On this fine, snowy Monday I need to confess something to you.
I'm a failure.
Some of you may not be surprised. A few of you may be slapping your foreheads and screaming, “She finally got it!” But for those of you who may be shaken by this news let me continue in the vein which I just opened.
I am far too rich in humanity and far too anemic in the divine. As a teacher, as a mother and as a wife I feel like I should be a shiny, undented vessel for the Holy Spirit.
Alas, I am not.
Last week I hit a little emotional wall. Not that I've never done that before -- and I have the bruises and scars to prove it. But this one was a little harder than the rest. I had to face the fact that what a very good friend said to me was true and that I needed to climb out of the tide-pool of self-pity and anger.
Our family has changed. A situation has reared it's ugly head and we are in all-out spiritual and emotional upheaval. And I don't have the luxury of soaking in my feelings and letting them become rooted in the hard-packed ground of bitterness.
I've taken this to God and I feel like I need to say it out loud. Or at least with the click-clack of the keyboard.
I've failed someone I love. A someone that I love with all my heart. As much as I wanted to be the woman she needed me to be I was unable to fill the voids, smooth the wrinkles, ease the hurts and shelter her from life's painful blows. Looking back on my decisions and my choices, I don't feel like I would've have been able to do things much differently, really. The decisions I made in our relationship were ones that were needed. But in knowing this, admitting this, I've still struggled with playing “what if” and “if only” and I had begun to replay the drama over and over again. Like the aching tooth that only stopped throbbing when a tongue was pushed up against it causing a white-hot flash of pain followed by a split-second reprieve before the next throb, I was reliving pages and pages of emotion and hours and hours of time.
Peace was withering and grace along with it. Finally, resentment had taken hold and I was left with little good to offer anyone who crossed my path.
I had to give my mess back to God where it belongs and allow Him to take over again. He is the only one who can bring healing to my relationship. He is the only one who had any business being the void filler, the wrinkle smoother, the hurt easer and the life shelter. I took my eyes off of Jesus, the author and perfecter of my faith (and yours) and put them on circumstances and feelings which are as shaky and changing as pounding waves.
So, I'm a dented, unkempt failure in the hands of the Almighty God. I can live with that.
If you have plans to go out on the town this weekend and you either want to avoid the "I can't believe I ate the whole thing." guilt or want to make the healthiest choice possible, click here.
However, if you are prone to cheesy, greasy or breaded and don't want to know how bad it is...then avoid clicking at all costs.
The worst of the worst is listed in black and white and living color. Fortunately, there is a healthier alternative provided, too. Nearly every type of restaurants' worst and best.
I encountered 3-Dimensional glimpses of me today.
While heading around a corner in a creepy hospital stairway I stumbled upon another skittering woman. We both startled, squealed and jumped back. The hallway isn't that creepy. But it always reminds me of every movie or novel wherein something goes wrong in a stairwell or in the morgue. There is a reason I don't know where the hospital morgue is. I don't want to, I will not ask. I know where the psych ward is or was and you have to take three elevators and walk down seven abandoned halls to get to it. I couldn't find it if I needed to.
But, as usual, I digress. So after this poor frightened lady and I nervously twittered we headed our separate ways until she rammed into the wall. Bam. After making sure she was okay, I continued on. That is such a me thing to do. Wonder if I'm contagious?
Later on, one of our 90-year-old patients came in for a routine check-up. It was her annual visit so she got to see me today. If I live to be 90, I want to be like her. She laughed the whole time. She laughed at everything I said. I was apparently "on" today. She laughed as she mentioned a bad shoulder and a bum foot. She laughed because she couldn't quite get herself out of the chair the first time or up on the table without assistance. She may have had trouble on both counts because she was laughing.
As a little girl, I learned that it's very difficult to pour milk correctly while laughing. As a matter of fact I revisited that little lesson earlier this week. I lifted a gallon of milk to pour and just as when I was a child, I got the giggles and couldn't move forward. Really. Who'd have thought that milk could be funny?
I'm going to remember exactly how funny it is when I'm 90. When I'm an old lady I shant wear purple and red since that has long ago lost it's charm. I shall laugh.
As promised. Kaye's answers to the Dregs.
Scroll down a bit to read my review of Kaye Dacus' Stand-In-Groom and for a look see at the first chapter.
Fiction character you would most like to be or most identify with and why?
If I could be a character in a book, I would want to be Anne Elliot from Jane Austen's Persuasion---because Frederick Wentworth is my favorite of all the Austen heroes, and I fall in love with him a little more each time I read the book or watch the film (the 1995 version, anyway).
Some out there in writing land have strange rituals. Share yours.
This isn't a ritual so much, but an addiction. I'm addicted to Post-it Notes. As I write this, I currently have nine of them stuck around the perimeter of my computer screen, and more than a dozen more stuck to the wall over the desk. I have a dispenser on my nightstand by my bed, on the end-table beside my chair in the living room, a pad of small ones in the top drawer of the entertainment center, and several different sizes of them on the table in my office where I do my editing work. I can't work (write or edit) if I don't have a Post-it pad within easy reaching distance.
If you could change something in any novel, what would you change about it and why?
In Jane Austen's Emma, I would find someone better for Knightley. As Jane herself said, Emma was a heroine only she could like. It's my least favorite of the six major novels, as I've always thought Knightley deserved someone of much better character than Emma.
What crayon in the box describes you on a good day? Bad day? Which one do you aspire to be?
I'll have to admit, I had to get onto Wikipedia and look up the new names of the crayons---it's been a very long time since I've had any! On a good day, I'd have to say I'm "Purple Heart"; on a bad day, it would be "Blue Bell." I would love to be more environmentally friendly, so I'd say I aspire to "Ultra Green."
