Debra Jupe's Blog: Author Debra Jupe Happily Ever After Isn't Just for Fairytale Diva's, page 4

I Was Bored

My computer is in the shop. I’m on a borrowed laptop, thinking my work was stored on a dependable cloud, and I could continue my WIP’s without interruption. Unfortunately, Dropbox let me save my stories to my device, but nothing past August shows up on any other PC. I’ve suffered lots of frustration,  especially since I have time off from the day job. I planned on being constructive and getting a lot of writing done.

Didn’t happen.

To satisfy my crave to create, I wrote a poem this morning. This is a first since my school days. It’s somewhat  patterned after Twas the Night Before Christmas, although not as monumental. I did enjoy the process, because the words came easy to me

Because I haven’t blogged in a while, I thought I’d share. Enjoy!

Two days after Christmas

A frosty wind blew cold

Not much to my liking

If my personal truth was told

Rain rattled the windows

Thunder boomed overhead

No creature dare stirred

Nope, we stayed snuggled in our bed

Time ticked by slowly

as I lay listening to the storm

I can’t stay in bed all day, I think

Though beneath the covers I’m toasty warm

Tossing quilts and blankets away

a toe touched the floor

my skin coated with shivers

as I hurried out the door

I gathered up a bundle,

then hastened back within

lobbing timber onto the grate so cozy flames ignited

inside the waiting bin

Warmth scattered everywhere

Yes, I was snug inside and out,

but outdoors the icy bluster’s constant gust

made me want to shout

Go away ugly winter

You’re not a lot of fun

Stay gone forever

So I can enjoy the sun

I looked to the universe,

and then I questioned why

Why must these furious storms

Bring such anger to the sky

I am not sure who answered

Yet, I received one, indeed

The calm voice came from nowhere

Their words did not impede

Yes, tis crazy weather, Deb, tis crazy, I agree

Lovely sunshine day one and bitter cold on day two

Remember, my dear, this is how winter behaves,

but the need to fret is nil, he’s only passing through

It won’t be long till summer returns

With glorious brightness and stifling heat

Heating the sidewalk enough for eggs to fry

And scorch the bottoms of unsuspecting feet

Don’t complain about the climate

Because you’ve been blessed with plenty

Save your prayers for those

Who do not have any

I sat still and quiet

as the stout winds continued to blow

And prayed for those in need,

The many I do not know

I spoke to the One who hears all

Even over raucous storms

That my brothers and sisters in peril

Would somehow be safe and warm

If you’re also unhappy

And complain about the season

Stop a moment and remember

We’re here for a reason

We’re here to lift our hearts

And wish for those cold and blue

To receive an abundance of warmth through us

with hopes they may be blessed, too

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time to curl up with a good book!

Down load my romance/suspense Toxic for 3.89 on Amazon.com

To find the truth, she’ll have to defeat his darkness…Toxic

Landscaper Gracie Desoto is too busy building her business to worry about her love life. Until she receives news her ex-husband is getting remarried, and she meets the enigmatic Ethan McCarthy. Despite the warning bells, Grace can’t deny her attraction to the much younger man.

Ethan McCarthy is a man on the mission. His job keeps him on his toes, plus he’s dealing with personal issues he can’t figure out. He doesn’t have room in his life for a romance, until an encounter with the adorable Gracie changes his mind.

In a whirlwind weekend of missing plants and a murder with Ethan as a possible suspect, Gracie is determined to solve the mystery and clear her man. Together, they head down a darkened path into an unknown where they may not survive.

Is their love toxic, or is it worth the risk?





 

Throw Back Thursday — Amanda Jupe

Today in honor of throwback Thursday, I’d like to pay tribute to my grandmother, Amanda Anna Magdalena Louisa Leunschner.

She was the first of seven children, born to Christian and Kathryn on August 21, 1908. The family spoke in German, although she did learn English at some point. Her parents farmed for a living. She told me she went to school through the seventh grade, then she quit to help take care of her younger siblings and work the land.

She married my grandfather, Fritz Jupe at the age of 20 in 1928 and had her only child, my father, Leonard in 1930. They were farmers also. During those days, my mamma would get up before sunup, cook breakfast, do dishes, and then go out and help my grandfather. She’d repeat the process at lunch and dinner. I don’t remember a lot from those days, but a memory that sticks in my mind was she was an animal lover and gave each cow and bull first names.

They didn’t own a phone or television. For phone calls, they drove to the local grocery and use a community telephone. Entertainment was sitting on the screened porch and watch the sunset. Then early bedtime.

