Caleigh O'Shea's Blog, page 34

Wordless Wednesday

Curiosity will conquer fear even more than bravery will. ~Irish author James Stephens, The Crock of Gold

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When “looking out” meets “looking in”

Well Done, Grasshopper

Get over the idea that only children should spend their time in study. Be a student so long as you still have something to learn, and this will mean all your life. ~Henry L. Doherty, Irish-American financier and oilman (whose company became CITGO)

Can you believe it’s been a month since my last post (sounds like the Confessional!)

That’s a long time away from my blog — the longest I’ve ever been absent — but it’s thirty days well-spent.

Here’s a summary of the things I’ve learned:

November isn’t the best month for book-writing. There, I said it. Na-No-Wri-Mo to the contrary, the second-to-last month in our calendar year is chock-full of Things To Do: family gatherings, shopping, cooking and eating, decking the halls, church services, catching up with friends, and so on. My hat’s off to those even trying to write the 1,666 words per day needed to finish a 50,000 word novel in November (I admit I didn’t do it!)
Writers in particular (and others in general) need to determine when they’re most productive. I used to be a night owl, but the World of Work turned me into a morning person. Focusing on social media first leaves me too drained to give my novel the attention it needs. Therefore, as my friend John suggested, I’ll be writing first thing in the day from now on and, when I reach my word count, then I’ll do web design work and the social thing.
My third novel won’t even get started unless and until I have an outline. I know, I know — I’m a pantser at heart, preferring to let my characters direct their story. No more! I’ve followed these (ahem) idiots down more rabbit holes than I care to admit; I’ve run into brick walls and trashed thousands of words. Now, I’ll be the puppet-master, and they can go where I lead.
Life is more than an arbitrary word count. As my friend Linda reminded me, all work and no play…. well, you know. Voluntarily chaining myself to a desk and chair and having a daily goal isn’t a bad idea; it’s just that such an austere environment has a way of sending the Muse on a cruise. For me, a day off now and then does wonders for my outlook (and productivity).
There’s no one “right” way to write a novel. I’ve always edited as I write. For the past thirty days, I’ve tried to write fast, to get the words down without my inner editor’s input. The jury’s still out on which style works better. For me, the important thing is that I’m writing … period.

Halloween 2018

My friend Katybeth nudged me some time ago that Halloween was on its way and I should get Dallas all gussied up and ready to join in the spirit of the occasion.

So here is our semblance of a Halloween card:

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Go ahead and laugh (Domer did, when he saw it).

‘It looks like you’ve Photoshopped my dog onto a beach.’

Well, yes. Yes, it does.

Worse, it looks like poor Dallas has no backside!

(Probably sank in all that sand.)

Once you’ve had your laugh, hop on over to Katybeth’s blog and see how the pros do it. I can’t figure it out and spent way more time than is seemly just trying!

Maybe if we leave you with some surfing music you won’t hate us too much — Happy Halloween, everyone!

P.S. I’m not doing NaNoWriMo (the write-your-novel-in-a-month challenge), but I *do* have to crank it up a notch on book two of my series, and this is as good a time as any. Before the holiday festivities, you know. So I won’t be around much for the next couple of weeks. Enjoy your Fall, and we’ll chat soon!

(Nearly) Silent Sunday

Keep shining, beautiful one. The world needs your light. ~Author Unknown

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Arthur, Illinois, the heart of Amish Country, boasts this spectacular Pumpkin House. With more than 300 pumpkins decorated by school kids, business folks, volunteers, and others, this display at the Association of Commerce building is lit nightly for a week from Oct. 31 to Nov. 1.

Walktober 2018

Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake. ~Wallace Stevens, American poet

It’s time once again for Walktober, the group walk organized by Robin of Breezes at Dawn. It’s not too late to get in on the fun (Oct. 28 is the cutoff date), so step into your sneakers and join us!

For this year’s trek, I traveled to Lake Shelbyville, a reservoir located in Central Illinois formed by damming the Kaskaskia River. Some $57 million was set aside (a hefty chunk of change back in 1963!) for the project, which was dedicated in 1970.

Managed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, the Lake offers 11,000 acres of surface waters, 172 miles of shoreline, and 23,000 acres of surrounding public lands dedicated as state parks. More than 4 million visitors a year come here to swim, fish, boat, hike, camp, picnic, or sight-see.

