Give Voice To Your Heart

(Click on the picture to read the words in the heart!)

That is the theme of this year’s “The Woman Within” Lenten speaker series at my church. It’s the fourth year of this program and this year will run for four weeks. Last night we, as women, were encouraged to give voice to what is in our hearts, and so I thought what better time to start blogging again? I know, I know, I’ve had a couple of false starts already, but this is Lent, and therefore a time to make changes for the good. The results of last year’s Lenten changes have been phenomenal, and turned my life upside down.

Last year at this time, I was a total workaholic. Anytime someone asked me what I was doing, “working” was the answer. That and keeping up with my son’s schedule. Making sure he got to where he needed to be when he needed to be there. In short, he was the one with the life, not me. I knew something had to change, or one day he would grow up and be gone, and I’d be left home with the cats, still working all the time.

I’d already unwittingly started in on my plan for change, as a blog post I wrote in June of 2010 entitled “There’s No Excuse for Being Bored” morphed into an article published last January in my diocese’s Faith Magazine (click on January/February 2011 issue, pages 8 and 9). In it, I listed a host of activities offered through the church bulletin, church newspaper, and Faith Magazine, and basically said that life is out there, waiting, for anyone who chooses to participate. Life is Out There...Waiting! was in fact the title of the article.

With that thought in mind, I began to craft a new life for myself, one full of fun, friends, and all sorts of social activities. But it wasn’t enough. I was out and about, having fun, but wanted someone special to share that fun with. So in July of 2010 I took the leap and joined an online dating site. Nine months and maybe a dozen dead end conversations later, I had a file folder full of notes and information on how dating sites do and don’t work (no experience is ever wasted when you’re a writer), but still no partner.

In March, I decided to give up that ghost and concentrate on Me. March, I eventually declared in my blog posts, was “Me” month. For the month of March, I would focus only on what nourished me--mentally, physically, and spiritually. I’d read more books, pray more, exercise more, clear the clutter in my home and life, attend only lectures and events that spoke to me personally, and in general just be good to myself. To that end, I added a third Qigong class to my week, this one held on Sunday mornings.

Qigong is something I’ve been interested in for more than a decade, but somehow never made the time for. Finally, I joined a class taught clear across town. My friends were amazed. You go to class where? For the previous 24 years I’d pretty much limited myself to local activities held on my side of town, or within a very limited driving distance (my occasional trips to out-of-town conferences and such notwithstanding.)

Suddenly I was driving across town three times a week, meeting new people, and making friends outside my comfort zone. Then, lo and behold, one Sunday morning, in walks this man, who, unbeknownst to me, fit the section of my online dating profile headed “What I am Looking For” to a tee. Three months later several students from our class headed to Niagara Falls for a Tai Chi workshop (Tai Chi being a form of Qigong), and the two of us just “clicked.”

We’ve been seeing each other ever since.

Which is one reason why my blogging fell off. Instead of working all the time, I now focus on work during the weekdays, and spend my evenings and weekends tootling around with him. We go to class, go to church, go to concerts, car shows, festivals, dances, dinners, games, and wine tastings. We take trips, and have been to Canada, Michigan, West Virginia, Maryland, Ohio, and New York. We flew to South Dakota, visited the National Music Museum. We’re headed to Texas, next. In between trips, we trundle around town taking care of errands and visiting friends. We collect recipes, go grocery shopping, and cook. We watch movies and volunteer for community service together. We attend all my son’s special activities.

But none of this would have happened if I hadn’t given voice to my heart. My heart felt a lack, and so I did something about it. Through my article in Faith Magazine I put it out there, into the universe, that there was no excuse for being lonely or bored, and then, though my online dating profile, I put it out there what I was looking for.

I spoke from the heart, and my voice was heard.

So today’s question is: What is your voice telling you? Is there a lack in your life? What is it you need to bring you closer to being the person you want to be? More time in prayer? More exercise? More “Me” time? More family time? More social activities? More active involvement in your church or community?