Pick one…..Pink iguana, purple cow, periwinkle giraffe. Which one and why? Can be negative or positive.
Purple Cow, for a couple of reasons: first, purple is my favorite color; second, I love beef (prime rib especially); third, I love cheese and ice cream. Of course, if we're talking beverages, I think I'd have to go with the Pink Iguana, because I much prefer the sound of cranberry juice and lime to grape juice and milk mixed together!
Favorite turn of phrase or word picture, in literature or movie.
"Good stuff, Maynard." From a Malt-o-Meal commercial from the late 1970s. My sister and I started using this phrase since elementary school, and it's been a regular part of my repertoire ever since.
What period of history intrigues you the most?
As someone who grew up in the "Old" West and who also went on to minor in history in college, I can't narrow it down to just one, so I'll give you three: (1) the late Georgian/Regency era of England (because of my love of Jane Austen), (2) the American Civil War (the era of history I specialized in with my minor), and (3) late 19th Century New Mexico (because of my childhood in N.M.).
What makes you feel alive?
The first rainfall after a long, hot, dry summer. Writing the hook ending of a chapter. Laughter with friends. Singing, especially old, beloved hymns. Watching my favorite teams play football. Learning something new.
Book, music, person, food you would take with you on a very long trip.
Book: The Complete Jane Austen
Music: Dean Martin
Person: My parents, or my friends Lori C. and Ruth
Food: Popcorn, fruit, nuts, dry cereal, and sparkling water
Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deep seas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from your childhood, somewhere else? – and why.
I would love to take at least a fortnight's visit to Britain, especially the southern/Hampshire/Portsmouth region and Scotland---for research purposes as well as family history (I'm a McLellan on my mother's side of the family). I would also love to spend some time in Germany, Switzerland, and Austria (from my years of studying the German language and cultures of those countries).
Favorite season and why?
Fall is my favorite season, and summer is my least favorite. Most people get depressed when the leaves start falling, the days get shorter, and the weather gets colder—but it invigorates me. I’m lethargic and feel house-bound during the summer because I get very easily overheated and dehydrated, which gives me rip-roaring migraines. I’ll take autumn allergies over heat any day! When the weather starts turning cooler, to me it’s the fulfillment of the promise that the nastiness that is summer-weather doesn’t last forever. I just wish fall (and winter—at least, the kind of winters we get here) lasted a little longer around here.
Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?
The comment that gave me the greatest encouragement came in my 12th grade Creative Writing class. On the first piece of fiction I'd ever let anyone read, a short story assignment, my teacher wrote, "I think you've found what you're meant to do." It took almost exactly twenty years between receiving that comment and holding my first published novel in my hands, but I've never forgotten it. (And of course, I sent him a signed copy!)
Favorite chore
Are people supposed to have favorite chores? I don't have a favorite, but the one I don't mind doing as much as anything else is laundry. I love the smell of the fabric softener when it releases in the spin cycle. My house is so small that it freshens every room.
Grammatical pet peeve…sound off.
Let's see . . . would it be people mixing up Me, Myself, and I? saying TRY AND instead of TRY TO? adding TATE to oriented and disoriented? using an apostrophe to make a word plural? using plural pronouns with singular antecedents? (Um, I'm a copy editor by trade, if you can't tell!)
Societal pet peeve…sound off.
Pants hanging off the rear-end! I don't wanna see your underwear! Also, girls wearing shirts that don't reach the waist band of their pants, while wearing pants that are so tight they get a "muffin-top" effect. Facial piercings, belly rings, and tongue-piercings bother me, too. Oh--and the biggest one of them all---PEOPLE USING THEIR CELL-PHONES IN THE MOVIE THEATER. Can't you sit for two hours without texting someone? And, even worse, DON'T ANSWER A CALL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOST DRAMATIC SCENE OF THE FILM!
"I think I inhaled her." Ha. Yeah. And I have issues with NOT throwing beads and tools across the room, or hacking at puzzle pieces to make them fit. This is so amazing. If it wasn't for ol Charlie, I might still not believe it.
Book Synopsis:
When wedding planner Anne Hawthorne meets George Laurence, she thinks she's found the man of her dreams. But when he turns out to be a client, her "dream" quickly turns into a nightmare. Will Anne risk her heart and career on this engaging Englishman?
George came to Louisiana to plan his employer's wedding and pose as the groom. But how can he feign affection for a supposed fiancee when he's so achingly attracted to the wedding planner? And what will happen when Anne discovers his role 
has been Stand-In Groom only? Will she ever trust George again? Can God help these two believers find a happy ending?
If you would like to read the first chapter of Stand-In Groom, go HEREMy Review:
Stand-in Groom is a unique story that is full of humor, angst and Southern flair.
Kaye Dacus has thrown a proper Englishman into the heart of Louisiana with a wedding planner, her large family, and her very bruised heart. Wedding details, delicious scents, and a healthy serving of Dino and Frank fill the book, too.
If you love stories that throw obstacles at the couple you know should be together, and you love the idea of weddings and details involved in weddings, or delight in Southern fiction, romance or Englishmen then check out Stand-In-Groom.
Come back Wednesday. Kaye has sent her answers to the Dregged questions and you won't want to miss them. In the meantime, go check out the first chapter. And, if you are curious, Kaye has an inspiring blog....Fabulous by Forty...pretty cool.
...wished you could change an ending to a book?
Well, now you can. Kind of.
You can help determine a verdict/ending to Randy Singer's upcoming book.
Click on the cover or here.
You can watch a bit of the "trial" and cast your vote.
Needle Sized Art