What are we waiting for? Let’s start walking!

Obviously, we’re not going to walk all 172 miles. Let’s compromise by strolling along the 7-mile General Dacey Trail (named for the project’s former resident engineer). We’ll begin at the visitor’s center to secure maps and pamphlets:

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Let’s go outside and see if we can find something interesting. I saw an indoor butterfly house, but sadly, no butterflies (probably the wrong time of year); some dying sedum and black-eyed susan; and some still-pretty purple flowers. Oh, and look at these colorful painted rocks:

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Wait, there’s something cheery and yellow — a gourd, I believe:

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Okay, no more dawdling. The temperature is in the low 50s, and there’s a stiffer wind than I like, so we’ll pick up the pace. Here’s a shot of the lake itself; notice our nicely-chipped walkway on the left:

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Trees here are behind schedule in donning their red, yellow, and orange dresses. As you can see from those in the cemetery across the road, they’re mostly still green:

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Now let’s cross over to the dam. We haven’t had too much water here, so only one spout is open. We’re 110 feet above the stream bed, if you’re curious. Oh, and use the stairs — don’t even try going down that slick concrete:

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The spillway is popular with folks who fish. One fella I talked to said he hoped to catch catfish, bluegill, or mullet; two more men were floating along in a boat with their lines extended:

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Here’s one of several sandy beaches. A host of birds flies up to greet us, yelling over the distance:

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Lake Shelbyville provides flood control for the Kaskaskia and Mississippi rivers, fish and wildlife conservation, and water supply and water quality control:

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We could walk for days and not see everything! Why not plan a trip for yourself:

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Giving and Receiving

It is more blessed to give than to receive ~ The Bible

Most of us, I imagine, are more comfortable being on the giving end of things than on the receiving.

We donate to our churches, political parties, schools, charitable causes. We give freely of our time and talents to our families and communities.

But what happens when we’re thrust into the role of receiving help?

A few days ago, I went to a local restaurant to pick up dinner for my mom and me.

‘Here, take all these coins,’ she said. ‘They’re making my purse too heavy to carry.’

Well, okay.

So I counted out a slew of nickels, dimes, and quarters with an eye toward exchanging them for two meals.

Nobody was behind me in line when I started to pay. Four quarters = one dollar; ten dimes, ditto.

When I got about halfway done counting, I looked up and noticed three men standing behind me.

Probably wondering if I’d had to raid my kid’s piggy bank to buy food!

I apologized, but they assured me they weren’t in a hurry.

Good thing, for it was about to get worse.

I asked the cashier how much I still owed and saw to my dismay that I was one penny short.

For a second, I stood there, wondering how I could have miscalculated.

Why I hadn’t brought my purse inside with me.

And if I dared disrupt these patrons further by saying I had to return to my car for a cent.

The man immediately behind me reached into his pants pocket and pulled out some change. He fished around and found a penny.

‘There you go,’ he announced.

From my reaction, you’d have thought he’d bought me another Sheltie!

As I waited for my order to-go, I again debated racing to the car so I could pay this kind stranger back.

Then I decided not to.

Let him have the satisfaction of knowing he helped me out.

Let him be blessed as I was.

Sunday’s Gem — Opal

Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. ~Albert Einstein

You’d be hard pressed to find a gemstone more clothed in mystery and superstition than the fiery Opal, birthstone for those born during October.

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Australian Opals in rainbow colors, thanks to http://www.jewellermagazine.com

Said to be bad luck to wear one, especially if it’s not your birthstone, Opals have been associated with the Black Plague, pestilence, and death. A novel by Sir Walter Scott in which the heroine’s Opal is touched by holy water and she dies is credited with crashing the Opal market! Adding to the poor Opal’s woes were rumors started by jealous diamond merchants that the stone was unlucky.

Of course, not everyone thinks of the Opal as evil. Early Romans considered it a token of hope, purity, and good luck. Queen Victoria loved Opals and gifted both her daughters with Opals on their wedding days. And how many Opal miners made their fortunes from this stunning stone?

Composed of hydrated silicon dioxide and containing no crystalline structure, Opal is more aptly termed a “mineraloid” rather than a mineral. Opal has a water content of between 3 and 21 percent by weight.