I seriously doubt it’s “More work.”

Take time out this week to be still and listen to that voice within. They say peace and contentment comes when the person you are and the person you want to be are one and the same.

Who are you? Who do you want to be?

Even if you’re not Catholic, like I am, Lent--or spring, if you prefer--is a good time of year, a time of rebirth and renewal, to take time out to consider these questions and--either by your actions, or through your words, or both--give voice to your heart.

Guest Author, LK Hunsaker

Today's guest is LK Hunsaker, friend and fellow author whom I plan to kidnap one day and take with me to a writer's conference, preferably somewhere warm. Until then, we'll just have to find our "steam" in our writing, LOL. LK makes a great point, in that who we are as people is not necessarily reflected in our characters -- more often we write about who we wish we were, or wish we could be...or take the best (and maybe sometimes the worst) characteristics of those around us and bring them to life...but that's the beauty of writing...we can make our characters be anyone we want them to be. And LK has some special characters she wants to share with us today, characters sharing a very special moment, exploring the power and beauty of human touch, so sit back and enjoy. I know after reading this and other excerpts from Moondrops & Thistles, this exceptional story has moved to the top of my TBR pile. Welcome, LK!

Hello Liana! It’s so nice to come and play today. :-)

While I was trying to come up with something decently creative to post here that I haven’t already said or answered, one of the followers for my blog contest in relation to the tour had a suggestion of a possible topic of discussion:

“I'm waiting for you to reveal something about what inspires you to write the "steamy" parts!”

Now granted, my steamy parts (and I do mean in my books) are not all that steamy. I’m more an inward-looking psychological writer. I’m more mental than touch-feely and to tell the truth, I’m not big on hugs, personally. I have characters who love hugs. And I do like virtual hugs because it sometimes is the thought that counts! And that’s where my steamy parts come in.

How many of you have caught view of the “perfect” man or woman, visually perfect according to your personal taste, and wondered what it would be like to actually touch that person’s face? Has anyone not ever done that? Yes, it’s okay if you’re in a permanent relationship and still do it. From my psych training I fully remember that fantasy is a perfectly normal and very healthy part of life, whatever your status. It can even improve your long-term marriage to fantasize. It’s good for you! It can also be good for your partner, because let’s face it, when you’re happier, your partner is likely to be happier.

I’ve read author interviews where the writer says her heroes are based on her husband. I find it incredibly sweet. I also find it a little too personal for me. Nope, I might grab a few of my husband’s personality traits, such as with Daws and his ability to handle any job that’s thrown at him, which has always had my unfailing admiration, but when it comes to the steamy stuff ... that stays separate.

My personal life and my work are both joined and separate. My fiction is me and yet it’s not.

The steamy parts come from basic biology and the fact that touch is an incredible adrenaline rush as well as a mental stabilizer. Wow, did I just throw ice on the whole romance writing thing? Okay, so it comes from when I read a tender scene or watch one in a movie or see that “perfect” type somewhere and feel the mental rush of possibility, of pulse racing, of “what if,” of how it would feel to touch his face, just once of course. Yes, face touching is prevalent in my books. Sometimes it goes beyond that.

In real life, I would never touch a strange man’s face, regardless of how perfect he is physically. That’s where fiction comes in. Fantasy is healthy. Why else would romance be the #1 best selling genre year after year?

I hope Liana won’t mind that I got so steamy on her blog, but it is appropriate, since she was kind enough to read through my first real love scene, written for Moondrops & Thistles: shorter & spicier edition, and okay it before it went out.

I’m going to leave you with a lead in to that scene. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook of Moondrops short & spicy! And go to my blog next for a chance to win the full print version, personally signed, plus a transforming mug with the cover art, and a Support Our Troops bracelet: http://lkhunsaker.blogspot.com

Moondrops & Thistles: shorter & spicier edition

LK Hunsaker

Excerpt:

“What do they do?”

