Author Archives: meretta

American Title III

Posted on by

My home page tells me…

Information which you receive from others and from within your own heart could impel you to participate in some ambitious projects, dear Libra. They may be work-related, or they may be connected with a group, or they could be your own. Whichever they are, you’re likely to find them interesting, challenging, and personally gratifying. New opportunities for advancement and self-expression could be opening up for you, and it’s best to move ahead now. Otherwise they might pass you by.

And FreeWill tells me…

“Think how it is to have a conversation with an embryo,” writes the poet Rumi, as translated by Coleman Barks. “You might say, ‘The world outside is vast and intricate. There are wheat fields and mountain passes and orchards in bloom. At night there are millions of galaxies, and in sunlight the beauty of friends dancing at a wedding.’ You ask the embryo why he or she stays cooped up in the dark with eyes closed. Listen to the answer. ‘There is no other world. I only know what I’ve experienced. You must be hallucinating.’” Now I say to you, Libra, that you are the embryo Rumi and Barks are addressing. Consider the possibility that they’re telling the truth. Come out and take a look around.

So in lieu of that…

ahem…cough…cough…stepping up to the podium.

I am thrilled to announce that RISING SIN, my romantic suspense manuscript is a finalist in the Romantic Times American Title III contest.

I’d like to thank Romantic Times for this opportunity and all of you who have helped me arrive at this point. Thank you all ever so much.

…stepping back.

I’m going to have to get better at self promotion, aren’t I?

Seriously, I might seem too calm and composed for such news, but it’s only because I’ve had almost a week to let the information digest.

For those of you who are unaware, there are 10 chosen finalists and each month starting in OCTOBER 16 people like YOU will vote for their favorites until only 2 finalists remain. The winner is awarded a PUBLISHING CONTRACT with Dorchester Publishing.

So. You can see that this is a BIG deal.

When I received the news (by email) DDs thought I was losing my mind. I don’t blame them. I yelled and jumped and WHOOTED.

I scared the dog, too. He’s still leery when I’m around.

But, as you can see, I’m in control of my faculties now. I hardly ever yell and jump and WHOOT anymore.

Well, not all three at once anyway.  ;)

Clogging 101

Posted on by

Hot diggety, folks. I’ve gone and done it. Been selfish and signed myself up for something completely and utterly me!!

I’m not doing this for the girls. Not for DH. It’s not even for writing. Or fitness. This time? It’s all about me and feeding my soul.

I tried this particular activity a couple of years ago, but wasn’t ready to let go of my “good mom” tendencies and was therefore thwarted. Soon enough somebody’s schedule interfered with mine and then before I’d known it, I’d caved and was carting kids to their functions again, completely oblivious to my own.

Not this time, though. This time I’ve channeled Cruela, so the little ones better be careful. DH, too.

It’s CLOGGING time!! Work it out now!!

Clogging shoesJust so you know, we’re not talking the clunky wooden clogs. Instead we’re referring to the streamlined, svelte and sexy (snort!) little doohickey’s to the left there.

And what do you do? You make the taps (front and back) click. Repetitively and with as much precision as possible. I don’t think my group has ever bounced quite like the couple above, but one can hope right? ;)

DH calls it “tickety, tickety” dancing, because that’s what it sounds like when I practice alone, but when you get a room of us going? MAN, there’s no better feeling than thumping and clacking out Bad Moon Rising or swiveling and snapping to Baby’s Got Her Blue Jeans On. The vibrations come up through the floor and reverberate though my soul. It’s that good. As good as chocolate. Oh yeah. I’m serious.

Classes start September 7. You know where I’ll be!!

Rites of Passage

Posted on by

PaterosaSo I’ve been AWOL the last few days. With good reason, though. First a whirlwind tour to far flung parts of the country (well, at least to another province) to visit the in-laws at their little cabin in the woods.

And then?

Then I dropped my oldest baby off at camp.
First time ever for her to be away from home. Drive I’m bearing up under the strain.

I have to think she must be too, because I haven’t gotten a mom-come-get-me phonecall. This parenting business is not for the faint-hearted.

In other news, yesterday I received a form rejection with a personal note written on it from a well known editor who doesn’t mince words. She invited me to send along more of my work, so definitely a silver lining!
Elk River

Gutbusting on the Edge

Posted on by

Due to familial commitments, I’ve (sadly and with much moaning) had to revoke my intentions to run the marathon in Victoria with Loreth this fall. The timing just won’t work now and so the hunt is on for a new race.

