The virtual mailbox

I worked on a newsletter today and I am about ready to go put my feet up.

Years ago, when I was doing newsletters for some organizations I belonged to (and still belong to some) I did them in Adobe PageMaker and then printed them out and mailed them. I felt a great sense of accomplishment when I finally learned how to set up a data base and print out the address labels.

Later on, I learned to design the newsletter in Word and then I could attach it to an email and send it out into the ether where it miraculously ended up in people's mailboxes. The ones on their computer, of course, not the one at the end of their driveway. This was after more people got computers and email accounts. For awhile I was emailing some and snail mailing the rest. By now, though, most people have email.

But then people upgraded on got different versions of Word or didn't have Word at all but some other word processing program. Not everyone could open the newsletter, so I learned to convert it to a .pdf and send it that way.

Recently, a suggestion was made that I send the newsletter via Mail Chimp. This program allows you to select a template and fill the blanks with your articles and pictures and then send it, not as an attachment, but in the body of the newsletter. Everyone can get it and they don't have to open or download a file.

Simple.

Except I forget from one month to the next how to do it. Today I thought I was finished three times and three times my work got all messed up or disappeared completely.Then I remembered, duh, how I did last month's. I'm going to write it down so I don't forget next month.

Old dogs can learn new tricks, it just takes us longer.

I can't wait to see what the next new big thing is. I suppose I will have to learn to send the darn thing by mental telepathy.

What I do when I should be writing

I love Facebook. I know some people hate it, but when there is nothing on TV, I like to scroll down and watch informational videos.

I mean, if I didn't look at Facebook I would never have known the marshmallow farmers in North Carolina are in trouble because of all this rain:

But I mostly like cat photos. There are lots and lots of cat photos and videos. I like the one where the chubby cats try to squeeze themselves into tiny boxes.

Yes, I'm easily amused.

My youngest son's cats, Moe and Odie, have their own Facebook page. He takes photos of his two cats and they are adorable.

Now, I happen to own the mother of one of those cats, so I have a proprietary interest. So I have been attempting to take a picture of her doing something cute and photogenic.

The trouble is, what she does best is sleep beneath our bed. It's a little hard to get a good shot and the best I've gotten is two scary eyes glowing from under the box springs.

There are two morals to this story:

I am not ever going to be famous on Facebook for my cute cat videos.

I am wasting too much time on Facebook.

Have a great week!

New Year's Resolutions...nah.

It's that time again. Christmas is over, the cookies eaten, The gifts and decorations put away, and the tree taken to the recyle center (if real) or back in its box (if artificial).

We had a wonderful time in St. Simons, Georgia, with family. The grandkids are all teenagers now, so there was no need to entertain them or drag them places. We got to do what we like best, which is to settle back with a good book and nibble. The entire length of the shelf in the kitchen was laden with cookies, candy, cake, and snacks of every kind. 

So after all the indulging, I suppose the next sentence should be "In 2015 I resolve to stick to my diet..."

Not so. In fact, although I enjoyed the goodies, a long walk on the beach whenever the sun shone (which was rare) took care of the extra calories. I came home weighing the same as I did when I left. And since I hit my doctor's recommended weight some time ago and have managed to keep it off, the only diet I'm looking at is eating smarter, not less. and I don't need a resolution for that.

I could resolve to write more, but honestly, I'm writing as fast as I can. I wrote seven pages yesterday, which doesn't seem like much except I had to stop every other sentence to look something up. Even fantasy needs research if it is to sound at all probable.

So what I do resolve is to treat people a little more kindly, to love my family a little more deeply, and to follow God's plan for me wherever it may lead.

Happy New Year!

  

Christmas - who won?

We watched a show last night about people vying to win a prize for the most outstanding Christmas decorations in their house and yard. To say I was flabbergasted is putting it mildly. Two million lights? Hundreds of Disney cutouts? Eight acres of lights and scenes?

Some people take Christmas much too seriously. Even though they say it's "fun" it looked to me like months of hard work just to make their neighbors smile.

Or snarl, if you'd like to sleep at night and can't what with the flashing colored lights and Christmas carols blared out over a loudspeaker.

Another sign of overload is people going into debt for their foreseeable future by buying 52-inch televisions and the latest electronic game players for their kids.

Is this what Christmas has come to? Each year has to be bigger, better, and more expensive?

I challenge you to remember the best Christmas gift you ever received as a child. Maybe something stands out, like a new bike or your own radio (assuming you were a child before cell phones and computers).

I can't remember what was under the tree, but I remember the fun we had decorating it. I remember making paper chains with red and green construction paper and paste made of flour and water. And the year we tried to string popcorn using needle and thread and ending up eating most of it.

I remember coming home from school to the warm aroma of cinnamon and ginger and brown sugar, and seeing the cookies laid on a clean towel, waiting to be iced and sprinkled with colored sugar.

I remember leaving church on Christmas Eve and the stars overhead illuminating the snow that crunched under our feet. Diamonds above and below, a better light show than any electric or LED bulbs.

