Marcia Lynn McClure

My Favorite Latin Lover

2009-03-03T07:22:00.000-08:00

Once in a while (actually…most of the time) I’m just a tender-hearted sap! “Surely not you, Marcia!” you’re thinking…right? But seriously—certain things just pluck at my little heartstrings like you wouldn’t believe! One of those things happened in January—when Ricardo Montalban died! How sad! I loved Ricardo! Loved his handsomeness, his eyes, his smile—and of course his voice! He was an icon of my youth! And NOT because of the TV show, Fantasy Island! I loved Ricardo for his roles in those wonderful musicals of the 1950’s! Especially a little known movie entitled, Two Weeks with Love! Oh my heck! I soooooooo remember seeing Two Weeks with Love for the first time when I was really, really young! Starring Jane Powell and Ricardo Montalban, Two Weeks with Love absolutely captured my heart!
Funny, romantic, entirely adorable—this movie has endured as one of my very, very favorites! AND it’s why I love Ricardo Montalban! I love when Demi Armendez (Ricardo’s character in the movie) get’s covered in tapioca one night at dinner! Patty (Jane Powell) says, “Oh! Tapioca!” Demi (Ricardo) then says, “With raisins,” picking a raisin out of the tapioca covering his jacket. Oh my heck! You have to love it! AND you have to see it! It’s a very hard movie to find—especially on DVD! It’s available on my website right now (Marcia’s Bookstore) but quantities are very limited! Yet, I love the movie so much—adore Ricardo Montalban so entirely—that I felt the need to pay tribute to him here—small tribute, perhaps—but tribute all the same! And so...click the link below (it will take you to a Youtube.com clip)…and enjoy one of my favorite scenes from Two Weeks with Love—a tango starring my favorite latin lover!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-gXFdQIyQE&feature=related

Shirts and Laddies…(Just All In Good Fun!)

2009-01-30T20:10:00.000-08:00

Remember how much fun we all had with “Kissing Clue” back in November? Well, though I’m feeling a little shy about trying it…someone suggested another fun thread to me! AND I think I have the guts today to post it!

However, I must preface by revealing a secret to you…seriously…it’s a total secret that only like 8 people have owned a knowledge of before this minute! So…here’s my confession:

Years and years ago—when I first began letting a few close friends read my stories—a group of us used to get together and have “readings!” One of my friends—who was a really great read-out-louder—would read my stories aloud, while the rest of us dipped strawberries in chocolate, ate Rise Krispie Treats, candy, various appetizers, etc. It was during one of these delicious events—a reading of “The Foundling” (you know it by its published title, Desert Fire)—that my friends began to comment on the fact my heroes always managed to strip off their shirts somehow! It was true! I’m not sure I had consciously become aware of it yet. Still, we all giggled and commented, teased and discussed it. Therefore, on that very night—I promising my friends then and there that I would always manage to have the hero appear shirtless somewhere in my stories! Actually, I think I promised them that the hero would always remove his shirt somehow…or have it removed somehow! Consequently—thanks to my friends and mostly because it just works for me—you can always find my heroes appearing bare-chested somewhere in the story! ! (As a side note, I once had reader’s husband (ex-Marine) tease me and tell me his wife couldn’t read my books anymore because she’d told him he took his shirt off wrong!)

(As another side note…when The Foundling was being sent into publication, the publisher was afraid people would misread the title…you know…omitting the “u” and thereby misconstruing the meaning of the word. So—one afternoon before the book was headed for the printer—the VP of the publishing company, the marketing staff, and myself were sitting around a conference table tossing up possible titles! The VP (Jeff) suggested, “Shirtless Men in the Desert!” Then, “Hairy Chests Forever!” We all laughed as he came up with title after title referring to just this familiar tag in my books! It was finally agreed…Desert Fire…would be the new title of The Foundling—I still prefer, The Foundling, though.)

Anyway, a friend suggested to me that since we all had so much fun with the “Kissing Clue” blog… I should try a “Name Your Favorite Shirtless Scene” game! (I’m like totally blushing right now!) Instead of Chutes and Ladders…let’s call it Shirts and Laddies! Okay?

So, if you’re game I’ll start it out with two of my favorites…

“There he stood, in the cool October weather wearing boots, pants, a hat, well-worn gloves—and no shirt.” –Jackson McCall in Desert Fire

“Violently he tore open his soiled shirt, sending buttons flying throughout the room. Wadding it up, he brutally threw it at her feet.” –Race Trevelian in Indebted Deliverance
(Okay…THIS one is one of my favorites! Remember? When she smashes her breakfast all over his front and me makes her clean it up?)

New Year Changes

2009-01-09T08:13:00.000-08:00

Moving is crazy! I’m so behind! Still, I wanted to share a few photos with you! Saying goodbye to 2008 and a beautiful beginning to 2009!

I call this one, “The Ghost of Christmas Past!” My nephew and I were fiddling around with timed exposure on Christmas Eve! See my “ghost” off to the left? I’m so weird!

New Year’s Eve found us enjoying the company of good friends! Here are a couple photos of Kevin and his buddy Tracy getting ready for a mean round of Wii tennis! The boxing was out of control! Silly boys!

Nothing like a little sparkling cider to usher in the new year! I guess all the women were just too short to make it into the photo!

You KNOW how I LOVE seeing hot air balloons drifting through the sky! One evening, just before sunset, my boys and I spotted a couple! Love it!

The Time of Aspen Falls

2008-12-17T11:03:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas! Things are crazy at our house right now...so many things going on...including a move on the 27th! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Still, guess what's just around the corner...The Time of Aspen Falls! At Last! Thought I'd share a little secret with you...and here's the cover! Let me know what what you think!

It was Mason…in the Library…With the Red Dress!

2008-11-09T09:45:00.000-08:00

The other day a friend wrote me a little note concerning my books. She mentioned what her favorite books are and then said, “The best kiss: Mason, with the red dress, in the library.”

Well, naturally my mind began to think, “It sounds like the board game, Clue!” Instnatly, My mind began to whip up kissing scenarios from my own books! I began with reworking my friend’s idea to sound more like Clue. Thus, I began:

It was Mason…in the library…with the red dress!

And continued,

It was Ransom…in the pumpkin patch…with the pumpkin guts!

It was Ryder…in the barn…without a shirt!

