Emilie Richards's Blog, page 113

See What the Wise Men Started?

Our nation is reeling from the horrifying, senseless killing of children in Connecticut this past week.  Many of us wonder how such a thing could happen, while at the same time we watch the selfless outpouring of love and support from strangers who feel the the tragedy deep inside.  Our sadness is healed in some small measure by the good works we witness.

Giving the right gift at the right time is never as easy as it ought to be.  We wonder what we can do for others that will ease pain and stress.  We wonder what we can do that might make a small change for the better in this world of ours.  The holidays are a time when inevitably these questions surface.  Not only are “Peace and Goodwill to Men” the watchwords of the Christmas holidays, we also know that any charitable donations should be made by December 31st in order to be tax deductible–just a little bonus in living out the best part of our humanity.

There are so many wonderful charities.  Today I’m sharing just a few of my favorites, and I hope you’ll share yours, as well.  Perhaps your own donations go to a university you attended, a church you attend now, a hospital where you received treatment.  We give to a summer camp where our family spent many happy hours, to a charity that educates children in India in honor of our daughter, who was born there.  I give to St. Jude’s hospital because I know how lucky I was to have healthy children.  I support environmental causes because I want to leave my grandchildren a healthy planet.  Charitable giving is personal, and reflects, in many ways, our values and concerns.  Here are just two more of mine that you might not be familiar with.

Tahirih Justice Center:  Tahirih works to protect immigrant women and girls seeking justice in the United States from gender-based violence. Leveraging both in-house and pro bono attorneys, Tahirih empowers clients to achieve justice and equality through holistic direct legal services and national public policy advocacy.  They have a 99% success rate, and now, when the Violence Against Women Act  is under debate in Congress, is a particularly good time to donate.

ChildFund International: One of many international service organizations that match sponsors with children in need around the world, ChildFund (formerly Christian Children’s Fund) and others like it bring giving to your front door step with letters from sponsored children and reports on how your sponsored child is progressing.  ChildFund works directly with the community where your child lives.  We have sponsored a child in India and one in Uganda for many years.  Watching them grow up has been a joy and they are a constant reminder of how similar our hopes and dreams are worldwide.

Do you have others to recommend?  Do you know why they are particularly important to you? Have you found ways other than financial to support the causes you hold most dear?

There’s no amount of money or even good works that can make up for the loss and grief that so many people will experience this year.  But in the words of clergyman Edward Everett Hale: “”I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something I can do.”

I like that.  I hope to live those words this holiday season as so many other people are living them.

Sunday Poetry: I come into the peace of wild things

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

My heart is broken for the twenty-seven children and teachers who were killed on Friday.  Some things in life are so tragic and incomprehensible there aren’t enough words to convey our shock and sadness.  I’m grateful to our poets, who find ways to express, for all of us, the essence of our humanity.

This poem, The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry, is what I wish for those who are in pain from such a terrible loss.

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  The prize is an autographed copy of Billy Collins’s Horoscopes for the Dead. See the details here. I’ve carried this precious autographed book from New York to Virginia, on to North Carolina, and now to Florida. It’s waiting for someone to claim it.

Will it be you?

Christmas Wishes

This year I began a new weekend diversion on my author Facebook page.  Each Friday night or Saturday morning I post a “Fantasy for the Weekend.”  For instance last weekend here’s what I asked:

In honor of holiday eating: A very smart nutritionist has discovered a way to make any food healthy without changing the flavor, texture or appeal. She’s asked you to choose three foods to “fix,” so that now you can eat them any time without worry. What three foods will you choose?

Twenty-six people responded and by the end of those fantasies, my mouth was watering. Don’t YOU wish that vast quantities of chocolate were actually good for you?

There’s value in fantasy. I like to think that if we know what we want, we’ll strive toward it or some attainable version. Knowing what we value is the first step toward resetting goals. And even if that’s impossible–like converting pounds of butter into something healthy–playing “let’s pretend” for a little while is always a welcome diversion.

You are always welcome to join our Fantasy for the Weekend by adding your own comments. “Like” my page while you’re there if you haven’t already and join the fun.

Today I thought I would ask some of the women in One Mountain Away, the first book of my Goddesses Anonymous series, what one gift they would most like to find under their Christmas tree. I”ll let them speak for themselves.

Charlotte Hale, the major character, has made some serious mistakes in the way she’s chosen to live. Here’s what I think she would say:  For Christmas I would like to know that I have, in some small way, made up for the problems I’ve caused others and set their lives on a better path.