She sighed again. “Mom is the typical homemaker who doesn’t do anything but that. I used to try to get her to do anything else, pick up a craft, play cards with the girls, something. She would never do it. I think because Dad doesn’t want her to do anything else. Can’t tell you how much I resented that she’d let him run her life that way.”

Daws nodded to himself. Made sense. Explained her insistence about being independent, not allowing him to “take charge” as though he might want to. “What does he do?”

“Oh. He lays floors. Or used to. He’s retired now. He also did some cement work. Things like that. And he took care of animals now and then. That changed with the year. We had chickens for a while, goats, turkeys, peacocks that made the most dreadful noise, and a couple of horses he tried to breed but they didn’t seem to like each other much.”

He chuckled. “Man of many interests.”

“Man who couldn’t commit to one thing. Drove Mom crazy.”

“And you.”

She looked up at him, questioning.

“That why you’re determined to stick this job out, like it or not?”

“No.” She turned her eyes forward again, down at the sidewalk. “I’m sticking it out because it’s the one thing I’ve wanted more than anything in the world and I’m not willing to let go of the chance only because a few morons try to stop me.”

By the tone of her voice, Daws decided it was again time to route around. “Have siblings?”

“A few. And I don’t want to try to explain them so how about we let that go?”

“Okay.”

“You’re offended now.”

“Not at all.”

"You sound like you are.” She stopped and faced him. “I left all that behind on purpose. It’s no longer part of me. Of my life. Any more than yours seems to be.”

He studied her eyes. So firm, resolved. Of course she had to know better. Your family roots weren’t ever fully left behind. His weren’t, regardless of how he tried. They never would be. Not enough. “I’m sorry you felt you had to put it behind you.”

“Yeah. Well, it happens.”

Daws raised a hand to her face. “If you ever decide you want to talk about it, I’m always willing to listen. But I’ll understand if you don’t.”

“Will you tell me more about yours?”

“Nothing much more to say about mine.”

“I don’t think I believe that, but I’ll give you the same offer.” Deanna brushed his lips, hinting. “Ready to go in yet or are you still afraid of me?”

“Yes.”

“To which?”

“Both.” With a quick grin, he led her to his building and walked her up the stairs.

As she settled in, he pulled out two hard lemonades and took them to the couch where she sat with bare feet pulled to her side. Deanna accepted one of the bottles, looked at it quizzically, and peered into his eyes.

“Am I right?”

“How did you know? Did I slip up and tell you?”

He gave her another grin, took a long swallow, and rubbed a hand over her shoulder with a light massage.

“Guess it’s true.” She returned the favor by caressing his leg.

“What’s true?”

“You’re not bothered by feet. At least by my bare feet on your couch.”

He caught her eyes as he took another swallow, and set the drink out of his way. “Are you ticklish?” At her raised eyebrows, he clarified. “Your feet.”

“No.”

Daws slid his hands around the leg she had resting atop the other and coerced it gently until her knee bent upward and her foot rested against his leg. He soothed a hand over top. “Can’t imagine anyone bothered by them.”

“Well, it’s not very classy, I guess, to run around the house with bare feet. Not sure why it isn’t since they are clean...” She broke off as he began to massage her foot.

He watched her face to be sure it didn’t tickle and he wasn’t too rough. Her eyes closed, her head dropped back, and her expression ... made his body tighten. It took little encouragement to get her to shift to the end of the couch, allowing access to both feet. And she pried her lemonade between her thighs for security, to prevent spilling it as her body loosened, relaxed.

“That feels incredible.”

“Does it?” He pressed his thumbs up the middle of her feet, watched her breasts rise as her shoulders arched back. The buttons of her blouse pulled against their holes. Her fingers gripped the edge of his couch.

Suddenly, she pulled away, put her bottle on the table, and pressed in against him, her mouth to his, arms around his neck. He tasted the lemonade on her tongue, felt her breasts surge with her breaths. He circled her small waist and encouraged her closer. It took little encouragement. She was fire. Bright. Hot. Piercing his armor of what he thought was thick as Kevlar. She was proving how wrong he was. It wasn’t Kevlar. It was aluminum. Durable. But not unbendable.

