Favorite Things

I'm wondering what are your favorite things? That would of course be you, JP, since we have decided that we are likely writng this blog for our own pure entertainment. But if anyone out there would like to chime in with your list, please do so. This isn't in any particular order.

So here are a few of my favorite things, places, people, etc:
1. Coming up with new story ideas.
2. Finishing a book.
3. Red wine, smoked gouda cheese, and crusty sourdough bagette
4. My horses, husband, and kids and dogs and I suppose the cat. (Not necessarily in that order)
5. My big fluffy duvet cover
6. A mountain view
7. An ocean view
8. New York City (everything from the food to the shopping, the shows, the museums--LOVE it all!)
9. The coral color, super soft, fuzzy blanket, my mother-in-law Sue made for me
10. Puerto Vallarta (in specific Yelapa)
11. Jumping my horse
12. Teaching writing to kids
13. My friends
14. Cooking a good meal for my family
15. The way the air smells after it rains rain
16. Watching my dogs play. Watching my horses play. Watching my youngest play with her friends.
17. My Converse slip on tennis shoes
18. My Lucky Brand jeans with the hole above the knee
19. A good strong cup of coffee
20.A good book (particuarly ones by my friends)
21. Avon lipstick
22. Having lunch with my dad
23. Having coffee with my mom
24. My Gwen Stefani Barbie Doll (read old post in archive about my idol worship toward Gwen)
25. Tuberose, Plumeria, Evening Jasmine and Gardenia

Okay, so anyone (ANYONE) out there want to give us your favorites list??? Please do!!!

Cheers,
Michele

Brad and Angie Split?

Say it isn't so. All of these rumors about Brad and Angie are depressing me. Okay, so yes--I am on team Brangelina. I have nothing against Jennifer Aniston. I think she is a lovely, funny, intelligent woman. And I do think she got the shaft. First off, who knows what goes on behind closed doors. Nobody but the people involved. People fall out of love and that sucks but it's reality. So, Brad and Angelina obviously fell in love and now there's a bazillion kids involved. That is why I want to see Brad and Angie together. They have a family. I wish they were married because they do have all those kids and because I believe that when you're married it might make it more difficult to split up. I don't know--just my take. But parents should try and work things out for their kids. Call me old fashion, call me a moron. Whatever...it's what I believe. Now there are circumstances where I think it merits a split--abuse (physical and/or emotional) toward a significant other or their children most definitely in my mind constitutes a split. I also am one of those people who say cheating would not work too well for me.

I'm not trying to be holy and judgmental here. I speak from experience. I am divorced and remarried. I have two sons from my first marriage and there were some ugly things that occurred in that marriage. However, the fallout of divorce can be devestating for children. I see some of the affects still today in my teenage/adult sons. I also believe though that my sons wound up better off and happier from the choices I had to make. Some not so good. Oh crap--how did I get off on my stuff?

Anyway, back to Brad and Angie. Yes--I want to see them stay together. I think they're good people who are human, which means, they have made their own mistakes. But the past is the past. And no one should judge. Instead, people should want to see others get their happy endings. I honestly don't think Jennifer Aniston is at home pining away for Brad Pitt. I just don't buy that. The chick is hot. She's having a good time. She's fine. But how are the Brangelina children if Mom and Dad go separate ways? Plus, let's face it--they are both so beautiful that I want that fairytale ending (except I wish Brad would shave that awful beard).

What say you? As if this is the stuff of the world that really matters. Well, it does matter if two humans who loved each other once go their separate ways. I think that matters a lot. It certainly doesn't matter like so many atrocities we see facing the world today. But in some little way it matters because it reminds us that we are all human.

Lucky # 7

It's been awhile since I've been on Adventuresnwriting. Lots of stuff has happened since I've last been here to say, "hi," and give a little tidbit into the life of a writer, mother, friend, et al. Life has been busy and full of all sorts of distractions. But who needs distractions and busy?  Instead, I want to talk about "Who is on my Island." You know what I mean. It's that handful of  people you would want on your deserted island. The ones you won't get tired of gawking at. It's like watching "The Bachelor" without any guilt.  Here is my list.

1. Sting--Um..."Sacred Love" should say it all, or how about "Every Little Thing She Does." Oh, and I know it kind of shows my age because I am not choosing Zac Efron (who's name I am probably not spelling right, but I do find adorable, however, having sons way closer to young, hot Zac's age, just well,...NO) but back to STING. I just think he's hot. No argument. He is.

2. Bono--So way cool and sexy, and what a lyricist and he's Catholic and Irish--so the lilt alone is worth lying on my deserted island and listening to him read prose to me. I am licking my lips. And we can confess together to whatever...

