Change. More Certain than Death and Taxes?

End of era – for me at least.  I will not be renewing my P.O. Box, and I feel as if I’m losing a friend.  Actually, In a way I am.  The people who work there are a friendly helpful crew.  I’ll probably still take them my annual gift of 3-4 tins of cookies as I have for the past 25 years, but alas, it will be the last.

The post office has always been open 24-7 for those of us who have office hours of our own and need access in the wee hours of morning or night.  Now, because of the unwashed who use it as a nighttime squat, leaving their trash and on occasion vomit, the Post Office has announced office hours of its own and the rest of the day the doors will be locked. 

I’m not sure how those who have jobs outside the home will make it work.  Fortunately I work from home and it doesn’t affect me except in principle.  I loved stopping by and picking up my mail after an evening out or on my early morning walkabout (rain, shine, or snow), but they won’t unlock the doors now til 7:30, and I’m home from my walk way before that. Worse still they'll close early on Saturday and totally close on Sunday.

I’ve had a post office box on Southside since 1990.  It’s always been staffed by a terrific bunch of people that I’ve enjoyed doing business with.  It’s up for renewal and at $33 for six months, it’s a bargain for the security they’ve given me over the years. 

My first 2 apartments on Southside, the one on 15th Avenue (10 years) and then the one on 14th Avenue that burned in 2011 (also10 years), had exposed and unsecure mail boxes easily accessible from the street.  The day I moved in on 14th  in 1990, my neighbor came home to find his mail and an empty box of CD’s rifled and strewn across his front steps. 

I immediately went to the Southside Post Office right next to the Golden Temple and got a box, and I’ve used it for 25 years.  My neighbor did, too.  I considered it a business address, but now I wonder if it’s necessary. 

I live in a more secure 4-plex now; the boxes are inside; the mailman climbs the stairs to deliver packages to my door; I only have one magazine subscription that’s print; all my bills, bank and credit card statements, etc., are digital; payments from Amazon and other places that owe me money go thru PayPal or digitally credit my a special credit union account set up for such payments - separate from my house account at another bank.

Sad to say, but my PO Box is no longer necessary. I might of kept it just because it's been part of my routine for so long.  I picked up change of address forms, but opted to do the deed online instead. Later I’ll order new business cards from VistaPrint and probably omit a physical address and opt just for email, as that's pretty much how people contact me these days.

I waited until the last possible pay by moment, November 10, to let the box go.  I stopped by to say goodbye to the crew. 

Up there with the certainty of death and taxes there is change.  Death comes and you're no longer here to know it on this plane; taxes are a constant and expected, but change, oh change. Of the three, I think change is the more difficult.

Runabout Saturday

Forget walkabout, today was all runabout. 

PepperPlace Farmers market (goat cheese and Kale); Western Market (last 2marked down pkgs of drumsticks); corner of 11th n 19th on Southside/ checked PO Box (bills, party invites -  no checks - sigh), scored a cozy mystery i series I'm reading, Rachel Rays new cookbook and 2 mini snickers from trick or treat bowl, returned one overdue book and paid  fine across street at library, picked up mint at Golden Temple on other corner to go w parsley n mint from my potted garden for tonight's tabouli salad to go w leftover kibbee dinner(courtesy of mom); Kangaroo and CVS for weekend's cheap beer n wine. 

Whe Then home to cozy corner of couch with balcony door open behind me and new fleece throw and Jazzmine  across my lap against the chill. I will sip and read and pat cat until time to put dinner in oven w side of tabouli. 

Tonight @ midnight 01  I'll begin my 2015 nanowrimo novel. Later y'all. 

Can You Write a Novel in 30 Days?

It’s that time again – National Novel Writing Month. Every year thousands of the aspiring sign up for the challenge - write a novel of at least 50,000 words in the 30 days of November.

Begun in 1999:

“The very first NaNoWriMo took place in July 1999, in the San Francisco Bay Area. That first year there were 21 of us, and our July noveling binge had little to do with any ambitions we might have harbored on the literary front. Nor did it reflect any hopes we had about tapping more fully into our creative selves. No, we wanted to write novels for the same dumb reasons twenty-somethings start bands. Because we wanted to make noise. Because we didn’t have anything better to do. And because we thought that, as novelists, we would have an easier time getting dates than we did as non-novelists.” -Chris Baty - NanoWriMo.org

In 2014, over 350,000 signed up for NanoWriMo.  I’ve been doing it since 2004, and although I’ve written the requisite words, I’ve never pursued the arduous task of editing a final marketable draft.  I had the excuse of a full-time job and life, but as I retired from Dilbertville early in 2013 I could not use that excuse that year or last. 

