Can Doing Nothing Be Called Research

Golden rain of leaves

aerie, eyrie, perch 
leaves float on unseen breezes 
I sit pen in hand 

wanting to capture
it all on the page but words
cannot hold the wind
                    © Perle Champion

William Wordsworth wrote, “Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher”.

So one could call my gazing hours on end out the window or off the balcony of my aerie watching the seasons change before my eyes as research.  

And, one could call my walking down sidewalks kicking leaves as hands on experience to commit to the page at a later date. 

 

Are You Ready to Write Your Novel?

It's almost that time again. National Novel Writing Month is a mere 16 days away.  

The gauntlet has been thrown down, and I've picked it up again. Every year the good folks at NaNoWriMo invite novelists and wannabe novelists all over the world to write that novel they've been ‘gonna write some day'.

Not only do they challenge you to write the novel, but write it now or at least 50,000 words of it within the 30 days of November.  I've never had a problem with writing the 50,000 word first draft - Whether any of them qualify as a 'Novel' is another question entirely.  I have a few in a drawer somewhere that I edited from time to time.  The best of the lot was my 2012 novel written in early 2001 or 02, which I procrastinated into obsolescence. Yep I was still editing and rewriting when 2012 didn't happen

Ever the optimist, I'm taking a few of my characters from that 2012 novel and my Murder

is a Primary Color novel from last year and involving them in a mystery.  I’m bringing a lot of the backstory forward as it informs the characters. 

I’ve got a working title (Witch on a Witch Hunt); designed a quick cover on PowerPoint; and I’m clipping pix from magazines for my storyboard for different characters, rooms, locations, etc.  I need pictures in my storyline. 

A shout out to Nathan Bransford's for Blog post on the One Sentence, One Paragraph... Pitch.  I managed to construct one of my own and here it is.

Here is my one-liner: A real bewitched teams up with a Sam Spade wannabe to solve a series of anomalous murders in the year 2025.

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.

Day 10 New project started late last night NaNo/NaBlo

Day 10 of NaNoWriMo- New project started late last night - 10,050 / NaBloPoMo (10 for  10).

As I posted yesterday, I just lost all momentum followed by interest on the Wadenhoe novel, so I just stopped and decided to go with a sequel to an old Nano Novel from a few years back whose
characters still live in a far corner of my mind.

Tentative Title:  Murder is a Primary Color.  I've been writing on it most of last night and then again today to get back to the 10,050 words I had already written on Wadenhoe. I'll have to do 3500 words a day to get back on schedule by this coming Friday then I can go back to a mere 1668.

I'm beat.  I'm looking forward to pouring a glass of Cabernet and tuning in PBS Masterpiece @ 8 to watch Paradise followed by a rerun of season 2 episode of Downton Abbey.

Dessert will be a second glass of wine and as many chapters of current new book, an ARC of 'Hild' by Nicola Griffith which is due out Tuesday.   Set in 7th century Britain, the style is much like that of Mists of Avalon and I am so loving it.  I'll post the Amazon link to it below. 

Meanwhile, here's new NaNo excerpt: 
Scene: Breakfast bar in Jades sunny kitchen

..."Hmmm? Oh - yes, Mira. I've been called in by my friend in law enforcement. You remember the Lt. Jeffries I worked with several months ago?"

"Yes Miss, it's the murders on the news. Isn't it?"

Jade's white forehead furrowed and she gazed from beneath black brows. Mira was momentarily frightened and Jadeah sensing her fear, relaxed her face and smiled. "I should view the news more often, you apparently know more than I. Yes, I suppose it would have been on the news. But please, no questions. I must plan my day. When the bell rings, it will be Lt Jeffries. Please let him in."

Sabrina was suddenly on the red leather stool next to Jade, carefully preening her paw with special attention to her claws. Their eyes and minds met and Sabrina queried, “We have work?”

“Yes, will you help?”

“Of course. I might be an "old woman", but I am quite able.”

“Point taken old girl. We wait for our ride; be alert.”

Mira watched in awe from the stove as she poured the steaming chocolate almond milk into a large blue mug of equally steaming black cayenne-laced coffee. She knew her mistress talked to this feline, and she was sure the feline understood and talked back.

Mira's grandmother had explained to her about curanderas and their familiars and told her to treat the cat as well as her mistress and speak to her as to a human and with respect. This cat was not like her little Sabato at home, not at all. This one looked at you when you talked. Mira only hoped it could not read minds, too.