Buy Link:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/31804
(shorter and spicier edition)

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/71151
(full edition, also at BN.com or at your local indie store from Indiebound.org)

Win With Number Sixteen on the 16th!

Once again I'm participating in The Romance Studio's Year End Splash Party, this time giving away an autographed copy of my all-time favorite book to write, Thin Ice. What better way to celebrate hockey season than with a copy of Eric and Emily's award-winning story about second chances?

All you have to do is answer question Number 16 -- coincidentally today's date and Eric's number as captain of the Minneapolis Saints -- for your chance to win! In the meantime, here's an excerpt to give you a taste of what's in store for our soon-to-be family...Emily has finally given in to her eight-year-old son Robbie's fervent desire to play hockey and doesn't know where to begin to get him the equipment he needs. A not-so-chance meeting at a skating rink leads her to ask Eric for advice. With a big smile, he tells her he knows just where to go.

The door opened and a wiry black man in a blue plaid flannel shirt and jeans stepped back to admit them. “Eric, good to see you,” he said. “Your stuff came in Friday afternoon.”

“Glad to hear it, but that’s not why I called. Sam, I’d like you to meet Emily Jordan and her son, Robbie.”

Sam smiled in welcome. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jordan. Robbie. I was just making some coffee.” He turned and checked the pot. “It’s almost done. Anyone care for a cup?”

Emily declined, but Eric accepted. After a brief pow-wow with Eric about the Saints’ chances for making the playoffs while the coffee finished brewing, Sam turned to Emily with a warm smile. “What can we do for you today, Ms. Jordan, besides bore you with a lot of meaningless statistics?”

“Meaningless?” From the sound of it they’d been discussing the team’s chances as intently as she’d consult with Augustus about a critically ill patient.

“Absolutely. Because no matter what the sports gurus say, the Saints are going all the way...and this guy right here is the one who’s going to take them.” He clapped Eric on the back, nearly sloshing the coffee Eric was staring into all over his front. “Yes ma’am, you’ve hooked up with a real champion here. Captain Cameron to the rescue.”

The light in the storefront was dim, but Emily would have sworn she saw Eric’s ears redden. “Emily doesn’t really follow the sport, Sam,” he said quietly.

Sam looked at her in startled surprise, then back at Eric. “She doesn’t?” As if such a thing was inconceivable.

“No, but Robbie does, and he’s joining the Mites League. I’d like you to set him up with the works.”

“Sure. No problem. Got everything he needs right here. Top of the line.”

Within minutes Robbie looked like a miniature gladiator. Emily felt a sharp pinch in her purse as the two men outfitted her son with layer upon layer of padding, the three of them conversing in a sports jargon she couldn’t begin to comprehend. Secure in the knowledge her son was in the hands of experts, she changed her mind about Sam’s offer of coffee and poured herself some.

She cradled the styrofoam cup in her hands and strolled over to the window. Peering through the dusty horizontal blinds, she studied the Suburban. Five years old already when she’d bought it last year, it desperately needed a tune-up and new tires. That might have to wait again, now with Robbie’s newest expenses. Between paying off her school loans, Robbie’s tuition and helping out her family, she was pushing her financial limits to the wall. And with the cost of gas these days...

She sighed. There were times when she wished she didn’t have to drive such a big vehicle, but that was one phobia she couldn’t seem to get rid of.

She turned away from the window and found Sam gone and Eric crouched before Robbie, testing the fit of his equipment. She sipped her coffee and felt the sting of tears as Robbie solemnly answered Eric’s quiet questions. What she wouldn’t give to have her family see Robbie right now. But home wasn’t somewhere she could ever go again. Not as long as her father was alive. She wondered how her mother was doing, if her health was holding up. It was times like this, when she felt closest to Robbie, that she missed her own mother the most.