When did celebrating Christmas become a contest?

When did we forget the simplicity of the first Christmas and its setting? No colored lights there, just the rays of a single star.

Topsy-turvy

What happened?

The weather was perfect with clear Carolina blue skies and balmy temperatures. The trees displayed a palette of red, gold, orange, and yellow.

Then I woke up to dull gray skies and wet, muddy ground covered with damp and soggy leaves. And it is cold! I had to dig out my winter coat.

It can't be winter yet! Winter doesn't officially start until December 21.

But weather doesn't follow a calendar. I have to remember that for half the world, December heralds the lovely days of Spring -- that is, if you identify Spring by warm breezes and flowers popping out of the ground. Which they are, in Australia and South Africa and South America.

I can accept that winter is approaching in my part of the world, because that means holidays, namely Thanksgiving and Christmas. Of course, they celebrate those holidays in the southern hemisphere, too. But I can't imagine saying, "Oh, the forsythia is in bloom -- Thanksgiving must be just around the corner!"

Thanksgiving has to be celebrated on a day when you can see your breath when you step outside, not robins.

And what is Christmas without snow? Not that we get many white Christmases in the South, but there is always that tantalizing hope that this year will see the flakes spiraling down on Christmas Eve.

So I'm not complaining. The old Earth is going to turn and as it does, the seasons will come and go, and the bright blue skies will return. The thing is to enjoy each season while you are in it.

Even if it's raining and cold.

Because then you get to wear your new sweater and drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace.

And you can't do that in July.

A Question of ... getting to work!

I spent most of yesterday on the computer and didn't write a single word.

Yep. and I wasn't looking at Facebook either. I was doing routine maintenance on websites, newsletters, correspondence, uploading a video to Youtube, and you name it. Funny how we can get bogged down in details.

I need to start writing because -- I need to. If that makes sense to anyone but another writer.

And, I need to start the third book in my Boundaries trilogy. Yes, the third. I'm happy to report that the second book, "A Question  of Loyalty," was accepted by Astraea Press. Thank you, Stephanie Taylor, publisher!

This time, Nathan and Caroline honeymoon in the newly accessible country of Floriana. Floriana is composed of Florida, the lower sections of Georgia, Mississippi, Alabama, and Louisiana.

The honeymoon starts off with an attempted assassination, and the two gamely try to figure out why and by whom they are targeted.

For those who insist Thomas Jefferson would never have accepted the crown and become king of the United States, all shall be revealed in book three: A Question of --- Something.

So I'd better get going. Even though this series is a fantasy, I do need to do some research. Sigh.

How one thing leads to another

We've all heard the story about the woman who bought new decorator pillows for her sofa and ended up with a new furniture suite, new curtains, new carpet and freshly painted walls.

One thing does lead to another, as I've discovered. Saturday, I decided to clean the den. If you haven't seen my den, let me explain that it was intended to be a two-car garage but the builder decided mid-way to convert it to add more living space. It is a big room, big enough to hold both living room and dining room furniture and leave space to swing the cat. (Not that we do, I hasten to add.)

Anyway, I was washing all the cut glass bowls and knick-knacks I have sitting around on bookcases and the wall-length chest my Dad made when we moved here. It was originally planned to hold the kids' toys, but now that they have moved out, it holds our Christmas and other seasonal stuff.

After washing everything submersible, and dusting every surface, I looked at the windows and thought to myself that they could use a little cleaning. So I took down the curtains and threw them in the washing machine and tackled the windows. In between spraying glass cleaner and wiping the panes dry, I hung the curtains on the line. With the sun and breeze, they dried quickly. And wrinkly.

I finished the windows and swept the floor. My last chore was to iron the curtains and rehang them.

That's when the fun started. The bracket that held the topmost curtain rod had pulled loose and didn't want to go back.

I called Jim, and he concluded that the nail holes were too big and he needed to replace the nails with screws.

He needed a ladder. I had used the little kitchen step stool, and was just able to reach high enough to sort of fling the rod and hope it would slip into place, but he needed a little more height to aim his screwdriver.

So I trudged outside to fetch the eight-foot stepladder we keep under the deck. I didn't want to drag it up the deck stairs and through the kitchen, so I carried it around the house and in through the front door. In case you are wondering, Jim has a balance problem and should not be carrying stepladders around, so that is why the job fell to me.

I know, he shouldn't be climbing ladders either, but he got a little tetchy when I mentioned this. A wise woman  knows when to zipper the lip.

He got the bracket firmly secured and as insurance, redid the lower one as well.

While he was doing that, I got out the spray bottle again and washed the glass on a picture hanging by the window. If I hadn't been standing there watching Jim work, I wouldn't have realized how dirty it had gotten.

When he was finished, I rehung the curtains, took the ladder back outside, then came back inside and swept the floor again because -- did I mention we keep the ladder outside? -- because it dripped clumps of mud all over my clean floor.

So we have a clean room and everything is sparkly and the sun shines brightly through the spotless windows.

And since I have cleaned the den, maybe I ought to clean the living room next...