The doorbell interrupted her thoughts, and she put the coffee on the bar in front of Jade and left the kitchen to let in the Lt. She touched the keypad and stood with her mouth a little open. She had forgotten how fair was this gentle giant. All blond longish hair, clear amber eyes and legs that went on forever. "My mistress waits in the kitchen, sir."

James strode down the hall and Mira did not catch up with him until he was seated at the kitchen bar on the other side of Brie - and now there were three.
Here's the link to Hild.

Day 8 – No Words Written – NaNo/NaBlo

Day 8 of NaNoWriMo Wordcount Still 10,050/ NaBloPoMo (8 for  8).

They (not sure who they are) say it takes 30 days to build a good habit and 3 days to break it.  Well I didn’t make the 30 of building, so it only took 1 to break it.  The day out with Mom yesterday took the edge off my urgency to write.

Althouth I’ve journaled, written emails and made lists of agents to send the children’s picture book to, I’ve written nothing to speak of on my NaNo Novel. 

It’s going to be a long weekend of catch up.  I plan to go to 2 NaNo write-ins. One at Riverchase Panera tomorrow morning and another at Beans, Books, and Candles at 2pm.  Taking the spiral notebook which I usually write in and the laptop – if I can’t do one, I’ll do the other. I'm  3000 behind.

My ToDo list is not working today.  I’ve added an item in all caps in red – STOP PROCRASTINATING!!!!!

I'm Ready for NaNoWriMo

It's all Hallow's e'en; my altar's candle is lit; the aroma of incense mixes oddly with aroma of dinner in the oven and wafts through the apartment and out to the warm Fall evening air.

There's a moonless night beyond my aerie's window, and I've written the title of my Book on page one of my notebook. That's all I'm allowed to write before midnight by the rules for my NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writering Month).  

Yes, I write all my first drafts stream-of-consciousness by hand on a 5x8 black spiral notebook (the same kind I journal on). I have refills ready for my favorite gold PC pen.  Each notebook can hold roughly 28,000 words, so two should be sufficient (I have 4). 

I may actually begin writing tonight at midnight:01, then again I may begin early tomorrow after my 5 a.m. walk. 

I usually write early when the muse is fresh.  I transcribe later in the day into msword. I find this process adds an extra hundred words or so to my daily word count and effortlessly produces a better second draft.

For now, the kitchen timer is telling me my dinner is ready. I'll pour a glass of Cabernet and eat my dinner as I watch a rerun of Downton Abbey to get in an English mood for my NaNo Novel based in England.

More tomorrow as I'm also doing the odd spin off called NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) and I'll be posting a Blog a day.  Yep, glutton for punishment here.  

Night y'all.

NaNoWriMo - Can I Write a Novel in 30 days?

November is National Novel Writing Month, and this year I'm determined not only to finish, which I always do, but to follow through to publication.  I've been participating in NaNoWriMo and writing my 50,000 plus words every year since 2004, but most of what I've written languishes variously in dark drawers or an old back up file or most recently my skydrive.

So here goes. Novel Title:   The Yanks of Wadenhoe House
Begin:

---We arrived late by cab.  I felt like we were in a scary movie.  This huge castle loomed in the night and the fog rolled along the ground all around us as we got out of the cab.  Daddy, ever the practical joker, pointed at the carving above the entrance and said, “That is the ghost of Wadenhoe.”  Mother told him to cut it out, but I had to pee too bad to be scared.

A maid opened the door and welcomed us; showed us to our flat (English for apartment); told us what time breakfast was served in the kitchen and left. 

There were some white bread sandwiches on the coffee table.  They were butter with cucumber and butter with ham; cut into fours with the crusts neatly trimmed away; and neatly stacked on a beautiful old plate. 

We devoured them all, and Mom put us too bed.  I could hardly sleep, and when she left the room, I crept to the window to look out.  As I look back, I know now why I liked that shot in the first Harry Potter film so much. The one where he sits looking out the frosted window of his new home high in the castle.

The next morning I was ready to go before anyone and waiting impatiently at the door.  We went down the rickety stairs to the better stairs and found our way to the kitchen, where the maids were scurrying around the long table delivering breakfast to our house mates.

At that time Wadenhoe House was managed by Mrs. Boothroyd (Mrs. B) and with two exceptions, all the rooms and suites were let out to Air Force families.  The exceptions were a two men, one from Scotland, one from Poland. They were always referred to as Scot and the Pole – I never knew their names.  The Scot, when in his cups, would change into kilts and serenade the whole house with his bagpipes whether they liked it or not. The Pole was quiet and always had a book in his hand.

Mrs. B introduced us around the table, and asked how we liked our eggs.  I watched as the cook cracked these huge eggs into a bowl, added milk and beat them with a fork.  She put them into the large iron pan on the old wood stove that occupied half the wall at then end of the kitchen. 