It was Jackson…in the cave…with a nickel!

It was Brant…in the cellar…with a spider!

It was Brevan…in the kitchen…with the cake batter!

It was Reese…in the restaurant…with a Highwayman of Tanglewood mask!

It was Michael…in the parlor of the General Store …with a toothpick!

It was Bo…in front of the rehab center…with Green Eggs and Ham!

It was Brockton…in the stable…with a locket!

It was Knight…in the broom closet…with a fever!

It was Lobo…under a cherry tree…with a cherry pit!

It was Swaggart…on top of the pickup…with a rootbeer!

Sounds like a fun game, huh! Add a comment here, or e-mail me your “Kissing Clue” mystery solver card suggestions for the above—or for the following! Just for fun! We need some light-hearted, silliness today! Right?

It was Rebel…

It was Scott…

It was Valor…

It was Gareth…

It was Lochlan…

It was Merrick…

It was Michael…

It was Paxton…

It was Race…

It was Stover…

It was Rogan…

It was Slater…

It was Tom…

It was Trader…

Every Picture Tells a Story

2008-10-29T12:06:00.000-07:00

We’ve all heard it said, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” and “Every picture tells a story.” How true, how true! I was thinking about that just the other day and thought, “Hey! I oughta blog about a picture once in a while…just to demonstrate the truthfulness of it all! And so…here’s my first attempt and example—“Every Picture Tells a Story.”

I’ll preface by saying this—the picture I plan to tell a story about today…is a rotten, rotten, heinous picture of me! Therefore, a little explanation is in order.

Here I am…age 16…posing with a boy I had a crush on for like 7 hundred 47 and a half years. His name was simply, John. He was 19 in the picture and don’t you love the cliché, “Prom Pose?” You might be thinking, “Does THIS picture have a story? Is it worth a thousand words?” You betcha! I had been smitten with this guy since I was like 12! I had to wait until I was 16 for him to really take notice…and by the time this was taken…he had really taken notice! Obviously, he was planning to vote for “Sego” for Governor in 1981 and this photo was taken in his parents’ bedroom (that in itself is worth a 1000 words!). I could truly write 1000 words about this photo! It’s scratched up, and needs to be restored, but it’s still better than the ones you are about to see.

Now…we’re not quite to the photo in question yet…but let’s travel back in time from 1981 when “Sego” was running for Governor, to November of 1979. I was 14 and my bestest friend was Amy. She and I had ridden our bikes along the Rio Grande from her house all the way to downtown Albuquerque on this crisp November day. There was to be a church picnic at a big park downtown near the zoo and we totally HAD to be there. I mean, who knows what cute boys would show up? I knew John would be there, of course—what better reason for an eleven mile bike ride in the lovely autumn weather? Anyway, we arrived and began picnicking! Much to my delight, John chose me as his partner for a little party game called, “Blindfold Yourself and Feed Chocolate Pudding to the Blindfolded Boy You Have a Crush on While Your BFF Tries to Verbally Instruct You on How to Get the Pudding in His Mouth!” Fun times, eh? Therefore…here we have photo #2 of this blog: A blindfolded me feeding pudding to a blindfolded John while Amy tries to instruct me on where his mouth is! (Note the lovely cottonwood trees in the background. Too bad this photo isn’t in color!) It was a fun game…sort of fun anyway…and John didn’t get mad at me for slopping pudding all over his face. As I remember, he rubbed his sloppy chin against my cheek to soak me with pudding! How romantic!

(Note the lovely cottonwood trees in the background. Too bad this photo isn’t in color!) It was a fun game…sort of fun anyway…and John didn’t get mad at me for slopping pudding all over his face. As I remember, he rubbed his sloppy chin against my cheek to soak me with pudding! How romantic!

And there you have the pretense…the set up, if you will…for the photo that “Tells a Story.”

Behold…Nine persons in a photo taken in November of 1979…in a little park downtown in Albuquerque. The trees were lovely that day…all golden with soft cottonwood whispers of, “Autumn has come to Albuquerque.” Pudding was the treat of the moment—chocolate pudding—pudding and romance—and nine people posed for a photograph—just as so many other people have done for over a hundred years! Back row (left to right) Jeannette, then her sister Janice…my BFF Amy, pudding slathered John (not his best portrait day) and me (just about the worst photograph ever taken of good ol’ Marcia Lynn)! Front row (left to right) my little sister Luanna…Jenny K., little Stace B. and Jenny K.’s little sister Amy K.

Now I plan to spin “Every Picture Tells a Story,” a little bit. I’ve set up the circumstances of the photograph—explained when and where it was taken and a little bit about why it was important to me. Still, what I’d like to do is tell you more—the deeper reasons that I would cherish such a photo—especially when I look so terrible in it.

Jeannette (back row, far left) was a girl I grew up with…casually grew up with. I knew her and her best friend Julie was my best friend Amy’s sister. Jeannette was four years older than me and my mom and her mom were BFF’s….though I really didn’t understand how totally BFF’s until much later. I know it’s kind of crazy…but hopefully you’ve got it.

Janice was Jeannette’s older sister—older by about a year. Jeannette and Janice were inseparable! They did everything together—often with very comedic results. I didn’t know Janice as well…just that she was Jeannette’s cool older sister and had the best feathered hair I’d ever seen!

Amy—my BFF. Sooooo many stories to tell…too many for this blog! Just know that for about 7 years, we were nearly inseparable as well! Crushing on the same boys, singing duets and playing guitars—daydreaming, playing and anything else! True BFFs!

John—I’ve already told you about him. The handsome (okay he was in 1979) older man I mooned over for years!

Me—you’re friend Marcia.

My little sister Luanna—Lu to her good friends and family.

Jenny K.—about four years younger than myself—who would one day become quite a good friend.

Stace B.—a little girl I used to baby-sit and sing songs with.

Amy K.—Jenny’s little sister…who I also used to baby-sit.

