Time for a Tooth Fairy Visit**

MY SON IS ECSTATIC!!! He lost his first tooth today, a lower front one. Never even flinched. He has grinned all day and stuck his tongue in the hole a thousand times. When asked what he wanted for supper he answered, "Steak. Because we're celebrating." And then he paused and said, "And it will make the others loose." LOL. In his estimation a first tooth is worth about $30,000 dollars. I laughed and told him that you can't rich off the tooth fairy. I secretly wonder what the going rate is. After all, the first one sets the precedent.

I realize there are parents out there who don't believe you should raise your children with fantasies such as Santa, Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. Personally, I don't have a problem with that if that's your opinion. But we've decided that our household needs a little light-hearted fun. And when the time is right, maturity and the Truth will win out. Right now I want him to love fairytales and nursery rhymes and traditions. I want him to look back with fondness at the sweet memories his mommy and daddy have made for him. I'm not trying to deceive him; I'm just trying to keep him little a little bit longer. And goodness knows, with all the evil and abuse in the world, a little innocent loving fun is in order. Besides, the Tooth Fairy is thrilled to oblige. She is so happy that something joyous is taking place in the midst of all the sorrow.

Another Request

My neice's husband got a call at 2:30 this morning. His father passed away. I don't know the circumstances, but they will need your prayers as they head out for Wisconsin. We are not going due to circumstances on my side. This is my husband's neice's father-in-law, if you can follow all that. We've got a lot going on. Pray for comfort and traveling mercies. That's a long way from Tennessee to have to go in such an emotional state.

To Be Found Faithful

The novel is cooling off as I tend to life and it's non-fictional harsh realities. As I commented to a blogging friend, it would be easy to go frollicking off into my fictional setting right now. But I'd be willing to bet that my character would come out dark and maudlin, and maybe a little bitter as the character fades into Cindy's own personal traits. Yes, I tend to retreat when I grieve. I admit, I tend to get a bitter edge. In my heart of hearts I know that God is in control. I know that His will is being performed in our lives. I know that my Granny is in the Hands of a competent and loving Father. And yet, I'm still human guys. I still wonder why she has to suffer. I know some of you are probably saying, not another post about dying and Granny. Well, it's what's on my heart. I won't apologize. It's a part of life.

Some day I will share with you all about her life. I may even write a book. She has kept ten year's of journals. This lady has faced trial after trial. She has suffered heartache and the tragic loss of children (plural). She has faced cancer, emphysema, diabetes, and COPD. There is not much in this world that surprises her. When my mom died, she asked my cousin, Tim, "Son, why are you crying? She's with the Lord now." Her life has been the endless mantra, "Not my will, Lord, but Thine."
This little spiritual giant reads the Bible through once or twice each year. We listened to James Earl Jones read 15 chapters of Matthew during my stay Friday night. This little lady with the 8th grade education works the Sunday crossword with ease. I wish I had her vocabulary. This lady has crocheted since January 1, 15 paris of houseshoes for this Christmas. Every year she makes them for the ladies and children, and men if they like. The week before she went into the hospital she was putting up squash. The day she went to the hospital she had cooked salmon and bisuit. Not frozen biscuits, mind you. She has a little stool on rollers that she rolls on around her kitchen. The week before she went to the hospital we had visited her, and we found her down at the lobby working a jigsaw puzzle with her neighbors. She has a scooter that she would drive down to the commons area. The phrase, "Whatsoever your hand findeth to do, do with all your might," comes to mind. There's no telling how many missionaries worldwide are sleeping under a quilt that this lady and her sisters quilted. There's no telling how many people are wearing a garment stitched with her hands. There are no telling how many souls in heaven because of her prayers. No, she never achieved fortune and fame. Ninety-nine percent of the world has never heard of Marie McCoy. But I guarantee you, her name is recorded in heaven. I guarantee you that when you get there, she will be there. If she doesn't make it, none of us will.