Sam reappeared with a fistful of hockey sticks, a pair of black leather skates and a huge white jersey. As her son stood there in a pair of black padded pants that looked five sizes too big but apparently fit perfectly, Eric slid the suspenders up over Robbie’s shoulder pads, then dropped the huge jersey over his head. He asked Robbie to sit, then laced his skates. Only her son’s face and hands resembled anything close to an eight year old’s, and even that changed once Eric settled a hard red plastic helmet with a grid mask on Robbie’s head.

Eric adjusted the chinstrap, while Sam handed Robbie a huge pair of padded black gloves to try on.

“So, what do you think, Ms. Jordan?” Sam asked, grinning.

Eric and Robbie looked her way, Robbie more still than Emily could remember him being while awake.

“I think you look wonderful,” she told her son, her voice catching. “I can’t wait to see you in action.”

Robbie let out a whoop of joy. Emily lifted her eyes to Eric’s, not caring that he saw the emotion in them. “Thank you,” she mouthed, as Robbie waddled over to Sam to select a stick.

Eric’s answering smile touched her mother’s heart. “If that doesn’t keep him safe, nothing will.”

For more information, go to my website.

To purchase Thin Ice, New Jersey Romance Writers Golden Leaf and EPPIE award winner, go here.

Thank you, and have a great day!

The Summer that Was...and Wasn't

It’s been a while since I blogged regularly, but what better day to get back into the swing of things than my first (of three) special days in The Romance Studio’s Year End Splash party? A little bit about me, for those who are stopping by for the first time (Welcome!!) today: I write deeply emotional and satisfying stories with a hint of danger and enough spice to keep you turning the pages. Here on the blog, my posts are a combination of health, healing, wellness, and inspiration. I draw my inspiration from an incredibly supportive group of friends, from church ladies to convicts, two of whom are my friends Louis, who is serving a life sentence in prison, and Marc, who has recently been paroled.

You might call them my muses, as their struggles and stories inspire me daily, and help me to keep things in perspective. My worst day out here can’t even begin to compare with their best day behind bars. I remember times when Louis would call, and I would vent about something or other for probably 14 of the 15 minutes allotted for the phone call, and then days later I would receive a letter telling me someone he knew had been stabbed that day, and suddenly I would feel so small.

He had called for well, I wouldn’t say comfort, because that’s not Louis’s style—he’s a tough guy through and through—but perhaps to hear a voice of sanity in the middle of a truly insane place. And what did I do? Rant about some dumb stuff I don’t even remember. But you can believe Louis will remember that day, or any day someone was life-flighted out of the complex due to a sudden eruption of violence.

Things can happen extremely fast in prison, as we found out last May, when Louis was suddenly spirited away to another facility several hours away. It just went to show that when they want to move you, they can do so at the speed of light. (And when they don’t, they can move slower than molasses, as they demonstrated a few years ago when he spent nine months in isolation, awaiting a transfer.) One day he was as happy as a clam, starting his new job out in the yard and looking forward to enjoying his summer, the next he was the only non-capital case inmate on Death Row. Just like that.

Yep. The DOC can keep any inmate in isolation for as long as they want to, and even on Death Row, which was where Louis spent 6 weeks of his summer--while I was out having my best summer in recent memory.

Talk about polar opposites. Like the night I was at the U2 Concert in Pittsburgh, singing my fool head off along with 60,000 other fans, it seemed almost surreal that Louis was less than 45 minutes away, in solitary confinement, for no reason any sane person could discern.

He spent the summer filing appeals. I spent the summer going to parties and concerts.

112 days later, he was returned to the facility he had been spirited away from almost four months earlier, but by then his summer was over.

It was like he slipped into a worm hole, or a time portal, and then suddenly months later he popped out again, and not a word was said. It was like it didn’t even happen. He’s now back at his original facility, has regained his job and re-joined his classes, and in general settled into life in population all over again. But he knows and I know it can all disappear with the swish of a pen or the click of a mouse.