There are several different kinds of Opal, but for our purposes here, we’ll be talking about “Precious Opal,” or “Rainbow Opal,” the one that produces brilliant flashes of color when turned in the light. This phenomenom, called “play-of-color,” yields brilliant rainbow hues and contributes to the stone’s popularity.

The word Opal is believed to come from the Sanskrit upala, or “precious stone.” About 90 percent of the world’s precious Opals are mined in Australia.

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Thanks to http://www.johnwallickjewelers.com for the photo of this stunning 8 carat Australian crystal Opal surrounded by diamonds. Price is only $4,880, too!

Metaphysical healers say Opal enhances creativity, imagination, and memory. Opal eases stress and depression, centering the mind and aiding in soothing dreams. Opal shields you from others’ negativity and strengthens your will to live.

Opal is believed to be beneficial for the eyes, skin, and hair, as well as regulating insulin production.

Softer than most gemstones (5.5 to 6 on the 1-10 Mohs scale), Opal is best used in jewelry that’s protected from impact, like earrings or pendants. Opals in rings should not be placed in a prong setting. Clean your Opal jewelry with a soft cloth and warm, soapy water. If not wearing it for awhile, store it in a sealed plastic bag with a damp piece of cotton so it won’t dry out and crack.

Note: The claims here aren’t meant to take the place of medical advice. They’re based on folklore and other sources, and likely “work” best if one’s belief is strong enough!

Banish Ignorance

Everybody is ignorant, only on different subjects.  ~Will Rogers, American actor and humorist

Can anybody help me identify this plant:

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One of my friends has a dozen or so growing in various parts of her yard.

She got cuttings from a friend of hers after she noticed the plant was a magnet for butterflies.

And tiny, fuzzy bees.

The bees I can do without, but I rather like butterflies, and if I can plant something that helps them (and hummingbirds) to live longer, I’m in.

So my friend recently snipped off two of her plants and told me to stick them in the ground in a sunny spot.

That sounds simple enough, right?

She said I might need to water them now and again. And I might want to feed them once in awhile, too.

They won’t look pretty over the winter, she told me, but they’ll perk back up next spring.

In case you can’t tell from the photo, each plant has smooth, almost waxy, leaves and stands 8-12 inches tall. My friend said they produce masses of tiny pinkish, purple flowers during spring and summer. They don’t have much of a fragrance, and Dallas doesn’t give two hoots for them.

I’ve Googled until the Internet Watchdogs likely have me pegged as the Crazy Writer-Lady looking for “novel” ways to do somebody in via a flowering plant!

Anyway, my friend called this a Butterfly Plant, but my searches led me to see it as a Kalanchoe (kal-un-KOH-ee). Maybe it’s actually something else.

I’m certainly open to suggestions.

When I was in Texas, I had a friend who grew the reddish variety of what she called Kalanchoe, and they were lovely most of the year. Another friend here grew them, too, until they became so prolific that she had to thin them out.

I’m tired of being ignorant. Help me, please?

One More Down

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Throwback Thursday to a different bat; same creepiness factor, though

Tiny rustling sound

Why does this keep happening?

Bats belong outdoors!

Dallas here.

I promised you I’d update Mama’s efforts to rid the house of bats, right?

Hmph, she hasn’t been very successful.

The other night (actually early morning) I was deep into my snoozle when I noticed Mama wasn’t in her bed. The door was closed, and I assumed (wrongly) that she’d sneaked downstairs for an early doughnut.

Suddenly, the door flew open and there stood my mama, butterfly net in hand and a murderous glint in her eye.

She made a few swipes through the air and practically did her Happy Dance.

Then she raced downstairs with net in hand, calling me to Come.

Of course I did. What doggo is dumb enough to miss out on the fun when there’s something to be chased?

Or a treat to be received?

Mama went outside, with me close on her heels. I used the time to do my early morning business, but she was whacking that net on the grass.

Something inside the net was clicking. I thought it might be a bomb, but no. It was just another bat!

When we got back in, Mama asked me how come I hadn’t seen the thing swooping around and set off my alarm bark.

Gosh, Mama, do I have to do everything??

There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them.  ~Andre Gide, French author, Nobel Prize winner in Literature

Sneaky Bandit

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Tomato hornworm, AKA five-spotted hawkmoth (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manduca_quinquemaculata)

I found you, you thief!

Stealing my green tomatoes

And creeping me out.

 

Yummy tomatoes.

I’m having a real feast here.

Thank you, gardener!