I think lots of us wish we could change things we’ve done, and following Charlotte’s example, I’m thinking about mistakes I’ve made and I’m hoping that in 2013 I can find ways to change them into something more positive. I have one idea I hope to pursue, and I’ll tell you more about that when I’ve accomplished it.  How about you? Is there something you wish you hadn’t done that you can change this coming year? Is it a goal?

Taylor Martin, Charlotte’s daughter, wants good health for her daughter Maddie, who has epilepsy, but almost as much as that, she wants to feel confident that she’s on the right path to providing it.

So many people live with pain or chronic disease, and I think unless we’ve been there, we can’t understand the extent that it affects every day of their lives. Taylor’s friends and family may not be able to change Maddie’s prognosis, but they’ve given both Maddie and Taylor the gift of time and understanding so that Taylor has the confidence to pursue treatment for her daughter. Sometimes just being there is the most helpful thing we do, which is something the next character in the book might tell you if you asked her.

Analiese Wagner, Charlotte’s minister, has a difficult job, made more difficult when she has to minister to a woman she’s never really liked. I think under her own Christmas tree Analiese wants to find more patience and forebearance .

We’ve all had difficult people in our lives. Do you need the gift of patience to deal with them? Can you love them anyway? It can be hard. It can be rewarding. Analiese finds both are true with Charlotte.

Harmony Stoddard, who is homeless when Charlotte first meets her, wants the wisdom and time to make the best decision for her unborn child and for herself.  She’s young enough that complicated decisions haven’t yet been a big part of her life. She’s not sure where to turn.

Charlotte realizes that most of her life she’s given advice, not love. With Harmony she experiences just the opposite. She gives Harmony time to come to her own  conclusions about what is best for everyone, while offering friendship and a roof over her head. Under my own Christmas tree I would like the gift of faith. The faith that others will grow and change without my forcing them on my own chosen path. Faith that kindness and support are the best gifts we can give each other.

So what gift will you ask for? Not a Santa gift, but a gift you find within yourself, a gift within reach if you delve deeply enough. Please share your thoughts by commenting if you feel comfortable.

Have I Told You Lately How Much I Love My Crockpot(s)?

I’m embarrassed to say this, but in addition to being a cookbook hoarder I am also a Crockpot addict. That’s right. I can’t imagine a better use for the floor of my new pantry than for my bevy of slow cookers, right below the long, long row of cookbooks.

Have I told you about my frantic eBay shopping to find original Crockpots, not the new-fangled ones that cook at too high a temperature, but the originals, unused wedding gifts stored for years in somebody’s attic and ready now for a good home? I didn’t think so. I don’t often admit it. But I have four.

I’m very good at making excuses for my obsessive Crockpot behavior. When we moved to a two-house lifestyle a few years ago, I decided I must have had a premonition. Without breaking a sweat I had slow cookers for both houses. Big ones, small ones, a little one for heating chocolate, an oval one that overheats for presentation, a slow cooker wannabe with adjustable temperatures, a giant wannabe for cooking turkeys or jambalaya for a party. All I had to do was move some north and some south and I was all set.

Excuses are only helpful for a little while. Unfortunately recently I’ve realized that 90% of all slow cooker recipes require chicken. And while we still eat meat, it’s much less often. Fish has never been a big item for slow cookers, and vegetables? Well. . .  What was I going to do with all these Crockpots?

So now, instead of searching for slow cookers that do what they were meant to do, I’m looking for recipes. Vegetarian main dishes. Vegetarian side dishes. Recipes without meat or canned soups. Recipes with few ingredients and very little preparatory cooking. I haunt Pinterest.   have several cookbooks on my Christmas wish list. I’m the Sherlock of Slow Cookery.

Last week I saw this recipe on Pinterest, and last night my patient husband assembled it in one of my oldies but goodies and let it cook all night. This morning we were thrilled with the results. Not only did this recipe make enough oatmeal for us both to enjoy this morning, it made enough for my favorite Oatmeal bread recipe, which followed quickly on its heels and is now baking in the oven.

Give this a try if you’re enthused about waking up to the smell and taste of delicious hot oatmeal some morning soon. You won’t be sorry.

Overnight Oatmeal in your Slow Cooker

Slice two apples (preferably organic) and place in the bottom of a 3 quart slow cooker
Add 1/4 to 1/3 cup brown sugar, amount depends on your tastes and how sweet your apples are
Add 1 teaspoon cinnamon
Add pinch of salt (optional)
Add two cups of old-fashioned oats
Add four cups of water and DO NOT stir

Turn your slow cooker on low just before you go to bed.  Your oatmeal will be ready in 8-9 hours.

Variations: While we haven’t tried these, I’m looking forward to experimenting with using maple syrup or honey instead of brown sugar, adding raisins or dried cranberries, tossing in a little ground flax meal or any number of other yummy, healthy ingredients.  We just ate ours with milk this morning, but I’m thinking chopped walnuts and fresh fruit would be a great addition once it’s cooked.