Life changed for Jeannette not too long after this photo was taken—it changed for Janice, too. It changed for all of us—we were never the same—though for Jeannette and Janice—life was never the same. This photo taken in 1979 proceeded Janice being diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. At the age of 19, we all began to fear for her life. Yet, it was amazing how her family handled it all—with profound hope and incredible senses of humor! I won’t drag this story out—I can’t—I sob every time I remember it—every time I remember hearing from my mom what Janice was enduring—every time I think of being at the airport when she came home from Seattle after having endured a painful bone marrow transplant. I remember watching the news that night after we’d all met her at the airport—the story was that of hope and the last vision on the 10 o’clock news—the very last frame of film that paused to a still—was Jeannette’s face—a smiling, joyous expression—a photograph—an image that spoke millions of words! The doctors were hopeful—the prognosis for Janice good after the bone marrow transplant—and all that hope—all that happiness was displayed so radiantly on Jeannette’s face in that newsreel still. However, cancer is a monster, and in a very short time, it was discovered that Janice was filled with ovarian cancer—that maybe just a few cancer cells had hidden out all during her ordeal—hidden out in her ovaries, to explode with rapidity and fill her with the deadly disease. My mother was there when Janice passed away—at home—with her family around her. I remember my mom telling me how Jeannette stayed at her side, begging her sister not to go—and I can’t endure the memory without overwhelming sadness and a feeling of loss. Janice’s death crushed us all—we were never the same—but it’s Jeannette I see in my mind’s eye when I think of it—happy—resplendent at the airport that night when we all thought Janice had beaten death.

I don’t want to throw you into a whirlwind of melancholy—and so I’ll go on. Janice died and Jeannette was never the same. Yet, in 1984, when Kevin and I were engaged and then just newly married—Kevin started playing basketball with Tracy—Jeannette’s husband. They were fast friends and Jeannette and I started hanging out—attending the guys’ games—the four of us going back and forth between each other’s houses for dinner—going to movies, etc. The friendship grew and grew—blossomed and put down deep roots and I will tell you now that Jeannette is one of the greatest influences in my life—as well as a kindred spirit and best friend! When you see photos on facebook or my website of Jeannette and I or our kids all together—there are more photos with more stories testifying to a true, loyal and enduring friendship of 24 years! Our children can’t remember any time of life without Jeannette’s and Tracy’s kids being their best friends! I can’t express to you the depth of the relationships we’ve all forged—the profound love we hold for one another. And there we are—on two separate ends of a row of people—so long ago when we had no idea that we would end up treasuring one another so completely! I suppose I can’t leave you without an updated photograph, right? So, here ya go! This is Jeannette and me last May—being our silly selves—as always! (This is our silly ‘face-lift’ pose—we do one every time we’re together.) Isn’t it crazy to compare the two photos? Isn’t it wild—the way people enrich our lives?

Isn’t strange—to see my little sister—who just finished her year-long treatment for breast cancer—standing in front of Janice—who used to baby-sit her—and whose sister became my best friend? Every time I see this picture—see my little sister standing there with her big dark eyes and little zip-up jacket—I see Janice behind her and thank my Father in Heaven that my sister made it—and ask him to comfort Jeannette for having lost hers.

Little Stace B.? Well, she grew up and married a guy named Kirk. What’s wild is this—any of you who have seen the movie Red Dawn or the movie The Outsiders have seen her brother-in-law! Remember the guy who swallows the bug in Red Dawn—he’s like the mayor’s son or something—and then he gets shot by his friend? Yep! That’s Darren Dalton and he’s little Stace B’s brother-in-law! He’s the rich guy named Randy (I think) in The Outsider’s, too! If you grew up in the 80’s at all…you know him!

Little Amy K. once dated Shawn Bradley—the really tall NBA player in the movie Space Jam!

Jenny K. became a good friend of mine when she was just a bit older than she is here! I remember we cut her hair once when her mom was gone—short—way short! But it was adorable! Once, when we were still teenagers, I was talking to her on the phone and she sounded like she was crying.

“What’s wrong, Jenny?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just plucking my eyebrows!”

We dressed up like big water droplets for a play once and had tons of other fun in those youthful years!

John grew up and became like an OB-GYN or something. Maybe it was plastic surgery? Maybe it was OB-GYN and then plastic surgery—I can’t remember. I loved his parents then and I love them now! They were very influential in my life and I miss his mom and dad every day.

Amy—my BFF in this photo—she and I were embroiled in life for many years—didn’t see each other forever! Thankfully, however, I get to see her at least once a year now! She has adorable kids and we sit around and reminisce, laugh, and enjoy each other’s friendship! Just the other day I was driving to the airport and The Bee Gees version of Tragedy came on! Of course I HAD to call Amy up on the cell and we began pulling things out of the darkest, dustiest corners of our minds.

“Remember that Romeo and Juliet play we did when we were twelve? Who was your dance partner?” I asked.

“Denny Stong!” she laughed.

It took us a bit longer to remember who mine had been—but boy did the memories start flowing! I miss her everyday!

To this point, this blog is 2,041 words long—nearly half a book chapter—and I’ve only scratched the dust on the surface of this subject—on the surface of this old, faded, black and white photograph! I could literally write a book on four of the people in this photo—and long, long essays on the other four! “Every picture tells a story!” Every one! This one tells more than one story…it tells a million! And I think that’s why I cherish photographs so desperately—photographs and memories. After all…aren’t they one in the same?

Every picture tells a story—and the weird one below—well, let’s just say it involved finding dead guppies in my bra and leave it at that!

My Pumpkin Bedroom

2008-10-11T17:09:00.000-07:00

I think we all have one or two rooms in our homes reigning as favorites. Maybe even for entirely different reasons! Take me, for example—I have two! The first is the smaller family room at the back of our house—it’s comfortable, bright and the sliding glass door looks out onto our deck, the aspens, the pastures and Pikes Peak. However, the reason this room is one of my favorites is because it’s the room where we seem to spend most of our time together as a family! We lounge and talk and laugh and tell stories—and for that reason it is one of my favorite rooms! I think we spend more time in that room just being together and having fun, than we do any other room in the house (during waking hours, naturally).

Nevertheless, it’s my pumpkin room that makes me smile! My Pumpkin Room (or “The Pumpkin Patch,” as I like to call it) is simply the most serene, soothing, dreamiest room in our home! It’s a guest bedroom, and I love to have good friends come and nestle down in, “The Pumpkin Patch!”