No doubt he always knew that. He’s been living his unpredictable life for over 33 years. Me, I still have blinders on at times. I still expect the world to make sense. But the swiftness with which he literally vanished from my life after ten years of friendship really opened my eyes. Reminded me of how fragile life is, how circumstances, anyone’s circumstances, can change in a heartbeat, and inspired me to get out from behind my computer and live while I still can.

So that’s what I’ve been doing these past months that I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been out having fun. In June, I went on a field trip with my Qigong classmates to Niagara Falls, where we participated in an all day Tai Chi workshop (with an awesome lunch included) overlooking the falls. The 4^th of July was a full weekend of good company, good food and even better music I’ll never forget. My son, who plays guitar, and I got together with some friends who know how to make music, and played classic rock and roll songs well into the night. I had happy bruises on my left palm and right thigh for a week afterward from playing some serious tambourine. Later in July I got to see U2 under the stars. In August I had family come to visit (three times!!), and we spent the bulk of our time playing miniature golf and eating authentic German food and buffalo pot roast. (Those who know me know I’m always on the lookout for a great pot roast.)

In September I boogied to Detroit to see an awesome Alison Krauss concert. In October I traveled back in time for my high school reunion, another never-to-be-forgotten weekend of music, dancing, good food, good friends, and good memories.

And in the midst of all of this…after 9 months of fruitless clicking and maybe a dozen short term conversations on an online dating site…I met someone special in my own back yard.

And so today, as November rolls into year’s end and the snow begins to fly, I’m home making a huge pot of harvest vegetable soup, and count myself blessed to have four special men in my life—my son, who over the summer evolved into a fine young man I am super proud to know; Louis, my friend and muse of over a decade who I’ve been blessed to visit three times since his return from the worm hole and who continues to inspire me daily; Marc, whom I see weekly to help with mundane chores such as laundry and shopping while he continues to search for work and establish a fresh start in life; and my new friend, who now joins me on my road trip adventures and makes sure I continue to take time away from the computer to simply enjoy life.

So, as we tumble into this Year End Splash with The Romance Studio, I wish you good times, good food, good music, and most of all, good friends and family to share it all with. Be sure to answer today’s question number two at The Romance Studio, from my murder mystery romance Ashton’s Secret, which takes place during a summer my heroine, Meghan, will also never forget. You’ll find the answer on my website, in the excerpts section.

Good luck in the contest, and stay safe and warm, wherever you are.

The Romance Reviews Year End Splash Party

Goodness, while I haven't been around much, the blog has been chugging along, with guests stopping by regularly. So sorry I haven't been here! I'm still trying to catch up after a summer of Qigong, concerts, out of town guests, and road trips. Will write an update on all of that, including my fledgling strawberry patch, very soon. I promise!

But for now, I'm dipping my toe back into the world of book promotion by participating in The Romance Reviews' Year End Splash Party. For details please click on the link at the top of the sidebar. Lots of fun to be had, and prizes to be won!

Happy Fall!

My Summer of Music

Trying to get back on track with my blogging, both here and at the PMDD site, where I haven't posted in over two months. As my last post says, I'm taking time out to pursue more research on the subject. And I am. I've enlisted the help of a friend from my Qigong class, and, I hope to have more good information to share over there in the fall.

As for what's going on here, I'm still as busy as ever, now getting ready for out of town family to visit. Until then, I will be cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, and that includes clearing my desk of anything that doesn't need to be there, because when they come, I will take the entire week off from the computer. Tonight another friend and I will be shampooing the carpet, so after I finish this post, it's off to move furniture in preparation for that.

Earlier this week, I attended the U2 concert in Pittsburgh with my son and friends. The U2 360 tour was the largest, and largest grossing rock concert tour ever, with a road crew of around 400 and a stage that takes 120 eighteen wheeler trucks to transport. (From a lookout point on one of the stadium ramps, I counted 30 of them lined up in rows of two, big, bright, shiny, new-looking tractor-trailers, just waiting to be loaded up again.)