When I was a child and things got bad at home, I would go spend the night with my Granny. One time our plumbing was out, and I told my parents I would not be home until the plumbing was fixed. I thought I was too good to use a five-gallon bucket. Laugh. I have since, but I was a cocky teenager. I think now about how my Granny must have used an outhouse and chamberpot growing up. (Not to mention the Sears catalog--and not for reading material either.) We would go to bed at night in that big king-size bed. And before either of us went to sleep she would pray aloud. Not long flowery Thee's and Thous, but something along the lines of , "Lord, I thank you for another day. And Lord, I thank you for my family. Watch over them. And Lord, if there's anything in my heart that's not right, or if I've displeased you in any way today, forgive me Lord." I remember lying in bed and listening to her sweet voice. Friday night was the same. I was on the couch; she was in her recliner. Her wavering voice much softer. But still the same. "Lord I wanna be found faithful. Lord I just want You to have your will. Help the kids."
I cannot here tell you all that she means to me. The world is losing a treasure. And no, I'm not putting her above Christ. It is through Him that she is all that she is. I know that there was a time when my mom and her brothers were young that my Granny wasn't saved. That she might have regrets about some years. But she has nothing to fear and everything to gain. All that was washed clean in the blood many years back. I hope when my time comes that people can look back at my life and see Christ. It's something to think about. If you have loved ones that you are at odds with, people make things right. Make them right. Life is too short.

Trying out the new title. Your links will still work, so you don't have to change them unless you want to. Under His Wings may be temporary. Not much new to report. Things are maybe a tad worse. It's the waiting that's hard. Appreciate your checking in and praying. I haven't blogged in a few days. I was down there over the weekend, and I came home and crashed last night. My nerves are raw, as all of us are getting exhausted. We are staying in twos now round the clock. If I'm not here, you know that I'm out of town. I checked a few blogs last night but was way too tired to comment or post. My sinuses are giving me fits too. I know that this is not the most uplifting blog to read these days, so I understand if you don't stay long or comment. It's hard to even know what to say, I realize. God's grace is sufficient to see us through this. Hugs to all.

To Live is Christ--To Die is Gain

I suppose it's my family's situation that has me preoccupied with Heaven these days. Every time I think of my Granny leaving, I have to remind myself of the celebration that awaits her. I can't begrudge her those long -awaited rewards. I smile, myself, when I think of the fact that she will get to see Mom again, and soon. And even though I feel sorry for myself, I think, Wow, Granny will finally get to see Jesus. All those questions about life will be answered for her. She'll know what it sounds like when the angels cry, "Holy, Holy, Holy." She will be whole again. Her hands won't be gnarled from arthritis, and her legs won't be crippled. She might even be so happy that she takes off doing the Charleston. I know I would be. There won't be any diabetes, emphysema, or COPD. There won't be sorrow or pain. I wonder if she even remembers what it's like to have a day completely without pain. And even with all her physical problems, that woman can work circles around me. I'm sure her labors have not gone unnoticed in the annals of Heaven. There will be recorded there acts that none of us even know about. I imagine her looking around her new home in awe. I imagine her throwing her crown at her Savior's feet.
And yes, I can almost hear Him say, "Well done, Marie. Well done."

Update

Rough several days. They are sending Granny home with hospice tomorrow. Doctor says everything is just worn out. My heart aches to see her in this condition. She says she is in no pain, but she definitely is struggling to breathe. She has slept sitting on the side of the bed with her head on a pillow on her meal tray since she arrive.d This is the only way she can breathe. Her kidneys are shutting down. She's tired. We've all had our talks with her. She is ready to go. Keep us in your prayers this week. I know that she has a grand Homecoming awaiting her. I know that joy awaits her on the other side. But my Granny has been my rock since my mother died, and I admit, I'm teetering on the edge of hysteria. I know my family is private, and they may not appreciate my posting here. I'm sorry family. These are my friends. I trust them to pray. I trust them to understand. We need their prayers. *Sad***But trusting God**

To my Husband:

For 7 of the 10 years we've been married, you have been a wonderful daddy to our son. You have spent time with him doing kid things like t-ball coaching, Chuck E. Cheese, theme parks, museums, and vacations. You have made sure he has had food on the table and clothes on his back and an arsenal of army men to keep him entertained. He has been to places other kids have never heard of, knows about stocks and mutual funds, knows the words to a hundred gospel songs, and has developed a tender heart to give and share with others. He has learned to be friendly and helpful. He has learned to pray. Evidently you're always right --because he's always on your side; I don't have a chance in an argument. I hope that when we're old and gray he still feels the very same way about you. Chase loves you so much. And for all these reasons and more, I love you. I don't ever want to destroy that child's faith in you. I'm sorry if the stress of this past year has caused me to be not so pleasant. I'm sorry if it has caused me to be not so patient with you. As the days go by, he is beginning to look more and more like his handsome daddy. He will be a heartbreaker, that's for sure. You done good, honey. Happy Father's Day.
Love,
B.C.