So far, I’ve found two that have caught my eye.

The Edge to Edge Marathon takes place in June each year and runs from Tofino to Ucluelet in the Pacific Rim National Park on Vancouver Island. Some gorgeous pictures of running on the beach and through the park here.

And then there’s the Gutbuster.

Enough said?

Gutbusters are run on the Island four times a year and though they’re not marathons, they are trail runs which would provide a whole new experience. I’m thinking my gut could use a little busting. I’d have to train way differently for this type of race, though, so this one I’ll have to pondering.

If you see or know of anything in your area, let me know?

Skunk Relocation 101

Posted on by

512_12091. Eat supper and through window spy “skunklet” rooting in deep hole dug by Tala, aka Diggy Dog.

2. Determine Diggy Dog’s location of guarding (in this case – 10 feet away and so enamored with a cob of corn she hasn’t even noticed said intruder).

3. Snort in contempt at Diggy Dog’s protective abilities and inform DH his dog is useless.

4. Go outside, camera in hand to take pictures of skunk for blog.

5. Find skunk. Or rather, don’t find skunk and give Diggy Dog a chance at redemption by coaxing her away from corn cob.

6. Beat back Tala, white wolf of protective fury, so that little skunk is no longer vibrating due to the extreme vocal outburst of said dog. Apologize to DH for dissing his dog.

7. Call out children from supper table to witness the tiny and trembling black and white bundle of cuteness.

8. Have great and lengthy discussion regarding whether skunks of this age can spray.

9. Decide they cannot.

10. Take many pictures.

11. Send children back inside to finish eating supper.

12. Stare at skunk. Notice his cute feet and beady eyes. Poor little thing has lost his mama.

13. Decide something MUST be done before Rio, Mighty Mouse Hunter and shaker to death of all small living things gets out of house and attacks baby. This on a scale of 1-10 would be a minus 8000.

14. Ignore DH who has decided boat maintenance is more important than relocating baby skunk. He can (and will) be punished later.

15. Return to abode and empty out bucket of slushy Margarita mix (to inexperienced skunk relocators – do not drink before attempting relocation – imbibing in tequila beforehand is for professionals only)

16. Wash bucket. After all, nobody likes a sticky skunk.

17. Take bucket and lid back to baby skunk location—deep in the bush by the birdfeeder where the mosquitoes are plentiful and huge. In such cases, people can also contact experts from pest control maine to get rid off mosquitoes.

18. Get bitten many times by said mozzies.

19. Chase skunk through underbrush, still believing with naivety that babies don’t yet spray.

20. Corner baby skunk and quickly, but gently place bucket over him. Slide lid under baby skunk’s feet and slooooooowly tip bucket.

21. Notice that baby skunks of this age DO spray. So much. So, so very much.

22. Say prayer of thanks and gratitude that it was not a direct hit.

23. Proudly march over to DH’s shop and tell him of your heroic endeavors. Ignore him when he tells you that you STINK. It’s just his way of expressing love.

24. Have DH carry bucket through fields to far away stand of trees, so he can stink too.

25. Release skunk.

26. Take many pictures.

27. Blog about it the next day, promising readers you’ll post pics just as soon as Blogger lets you.

512_1213

Double Entendre

Posted on by

Eight Words with two Meanings:

1. THINGY (thing-ee) n.
Female…… Any part under a car’s hood.
Male….. The strap fastener on a woman’s bra.

2. VULNERABLE (vul-ne-ra-bel) adj.
Female…. Fully opening up one’s self emotionally to another.
Male…. Playing football without a cup.

3. COMMUNICATION (ko-myoo-ni-kay-shon) n.
Female… The open sharing of thoughts and feelings with one’s partner.
Male… Leaving a note before taking off on a fishing trip with the boys.

4. COMMITMENT (ko-mit-ment) n.
Female…. A desire to get married and raise a family.
Male…… Trying not to hit on other women while
out with this one.

5. ENTERTAINMENT (en-ter-tayn-ment) n.
Female…. A good movie, concert, play or book.
Male…… Anything that can be done while drinking beer.