Later when Mom found out they were goose eggs, she never ate them again...

Writing to the Rain

Writing and watching the rain just outside my window.  Looking forward to doing this full time early 2013.  Can't wait until every is spent here in my aerie being creative.  Retiring from the day job by March 30.

All kinds of good things happening.  The art is coming along, photography projects shaping up.  But my first love, writing is finally taking shape.  It's a new world out there now that books have gone digital, and self-published is no longer a dirty word. 

A year of posting poetry on my Blog has given me a poetry book.  Years of journaling and getting journal entries published has helped with my journaling e-book.  They both need a bit more polishing before I launch next them next week.  Then there are the 2 novels I wrote during NaNoWriMo.

I would never have gotten this far with out help from the gentleman who created what he calls the Ultimate EBook Creator.

If not for the free trial, I would never have tried it.  I've bought a lot of such things only to be disappointed at how complicated they are, but I bought the whole thing before my 7-day free trial was over.  I only post links of things I like and use.  When I review a book I like, I post its link to Amazon.  Well I like Nitin's software and I'm posting a link here.  Thing is, you can try it for free and say no thanks or, like me, say oh yeah an buy it.  This guy is very service oriented, too.  He has answered every email with complete answers and free tutorials to to other useful tools.


Ultimate EBook Creator

What is your journal to you?

My journal, my little 5x8 spiral notebook goes most everywhere with me.  From my nightstand, to the kitchen bar where I sip coffee, to breakfast whether home or at a restaurant, tucked near at hand in my purse throughout the day, and returned to the nightstand at day's end.  It is my friend, confidant, psychoanalyst.  I firmly believe I owe my sanity to committing my day good or bad to the page. 

Natalie Goldberg said, "Take out another notebook, pick up another pen, and just write, just write, just write. In the middle of the world, make one positive step. In the centre of chaos, make one definitive act. Just write. Say yes, stay alive, be awake. Just write. Just write. Just write."

I agree.  Last year with so much loss, it took my pain and grief.  These days when death stalks a sweet friend, and we can only watch and wait, it helps to put pen to page and voice the feelings there that cannot be voiced aloud. 

It also helps to end the day by listing at least 5 things I’m grateful for that day as well, whether that thing is as simple as birdsong, sunrise or a gentle rain.  Gratitude soothes the soul.  Yes, Natalie, I’ll keep taking out another notebook and I will write, write, just write.

© Perle Champion

Are all smokers so hyper-sensitive, or is it guilt?

One of my downstairs neighbor’s visiting sister? is a smoker. Like many smokers, she thinks nothing of flicking her butts anywhere and everywhere.

That everywhere happens to be the yard all of us in this 4-plex share. I stopped one day and asked, “I don’t want to offend you, but could you not toss the cigarette butts in the yard. It’s such an eyesore in our pretty yard.

She complied for awhile, but slowly but surely there they were again. I picked them up for awhile; however, yesterday I tossed one up on her porch. Her sister, Jackie, came banging on my door this morning to inform me, “You are rude; you are not our landlord, and you cannot tell us what to do. My sister can throw her butts wherever she wants…”

She was dressed for church, and I’m sure was off to worship, thinking that’s all it takes to be a ‘good Christian’. Do they take their scripture to heart?

You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' 

But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Matthew 5:43)

Jesus was summing up all the law in these two statements. If a person loves the God with all their heart, soul and mind, loving their neighbor is the natural result.

I wonder about folks like that. Do they go to church and pray just to be seen praying? Do they ever walk their talk, or is it just talk.

And, why can’t we all be good neighbors instead of having to ‘call the landlord’, as I am now forced to do come Monday morning.

I have too much stuff

It's time to pretend I'm moving soon, because I really do have too much stuff.  Ten years in this my aerie (top left of a 4-plex), and I look around and realize that I've reacquired new stuff to replace the old stuff I got rid of when I last moved.


The only really minimalist room I have is my bedroom: Bed, 2 nightstands, 2 lamp, dresser and trunk.  Well, there is a vanity in there, but it's for sale.  I'm not the kind of girly girl that sits at a vanity to do her make-up.  It is mostly a dust catcher and occasional cat perch.

And no, there is no TV in my bedroom - never has been and never will be.  The bedroom is for sex, sleep, and bit of reading before lights out. But the rest - OMG.  My book shelves alone, have overflowed to the floor, coffee table, and boxes in the closet.  

I have four closets and a storeroom and they are all full of stuff. I'll have to pace myself, or I'll be overwhelmed and stall out before I begin, and begin I must.