3. Eddie Vedder (yes, I am seeing a pattern here--I was a big time groupie in my past life). Eddie's voice alone makes me swoon. Plus, he loves the Earth and people and he's just so sexy and mhhmh.... So I like rock stars.

4. Kelly Slater--I could watch this guy surf waves all day from my perch on the island. Have you seen that bod? Yeah well, if you haven't, you really should.

5. Hugh Jackman--:"Australia." "Deception." Watch the movies, you will get it if you can't already see that Hugh is HOT and smart and sexy and HOT!!!!

6. Enrique Iglesias. See photo. Need I say more?

7. So I am pretty happy with my little island. But I have to add my lucky # 7. My husband John. He knows exactly how to start off my Sunday morning just right. I get a breakfast burrito from Nico's Taco Shop and coffee in bed--and that's all I'm saying, but yep--he'd be on my island  for sure.

Now, I want to know who you're top seven is? Who is on your island? Guys or girls (as if any guys read our blog--or as if anyone reads our blog)--who could you gawk at all day and likely never bore of them?

Cheers!

Michele

Superpowers

I love talking to my son. He's so... so.... interesting. And opinionated.

Kid: Mommy, if you could have any superpower at all, what would it be?

Me (without missing a beat): My power would be to magically clean the house. Particularly the dishes.

The kid shoots me death ray looks. 


Me (scurrying to make up for this hideously stupid remark): I wish I could fly.

Kid (looking pointedly at me and speaking rather snidely): I would have the power to teleport to another dimension.

Shit. The kid totally out-cooled me and he knows it.

Next time I'll do better. I promise.

Childproofed

We would like to welcome Reese Reed today on the blog. Reese has written a poignant story for anyone who has ever been a mother. Filled with humor, love, and serious growth, we are pleased to turn you onto Reese's debut novel, "Childproofed."

When people ask me what "Childproofed" is about, I'll admit that I stumble. It's not that it's a difficult question to answer, it's just that most of the time the people who ask me are the ones I realize probably
won't "get it." For example, just this weekend I was visiting with family when my younger cousin turned to me and said, "So tell me about your book. What's it about?"

"Uhh. Umm. Well."

See what I mean?

It's not that I don't think him capable of understanding. It's just that most people who truly understand motherhood and its joys and sorrows already know what the book is about by simply reading the title: Childproofed.

To a mother, that word says it all.

I had the idea for writing a novel about motherhood after an unfortunate incident involving myself and a doorjamb. While rushing to attend to my screaming infant in the middle of the night I bashed my head against the door, giving myself one heck of a shiner. Adding to my embarrassment was the fact that I had just a few months prior started a new job, so I was still "the new girl" around the workplace. In an effort to keep the rumors from flying, I penned an email explaining my shiner and sent it to everyone on the faculty. The response was overwhelming. People began stopping me in the halls, coming by my classroom, and emailing me back saying my email was hilarious and that I should consider writing. Writing had always been a hobby of mine, but had been forgotten since I'd had children. I took their advice and started a blog where I recorded the daily activities of my three young boys; however, I quickly found that I lacked the time necessary to keep it up. Still, I was full of stories, funny little quips and snatches of life that all mothers have experienced. I kept them stored away in my head until one day I looked at my husband and said "I'm going to write a book about being a mom."

There was one thing I knew before I ever started my book - that it wasn't going to be one of those happy, glowing books. I wanted it gritty, exhausting - in other words, real. If there was one thing I was bitter about concerning motherhood it was that no one ever warned me about its ugly side. I wanted other mothers to have something to read and identify with that showed the truth about parenting multiple children. Things like sometimes you don't like your children, and that's okay.

Sometimes your kids interrupt you during sex, and that's okay too. Sometimes you resent your children for what they did to your body, and guess what, that's okay too. Because at the end of the day, they are your children, and when it's all said and done the good outweighs the bad by an overwhelming margin.

So, what did I tell my cousin? I'm sure you're wondering. After hemming and hawing for a moment I said, "Well, it's really a kind of coming of age story. Only instead of coming of age, the main character is kind of coming into her own. She's rediscovering who she is now that she's a mother of two kids, and the book is about her journey in finding herself again."

He just looked at me.

He didn't get it.

That's okay. I bet you will.

Talk to the Animals

I received some really great comments/stories from other horse owners when I posted this blog last week on the other blog I write for equestrianink.blogspot.com and so I thought I'd post it here.