"My help cometh from the Lord..."

Request

Please pray for my 84-year-old Granny. She was admitted to the hospital with her congestive heart failure. She has been sleepi ng in her recliner, because she can't breathe. She needs a touch from God. She is a precious saint, and I can't bear to see her suffering. I am typing from my cousin Tim's. (He's recovering nicely from his surgery, but he won't start a blog. Shame, shame.) I'm going back up there shortly to spend the night, but I'll be back around tomorrow night. Visited my Granddaddy in the nursing home and took him a Father's Day card and snacks; he's doing well. Will keep you posted. Get the prayer ring going. Goodnight.

Friendship, Fidelity, Faithfulness

In earlier blogging days, I explained my choice of title for this blog. Sometimes I think that maybe it's a bit long and cumbersome and hard to find. I was thinking of changing it. But then I decided to do a search on it and found that lots of you have linked to it already. And so I did another search on the symbolism of the ivy. And this is what I came up with: According to one website, ivy symbolizes memory, immortality, friendship, fidelity, faithfulness, undying affection, and eternal life. If any of you have ever tried to kill or remove Ivy from your garden, you know the tenacity with which it struggles to survive. You know that it clings to whatever it is growing with. Ivy is also used as a symbol on ancient gravestones to represent immortality.

According to this site:
Because it thrives in the shade, ivy represents debauchery, carousing, merrymaking, sensuality, the flourishing of hidden desires, and the enjoyment of secret or forbidden pleasures. Some even believed this plant to have demonic associations. Dionysus (a.k.a. Bacchus) the Greco-Roman god of wine, satyrs, and Sileni are often wreathed in ivy. Crowns of ivy were believed to prevent intoxication and thought to aid inspirational thinking. Therefore, the Greeks crowned their poets with wreaths of this plant. Although generally considered poisonous, the ivy's black berries were used to treat plague.

Hm. "Flourishing hidden desires?" "Forbidden pleasures." How can the symbolism be so dichotomous? Perhaps it is like everything else that God created for good. The world got a hold of it and turned it into something crude and evil. Whoever came up with that second explanation did not stop to consider that the shade the ivy thrives in is the shadow of the Almighty. And as long as you stay put where you were planted and cling to your committment to Him, you will break the yoke of bondage and sin in your life. And those hidden desires for forbidden pleasures become hidden under the blood of Christ.

Some hate ivy because it damages the walls or houses it climbs. Consider that maybe it was not meant to climb walls. Walls were introduced into its natural habitat. But trees... when Ivy climbs trees, it becomes a part of them. The ivy uses the tree for support, but it is not meant to be allowed to grow to the point that it overshadows the tree and kills it. Together they grow toward God. This site says: As long as it stay on the trunk of the tree it will not damage the tree. If it gets into the crown and the foliage it will kill the foliage and cause growth loss and could cause death. We need to learn our place under God. And I will go as far to say our place under our husband, to keep our marriages alive and thriving. That's a biggie for me, trying to stay where I'm supposed to stay and not tell God and my husband what I think they're supposed to be doing. Which poses a new question: Should my blog really be titled, "Under His Wings?" I'll have to roll that around in my brain a bit more.

New Project

Update: I'm around Page 100 of the rewrite. Taking it slow, eyeballing every word, phrase, and line. It's a good thing too, because when I combined all the chapters into one file, an entire chapter was missing. Missing! I couldn't find it on my hard drive anywhere, but luckily I did have it on a CD. I couldn't even remember all the details; I just knew that critical information was being talked about in Chapter 9 that I didn't remember editing in Chapter 8. Sure enough, Chapter 8 was gone. Don't ask me how that happened. I have no idea. Just glad I found it. Two hundred more pages of editing and proofing, and maybe I'll let you have a read-through, sis. Right now it's still rough. And I really must start on that proposal and synopsis I've been putting off. To me, that will be the least fun part. But necessary. Diane, I know you surf and visit a lot more blogs than I do. I need you to find out who the best Christian authors use as a reputable agent. I know you can do this. You just seem to be well-connected in the internet realm. Let me know what you find out. I've done some research, but even at staying up till all hours, I don't have enough time to do all I need. Magnolia, maybe you have an idea as well, though I know you do Romance fiction. Anybody else out there that has had a good experience with an agency, I welcome your opinion.