With soft chocolate brown suede comforters on the bed, piled high with pumpkin pillows (and—as you can see—an occasional kitty cat), the beds in “The Pumpkin Patch” are cozy and warm! Pumpkin nightlights (two) add a warm orangey glow to the room, a pumpkin tissue box provides comfort if anyone is struggling with the sniffles, and one can even enjoy the soft sweet song of evening crickets (via the unseen sound machine under one bed) as one drifts gently off into an inviting, autumn-orange dreamland. Naturally, one of my favorite things about the room is the artwork—pumpkin-themed, of course. The room is even pumpkin scented—with the faint autumn-scent of Yankee Candle Spiced Pumpkin! It’s wonderful!

Sadly, the photos I’ve taken of, “The Pumpkin Patch” (taken of a cozy autumn evening, of course), don’t do the room justice—the photos can’t literally draw you into the heavenly atmosphere of “The Pumpkin Patch.” Still, I thought I’d share one of my secret delights with you—I love to take a few children’s pumpkin-themed books, retreat into the cozy bliss of “The Pumpkin Patch,” and slowly slip into a quiet, serene nap! Love it!

I try to make every room in my house a place of retreat—a shelter from the storms of the stress and chaos of life. I think it’s important for my children to come home to soft, tranquil comfort—love and special things that speak and breath of security and family. I think we’re all like that, of course—but since it’s my favorite month of the year—my delicious, wonderful, beloved “pumpkin” month—I thought I’d share “The Pumpkin Patch” with you! I know, I know—all you needed was another reason to think I’m an eccentric, crazy woman! Still, I hope our special room—“The Pumpkin Patch” of Serenity—added a little autumn distraction to your day! Happy October days! (Have you bought your pumpkins yet?)

Love Story Video

2008-09-30T19:54:00.000-07:00

Oh, my heck! I have found the best music video ever! Actually, a friend e-mailed me over a week ago and told me she had seen it, and that it totally reminded her of my books! I LOVE it! Furthermore, it reminded me of a scene I had just written for one of my new stories! It’s fabulous! I really don’t need to say anything else! Just click on the link included here to watch the best music video ever! Let me know what you think!

http://www.cmt.com/videos/taylor-swift/275121/love-story.jhtml?id=1594647

People Don’t Shuck Enough Corn Anymore!

2008-09-18T07:55:00.000-07:00

I think I’ve stumbled upon something very important! Seriously! I’ve had an epiphany—if you will…that being—people don’t shuck enough corn anymore! It’s true! I mean…just think about it for a minute—remember how relaxing it was to sit outside on a warm autumnal day, ‘mid a few big ol’ burlap sacks full of corn, and just have nothing to do but shuck?

Personally, I’ve always loved to shuck corn. In truth, I wasn’t that fond of snapping beans—though I did enjoy shelling peas. However, neither snapping beans nor shelling peas involved, “the worm hunt!” Do you know what I mean? The good ol’ corn shucking “worm hunt.” Ah! Now that was adventure! Again, sitting outside, surrounded by burlap sack after burlap sack of corn ears—you’d reach into the burlap sack (remember how itchy the burlap was? I played a Cinderella sort of princess in our 6^th grade school play and had to wear a burlap sack as a dress! NOT for the faint of heart or sensitive-skinned, I’ll tell you that!)—anyway, you’d reach into the sack, pull out an ear of corn, and immediately check to see if the silk at the top was mushy and slimy. Remember? Oh, joy! To get your hands on an ear with mushy, slimy corn silk—fabulous! Because, of course (as you well know) mushy, slimy corn silk meant worms! And that, my friends, was the true quest for adventure!

First of all, where would the worm be located? Would it be nestled just inside the silk—just at the top of the ear—or further down inside—like a little prize in a box of Cracker Jacks? Therein lay the thrill—being startled by where the worm actually was!

Furthermore, there was the excitement over worm size! Once you found the worm, would it be a little bitty worm—or a nice big juicy one? Little worms didn’t do much—just sort of played freeze-tag, hoping you wouldn’t notice—like you were going to smooth the corn husk back into place and put it neatly back in the burlap sack or something. But the big ones—now they were fun to find! Not only were the grossed-out goose bumps rippling over your arms more plethoric, but the big corn worms always sort of craned their necks around to look at you—as if you’d just walked in on them taking a shower or something—you know…like they owned the ear of corn and you were inconveniencing them.

Yep, the “worm hunt,” was definitely one of the better amenities of shucking corn! Still, it was the sitting out in the sun on an inviting autumn day…with nothing more to do than shuck some corn. That is the true lost pleasure—moments of serenity. Just shucking and thinking—thinking and shucking. Mmmmm!

Time is lost these days—time to simply sit and contemplate seems lost to us. Life is so fast-paced, stressful, demanding. There just doesn’t seem to be time to think, ponder, reminisce and laugh anymore! We need that—our souls crave it.

Autumn itself is a relaxing time—things slow down—the stability of routine, lost to the chaos of summer, returns and settles us a bit. Even nature begins to relax as gardens wither and trees change their leaves to sweaters of resting colors. Oh, sure the harvest is busy, busy—but it’s a different kind of busy—a more satisfying, delicious kind of busy—AND it provides bean-snapping, pea-shelling, corn-husking kinds of moments! Autumn and harvest lend a different feel to the very air—a feel of hope—a sort of overall sigh of relief and the anticipation of possible respite.

And that, my friends, is what I mean when I say, “People don’t shuck enough corn anymore.” We so badly need those corn-shucking moments—our souls and minds and bodies need the reprieve. Oh, I know it’s fatiguing to do the actually canning or freezing following the shucking. It’s the preparation that gives one the moment of joy—the anticipation that’s fun!

I mean, consider a party, or even Christmas gift-giving—isn’t it more fun to plan the party—to make the baked-goods or buy the gift that provides the most satisfaction and fun? It’s true! It’s the same with shucking corn—it’s the shucking that’s fun—not necessarily the canning and/or freezing!

Oh, I know—I’m rambling on and on. Still, just look at this photo of me (age 6)—I mean, once you get past the profound style and beauty of my 1971 outfit—you have a glimpse into simpler times—when there was time—time to just sit on the fence while the cows were in the barn being milked—time to think—time to smile when you’d hear the squeaky screen door stretch open and see Mom step out onto the back porch to call, “Run on over here, sweetie. We’ve got corn to shuck!”

(Heavy sigh…) Yep—people just don’t shuck enough corn anymore.

Where'd that Mummified Wolf Thing Come From??