Obviously the question that I posed to horse owners crosses into all animal owners. But it was such a great experience and it has further opened my eyes to the power of emotion, and how strongly our animals feel them and express them. If you've had a similiar experience with any of your animals, please share.

Cheers,
Michele

I have a question for you...Has anyone ever used an equine communicator? I have actually had a gal "talk," with our pony Monty, and it was a pretty amazing "discussion."


Monty came into our family about a year and a half ago. He was fabulous. For seven months Monty was fabulous. My daughter took lessons from a wonderful teacher who is a dear friend, but who is also a school teacher, so when she had to go back to her day job, she let us know that she had to back off of lessons and working with Monty. She was still able to do a couple of days a week, but I knew that with Monty being a new guy with us and with my daughter being small (although she'd been riding for a few years) she would need that extra attention. There was another trainer where we were at and I had watched him with some of the kids and thought he was pretty good with them, so I approached him.

Long story short, the pony didn't like this guy. It wasn't long after they started working together that Monty had his first bout of colic, then Monty began to colic about every 3 weeks. Then he started doing things like bolting with his kid, and acting like a nervous wreck inside his stall. I started scratching my head wondering what the hell had happened to our fabulous pony?!?

My gut began talking to me, and my gut was saying that there's something really wrong here. Monty colicked again, and at that point my vet looked at me and said, "Get him out of here. Change everything about his program, or you might lose him."

There is so much more to the story, but it would be about ten pages long, so this is the short version:
I called up Terri who we'd gotten Monty from (she'd told me that if there was ever any issue to bring him back and we'd figure it out.) I told her the problem and within twenty-four hours we had Monty and my other horse, Krissy, at her place.

Monty and Krissy have now been at Terri's for 9 months and guess what? Not one colic, no silly pony shenanigans to really pique the fear factor for the kid or me.

So back to the equine communicator. This gal came to "talk" to the horses not long after we got up to Terri's. She had no prior knowledge of Monty and the issues. We told her we were concerned that Monty had had a tendency to get fast with his kid.

She wrapped her arms around the pony and after a few minutes looked at us and asked, "Who else rides him besides the little girl and Terri?" We said that I did and occasionally another working student (a young woman.) The communicator said, "No. The man, who is the man?" She looked right at me and a shiver went down my spine. "You know who I'm talking about," she said. I nodded. "Yeah well, the pony doesn't like him and is afraid of him, and he has reasons to be." Then she wrapped her arms back around Monty and asked all of us (my vet included) to send him light and love, and let him know how much he's loved. All of a sudden this lady begins sobbing. I mean, totally sobbing. We were all looking at each other... She apologized and explained that this happens about once a month with a horse. She told us that he had just let go of a ton of grief. That Monty never understood that he was anything more than a commodity. He never understood that he could be or was loved.

Now maybe this sounds crazy to you, but this is what I can tell you happened afterward:

Up to this point Monty was never affectionate. He did his job, but he never seemed happy. He didn't seem to care if his kid was there or not. He just did what he was supposed to do and that was that. The communicator told us to talk to him as much as we could, and tell him how much he is loved and that he is now a part of a family and will always be a part of our family, because he had a fear that we weren't going to keep him. I did this with him for a week straight, and the most amazing thing happened after about a week. I was in the barn with him by myself and I took him off the cross-ties and removed his halter to put the bridle on. All of a sudden, Monty just placed his head right in my chest and stomach. He just stayed like this with me for at least a minute or longer. Then he very gently (not pushy at all) rubbed his face on me... It was like when a cat rubs on you, not when my silly mare pushes me all over the place. I scratched him between his ears and told him how special he is. And I swear he sighed. It was like this moment of true understanding for him. As if he was telling me, "I get it. I'm part of the family." Since that day, as soon as he sees his kid or me, he jogs on over, lets out a little nicker, paws on the ground until we make it over to him, and it's obvious he feels like he is loved.

Both Monty and his kid are thriving together. He has been off his ulcer meds for two months now. He's fat and happy (maybe a little too fat), and he's settled.

Now I don't know your feelings on people who communicate with animals but I have to say that I am a total believer. I really believe that the lady who came and talked to Monty helped him and us a great deal, and I am really grateful for that.

Call me crazy or tell me if you've ever had anyone "talk" to or with your horses/animals.

Michele

Tacky Lights

The darling JB Stanley and I are fascinated by displays of gaudy Christmas lights, so we agreed to venture out and capture our findings on film. So here are my alarming results. (Pardon the awful camera work...I was drunk off egg nog.)

My son calls all this stuff, "Christmas puke." Smartie!

-Jessica