Now, it’s 2015 and I’ve signed up yet again.  I’m still painting, but I’m determined to get my daily word count in before I pick up a brush.  I may have to do what I did the first time – leave the house and write at a coffee shop, the corner bar and anywhere that’s not my studio.  The library is far too quiet for me.  I need noise.  Noise makes me focus harder on what I’m doing. 

The hardest part is all the parties and family functions that are strewn throughout the month of November.  I’ll be trying to exceed the daily 1667 words per day so I can bank enough to make up for those days, that just don’t make the mark. 

We had our kick-off for the Birmingham Region last night.  Big shout out and thanks to The Homewood Public Library for hosting us along with weekly write-ins and our Municipal Liaison, Jared “Tycho Brahe" Millet.  Anyone looking for me on Nano, my handle is perlesrose – my close friends will know it’s shorthand for perle(alias)rose.

Oddly Opalescent Opaleye

Day 15 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is O

Oddly Opalescent Opaleye

opalescent eyes

reflect fresh blood stains upon

nature’s own buffet

© Perle Champion

So many of today’s myths were once legend, and I wonder if they have a basis in some ancient past.  I wonder if real dragons once roamed the earth.  Did the story of dragons begin with the sighting of dinosaurs? Did the story get passed down through oral history through the generations?  We’ll never know for sure, but I choose to believe that in some way they once shared our earth.

  

The Opaleye is a medium-sized dragon, often weighing 2-3 tonnes. It was iridescent, pearly scales and pupil-less eyes that match, making it widely known as the most beautiful dragon around. It is not incredibly aggressive and produces a scarlet flame. Opaleyes prefer to eat sheep.* http://www.hp-lexicon.org/bestiary/dragons.html

M is for Meridies & Mass Malaise

Day 13 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is M

M is for Meridies & Mass Malaise

meridies hidden

‘neath a cloak of mass malaise

shrouded souls cower

© Perle Champion

J is for Jogum, Joss, and Jolt

Day 11 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is J

J is for Jogum, Joss, Jolt

Shed the Jogum, with Joss or Jolt.

jogum hindered soul

blindly plodding rutted paths

needing joss or jolt

escapes’ only hope

events unknown luck unseen

nature's buds abide

Jogum in Latin means yoke. There are many kinds of yokes not readily

discernable: jobs, marriages, and friendships, to name a few. 

Sometimes the Jogum can be dislodged by a jolt such as betrayal by a trusted friend, the infidelity of a spouse.

A hated job sometimes needs more than a jolt; it takes a little Joss.

© Perle Champion

Glossary:

Jugum - mid 19th century from Latin, literally meaning ‘yoke.’; also a connecting ridge or projection

Jolt - To move or dislodge with a sudden, hard blow; strike heavily or jarringly

Joss – Chinese idol also meaning luck.

I is for Id, the Isle of I.

Day 9 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is II is for Id, the Isle of I. 

Id, unaware struts

thinking it stands all alone

a singular isle

such wrong conceit self

centered thought denies that earth

revolves round the sun

We are islands.  But just as the sea laps the shore, and the isle continues into the

sea, we are all an integral part of each other.  The very air between us is as alive as we are as we move through it – from earth to the farthest reach of space.

Touch a leaf and the stars vibrate.*

© Perle Champion

* “Touch a leaf on the tree and you have made all the stars vibrate with it. You may not be able to see it right now, but things are so deeply related that it impossible .not to touch the stars by touching a leaf. – Lieh Tzu – The Pathless Path

F is for Facile Feigned Façade

Day 6 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is F  

F is for Facile Feigned Façade

facile tears feign need

façade to suit a motive

once seen we pity

Facile tears and feigned need come easily to some - the façade of neediness the only way they garner friends.

In the beginning, the audience is large as they follow along from drama to drama.  They watch and participate vicariously as each living play unfolds.  But the theme and plot begin to repeat again and again.

The steady stream of repetition eventually wears thin; the motives of the face behind the façade become more and more clear.

Slowly the followers’ caring turns to pity; the parade of followers thins then falls away.

© perle champion 4/7/14

C is for Cawing Crows and Crumbs

Day 3 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is C
C is for Cawing Crows and Crumbs

Cawing crows announce
Hard crumbs strewn across the yard
Birdbath’s now bread soup

Mother’s back yard is a sanctuary where all the leavings of the table are tossed out to the enjoyment of every bird, squirrel, and heaven knows what other creatures venture on the periphery of the perpetual feast she provides.