The stage took four days to set up (in the broiling heat) at Heinz Field, and 60,000 people were expected to attend. The show we went saw was the last American tour date of the tour, which started in 2009. Only one more concert after ours, and the tour is over. I bet that road crew is happy. One of the statistics posted on the jumbotron that blasted images from the center of the stage said that during the tour 17 children had been born to crew members.

In all, the trip took 13 1/2 hours, 7 of them spent at the stadium. And only 20 minutes spent in traffic, Thank you God. We stopped and had a nice dinner (grilled trout and veggies for me) on the way, and arrived at the stadium around 5:00 p.m. The show began at 7:00 and U2 came on at 9:00. They played for nearly three hours to a crowd that was standing and swaying and singing for almost every song. (including me, of course....how I wished I'd had a tambourine along...I had to settle for clapping my hands or banging on my binoculars :)).

The weather was perfect, with a cool breeze wafting in after dark. The open air format made the sound level more than bearable. Of course it was loud. At least I didn't have any hearing problems afterward :). At times the concert felt like a spiritual experience, which I am sure is what the band intended. The positive energy in the stadium had my hands practically vibrating. (We've been learning all about energy fields in Qigong.) The band came back for three or four encores, the last of which was the best of all, an impromptu song (and one of my favorites) inspired by a friend who lives in Pittsburgh and was at the concert--see the video below.

What can I say, other than it was one of the many highlights of a stellar summer so far. Well worth the time and effort and wait and expense. Of the tickets. Not all the add on "convenience" fees, and the extravagant mark ups for food and drink and souvenirs at the stadium. Can't say I was shocked, because I do get out enough that I've seen prices rise steadily, but this was an orgy of greed going on. They even had announcements that you were not to bring in things like Tylenol, chap stick, and sun screen, because they had them available there for your "convenience."

Yes, and if the food and drink prices were anything to go by, that "convenience" would have cost me dearly.

But the concert itself was awesome, and I'm already scouting around for my next one. This, for me, has turned into the Summer of Music, between the Fourth of July party jam sessions, and the CDs my son has been bringing me for my car. (Taking a break from listening to all those motivational CDs :)) The Rolling Stones, Neil Young, Adele...

Yes, Adele. For once I am actually current with something that's going on in the world of pop culture, and it feels good :)

Update, Revisited

Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together. Every story has an end, but in life every end is just a new beginning. Sometimes the dreams that come true are dreams you never knew you had. ~ Anonymous

Let's try this again. It's Friday, and I haven't done a Fridays With Louis in a while. Louis remains in administrative custody and housed on Death Row for over 75 days now, but has been granted the use of his television and radio, which to me indicates he's settling in for long-term confinement. The mail comes more regularly now (as in more than once a week), and is no longer slit open and taped shut (although one week they didn't even bother to tape it shut and it arrived slit open). The petty games continue on his end, and he spends his days writing appeals and grievances. He no longer sends me any paperwork to copy for fear of it "going missing." My mail now gets there in 4 - 6 days (he's only three hours away) as opposed to 8 - 12 days.

So...life is improving on his end. He still has not been told why he is being held, and his appeals have all been denied. He did get word that he's been put in for a transfer, but has no idea when or where. In all, he says, "They'll get my summer."

And what a summer it has been. For me, that is. The heat aside, this summer has completely taken over my life. Classes, parties, road trips, dinners, festivals...for some reason it's all coming together for me this year. Must have been all that mental, emotional, and spiritual housecleaning I did in March and April. Will definately continue to keep March as "Me" month, and take annual stock of how things are going.

The days just keep rolling, one into another, each of them over before I am anywhere close to being done with whatever I intended to do that day. No matter. It's still there the next day. I never lack for things to do, places to go, or people to see. Finding time to write has been almost impossible, with so many things going on, but winter will come, and with it my usual hibernation, so that, too, will resolve itself.

For now I am just enjoying each day as it comes, and am grateful for the freedom to do so.