2008-09-08T13:35:00.000-07:00

Okay…I’ll do it! I’ll answer the question put to me over and over and over since the release of Sweet Cherry Ray! That question being…where in the world did I come up with the idea for the mummified/dehydrated wolf Cherry fondly dubs, “Old Red?”

However, consider this fair warning, (the image contained in this blog may be disturbing to some!) for…as often is the case in my stories… “Old Red” was based on a true-life experience! And so we begin…

Way back in the summer of 1995, our little family was enjoying a lovely afternoon at “Grandma’s House.” Kevin and I had piled Sandy, Mitch and Trent into our little car and headed down to Albuquerque’s North Valley to my mom and dad’s house. An uncle, aunt and some cousins were visiting from Colorado and we wanted to spend some time with them.

My aunt and uncle had one of their grandsons with them, and he and Mitch (being near the same age) had run off in search of fun and adventure in Grandma’s back yard. (I mean, let’s face it…Grandma and Grandpa’s house is always filled with fun and adventure, right?) At the time, my parents had lived in this house on Pueblo Luna Dr. N.W., for about 23 years at the time. I had spent many of my growing up years there as well—during which my sister and I found all kinds of interesting things in that yard, the gardens and sheds.

Back yard adventuring for my sister and I included hunting for black widows, keeping tomato worms and toads for pets, squashing squash bugs, playing with stray kittens, lifting up old bricks and rocks to see how many rollies-pollies were hiding beneath. We caught tadpoles and kept them in buckets, caught grasshoppers and made little environments for them out of detergent boxes (once we kept them in our room for too long and they died and started to stink). We played in mud, ate dirt, watch mud daubers build little mud nests on the underside of the porch roof. We took hammers and split open rocks to find little geodes inside, hung on the wire clothesline out back, ran from wasps building nests in the clothesline poles, peered down into the creepy old well out by the garden, ventured into the old shed on the east side of the property. Ah, yes! The old shed! The old wall-less shed—overgrown with honeysuckle and home to an old wooden piano crate! (Sound familiar?)

Now, my sister and I weren’t really supposed to go into the shed. My dad stored old horse/mule-drawn farm equipment in there and it was dark and crawling with spiders (and an occasional skunk). However, we loved the honeysuckle vines that fairly swallowed up the old shed! All summer we’d venture near the old well we were supposed to stay away from, to the old shed we were supposed to stay away from, to the fragrant honeysuckle vines! There we’d spend who knows how long plucking the pretty yellow blossoms, carefully tugging out the filaments, and relishing the sweet taste of the tiny droplets of nectar clinging to them!

Of course, I ventured into the old shed once in a while…it was dark and creepy and filled with mystery! The perfect place for my imagination to run wild! And in the end...I guess my imagination did!

In fact, it is this very shed, its creepy innards, combined with something Mitch found within, that ultimately inspired “Old Red,” in Sweet Cherry Ray.

So…it’s 1995…July, I believe…and Mitch (age 5) and this little cousin were out and about in the wondrous world of Grandma and Grandpa’s back yard. I remember warning Mitch to stay away from the old spider-ridden and very deep well…but I must’ve forgotten to mention the old shed. So, there we all are…in the house, enjoying a bit of light conversation…when all of a sudden I hear my infinitely patient, rarely rattled, sweet, kind-hearted, mother yelling, “Mitchel Lee! You put that down and get in house and wash your hands with hot soap and water!”

Now, you must understand…my mother never, never, never raises her voice to her grandchildren! More often than not, especially in those early days when they were little, she would sit at the kitchen table with them, patiently striking match after match after match and letting my kids simply blow them out. She didn’t care if it took a whole box of matches! If they were having fun blowing out matches…she’d strike ‘em all day long! Or, perhaps, she’d be reading 26 books in a row to them (no exaggeration), or taking them on little nature walks, or running outside with them to see the hot air balloons floating silently over the house. She’d sit in the grass with them, hunt bugs with them, let them play in a sink full of soapy water…but never did she ever raise her voice to them. That’s why I knew something was amiss when I heard her insisting to Mitchel that he run in the house and wash his hands with “hot soap and water!” (Isn’t that funny? She really did say it that way, “Hot soap and water.” Not, “Hot water and soap,” and I just realized…I’ve always said it just that same way… “Hot soap and water.” Hm? Funny!)

Well, naturally we were all startled, and worried. What on earth would cause Mom to holler that way at her little Mitchel? Rushing out onto the back porch we soon discovered what. It seems Mitch and the little cousin had ventured into the old shed, and when Mitch had called to Grandma to come and see the old ‘toy’ he’d found inside, what he’d held out to her had caused all her “Grandma’s Germaphobia Genes,” to unleash!

As we all piled out the back door to see what the fuss was about, there, on the back porch, was the ‘toy’ Mitchel had found in the old shed. Only, as you’ve already guessed, it wasn’t a toy at all! Rather, it was a mummified cat! A little worse for the wear, (for Mitch had immediately dropped it, having been entirely shocked by his grandma’s horrified reaction) the cat still had skin, tufts of fur, claws and teeth! Well, being that we were all paranoid adults afraid of disease and germs, we agreed my dad should pitch it over the fence into the neighbor’s field. Sadly, that was before we thought better of it…before we realized what a great and very rare find a mummified cat actually was! We should’ve kept it, of course…but we didn’t. However, I did have the foresight to snap a photograph of it as Dad picked it up with the pitchfork…mere moments before he pitched it over the fence. And I’m glad I did…because the tale of, “Mitch, Grandma and the Mummified Cat,” is legendary in our family and the photo is the only proof we have!

Upon reflection, and because of the patches of calico fur still evident on the cat, my mom and dad came to the conclusion that this was our family cat, Calico—who disappeared after being left outside during a weekend trip in 1984 (Poor thing!). Calico had disappeared 11 years before Mitchel had found her out in the old honeysuckled-covered shed—found her in one corner, near the old wooden piano crate. Winters are dry in Albuquerque and summers are very hot and dry…perfect conditions, it would seem, for certain forms of mummification.

And there you have it! A favorite (albeit, morbid) family legend of ours that inspired a piece of one of my stories! It never ceases to amaze me…the experiences in life that can give birth to creativity! Crazy, isn’t it? That’s why I like life, and that’s why I like old sheds—you never know what you’re going to find in them!