I have about 1200 words done on THE DUST OF ROSE HILL. That would be about 1000 words of the first chapter, and 200 words of the final paragraph of the book. Sometimes the titles and endings are the easiest to get--at least for me. My initial outline is a bit bare bones, but maybe I should leave it that way and let my imagination wander around a bit more than with the first one. I'm in a bit of a quandry about content again. I don't want this book to be dark, but the subject matter is heavy. I'm going to have to find a way around that, I suppose. And yes, Diane, I've decided to delve into the not-so-magical world of the alcoholic, the gritty details of mental illness, and the common cause for sin--temptation. Will I be able to find a brighter side or even some humor to this fictional cast? You know I love the challenge, girl.

They've slowed down on sending me work, which is not a good thing. But I sent my resume to several more transcription companies online, and one has responded. I'm hoping that will work out. If anybody knows any reliable companies I can send my resume to, feel free to share. March St. Ives I miss your blog and having you around to talk shop with. Hope you're still lurking somewhere.

Thank you to all my regular readers, both faithful and occasional. I'm reading your blogs as well. A lot of times I read without commenting, but you all are so fantastic. I noticed on JL's blog that he had his pic taken with Jack Canfield, you know, the Chicken Soup guy. Must be nice to get out and about, rub elbows with the elite.

I guess I'll go to bed now. Even though it's not quite midnight. Took the boy to Vandy for a checkup on his tubes. He's doing great. Doc says she might dismiss him in December. I'm tired and rambling as I do when I get sleepy. Goodnight friends.

Vacation Hot Spot

When you come to Tennessee, make sure you've put back a little extra money for at least one night's stay in Nashville's Gaylord Opryland Hotel. I can guarantee you that it will be one of the most extraordinary hotel experiences you've ever had. Where else can you stay where there are lush indoor exotic gardens with live music, shops, restaurants, a waterfall and an indoor boat ride all under one roof? If you're looking for romance, you won't be disappointed.

And if that isn't enough, the impressive Opry Mills Mall is right next door, an amazing banquet for retail gluttons. You know who you are. Your kids will love the Build-A-Bear Workshop and the Rainforest Cafe. (Once again, someone please tell me how to get that diacritical mark in place in blogger.) Daddy will love the Bass Pro Shop, and trust me, Mom and the kids will too. I spent two hours in there looking at everything, and I'm not an fishing enthusiast. For Mom, there's Liz Claiborne and The Apple Barn, where you can watch fresh apple turnovers being made from scratch. For music lovers there's the Alabama Grill and the Gibson Showcase. And if you just want to take in a movie because your feet hurt, there's the Regal Imax.

Get on a complimentary shuttle to go riverside for a lovely riverboat cruise on the Cumberland River via the 300-foot, 4-deck, General Jackson Showboat. Enjoy floating the beautiful Cumberland River while taking in a show and dinner. After that, you can hop over to the Nashville Palace and two-step the night away. You might even get a glimpse of a few stars while you're there.

A Daunting Task

1:30 a.m. **Turning into quite the night owl.

I'm up late working on the rewrite. I devoured this month's copies of The Writer and Writer's Digest, and I must admit, I have my work cut out for me. (Cliches are my downfall.) I feel my plot is good. I even think I've managed to draw believable characters. My writing is not up to par though --not to my standards and certainly not up to publishing standards. Cindy, you didn't expect it to be perfect right off the bat did you? I mean, honestly, did you think you could make it three hundred pages without one cliche. I can't figure out how to make that diacritical mark over the e in blogger. It is a diacritical mark, isn't it. At this hour I start second-guessing everything. I downloaded a cliche-checker, and I tell ya guys, my manuscript is rougher than a cob. LOL. Phrases I dash off with ease pop up in the checker--phrases like "as a matter of fact,""out of the woodwork," and "in over his head." Others aren't so obvious, like "caught off guard," and "in good hands." I never realized we ran them in the ground the way we do. But I should have known that The Writer would be right on target. I guess my back's against the wall. Guilty as charged. Well, to make a long story short, it goes without saying that it's easier said than done. My writing's green as grass. And I wonder, after all has been said and done, will it cut the mustard? If you take out all the cliches, I wonder if there will be anything left?
Time will tell.