The crows fascinate and annoy.  There is always a lookout, and when the bounty appears, the call goes out.  The flock arrives swiftly and and perches on the high wires and in the trees then descend together.

They don’t like old bread much less that that is gone hard as croutons.  We watch in fascination as one by one they take the large pieces of old bread and dunk them in the birdbath until it a veritable bread soup.

B is Balm, of Banal, Banter

Day 2 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is BB is for Balm, Banal, Banter

The balm of banal banter has it place in our lives. Such conversations serve a purpose because they are safe in settings where opinions on more weighty matters such as politics and religion could verge on anger or violence.

In social settings, such conversations serve to break the ice between strangers at cocktail parties and events; build relationships with the service person at a store you frequent; the bartender at your local bar; the waitress at your favorite restaurant; the maintenance man; landlord, or the yardman.

It cost little to make small talk and smile, and the dividends are huge.

In personal settings, such conversations can ease misunderstanding in tough personal interactions and begin to heal some wounds after a disagreement or falling out with a family member or friend. 

It’s a bridge called civility that allows both people involved, when they meet in public, to be civil and converse without the ‘you’re wrong/no, you’re wrong’ finger pointing.

The Balm of Banal Banter has its place in our lives, costs nothing, and can build bridges and mend fences that no other type of conversation can.

A is for Ancient, Artifacts, Archaeology.

 Day 1 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is A

A is for Ancient, Artifacts. Archeology

“The oldest known set of footprints… are 117,000 years old and thought to be those of a woman and possibly a child…” (New Scientist magazine, 31 January 1998)

I had and still have a fascination with ancient things, lives lived, and languages spoken. Knowing that things pass out of knowledge and leave only traces for us to piece together if we care haunted me as a child. 

As a child I imagined myself to be an archaeologist.  And although I was never encouraged in this dream for an adventurist future, I climbed all over the Sandia Mountains with my friends searching for artifacts.  I collected odd rocks with markings I imagined to be etched by some ancient woman late at night in her cave.  In my mind there was always the woman in the starring role – my dream, my way.

Reading that story in New Scientist Magazine in 1998, awakened that dreaming, storytelling child and I wrote a small story called, Ancient Footsteps which found its way into an anthology.

Ever blocked or been blocked on Facebook? Solution.

Caution!  This is a rant!  Have you ever blocked or been blocked by someone on Facebook?

Trolls - should be blocked.

The trolls that stalk women on-line should be blocked.  I've had more than my fair share lately. My procedure is simple when I get those strange requests. No one should automatically click yes to a friend request without checking them out unless they know the person. When in doubt, do the following:

• Check the picture - No picture – no way.
• Check out their About tab and see what they’re about.
• Note when they joined Facebook. Most of these guys are real new.
• Check their friend list. There are usually very few and almost always women recently acquired.
• Decline and when they try again, and they do – block them immediately and consider reporting.

Friend (or so you thought) - who block you.

There are two people who blocked me after what I thought was a silly difference of opinion.  I know – so junior high - but what can you do.  I was okay with that until I found out that once blocked:

• They can still see me if they choose, but
• I cannot see them – trust me.  I ran an experiment with a friend, so I know it's possible.

Unacceptable.  No hard feelings, but if I can’t see you, I’ll be darned if you will be privy to my posts or comments.  Solutions abound - I love the internet.

Thing is, once someone has blocked you, there is only one way to return the favor. You have to have their exact FaceBook contact and/or FaceBook email which is on their ‘About’ tab under Contact Information. If they have already blocked you, you can’t see that page, so you must use other options to find it.

Option 1

• Type their name along with FaceBook into Google search.  This works for uncommon names.
• Copy the url given before clicking on it to see if it takes you to their page.
• Getting on their page says you have the wrong address.
• Getting a Facebook ‘sorry broken’ message means you have the right address.
• Proceed to the dropdown box under the little padlock (top right), select ‘how to stop people from bothering me’ and paste the address in it. Confirm and you’re done.

Option 2 - if it's really important to you.

• Open a brand new page with another e-mail address and go find them this way (delete this page when done).
• Go to someone’s page you have in common (a real friend or sibling).
• Scroll through all their friends until you find the person in question.
• Go to that person’s About tab on their page and voila.
• Copy their contact info (whichever one has FaceBook as part of their name or email).
• Close this temporary page and log back onto your account.
• Proceed to the dropdown box under the little padlock (top right), select ‘how to stop people from bothering me’ and paste the address in it. Confirm and you’re done.