My grandfather was a diabetic. He lost a leg and could no longer farm. My father taught Mamma to drive at the age of fifty-four so she and my grandfather could get around. The car was a stick shift. She never drove over 35 miles per hour, and she didn’t drive at night.

Four years after, my grandpa passed away. She was forced to work outside the home for the first time in her life. She got a job as a cook in a newly opened senior living facility.

My parents insisted she install a phone at home, which she utilized frequently. She retired from her job about ten years later. Sometime within that span, she bought a TV. Dallas became her favorite show. She was also something of a domino shark. Our family get togethers usually included rousing games and more often than not, she emerged as the winner.

I was her only grandchild. I spent a week with her during her vacation when she worked. During our times together, she taught me about Jesus and the Lord’s Prayer, which we’d say every night before we went to sleep. She told me I had a crown waiting for me in  heaven. Whenever I did a good deed, Jesus would put a star in my crown so it would shine bright when it came time for me to wear it.

As I grew into my teens, the stay overs stopped, but I made regular trips to visit. Later, when I married, I moved an hour and a half away. I saw her whenever I came to town, and my parents brought her to see us. Several years later, my husband, children, and I relocated eight hours away. To visit us, she braved her first airplane ride at the age of 82. In between visits and monthly phone calls, we wrote weekly letters to keep in touch.

She adored everyone she met and the feeling was mutual. Of course, I was her favorite. At least, until great-grandchildren came along and I was replaced. Not that I minded.

Years of physical work began to catch up with her, and in her mid-eighties, she fell frequently. It was decided she could no longer stay by herself in the big house in the country. She moved into the senior home where she’d worked years before.

There she thrived. She traded dominoes for bingo and never missed a game. The facility held beauty classes and for the first time, she wore makeup, had her nails done, and a trip to the in-house beauty salon became a weekly thing.

At 93 her memory started to fade and her body withered. In the end, she’d lost interest life, and she struggled to remember things, including the people she loved. The next year, she closed her eyes for the final time.

The priest who presided over her funeral told me not to be sad. My grandmother still lived and she lived through me. A comforting thought as is the idea she’s in heaven—wearing a bright and shiny crown filled with stars. I miss her, but I saved her letters. When I need my grandma, I still have her words.

 

Look to the Sky

Does anyone enjoy sky watching? While I love the ocean because it brings me to such a peaceful place, the sky also has a moving effect on me. I can stare at the changing heavens for hours. Day or night, the sky has a magical way of speaking to me.

A flawless sunrise or sunset can steal a breath and for a brief moment, wipe away problems and fears. Sometimes it gives me answers or sometimes it asked me questions. There have been times it’s taken me back in time and and there are moments it helped me see into the future. Painted visions appear before my eyes and while I try to write those vivid descriptions in my stories, I’ve yet to capture the perfection in words.

  I can’t always get to the beach because I don’t live near the ocean, but day or night, the sky is always available and is a viable substitute when I crave inner peace. Does the sky move you, too? Leave a comment and tell me how you find your calm.

 

The Buzzard Tree

 

I enjoy visits to larger cities. Nothing beats the convenience and selections of shops, restaurants, and the array of entertaining people. Even so, deep down, I’m a small town girl, and I’ve had the pleasure of living in several picturesque places. I love the natural, unmarred scenery. Roads that seemed to go on forever with a mixture of pine trees and live oaks flock the banks. Drives and walks are perfect for touching inner peace, connecting with the universe, or if you’re me, come up with the next chapter of my current WIP.




One of my favorite walks was past this tree. My children dubbed it the buzzard tree because at least five to ten buzzards always occupied the near dead branches. The tree held my fascination. I wondered why the huge birds decided to roost in this particular tree when so many others were available. Whatever the appeal, they liked it. Sadly, a fire claimed much of these beautiful trees a few years ago, and the buzzard tree was destroyed, as well. Even though the buzzard tree no longer exists, I won’t ever forget this odd spectacle. I sometimes ponder where the birds go to rest now their haunt is gone.

Retreat, Retreat, Retreat

Nothing is more inspiring for a writer than to get together with other writers. I’m lucky to be associated with a group of ladies who do that for me. Every year, we gather for our annual retreat at the C-Bar Ranch in Valley Mills, Texas.

Our cabin is primitive, small, no Internet or cable. We sleep in bunk beds, early arrivals get the coveted bottom bunk. Entertainment comes from eating, hiking, and of course, lots of  writing.