6. FLATULENCE (flach-u-lens) n.
Female…. An embarrassing byproduct of indigestion.
Male…… A source of entertainment, self-expression, male bonding.

7. MAKING LOVE (may-king luv) n.
Female…… The greatest expression of intimacy a couple can achieve.
Male.. Call it whatever you want, just as long as we do it.

8. REMOTE CONTROL (ri-moht kon-trohl) n.
Female…. A device for changing from one TV channel to another.
Male… A device for scanning through all 375 channels every 5 minutes.

Running for my Life

Posted on by

So I was out for my long walk on Monday and I was looking for 17 kilometers and all of it was along the highway because it’s so nice and flat and suitable for race walking. It was going to be good. I could tell.

Going with the highway pretty much guarantees “no bears” so I was feeling pretty cocky even with the vehicles roaring past. They’re only inches from me it seems, but it’s something I’ve gotten used to. At the very least, they give me fodder for morbid thoughts such as “what happens to the body upon impact with a fast moving vehicle?”…”wonder how far it would fly?”…”what bones would be broken?”…”how long would a body lie in a grassy ditch before being discovered?”, etc. etc.

For those of you who have just shuddered and thought “Mon Dieu! She’s insane!”, please be assured that thoughts like mine are quite normal when one creates suspense fiction on a regular basis. The best of the worst is always fair game for a plot and so the little twist that makes a good plot great is a wonderful thing. Believe me, my thought processes are relatively fine and I’m okay. Toni and Loreth do it, too.

Honest.

Okay. So where was I? Ah yes. The highway.

So. Busy highway. Race Walking. La la la la. Minding my own business. Hit my 8.5 km mark, do my turn around and now the wind that was to my front is coming at me from behind. And bringing with it?

Blackflies.

You know? Little black things? Couple of stripes? Soft bodies? Innocuous looking?

There weren’t too many. Just enough to annoy me and make me pull my arms out of their swing every once in awhile to swat.

Gradually though, their numbers increased and now I’m race walking and flailing with consistency. (This is where I ask myself — what did the people in the vehicles think was happening? — I’m sure I looked like I was having some sort of epileptic fit — maybe *that’s* why they didn’t stop?).

SO. Flailing. And now I’m getting worried because I was bit by these things a couple of times last week and had googled for information and discovered that a swarm of black flies can kill a person in less than 2 hours with repeated bites.

KILL.

Yeah. That’s right. Literally, they suck you dry (and there’s that suspense mind coming into play again — good plot twist turned great! NOT!).

I pick up my pace, hoping for a wind change, but I know it’s not coming, because I’m heading into low ground (translation: swampy and black fly paradise). I get there and now more flies have descended and they’ve seemingly sent out word to their cohorts in crime ’cause wouldn’t you know it? Here come the hornets!

Did you know that a hornet likes to repeatedly sting? And that it HURTS? And that anaphylactic shock can set in at anytime in anyone?

This is me now flailing, swatting and running. Screw my knee, I’m thinking, I’m done being dinner. I dig out my cell phone, but it only has one bar of reception. One hand swats, the other holds the cell phone out to the side, up in the air, back to the side, trying in desperation for a good signal.

It doesn’t work. I’m stuck at one bar.

I’ll have to gamble that I can get through and that DH has not gone outside to work in his shop and will answer the phone at home.

I get him. Blab that he needs to come get me. I need help.

He says, “What?” a couple of times like he can’t hear what I’m saying and then my phone cuts out.

At least he knows I’m in trouble. I think.

Still swatting. Still running. My knee is killing me, but I’ve decided that at least it’s that and not the bugs. 10 minutes later our van peels over the top of a hill and DH screeches to a halt in front of me for a dramatic rescue.

My love! My hero! My savior!

I throw myself into the vehicle, panting and sweating and still swatting.

“What’s with you?” he asks. “I couldn’t hear you and you were all garbled. I thought you were being attacked by a bear.” He’s looking at me like I should at least be gushing blood for all his trouble.

I show him my bites, explain the 2 hour time limit to death and he quirks an eyebrow with a modicum of interest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Okay.” He gives me this odd little smile that says, “Freak” (but in the nicest possible way ;) and drives me home.

Ah, but isn’t love grand?

Evaluate and Evolve

Posted on by

The whole idea of goal setting is that somewhere along the road things might not work as well as you’d hoped or planned so you must, as DH would say, adapt and overcome. This is something that applies to every facet of our lives. Staying static accomplishes nothing, especially if things aren’t working in your favor.