First: The clothes closet is full of clothes I haven't worn in over a year and suits for a life I don't have anymore.  Second will be the books.  I'll keep the favorites - the ones I read and re-read, and I'll keep the necessities - the ones I refer to for my writing.  

Baby steps. I'll decide what's next when those two get done.  I have an art rotation closet (I'm keeping that one).  It's hard to part with art, my own or that of others.


What brought this on? Well this morning while browsing Facebook, I ran across a page called Minimalist Journey, and followed the link to Mark Savage's Blog, and then I started looking around at all 'my stuff'.  

I may not get rid of as much stuff as Mark Savage plans to, but I know the good feeling I get whenever I've downsized in anticipation of a move.  It's been ten years since the last time.  

I have no plans to move in the physical sense, but lightening the load of stuff, will make this place feel like new again. 

Rant: Politician's Dumb Methods to Get the Vote

Just voted in the primary this morning, and I so wish it were the actual election, so all those wanna-be's would cease and desist leaving long rambling recorded messages on my voice mail. 

What fool thinks that an impersonal canned message left on my phone will cause me to suddenly say, 'Oh, wow, I'm voting for him'.  In your dreams, bubba!  

Frankly, I note those that annoy me the most with repetitive calls, and I deliberately don't vote for them. The annoyance factor of having to wade through and delete all these messages to get to those that matter to me does not endear them to me, it alienates me.  Don't they know they are actually one step below a canned telemarketer.


Further, what fool thinks they can change my mind at the doorsteps of the polls with a printed flyer.  When I go to vote, I have reviewed the candidates, and I know who I'm going to vote for.  Anyone arriving at the polls undecided that can be swayed by these flyer toting mosquitoes has no business voting.  

As I arrived at Ramsay to vote this morning, I was relieved to see none of the campaign workers down on the street, with a handful of flyers they try to shove at you, only to find as I climbed the ramp that they had moved closer to the door.  Worse than panhandlers in my book.  I put up my hand to save them some steps, and use my 'if looks cold kill look' to stop them in their tracks and go about my business of voting.

If this rant gets to any politician out there, listen up.  Stop it! The more people you annoy, the less people will vote for you.   There really out to be a DO NOT CALL list for politicians.

Between the Covers: Mind Candy

Some people call it reading trash. I call it mind candy. I read enough self-help, and health and my fair share of serious books.  But I cannot long survive the likes of McCarthy's "The Road", ... without a little respite.

I don't eat dessert every day, but when I want it, I want it.  Being laid off over a year ago,  probably adds to the reason I like to dive into the fun mysteries and adventures of unlikely protagonists.  


I'm just finishing the sixth book in Ellen Byerrum's Crimes of Fashion series, 'Armed and Glamorous', and I'm loathe for it to end as there is no seventh book.  They are totally 'chick lit cozies' if there is such a category - as fun to read as Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series. There are the obligatory hunky guys, and of course a crime that no one but our heroine can solve.

If you're looking for a little entertainment, I recommend these.  Now if Evanovich's 'Sizzlin' Sixteen' would just arrive on the library hold shelf with my name on it, I'll be set for another 2 nights of mind candy but it's not due til mid June. 


Oh well, I can wait - I just got an e-mail that I have 4 books on that library hold shelf: 'Write It Down, Make it Happen', 'Dance of the Dissident Daughter', 'Mennonite in a little Black Dress, a memoir...' and for dessert 'The Mapping of Love & Death, a Maisie Dobbs Novel.

Do Dah Days

The things I do for a bone.

The weather was amazing for the Do Dah Days festivities touted as celebrating "31 YEARS OF COOL CATS & HOT DOGS..."this past Saturday.  It's one of Birmingham, Alabama's many free to attend events.

I found a shady spot on the center island on Highland Avenue at 27th, after parking somewhat illegally*, sipped cold beer, chatted with fellow shade-seekers and shot picture after picture.  I so love my digital Kodak camera - no more wasted film.

The festival started small "when in 1979, a group of friends got together and decided to have a party — or so the story goes — and Do Dah Day was born. The following years saw the party grow into an event raising money for local charities such as the Birmingham Zoo, Avondale Library and the Alabama Theatre. With so many Do Dah Day volunteers being pet owners and animal lovers, it was a natural progression for the fundraising focus to turn to local animal charities. Soon Do Dah Day was no longer a party — it had become an all-out festival."

Polly want a bite

There were more than dogs. I saw birds, cats and a Boa (the live kind).