Post Office Fun

2008-08-30T13:22:00.000-07:00

Sometimes…when life is just overwhelming and you’re tired of running hither and yon and back…sometimes it’s the littlest moments that carry you through. Sometimes just the tiniest allocation of time spent with a friend, imprints on your mind and gives you something to smile about for the rest of the week, month, or your life! I had one of those moments just a while back…a wonderful, funny, short-lived moment that has lingered in my mind and heart for weeks and weeks now. That moment has carried me through many an overwhelming day, and believe me that moment was fleeting! However…in an effort to recognize and truly appreciate these simple gifts…these moments of reprieve and joy and the people who gift them to me…I’ve just got to share this one with you.

As you know, I love the folks at the United States Post Office! Over the years I’ve made several good friends via my trips to the good ol’ USPO. Even though I only see them when I’m actually mailing things (which is often), I’ve grown to cherish their presence and influence on my life.

Let me take just a moment to commend those who work at the ol’ USPO. It ain’t an easy job, by any means! I cannot believe the pressure and stress postal workers endure, and I’m often flabbergasted at the bad treatment they receive from customers. Unbelievable! And I hope that the friends I have who work at the good ol’ USPO know how much I appreciate their help!

Anywho…Debbie is like totally my funnest Post Office friend! I’ve known her for a couple of years now and we always chat, exchange candy, etc. (I simply HAD to introduce her to Peachie-O’s last year! She’d never had them! Can you imagine? And she made the yummiest Corn Flake treats this past Valentine’s Day! Yummy!) Debbie just makes my day whenever I see her, but lately Kevin has been doing a lot of my post office stuff, since he’s down in town most every day anyway…so I haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time with her. (Kevin adores Debbie, too! She and Richard are the best! (Richard’s my other fun postal friend!) That reminds me…I still owe Richard some deviled eggs and ham!)

So, since I haven’t seen Debbie very often lately, you can imagine how delighted I was the other day when I opened my post office box, reached in and felt her grab my hand! My post office box is on the top row and very high. In fact, I have to tiptoe to reach into the back of it.

On this particular day, when I reached into it, Debbie grabbed my hand and said, “Hey, girl!” I tiptoed up to see if I could see her because, Debbie is short, too.

“I can only see the top of your head!” I said.

“I can only see your bangs!” she said.

And so we stood…on our tiptoes…talking and looking at each other’s bangs through my post office box. Debbie was “throwing” mail, and I had to hurry, so we didn’t talk long…BUT…it was what I like to call, “a WOW moment.” Just that short, fun conversation with Debbie, when I could simply hold her hand and see her bangs…just those few moments gave me such a lift as to carry me through with a smile here and there for weeks!

Good friends are invaluable, as are “WOW,” moments! When life is chaotic or too demanding, friends and our happy moments with them carry us through on light-hearted wings! How grateful I am for, “WOW,” moments! How grateful I am for Debbie!

I need to write Debbie a note and let her know what that brief moment…what the vision of her bangs through my post office box and the tender offer of her hand…what they meant to me. I’ll do it! I’ll do it now! Because if one thing’s for sure…when we do enjoy a “WOW” moment, we need to express our gratitude for it! Thanks, Debbie! With that one simple offer of friendship and time, my life was enriched for eternity!

Fern Tales

2008-07-10T19:29:00.000-07:00

The only houseplant I can grow…Boston ferns! What’s weird is this…most of my friends who have an otherwise uncanny green-thumb with houseplants…can’t seem to grow a healthy Boston fern for nothin’! Therefore, I’ve decided that it’s an inherited trait!

When I was a kid we had this Boston fern…it was my great-grandmother’s (my mom’s grandmother) (My dad’s grandmother owned a fern that, at one point, was so big, it was finally repotted into a porcelain bathtub!). Our fern sat on this dark-finished table and, when I was very, very little (much smaller than I am now, naturally), I used to curl up on the little shelf and play under that fern! What adventures I had! Of course, I’d always end up in the arms of my hero (proxy-the large rocking chair which had once belonged to my grandpa).

Here in fact, is a lovely glamour photo of me with my parent’s fern! As ever the fashion trend-setter, I grew as did our fern. (Look! Off to the right you can see what my sister and I now refer to as, “the sacred cloth!” All through our childhoods, this marvelous metallic woven cloth nestled under our Christmas tree! Year after year after year my sister and I would sit in awe at its blue metallic beauty! Oh, what a magical cloth it was! Well, one day, several years ago, I asked my mother, “Mom…where did you get the sacred cloth?” Her response, “Oooh! That was an old cow show blanket we used at the fair one year!” Nice!)

Anywho, ferns seem to be in my blood! I have only ever lost one…on our move from New Mexico to Washington. I think the weather change was just too traumatic for “Fernetta,” as my friend called her.

I have four ferns now…this large one being the oldest and most durable! I started this fern in Ferndale, Washington (how apropos, eh?) about 7 years ago! Originally it was about eight inches in diameter. The amazing thing is, when we moved to Colorado three years back and ended up trapped in a blizzard in Wyoming…this fern froze and died down to about five short little fronds! It’s growing at such a rate that, even though I haven’t repotted it for three years…it’s busting at the seams! Here are two photos of about 4 weeks of growth…Sandy with it in May and then another photo in June! Yowzers! I need a higher table and a bigger pot!

This second little fern I started in May two years ago and it was about eight inches in diameter then as well. As you can see, it’s quite happy living in the opposing corner of the room on top of an old trunk that our cat, Jed, thinks is his personal nap-throne! (As you can see…this fern was having a better hairstyle experience in May than it was in June! I sort of know how it feels.)

Two other ferns I have are still struggling through relocation trauma…however, considering they’re only a year old, they look pretty good! Not as full and as long as these…but getting there!

And now you know another one of my secrets…I can’t grow any other houseplant to save my life! But…I can grow a mean Boston fern! At least that’s something…right?

Morning Walks

2008-07-03T19:48:00.000-07:00

The sites one sees on one’s morning walk, eh? Not to mention the scents one smells, right? These past few summer mornings have been lovely! The comforting aroma of cow and horse manure wafting over the breeze—the low-hum buzzing of the bumble bees as they flit from thistle blossom to thistle blossom in their rather heavy, bumbling-bee manner—the birds perched on the posts and singing their morning songs—the bunnies hiding in the grass! All of these things combine to make my morning walks so soothing—so greatly needed!