Success!  No more peek-a-boo.  I know - so Jr. High.  End of Rant/Tutorial.

Question:  Have you had occasion to block another or have you been blocked, and if so, what did you do. I’d like to hear your story.

Do You Name Your Journal?

Dear Kitty was how Anne Frank began her journal  née diary entries.  Our journal is our confidant – giving it a name elevates its status from that of an inanimate object to that of a friend.  A friend with a willing ear that we can tell our most intimate secrets, fears and idle thoughts and know the confidence will be kept.

Naming Things

diarists address

entries by name pleading for

someone’s attention

however abstract

it matters that an ear hears

else trees fall unheard

© Perle Champion

The Cloud Dweller for National Faery Tale Day

I love Faery Tales.  I read them and had them read to me when I was a child, and I had my favorites.  I was not the princess.  I liked the regular girls best before they gained that status. Cinderella and Beauty were the daughters of merchants/storekeepers; Red Riding Hood was a woodcutter’s only child; the heroine of Rumpelstiltskin was a miller’s
daughter – and so on.

When I liked the ending as in Rumpelstiltskin I went with the story.  Of course I was the miller’s daughter who triumphed over the wicked little creature who would steal my child.

Red Riding Hood I revised when I read it to myself.  I was she, but in my version the wolf did not eat me, because I was so tough and so smart. It was I who rescued my grandmother just before my father arrived.

I pondered my propensity to make stories including faery tales suit my ideal – walk on clouds so to speak or 'head in the clouds' as momma put it.  I wrote the below poem in one of those moments when I had fallen through those insubstantial clouds to the reality of a disabled child and a sick husband, and...

The Cloud Dweller

far away

and long ago

there is a child

i used to know

with wide bright eyes

asking why

not out loud

but deep inside

why that way

and not my

way

those clouds those

insubstantial

faery vapors which

upheld us

have given way

to the ground

i wonder if

we shall walk

together

as easily as we

flew 

Cloud Dweller © Perle Champion 11/25/80 

Sixty-Five and Asking - Now What?

I started my cozy on the 14th and wrote 2-3 chapters and then I got sidetracked.  The following week lead up to my 65th birthday of February 23.  I found myself celebrating the whole week with various friends over long breakfasts, lunches, happy hours at favorite places all culminating with a great Sunday afternoon at my friends' Daniel Day Gallery-Dream Mecca Studio.  Daniel Day and Melody Musik truly are a Renaissance couple.

The Gallery is a unique venue of live music (blues); art; sculpture; photography; handcrafted jewelry, clothing, and accessories; vintage clothing; and more than I have space to tell.  Every Sunday afternoon from 2-6 there's a party that overflows in beautiful weather onto the large patio out back.  It's BYOB and a cover charge of $12 covers the food hot from the grill, and pays the band. This Sunday, the sun came out to shine on all of us and the Jeff Jensen Band from Memphis rocked the house.  Melody Musik who plays Clarinet in her band (yes, she's a musician, too) played a Happy Birthday solo just for me.

My week long celebration did include a lot of writing just not on my Cozy.  I've been journaling as if my life depended on it. My journal is the running memoir of my life, and good or bad there is always something to write at any given moment.  I remember reading Alice Koller's 1991 book An Unknown Woman, which is basically her journal during a period of self examination.

I feel I am at that place in my life now.  I've toyed with writing my own 'unknown woman' memoir tentatively titled A Not Yet Famous Woman - A Memoir, or considering the content maybe A Not Yet Infamous Woman - A Memoir.  

Being a Pisces, I am two fish.  One goes with the flow wherever it goes; one fights its way upstream.  I've no doubt that for some years now, I've taken the easy float with the current style of getting by.  But now, I see my mother in her 80's, and know I may have 20 or more years left to me.  It's not enough to go with the flow anymore.  In rereading my old journals and journaling anew I'm exploring that fish that knew when to fight the current - not every day, but when it mattered.

At 65 I'm saying out loud what I've always known. It's not enough to exist.  I've become a woman of a certain age, and I ask myself - Now What?

Writing the Cozy Mystery - Book Review

A few days ago one of my favorite cozy writers, Nancy J. Cohen posted on Facebook that her new book Writing the Cozy Mystery was available in Kindle for all of 99 cents.  I bought it immediately, and I just verified that is still on sale for 99 cents.

