty pleasures, the bargain hunter in me fought traffic and finally found an illegal parking place on the street, well away from the buildings own parking lot. I skirted thru traffic, hopped the ditch, making my way through the sea of cars, and safely into the building. There I was met with a long line of people waiting their turn to order the tasty treats. The line wrapped around the entire inside of the building and yet I did not see a single person stick their head in the door, access the crowd and turn away. No, we were all in this together, all seeking to take part of that wonderful deal. As I neared the counter the woman on the business side of the counter called out that they were all out of chocolate glazed. This really irritated the gentleman in front of me who belted out a rant about how that was his sole purpose in coming here. You would have thought the man would have left after hearing the news. I mean since they were out of what he proclaimed at being his sole purpose and all, but as the line moved forward so did he. A deal is a deal after all, even if it's not the deal you wanted. Twenty-three minutes after I walked into the building I left with two dozen original donuts, which cost me just over eight dollars, and still had no idea what I was going to do with them.
I thought I had found my answer when driving home and realized I was speeding. I just smiled and glanced at the boxes of donuts. Sadly, I mean fortunately, I didn't have a chance to see if it was a cliché or if in fact police officers really do like donuts...
On my way home I had to stop and pick up a prescription. Even though my doctor had wired it in nearly an hour prior to my arrival the prescription was not ready. This was not the first time; it happens this way each time. It is the pharmacy's version of the .77 cent dozen. They give you fifteen minutes to shop while you wait; knowing that in most cases in that fifteen minutes you will find something you simply cannot live without. These things, the freebees, the discounts, the fifteen minute waits are all brilliant marketing ploys set forth by the industry to real us in. It works too, just look at me. I'm a prime example, as I write, I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do with the twenty-THREE donuts that are now sitting on my counter. *Burp*
Today's crazy post of the day... This morning when driving to the Y, I was following behind a vehicle which was traveling way below the posted speed limit. For nearly a mile I followed at speeds sometimes as low as 25 in a 35. As soon as the road opened up, and gave way to a second lane I shot past the SUV. The driver, a woman, was on her cell phone and oblivious to the string of cars traveling behind her. After I passed I eased back into the lane she was in and continued along my way. I turned onto Battlefield. She followed, keeping her distance once again blocking the way of those traveling behind her. As it turned out she was heading to the same place as I, pulling in several moments later with her phone still glued to her ear. I sat in my truck for several moments telling myself to behave. I watched as she parked, and walked through the parking lot, in front of a moving car, still chatting on her phone. I resisted the urge to say something to her, figuring nothing good would have come of the "discussion." Moments later we were in the same locker room. By now she'd ended her call and still I debated speaking with her. I'm not really sure what I wanted to say, but her actions had rubbed me the wrong way. Turns out she was going to the pool, now I was really going to have to say something. I mean if she couldn't drive then no way was she going to stay out of my way in the pool. Luckily, for both of us, she went to the lap pool instead of the therapy pool, so no discussion was necessary. I was in "my" pool still fuming when it dawned on me I was allowing this woman's actions to ruin my morning. Why? Because she made me late to the pool? It wasn't like I was in a hurry to begin with. Truth be told, I was only upset because she wasn't paying attention. So I told myself to get over it and lose the negativity. As I did this the woman's locker room door opened. It does that on occasion, when people push the button, but there was no one standing there. From my vantage point I could see there was no one on the inside of the locker room waiting to exit either. The door simply opened and closed seemingly on its own. I laughed to myself thinking that it was the negativity leaving the building... It just goes to show that if someone pisses you off you can keep it bottled up and let it dictate how your day is going to go. Or, you can send it packing and allow yourself to find something to make you smile. In my case letting go of my anger showed that when one door closed the other one opened, this time in a very literal way... thought for the day, let go of your anger and find something to make you smile!