Is TV Turning Your Kid into a Sloth?

My son, the aspiring writer/politician/bodyguard/paleontologist/whatever it is this week came to me this morning wanting breakfast. "Mom I'm hungry." And then he draped his little body over the overstuffed arm of the couch I was sitting on and came out with this:

"I'm a sloth dying on a branch." My son used a metaphor! What an image.

Now if that isn't a convincing argument, I don't know what is. "A sloth...dying on a branch?"
I supressed a giggle.

"Son, where did you learn about sloths?"

"Animal planet. They have three toes."

And for once, I can't complain about the horrible programming they're putting out. Hat's off to Animal Planet!

Dawn's Early Light

I made it to bed around 4, to sleep around 5 as the first rays of morning were streaming through my window. I found it to be such a peaceful time of day that I might even start writing at that hour. Luckily, hubby's appointment for today isn't until this evening. When I awoke about an hour ago, he was on the computer, and the boy was watching Full House and eating popcorn. So much for healthy breakfast. That was some coffee.

My only regret is now the day is half over already, and I will be tempted to stay up late tonight to feel as though I've had a full day. I don't have any typing to do today -- at least not yet. And I'm trying my best to leave the manuscript alone for a few days so that I can be objective. So I've got a load of clothes in the wash and a load of dishes in the dishwasher. CWG and the Boy are going to get out in the yard and do a little puttering. I imagine I'll just get right out there with them. I noticed this morning I have daylillies blooming. I saw some pretty amazing flowers over at bluesbayou. If you want to be inspired to garden, go see her. Her flowers are amazing.

Isaiah 61:1
The Lord has chosen and sent me to tell the oppressed the good news, to heal the brokenhearted, and to announce freedom for prisoners and captives.

Coffee Anyone?

It's 2 a.m. and not insomnia this time. This time I had a transcription project they are paying me extra to get done before 10 a.m. in the morning. And rather than get up early, I chose to struggle through it tonight (with the aid of strong coffee) and sleep late in the morning. (Unless they send more.) I'm still praising the Lord for work. And CWG started his new sales career today selling pools and spas. And he made a sale today at that! So we definitely have things to be thankful for. Needless to say my smile has returned. Finishing the first draft was just icing on the cake!

Please put my cousin Tim on your prayer list. He had surgery today (um, now yesterday) and made it through just. Just pray for complete and easy recovery. Tim reads me faithfully and is one of my biggest fans. I just wish he would comment more. Or maybe start his own blog...hint, hint. He has a wonderful sense of humor that I think we all could appreciate. I would quote some of the things he said coming out of anesthesia, but they would make you blush. I believe it was something to the effect that if they didn't give him his underwear back, all of the nurses from the 9th floor on down would be swarming his room. But you didn't hear that from me. Okay, okay. It's late. Someone slap me. I'm going to get killed for that one. Too funny. Um. Yeah. This is a family blog...Enough said. Nite y'all.

Reality Check

Okay guys. From everything I've been reading, what we have here is a novella, a short novel. Unless I market it as Young Adult, I fear it will not be accepted as a full length novel. What to do, what to do. I wring my hands. I can either expand upon it to the tune of about 30,000 more words, ( a thought that does not thrill me) or I can try to find an agent or publisher to fit what I have.

While mulling it over today, I managed to get ideas for a few more scenes, mostly involving backstory. I did not include a terrible lot of that in my first draft, because frankly, I don't enjoy reading a lot of filler myself. It has to be something so connected to the main plot that it has purpose. I don't want readers leaving my book thinking, "Well, why didn't she just say so." On the other hand, I wouldn't want someone to pick up my thin volume off the book store shelf and think, "No way am I going to pay that for this little volume. I could finish that in a couple of hours." I would know exactly how they feel. What has taken me months to put together will be consumed in a couple hours. Have I given the reader enough to gnaw on, and not only gnaw on, but digest? That is the question.