To get us in the “mood” for romance writing, we start the weekend by watching a romantic movie (DVD on the largest screen computer). Writing games, brainstorming, and sharing ideas stimulate creativity. Most of the weekend is spent working on our latest story–and eating. We don’t go hungry. There’s also plenty of chocolate to help through writers block.

If we need a break? No chance of getting cabin fever here. The cabin is surrounded by breathtaking beauty just a few steps out the back door or we can venture along the road and enjoy acres of Mother Nature’s perfection.

Other than what we need for writing and eating, we come only with the basics. No makeup and staying in PJ’s all day is acceptable.

My weekend roommates like to keep the room at sub-zero. I always bring a load of quilts and blankets.

An awesome weekend. I can’t wait for next year!

 

Facing Fears

Everybody is scared of something. Some fears may seem silly, because according to experts, our fear source are magnified in our minds. There are lots of reasons for being fearful. Usually they stem from something that may have happened during childhood or a bad experience.

I can’t explain where my personal fears come from. Clowns frighten the begeebees out of me. Okay, this guy is especially scary, and he’ll be deleted on the blog is up and running, but all clowns look like this to me. They give me the creeps.

I am not fond of flying either. I do it if I have to, but I don’t enjoy it. For years, I hid my dread from my kids, because their dad told me if they were aware I was scared, then they’d be frightened too. I revealed my air panic once they were adults. Guess what? Neither of them like to fly.

I’m not a fan of thunderstorms. Although I’ve survived an F-5 hurricane and F-5 tornado, neither was the reason for my anxiety. I didn’t like them as a child, and I don’t care for them now. My dog shakes through them too. Together we hide under the covers until the storm blows over.

Finally, I’m terrified to speak in public. I’m sure I am not alone. Last weekend, I had the privilege to speak at the Moody Community Library’s annual tea. I was nervous the whole week before. I contemplated writing what I would say and reading, but decided to wing it instead so I’d sound more natural. I rehearsed for my dogs many hours before showtime, stumbling the whole time.  This turned out to be an easy fear to face. The crowd was small, but energetic, and they put me at ease right away. I ended up having a wonderful time and met some great people. Maybe some fears aren’t warranted.

Speaking in front of others may be the one fear I defeat.  I hope so.

Okay readers, what about you? What terrifies you the most?

 

The Empty Wall

My daughter moved out last August. I have since been slowly transforming her room into a guestroom. Everyone who knows me well, gets that I’m a beachy kind of girl, so I’ve kind of gone with that on my redo. Except I have a bare wall that I feel needs to have something.

I’ve dabbled in photography and sifted through my pictures, but none really fit the look I was going for.  I prefer taking woodsy pics.

I wanted something more artsy. Like a canvas watercolor of seashells. Painting is not my area of expertise, but I purchased supplies anyway, ready to charge ahead. But I stopped before making any major mistakes.

I contacted my daughter-in-law, Astrid for help. She’s an awesome artist, and I knew she’d give me a heads up. I can paint okay, but I can’t draw.

Below is my Astrid painting.

She graciously offered to do the drawing part, and I get to paint with watercolors once she was done. Expect another blog with the end results.

                                            In the meantime, I’ll stick with what I do best.

 

Self-Discovery

The years 2000 to 2005 has thus far been the most turbulent part in my life. I craved peace and quiet. Calmness was a luxury. I worked at a wholesale nursery, and my favorite moments was when I came in either Saturday or Sunday’s to water. While that may seem like a quick task, there were thirty-two usually filled greenhouses, plus growing areas. This undertaking took several hours, and I will be forever thankful for the solitude.

The place was normally employee-free on weekends. Just me and the plants. The only sound was gravel crunching under my feet, and the occasional plane flying overhead. I could relax. Breathe. The tenseness in my life was briefly liberated, and I was able to just be.

I prayed a lot in those stolen moments. The eventual answers became a turning point. A chance to totally be free of masks and pretense. I allowed myself to finally shine as I made the decision to become a serious writer.

I’m grateful for those spans of silence. The time to clear my mind of personal muddle and think. It gave me the opportunity to grow just like the plants inside those greenhouses. The first book I wrote setting is in a wholesale nursery and based on that very plant farm.

My newest release, Toxic is that book. This story was huge personal step. It will be available on Wednesday, September 23rd.

 

A Creative Hunger

At one time I fancied myself as a photographer in the making. I’ve included some of my “works”, though I’m not great at taking that actual “shot” I like to think I have a good eye. I suppose it takes practice. I never saw myself as a rustic, nature type of girl, but as you see those kind of pictures appealed to me. Anyway, just for fun, here’s a blast from my momentarily shutter bug days.