I've been reading a lot of different mysteries for some time, that are referred to as Cozy Mysteries or just cozies.  I was reminded about a few interesting characters from my never published post 2012 novel, that I thought would be interesting and fun enough to have a novel of their own instead of being in a sidekick role (excerpt below). I wondered:

1.     Could I write a Cozy?

2.     Is it hard work?

3.     Is there some kind of formula?

The answers are yes, yes and yes. The book does not disappoint. I feel as if I've been gifted with a precise step by step road map to writing a good first draft.  I'm actually cutting and pasting some sections into a word document to give me direction in outlining my first ever foray into Cozy writing.

NOTE: To cut and paste, you'll need Kindle for PC (it's free).

Some information in the book will be just a refresher for most writers, but I found the lists and hints helpful to have in front of me, so I could answer the questions for each character.  It's important to know your characters as intimately as you know good friends: their likes and dislikes, environment, job, dreams, fears, friends, past. Most of this won't go into the book, but informs the actions, reactions, and interactions of your characters making them come alive for the reader.

Cohen uses a 3 ring notebook and a storyboard. 

1.  On the notebook she says:

“The Plotting Notebook is another means by which you can keep track of all the elements. You’ll need a notebook for each separate title with colored tab dividers.”

2.  On the Storyboard she says:

"For a quick visual reference, I use a Storyboard or plotting chart. Divide a large white poster board into twenty blocks, or however many chapters will appear in your novel. Then write down all the story incidents or plot points that come to mind on sticky notes. Put these around the board in some sort of order. This gives you a general guideline for writing the synopsis.

There is a software that is similar to her block system, but I'd rather work with a notebook, poster board and post-its as she suggests. That way it's in front of me while I write.

I’ll be blogging about the experience from time to time as I write my new book.

There's a link to the Cohen's book below. It is still 99 cents at Amazon.  I'm signing off for now to work on my cozy and I'll keep you posted.  

Character study:

Character Back Story – Detective James Jeffries

Tomorrow was graduation.

He remembered how his Mother worried; he could tell the way she paced when she thought he wasn't watching.  She’d yell at Dad when he talked about it too. "No, absolutely not.  It isn't bad enough I worry if you’ll come back every day when you leave for work, you want me to worry about my only son, too.  He should be a lawyer or a doctor or a writer.  Lord knows he has enough imagination to be a writer.  His school counselor said so."

James hated it when they argued.  He'd just turn the volume up on one his dad’s old viewer as he watched Sam Cade, Detective for Hire for the hundredth time.  He’d pretend he was Sam Cade - super detective.  “Yes, some day.  Well, Sam Cade started in law enforcement, and then went private.  And all the women fall for him and the regular law enforcers envy him.  Yea, that's what I'll do.  First, I'll follow Dad’s path, but I won't settle for just that; no sir, not me.  I'll get all the training I can get from the pros and then I'll do what Sam Cade did.  James Harden, private detective.  Well, maybe I can change my name.  James seems so, so ordinary.”

He remembered when he and his Dad used to talk long into the night on their weekly hike up into the mountains.  He told James his fears and his aspirations, "I know that no matter what happens I've lived a good life.  Boy, that's all that's truly important.  Whatever you do in life, do it because you really want to, and do it really well.  If you marry, marry for love and because of things and in spite of things.  Your mom's a good woman and when she met me, I was in law enforcement and she hated it.  But I loved her in spite of that and she me too.  Do you understand?  I mean, you can talk yourself out of a lot of things just because you're afraid.  Don't let fear ever stand in the way of doing what you love and loving people who may not love all the things you do.”

James wished he had written it all down, now.  But sometimes, he lay back on a dark night on the side of a trail and let his mind drift back to those times and he could hear the distant voice echoed in his ear.  "Follow your dreams, boy.  Only a fool is never afraid, and only a coward lets fear stand in the way of what's right for him."

James thought.  Thanks Dad, I’ll make you proud.  I’m doing it Dad.  I’ll be the youngest detective ever on the force.

Do you love winter Southern Style?

Jasmine is irritated with me, but not for the first time since this cold snap began.  If the temperature was at least above freezing, I’d have opened her kitty door to the screened in balcony that is her outdoors.  But, it is not.  The temperature this morning on my balcony was 7 degrees and I don’t want to know the wind chill, as I did not plastic in the balcony this year as I did in years past.  My office window at right had enough frost on the inside to require an ice scraper.