So it's decision time. It's to the point where I am seeing the printed page in my sleep, but when I awake I could not tell you one word that I saw in my dream. I've read that your novel needs to cure a bit before you pick it back up and start the rewrite. But every time I think of something I want to fix, I rush to the computer to fix it. Right now, the draft I have saved on disk barely resembles the chapters I have, but at least if the computer crashes I'll have a framework to start with. I can't lose it all at this stage. That would break my heart I think.

I wonder if an author ever really lets their babies go. Do they, even after the book is in print, ever want to fix just one more thing? Oh to have that problem. Well, enough of that. What are you all into tonight?

Say Goodnight Gracie

Today I got to type the words, "THE END." I must admit I have mixed emotions. It's like leaving a long time friend. However, all of you writers know that this is just the tip of the iceberg. Now comes the hard part, the editing, rewriting, pitching, promoting, publishing, and selling. I've got a long row to hoe. Hubby can't wait to print it out and read it in its entirety. I still have to name the chapters and find the scripture tags I want for them. It landed at 55, 870 words, but still could become more or less in the rewrite. I'm just happy I have a story. Now I need a book!

I read the ending to hubby, and he cried. But he's not a good indicator as soft-hearted as he is. It did produce the desired effect, for which I am thankful. And it seemed to make sense to him to end it the way I did. Aren't you just dying to find out? Aren't you just dying to read it? I know I am, and I've lived with it these past six months. LOL. And the best part? I've got two pages written on the next one, which may or may not be a sequel. I haven't decided yet. Yes, I have the bug.

Well, I have to go. I've got a million things running through my mind. Hubby says even if he has to stand on the street corner and peddle them, he's going to see that it makes it to print. We'll see. Later guys. And thanks for spurring me on. Lisa, if you see Porch, tell him all I needed was that swift kick in the pants from him. (See my New Year's Resolution post.)

Tagged again!

Accent: None, I'm from Tennessee. Y'all come.

Best personality trait: I'm right nice when I want to be.
Chore I hate: Dusting
Dad's name: Carl
Essential make-up/skin care products: Soap and water.
Favorite perfume/cologne: Mambo
Gold or silver?: Gold.
Hometown: Humboldt, TN
Interesting fact: Met my husband on a blind date arranged by a matchmaker.
Job title: Legal Transcriptionist, Novelist, Mother.
Kids: One son.
Living arrangements: 3 br, 2 1/2 bath subdivision.
Mom's birthplace: TN
Number of apples eaten in the last week: 0.
Overnight hospital stays: 2
Phobia: Snakes.
Question you ask yourself a lot: Am I doing this right?
Religion: Christian
Siblings: 2 sisters.
Time I wake up: Whenever the kid pounces.
Unnatural hair color: Whatever strikes me this week
Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: hominy.
Worst habit: Overeating.
X-rays?: Too many to remember.
Yummy food I make: I used to make biscuits from scratch til I discovered Pilsbury frozen.
Zodiac sign: Scorpio
*** Diane, Lisa, Mikey, Magnolia, Jade, and Morninglory...you're all tagged!

Wrestling with Destiny

I didn't make my self-imposed deadline. I anticipate the first draft being completed by Monday at the latest, though. I've already started going back through the first chapters, trying to see if they mesh with my ideas for the ending. The second guessing and doubting have started to seep into my consciousness. Do I have what it takes to pull off a good story? Am I spinning my wheels? And then, that self-important devil on my shoulder says, "How many people do you know that have even attempted a project of that length? You should be so proud of yourself!"
And yes I am, I reply. I am proud of myself for sticking with it, for realizing a dream, one of my own dreams for a change. And then I bring out the whip to flog myself. Who do you think you are? You're just a frumpy old housewife from a little hole in the road. What do you have to say that hasn't been said a thousand times in a thousand ways? Shut up, I argue. You're not going to make me feel bad for doing this. It made me happy. Very happy. I will not apologize for my happiness. I will not apologize for my eccentricities. I will not apologize for gloating. Yes! Yes, I did it...well, you're not finished yet, he says. But I will. I will. It is finished just as sure as I am sitting here. Just you wait and see.