As I said, I have OLD slow cookers which actually cook slowly.  If yours does not, use a timer to turn it on or off, or adjust in other ways.  Ours was perfect in this time frame.

Whatever you try, let us know how it turns out.

Sunday Poetry: I Am Thinking of A Fairy Tale

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

Did you know that the average person gains at least 5 pounds over the Christmas holidays?  Scary, right?  That’s not a Christmas present any of us want.  And yet perhaps we need to be more accepting of the “roundness” around us.  Perhaps we need to realize that Fat Is Not a Fairy Tale, as this poem by Jane Yolen reminds us.  Enjoy.

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  The prize is an autographed copy of Billy Collins’s Horoscopes for the Dead. See the details here. I’ve carried this precious autographed book from New York to Virginia, on to North Carolina, and now to Florida. It’s waiting for someone to claim it.

Will it be you?

Hit By the Moving Truck–Metaphorically Speaking

I’m still unpacking, and I also have yet another go round on my edits for Somewhere Between Luck and Trust.  This time I’m reading through the final copy, which is fun but time consuming.  I get to fix what I don’t like about the edits, and these days I can do it right online.  The whole process is like putting a puzzle–a very complex 3-D puzzle with many components–together.

So today I’ll leave you with the photo of yet another resident in our new backyard, or more specifically the waterway just beyond it.  Did you know that according to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, alligators and dinosaurs evolved from a common ancestor, one they share with other reptiles? So, although alligators are classified as reptiles along with lizards, snakes, and turtles, they are actually more closely related to birds, whose direct ancestors were dinosaurs.

See a beak or wings on this guy?  Personally I think he’s pretty cute, but we’re keeping Nemo on a leash, in case you’re worried, and away from the water.

Thanks to Michael McGee for the wildlife photos.  These days he’s never very far from a camera.

The View From My Window on”Happiness Key”

For fun today, and because I’m busily unpacking with little worth saying except “hand me the box cutters,” I thought I’d share a few photos from our new home.

We now live on a SW Florida waterway, not quite a lake, nor exactly a pond, looking over a state park.  The bird life is extraordinary, and every morning since moving here we’ve gotten up before dawn to sit on our lanai and watch our new feathered friends arrive or depart for the day.  The birds change from day to day.  I’m sharing just a few of my husband’s recent photos, plus a video of Whistling Duckling escapades yesterday.

I hope you enjoy.

The female Anihinga on the left has adopted a patch of reeds just across from our house and can usually be found there. Even a curious Wood Stork doesn’t faze her.

 

The Great Blue Heron is a gorgeous bird, and not easy to ignore.  They can be 4 to 5 ft. tall, with a wing span of 5-6 feet. They very definitely catch our attention just by being there.

 

 

Another large bird standing 3 to 4 feet tall, Wood Storks seem to enjoy each other’s company. When we first arrived we saw Wood Stork parades each morning, sometimes as many as 7 lumbering along the waterfront together. But this photo of our neighbor’s roof at twilight is my favorite.

 

And finally a duckling bathing frenzy yesterday which my husband caught on video.  This family is adorable.  But there’s also an alligator who sometimes cruises past our yard.  We’re hoping the ducklings escape his notice.  They’re growing so fast, I’m hopeful.

My study window looks over the waterway.  Will that make me more or less creative?  I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Sunday Poetry: All the Singing

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

Living in Florida now our angels for the holiday season have a different appearance than when we waited anxiously for the snow to fall and ice to cover the trees.  In this poem, White-Eyes, by Mary Oliver, she draws us a picture of a beautiful bird, joining with others to sing angelically in the warm winter night.  Where do you see angels this time of year?  And how do they sing to you?

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  The prize is an autographed copy of Billy Collins’s Horoscopes for the Dead. See the details here. I’ve carried this precious autographed book from New York to Virginia, on to North Carolina, and now to Florida. It’s waiting for someone to claim it.

Will it be you?

What, Me Worry? An Author’s Nightmares.

I have a cushy job, right? I set my own hours, spend a huge percentage of them living in a fantasy world, stare unblinking into space for days without anyone calling the little men with the butterfly nets. I’m a writer.

So with so many pluses, what do writers  worry about?  In the interests of education, I thought today I’d list a few of mine.  Clearly I have forgotten some of them, but I won’t worry about that. Not with so much better material to occupy me.