Wishing I could share it with you, I snapped a few photos this morning…just a few little views so that you can see a little bit of what I see when I’m walking in the fresh morning air!

As I stepped away from the house, I glanced down to see the clover, pasture grass and those little miniature daisies lining the dirt road as if Mother Nature had planted them there just to brighten my day!

Mmmmm! As the fresh morning air greeted me, my little bird friend (he/she is there every morning and just sits chirping away as I pass) greeted me with a friendly song! (I need to get a bird book and look up this little guy!)

Next, the bumble bee trail met me! These guys are huge! You know that scene in “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids”…the one where the guy is holding onto the bee…well I’m tell you, when one of these guys comes buzzing at you…it’s like a ‘point of view’ shot from that movie! Kind of gives me goose bumps (the bad kind) every time one zooms across my path!

Here’s the fence post…the place where I turn around and head back for home! I love this old post for some reason. You can even see Pikes Peak in the background there!

And here’s one looking down my driveway! You can sort of see the house nestled there among the trees across from the barns!

I didn’t see any bunnies on my walk this morning, but a little ground squirrel was there as I walked up toward the house. See if you can find him in the first photo before you see him up close in the second!

And now you, too, have seen a few of the sights I saw on my walk this morning! It’s a lovely walk! Wish you were here…we could ramble along the dirt road for hours just dodging giant bumble bees, listening to birds and savoring the wonderful, comforting scent of manure!

The Nevilles

2008-06-11T06:44:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday night was fabulous and it was all about my kids and the Neville Brothers! Let me explain a little…years and years ago I discovered Aaron Neville. His duets with Linda Ronstadt (All My Life is one) released in 1989, are still some of my favorites and way back then Aaron Neville entirely captured me. A couple of years later…after Aaron Neville had received some great response from the duets, he released a solo album, Warm My Heart. This album with its soothing southern-sounding songs and especially Aaron Neville’s voice affected me like nothing else ever had. Oh, I don’t know…it could’ve just been my age or the time of life I was in…but whatever it was, Kevin and I loved Aaron’s music. Our whole family…even our little, little kids…did!

The fact Aaron Neville was from New Orleans added to our intrigue of course…Kevin is from New Orleans as you know…and we soon discovered Aaron performed with his brothers…The Neville Brothers. Naturally, we gave The Neville Brothers a try, too. The result…we LOVED them! A little funkier than most of Aaron’s solo stuff, the Neville Brothers were fabulous in a similar, yet different way.

Almost instantly we discovered a song by the Nevilles called, Bird on a Wire…the rest is history…and, odd as it may sound, for 16 years Bird on a Wire has been sort of like our family’s theme song. We listened to it on road trips, dubbed it to a hot air ballooning video we sent to friends one Christmas, and all through our lives it has come to mean something deeply personal to each of us. Although the Neville Brothers didn’t write Bird on a Wire, they did add a lyrical and melodic bridge to the song that touches me more deeply than I can even begin to explain. (I’ll copy the lyrics below.)

So, with that tiny bit of information…which doesn’t come near to explaining how our family loves Aaron Neville and the Neville Brothers…I’ll tell you about last Thursday!

My sister-in-law Jodi got to go with Sandy, Mitch, Trent and I because Kevin was sick (don’t worry…the Neville Brothers are back in Colorado Springs on September 11^th and I secretly bought tickets for me and Kevin to go…he never reads my blog so it’s safe to tell you!). Anyway, we were fortunate that mapquest gave us goofy directions to the amphitheater where the Nevilles were performing…fortunate because we were late enough to have to sit on the grass at the very base of the stage…which of course means we got to stand up right there in front! And I mean right in front!

Look…see the photo flash bleached out head to the left…that’s me! And, yes…Aaron was that close!

I’ve included a couple of other photos…me and Trent expressing our excitement as we impatiently wait for the Nevilles to appear. Don’t we look happy? That’s because we were!

Here’s Jodi, Mitch and Sandy easing toward the front of the stage during Dr. John’s opening performance!

At last, the Neville Brothers took the stage! Now, you must understand…these guys are mature! Art Neville (the eldest brother) is 71, Charles is 70, Aaron is 67, and Cyril is 60! And yet…you cannot believe the performance they give! One of my favorite visions of Aaron Neville is his performing while playing the tambourine. He’s so ultra cool, with these giant, solid as a rock forearms and cool sleeveless denim vest! It just all looks so out-of-character when you first see him, right? (Did you know he was married to his wife for almost 49 years before she died last year? You should read the article on Aaron and his wife Joel…very tender!)

In short, we all loved the concert! My kids and I “lived a dream” being so close to people who had touch our lives with such force…and didn’t even know it. The Neville Brothers ended their concert with Aaron singing, Amazing Grace. (Be sure and pause the playlist first.) It was beautiful. I’ve got a rather pixel-ish, bad sounding, little digital camera clip of it here for you. They are all deeply religious and their conviction is something you can absolutely ‘feel’ whenever they perform.

Anyway…just a little rambling about an evening last week that was epic in my life, and the lives of my kids. We hated for it to end, but it was fabulous! If you haven’t ever given Aaron Neville or the Neville Brothers a try…you should! Here are a few more photos to scroll through…just for fun!

Link to article about Aaron Neville and his wife: http://blog.nola.com/keithspera/2007/01/the_hardest_homecoming_aaron_n.html

Bird on a Wire

Like a bird on the wire,
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
Like a fish on a hook,
Like a knight from some old fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee.

If I’ve been unkind,
I hope that you can just let it, let it go by.
If I have been untrue,
I hope you know it was never to you.

Like a bird…free
There's a bird…free

Like a baby, stillborn,
Like a beast with his horn
I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
But I swear by this song
And by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.

Don't cry no more
Don't cry…
It's completed,
Oh, it's finished,
It’s been paid for

Like a bird…free
There's a bird...free
Like a bird…free
There's a bird...free

Like a bird…free,
There's a bird…free,
Like a bird…free,
There's a bird…free,

Like a bird (free)
On the wire, (free)
Like a drunk (free)
In a midnight choir (free)
Don't cry (free)
Don't cry (free)
Like a bird free (free)
Free

Like a bird free (free)
Free
….

ABC Tag

2008-05-11T07:48:00.000-07:00

Just for fun…someone sent me this Blog Tag and I discovered how very uninteresting I really am!