Even at 35 degrees, when I let Jazmine out she comes right back in and stares at me as only a cat can.  The odd ‘meorrow’ seems to ask accusingly, “What have you done to the weather?”  She might venture out once or twice more before walking haughtily down the hall to lie on the leopard electric throw at the foot of my bed.

I keep that electric throw set on low at the foot of my bed from the day the temperature first hits 40 just for her.  

She knows she can count on that spot for warmth sunshine or no sunshine to warm herself day or night.  Handy for her, since I rarely run the central heat.

I truly hate to run the gas central heat.  It sucks the freshness from the very air, and in my opinion, most of the breathable oxygen.  It dries my skin and my hair.  More importantly, it dries my sinuses leaving me susceptible to any arbitrary bug, as it did last week after several visits to over-heated homes for dinner parties, etc. 

I have to turn the central heat on occasionally to warm the bathroom for a shower, but it’s off again right now as I sit at my desk writing this Blog.  I have  a small ceramic heater whirring away at me feet at the moment, and I’ll move it next to the couch when I move in there to watch NCIS later.  

I go to bed around midnight and I slip my feet under Jazmine's throw just long enough to take the chill off and allow the down comforter to return my heat to me.  Jasmine curls up on top of it for most of the night.  The throw will stay on for Jazmine until we have several consecutive days at 70.

By Thursday or Friday the temperature will be in the 40's and 50's, and I’ll open her kitty door again.  I love winter southern style – it comes and goes and seldom lingers more than a day or two.  

Have you jumped on the 'OneWord' BandWagon?

I jumped on the ‘One Word’ bandwagon thinking it would be easier than making a list of New Year’s Resolutions.  Well, it is not.  Choosing the word was a piece of cake; but living it remains to be seen.

My One Word is ‘Create’.  I’m an artist and a writer and a photographer, so it seemed a logical choice, until I realized that those things are not all I create.

By my every action, deed and word I create my home, my life, my opinions, my relationships, my health and so much more.  I create these things based on the actions I take, the friendships I make a myriad of things I’ve not identified yet.

Therein lies the difficult part – where to begin.  I’ll be pondering and/or meditating on that over the weekend.  What is the ideal life I want to create and what are the steps to the top of that stair.

More later.

Did you choose “One Word” for 2014?

Watching the Today Show on January 1, I was fascinated to find an author, Jon Gordon, touting an alternative to the New Year’s resolutions that I, along with many others, annually make and rarely keep.

Although you can buy his book at Amazon (I haven’t yet, but might later), he explained his ‘one word’ premise – I’ve inserted a link to a free copy of a worksheet (not the book) that will help you choose your one word and get on with your new year.  He also encourages us to make our own “One Word” poster.

I chose CREATE as my one word for 2014. 

Definition:Bring something into existence, produce, generate, make, fabricate, fashion, build, construct, establish, initiate, launch, develop…

I like this new approach to a new year more than making a lengthy resolutions.  Rather than resurrecting that old list of Must Dos and Must Don’ts, that hasn't changed much in many years, I chose one word, an active verb, that encourages me to Create the life I want in 2014.  The possibilities are endless.

Although Gordon encourages us to make our poster from his website's free downloadable templates, I made my own using using PowerPoint and a sunrise photo I took a few years back that I am particularly fond of.

It will be in the center of the 2014 Vision Board I’m working on this week.

The Book:

Do you celebrate solstice?

Winter Solstice is my time to contemplate the past; celebrate my successes; glean a few lessons from my failures; and set a few goals, née, resolutions, for the year ahead.  Darkest night behind me, Sunday morning I brewed a pot of tea instead ofcoffee; I set some sage to smoldering beside the candles on the altar and lit one candle in every room around my home; I open a new journal to page 1; and begin to plan for the coming year. 

This year’s solstice, at least in part, was spent at various parties amidst friends.  By day, I began an early spring cleaning/rearranging of my studio/office (aka my aerie).  By night I enjoyed the festive mingling and conversations with friends; listening to live music, over-indulging in good food and wine. 

Still, however late I arrived home on Friday and Saturday evenings, I lit the candles that I had set out before leaving the house and recited my annual evocation, née petition, née spell, for prophetic dreams of the path that lies ahead of me for the coming year.

I am one with the uni verse – See me.

Let me slip easily into the stream of time – Hear me.

Let me acknowledge my past, and accept my now – Help me.

Let me see in dream a little of my path ahead – Grant me.

That given time to contemplate, I may make better choices – Guide me.

As I give myself up to the ‘I am’ and slip into dream. Protect me.

So mote it be.