A quick perusal of Amazon today shows that while Sunset Bridge received 27 reviews, so far One Mountain Away has received only 17. Does this mean fewer people are buying  it? Does it mean they have read it, but they are too kind to review it poorly so they haven’t reviewed it at all? Does it mean they bought it, but it’s still sitting on a shelf because they haven’t yet forced themselves (for a variety of possible reasons) to open and read it?
How can I gently request that my readers review it without sounding like a relentless self-promoter?
While going through the first round of edits on Somewhere Between Luck and Trust I’ve been forced (!) to make some changes. Will the changes somehow contradict something else in the story that I’ve forgotten about? Will my readers toss the book across the room because my character eats pickles in one chapter and renounces them in another. (Full disclosure: There aren’t any real pickles in this story. I don’t think so, anyway. Darn, maybe I’d better check . . .)
My colleagues are busily putting books up on line. I’ve been busy moving. Will the big e-book tidal wave pass right over me as I unpack boxes of sheets and towels? Will my readers forget who I am if I don’t put backlist online by tomorrow?
I haven’t tweeted in days. Furthermore I have nothing relevant to tweet. (Not that I should be stopped by something that minor.)
I would like to send a Christmas email to my readers. Do I have anything worth saying? Can I say anything  in 300 words or less? It’s not likely.
I would like to send my editor and agent citrus fruit for the holiday. How many of their other writers are doing exactly the same thing? Dare I ask and spoil the surprise? Better than boxes of spoiling fruit?
When, exactly, will I have time to tackle the new books I want to put online? Perhaps another Shenandoah Album novel. Perhaps another Ministry is Murder mystery. Can I squeeze more writing time into my schedule when I’m now living in the land of perpetual sunshine and opportunity?

Clearly none of these concerns are earth-shaking. In fact, as I list them, I have to smile. In the long run what really matters? I love what I do, and somehow things always get done in time. I think sometimes I just like to worry. How about you?

Try making a list of your own worries. You might find it helpful. Of course, you might also find it makes things worse.  But don’t worry about that until it happens. You’ll have enough to keep you busy without it.

Color My World, Or At Least My Study

Every ten years or so I’m faced with a big decision. That’s about how often I move and must, out of necessity, fix up a room to work in. Which invariably means a new coat of paint. Which invariably means choosing a color for the walls.

My first study was located in the corner of a bedroom in New Orleans. The room itself was a rental apartment attached to our house, created from a carport by the previous owners. Eventually we took over the apartment and I began my writing career. The walls were dark paneling, but I was so exhilarated, I hardly noticed  After awhile my husband and I traded spaces with our older sons and I moved my study into a small bedroom which had been painted a soft yellow. The room seemed happy and lively when I sat down to work, so, of course, the next time we moved I painted my new study a lavender-gray. The emphasis being on gray. I mean, if yellow inspires creativity and boosts energy, let’s do the exact opposite just for the heck of it.

When I had a chance to move out of that gloomy space, I took it gladly, moving into an upstairs bedroom. By then I’d learned my lesson. After an enormous amount of research into color psychology, I settled on. . . yellow. Again and with great relief.

The next time we moved, I didn’t even give the matter any thought. I painted the walls yellow. Having experimented and lost, I wasn’t willing to take chances.

Then we moved to Florida a few weeks ago, and it was time for the study-color discussion once more.  The room I decided to take as my study was formerly a media room. The walls were dark cocoa brown, which was quite lovely with the built-in cherry cabinetry. But did I want to write in a dark brown room?  Would you?

So the quest for a new color began. This study isn’t tucked away. It’s right off the lanai and the kitchen.  More important it looks over the waterway behind our house. I was afraid that yellow, even a soft yellow, would fight with the scenery and the cabinets. So I took another gamble. As of today the walls are now Sea Salt by Sherwin Williams, a pale blue-green-gray. I’ve seen Sea Salt or its comrades on other walls in other houses. The color changes with the light, and it’s difficult to describe. What I know for sure is that the room now seems three times larger, and the blue-green rug that graced our Virginia dining room looks happily at home on the bamboo floors, adding a richness to the color of the walls. The view beyond the walls seems to pop, which couldn’t make me happier.

Will a blue/green/gray room stimulate creativity? My thimble full of research this evening (conducted after the paint dried) says that blue brings down the heart rate and blood pressure, and green is the most restful color in the spectrum. Does this mean I’ll write quieter books?

I do know this. I’m happy with my choice, but I couldn’t let go of yellow entirely. My sewing room, formerly cocoa-brown, as well,  is now yellow.   A lovely, happy yellow that will, I hope, inspire happy quilts. And if I feel my energy flagging in my quiet blue room, I can always visit my sewing room for a quick pep-me-up.

What colors inspire you? What colors give you energy? Do you like to take chances, or do you stick with what works?  What was the last paint color you chose and why?  I hope you’ll tell us.