It is common for me to have four plus storylines going at any given time. I am often given new ideas when I am in the middle of working on something. When that happens I will open a folder within my future storyline file and jot down any information which is given to me. Normally doing so will do the trick, and that voice will back off and wait its turn. When I finish working on a manuscript and am ready to begin another, I will open my future storyline file and read through until something pulls at me. Sometimes it takes a few days or even weeks of my working on several manuscripts before one takes the lead. When that happens I lock the others back into place and focus on the lead storyline. Occasionally during this process one or more of the other voices will pop in and give me something important that pertains to their storyline. Rarely will this happen during normal writing hours, it is often during off times, after I have finished for the day. The information I receive is never ambiguous. I always know exactly which story the information goes with, so, I am able to take the information and stick it into the folder for which it was intended. That is why my current WIP is so perplexing. Because, even though my time travel voice is speaking the loudest, and demanding to be next, the stuff it gives me is so erratic. The voice will give me information, good information, I will take it and run with it, and then the next thing I know it is like, yea that is good, but what do you think about this? I have never worked with a voice that has been so indecisive. Normally the information given is clear and concise. It makes me wonder, is this particular voice new to the "voice community." A rookie, so to speak, and simply having trouble focusing, or does this indecisive voice have ADD? Can voices have ADD? I have been working on this storyline since mid August 2013 and have had to revamp the beginning several times so that the story could go in a different direction. The poor heroine has undergone three name changes, although I am fairly confident that the last one is permanent. I also thought I knew what was going to happen when she goes back in time, but that scenario changes frequently. It is almost as if my voices are all sitting around a table discussing the manuscript and one of them pitched a new idea that they all liked better. Or, if this current voice is a rookie, maybe he took what he had to the experts who were like, well that is good, but what do you think of this? Maybe there is a simpler explanation. Could it be that the issue is with time travel itself? Maybe the voices have to keep popping back in time to make sure the storyline is meshing the way it needs to. I am not sure, but the story is fun and unique, with an introvert heroine who decides to be a princess for a day. The Navy SEAL hero suffering from PTSD, who tries to capture her heart. A pocket size beagles with a full size attitude (once real, they are now a thing of the past) time travel, lost souls and pirates. While my voice may be indecisive he/she has some awesome ideas!
In the beginning I felt that my new suspense novel, Surviving the Storm, was going to be a trilogy. Then, as I was writing, I started second guessing myself. So in the end I tied it all up in one complete manuscript. Later, when speaking to one of my Beta readers (pre-readers), she said she thought I should end it (at the point I'd originally planned) and have a sequel. As soon as she said this I could almost feel my voices doing the happy dance. It was like a weight, that I hadn't even knew existed, was lifted from my shoulders. The feeling told me my voices were pleased. I guess they have more faith in me than I sometimes have in myself. Actually I should qualify, they have more faith in their ability, I am only the vessel with which they work. So my mind immediately started racing with the possibilities. I e-mailed my editor, who was at that time reading the STS manuscript, and asked "what if we were to end it at the end of said chapter?" I explained that I had originally thought it a trilogy. The next thing I knew she e-mailed me back saying, " you're right it should be a trilogy." Wait! That was not what I'd just suggested. Still at reading that, my voices were literally cheering inside my head. They had gotten their way. They'd gotten their trilogy! So, as the manuscript moved forward towards becoming a book and we got to the cover design, I agreed to the trilogy. I was a bit frightened. as I had a beginning, book one. I also have an ending, book three (which is well underway) but I had no idea what was going to happen in book two. I mentioned that fact to the beta reader who had pushed me in this direction in the first place and after going back and forth over several possibilities she said three little words that sent chills running up along my spine. It was the perfect way to continue on to the second book. While I wish I could share what she said, it would be a total spoiler, and I hate spoilers! Just be certain that there is indeed a book two being disclosed to me, and the voices are pleased with the direction the story is heading, chatting away merrily, giving me fodder for my manuscript. I realize all this talk about hearing voices may sound crazy to some, okay to most, but if crazy means writing some really cool stuff, I'll take crazy any day! What more can I say, I have some wickedly good voices!
SURVIVING THE STORM , Book #1 of the Storm Trilogy, was released, Friday, June 13, 2014. Have you acquired your copy yet?
#Surviving the storm #Ihearvoices #Hurricane Katrina