ABC TAG:
A = ADVOCATE FOR: Preserving the Past both in written form and with tangible evidence.

B = BEST FEATURE: Sense of humor?

C = COULDN'T DO WITHOUT: Autumn!

D = DREAMS AND DESIRES: More moments of serenity and fewer worries.

E = ESSENTIAL ITEM: Bra!

F= FAVORITE PAST TIME: Organizing and looking at photographs!

G = GOOD AT: Writing!

H = HAVE NEVER TRIED: Rat meat!

I = IF I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS: Purchase rural land and never allow it to be developed!

J = JUNKIE FOR: Bacon!

K = KINDRED SPIRIT: Anne Shirley!

L = LITTLE KNOWN FACT: I love Slim Whitman songs!

M = MEMORABLE MOMENT: Standing at Ruth’s grave with Patsy out in the pasture all those years ago…

N = NEVER AGAIN WILL I: Accidentally drink OxyClean!

O = OCCASIONAL INDULGENCE: Double feature movies!

Q = QUOTE: “It’s better to be happy in a cardboard shack, than to be alone in a castle. All you get for your money is a heart attack-I’d just as soon alleviate the hassle.” Nowhere With Love-Harry Connick, Jr.

R = REASON TO SMILE: Sweet memories of family and friends!

S = SORRY ABOUT: People who are suffering…for whatever reasons.

T = TAG SOME FRIENDS: Marnie L. Pehrson

U = UNINTERESTED IN: Rap music!

V = VERY SCARED OF: Spiders!

W = WORST HABIT: Over-eating!

X = X MARKS MY IDEAL VACATION SPOT: Albuquerque, New Mexico!

Y = YESTERYEAR DECADE OF CHOICE: 1980’s

Z = ZODIAC SIGN: Leo

But I Left My Sticks in Marnie’s Truck

2008-05-05T19:28:00.000-07:00

My visit to Chickamauga, Georgia to see my sister and her family was wonderful! Green, plush, slathered with historical sites and wonderful! There are so many little tales I could tell, but as I was showering this morning I realized something awful…I left my sticks in Marnie’s truck!

You know Marnie, of course, but what you may not know is that Marnie and my sister, Luanna, are really good friends and that Marnie lives near my sister! That’s how Marnie and I met…through my sister. Anyway, I couldn’t possibly go to Georgia to see my sister and not see one of my best friends who lives there, too! So one day my little niece, Sara, and I went to visit Marnie on her beautiful acreage in Ringgold, Georgia! Marnie, Sara and I wandered through the grass and green onions (green onions grow wild there) just enjoying the sunshine and looking for treasures. (Here’s a photo of Marnie, her dog and my darling little niece walking along. No…Marnie doesn’t really have alien antennas…I just wasn’t paying attention when I took this photo.)

The day was beautiful!! Everything green was greener than I’ve seen in years! And the sticks…well the sticks were great! There’s nothing like a good stick. Especially if you pick them up in a place you want to remember. So, as Marnie, Sara, Marnie’s dog and I were meandering toward Chickamauga Creek, I found a great little stick! It was actually probably more like a part of an old tree-limb, but it was moss-covered and dry…old and wonderful! Naturally, I had to have it…something to remember having been at Marnie’s. So I picked up the stick and the three of us continued our little walk. Marnie took a quick detour to look for her missing goats and then we found ourselves on the banks of Chickamauga Creek.

Marnie loves Chickamauga Creek...it inspires her in her writing and you can see why! Can’t you just imagine Marnie sitting in the green, green grass on the bank of this creek here…dogwood blossoms drifting down upon her little shoulders as she pens a tale of a Yankee soldier and his southern sweetheart? Chickamauga Creek...actually, Chickamauga itself, is an incredibly historical area. One of the most significant battles of the Civil War was fought here, and if you stand quietly, listening to the creek as it travels along, inhaling the scent of the trees and grasses…you can almost hear the past whispering to you. I think you’re beginning to see why I picked up the stick…I knew that every time saw it, held it, thought about my walk with Marnie and Sara to the Chickamauga Creek…I’d think of Marnie out there on the creek bank reliving history and writing away.

As we headed back to Marnie’s house…all too soon, I might add…we veered off the beaten path we’d taken before and into this lovely stretch of grass paralleling the creek. There I found another stick! It was just as interesting as the one I’d found before…and of course, I didn’t want the first stick to be lonely…therefore, I knew I had to have the second stick, too! Picking it up, I studied it carefully. Yes—another wonderful stick to remember Marnie and our lovely walk with! Wonderful!

Eventually, we headed back to Marnie’s house, Sara, Marnie’s dog and sticks in tow. We ate some left-over birthday cake, talked, and Marnie showed me some Cherokee artifacts she’d found as a kid and the hammer she’d made in college. It was a great afternoon and I was just glad I had my sticks to remember it by.

When it was time (my sister had been in town for a short chemo treatment), Marnie, Sara and I piled in Marnie’s pickup and headed down her driveway to meet my sister. That night, as I sat reflecting on our lovely walk, the creek, the men who had so long ago fought on those same banks Marnie visits now, I thought, “But I left my sticks in Marnie’s truck!” It was true! In my haste, and with everything else I was carrying when I transferred Sara and myself form Marnie’s pickup to my sister’s van…I’d left my treasure-sticks! Of course, I instantly called Marnie and told her not to throw my sticks away. At first, she thought I was nuts…asking her to ship old sticks to me. Still, once I explained their value as sentimental treasure…she understood.

Rocks and sticks have always been one of my favorite treasures to remember places by…and I need my Marnie’s pasture sticks! I need them so I can set them right next to the Albuquerque cottonwood tree sticks I have. You know…the old cottonwood tree sticks I picked up about eight years ago in Albuquerque down on the banks of the Rio Grande…the cottonwood tree sticks which have the dry cicada shells still clinging to them. Of course, I keep those sticks in an old jar so that the cicada shells don’t get smashed. (I loved to hear the cicadas in the trees in Albuquerque. I miss their summer song so much!) So anyway, you can see why I need my Marnie sticks! I loved my trip to beautiful Georgia! I’ll have to tell you the story of my sister and the giant moth. But for now…I just can’t believe I left my sticks in Marnie’s truck!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cicada