Needless to say, I’ve had to revise my marathon goal. About a month ago my right knee started giving me grief. Just a little at first, but it’s gradually worsened to the point where my short runs (10 miles) are painful and as you can guess, not much fun. I won’t even tell you what my long runs do to the old pain threshold.

This is not good. I like my knees and I like them functional and I’m really not big on the whole pain thing either.

However, there is this goal of the marathon. SO, enter my adaptation of the goal to Race Walking it instead of running it.

Race Walking. Yup. You got it.

I’ve discovered it’s quite the sport and I’ve found that I can go, Go, GO! without any pain in my knees. This is me grinning because I’ve also discovered it’s not easy. I must admit that when running I don’t put much effort into my form (perhaps the reason for the injury?), but when race walking, I *must* think to keep my knee straight, *must* think to keep my shoulders down, *must* think to push off with my back foot, because otherwise I tend to look a little like a floppy chicken making its way down the road. When one has proper form, one glides. Much more preferable.

They tell me it gets easier, but so far I’ve found I can’t walk with music because it’s too distracting and my form suffers. I don’t want to have bad form. In fact, I want to have superior form. Judging by the new muscles I’m finding, I’m on my way. Until then, I’ll allow myself the occasion floppy chicken, but the rest of the way, I’m gliding!

Watch me now!

I’m Back…Let’s Have A Drink

Posted on by

WHEN WE GIRLS DRINK TOO MUCH…………

1. WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHERE OUR PURSE IS.

2. WE BELIEVE THAT DANCING WITH OUR ARMS OVERHEAD AND WIGGLING OUR BUTT WHILE YELLING “WOO-HOO!” IS TRULY THE SEXIEST DANCE MOVE AROUND.

3. WE’VE SUDDENLY DECIDED THAT WE WANT TO KICK SOMEONE’S ASS AND HONESTLY BELIEVE WE COULD DO IT TOO.

4. IN OUR LAST TRIP TO PEE, WE REALIZE THAT WE NOW LOOK MORE LIKE A HOMELESS HOOKER THAN THE GODDESS WE WERE JUST FOUR HOURS AGO

5.WE START CRYING AND! TELLING EVERYONE WE SEE THAT WE LOVE THEM SOOOOO MUCH.

6. WE GET EXTREMELY EXCITED AND JUMP UP AND DOWN EVERY TIME A NEW SONG PLAY’S BECAUSE “OH MY GOD! I LOVE THIS SONG!”

7. WE’VE FOUND A DEEPER/SPIRITUAL SIDE TO THE GEEK SITTING NEXT TO US.

8. WE’VE SUDDENLY TAKEN UP SMOKING AND BECOME REALLY GOOD AT IT.

9. WE YELL AT THE BARTENDER, WHO WE BELIEVE CHEATED US BY GIVING US JUST LEMONADE, BUT THAT’S JUST BECAUSE WE CAN NO LONGER TASTE THE GIN.

10. WE THINK WE ARE IN BED, BUT OUR PILLOW FEELS STRANGELY LIKE THE KITCHEN FLOOR (or the mop?)

11. WE FAIL TO NOTICE THAT THE TOILET LID’S DOWN WHEN WE SIT ON IT.

12. WE TAKE OUR SHOES OFF BECAUSE WE BELIEVE IT’S THEIR FAULT THAT WE’RE HAVING PROBLEMS WALKING STRAIGHT.

Marathon Kids

Posted on by

So yes, good things come from being a role model (didn’t Loreth tell me it was so? ;) and now I have 3 little girls who want to run in the Royal Victoria Kids Marathon on the day I run mine! In a nutshell, they do 41 kilometres of running (1 km at a time) before race day and the day of the race they run 1.2 km with all the other kids (and their dad as a chaperone). Wonderful!

So yesterday, my youngest daughter (5) decided her training had begun and that she was running with me. 3 kilometres later (remember she only had to do one) she said, “That’s good for today, Mom” and she veered off and sat on the hay bales, watching as I finished my circuits. What a kid! I won’t mention the other two were still sleeping in their beds. ;)

And here is an interesting article about another marathon child. Amazing. 5 years old and running 65 kilometres in 7 hours!