Strange thing about dogs, they usually bark at anything, but they seemed to know that this day is different.  This day, they're just one of many and territories overlap.  I didn't see a single snarly growler or  aggressive barker.  

Caldwell Park

The park was sunny, but if you got in the shade, it was quite comfortable and there is an abundance of shady trees in and around the park.

Can we go home now?

75 Cents for the first 7 miles - what year was that?

Mardi Gras Renegade

O La - A little late for Cinco de Mayo

Waiting for the next act.

Giddy Up

How much further to Kansas?

Do Dah Day is Birmingham’s oldest event and has evolved into a music festival.  When it began, the crowd numbered a few hundred.  Today, an estimated 40,000 people from all over the United States converge on Birmingham’s Historic Highland Parks for a day of fun, food and music with their pets. Raising more than $536,000 since 1992 for Jefferson County animal shelters, Do Dah Day is one of the city’s most cherished springtime events..

If you've never been, put it on your calendar for next year.  Here's their link. http://www.dodahday.org/

*Parking is a challenge, but unless you block traffic or another vehicle, the Birmingham police appear to declare amnesty on ticketing - Bless the all.

Happy Cinco de Mayo, Y'all

We Americans will celebrate almost anything.  I sometimes celebrate Tuesday, because, well, sometimes surviving Monday is quite an accomplishment. 

Being a nation of immigrants, gives us a lot of celebrations to choose from.  We even invent things to celebrate: national this day, national that day, etc.

In March we celebrated St. Patrick's Day nationwide.  I'm not sure how many Irish were in Birmingham's downtown parade that day.  The guys in kilts were followed by what looked like refugees from a Star Trek convention (I'm a Trekkie, but I don't get it). 
There was also a group of electric cars with shamrocks plastered all over them - they continued their celebration at Dreamland BBQ on the corner from my home.

The thing is, I love it all.  We can celebrate whatever we want wherever we want pretty much any way we want.  That freedom alone is cause for celebration - yea, we'll do that on July 4th.

Cinco de Mayo is not Mexico's Independence Day.  That was declared on September 16, 1810, and hard won on September 27, 1821.  It actually commemorates  the Mexican army's victory over invading French forces in the Battle of Puebla in 1862.  They won that day over a force twice their size that had gone undefeated for 50 years.  Although France eventually occupied the the Mexican capital, it left 3 years later under pressure from the U.S.  

Mexico's independence from Spain and then from from France's occupation were all steps that lead to Texas Independence and eventually becoming the 28th state of these United States.  For that, I am eternally grateful.

So, happy Cinco de Mayo y'all.  I'll be out lifting a few Mexican beers with friends, as we make the rounds of several Southside bistros: Dave's, The Mill, Jim 'n' Nicks, and pick maybe stop on the corner to up some ribs for late night snacking.

I've been around the world, but 'There's no place like home'.

And We Did Not Divided Fall

Robert E Lee Surrendered today in 1865, and we remained One Nation, Indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for All...

'Under God' was not added to our Pledge of Allegiance until 1954 by Congress after a campaign by the Knights of Columbus to do so. In 1924, 'my flag' was changed to 'the Flag of the United States of America'. With these two edits, the Pledge we recite today is the one written by Francis Bellamy in August of 1892.

Liberty and Justice for All did not include women or people of color until much later, and not without considerable trials and tribulations. This isn't a history lesson, but if we look at the history of the various movements for equal rights in this country, and look at how far we've come, it is amazing.

Is it perfect? No, but it is fluid not static. There are endless possibilities, and we as a nation are still growing up, evolving, becoming...

We are still a beacon for many of the peoples of the world. Consider that our Constitution is the world's longest surviving written charter of government. That document begins "We the People...". We need to end the civil war of divisiveness of our respective political parties.  If we are to continue grow as a nation, we need to  embrace that "We" as it is all of you and me.

Civil wars, whether fought with deadly weapons or ranting rhetoric, have divided nations, destroyed them, and sadly become a way of life for others. We had our Civil War and Robert E Lee knew when it was time to come to the table, when to fight on was not the right thing to do.

I think it's time for red and blue to move toward purple, because divided we will fall.

(c) Perle Champion

Better Than A New Book, Three New Books

I love to read. That's no surprise to anyone who knows me. I read fiction serious and frivolous; biographies & memoirs; science fiction & science fact, fantasy; anthropology  & archaeology, new age & self-help and more.  I read magazines from Witch to Bitch to Cosmo; Vogue, & Elle; to Cooking Light, Tea and Mary Jane's Farm and on and on.

I read too fast, so I particularly love coming to an author that already has several books out in a series. I check out three at a time at the library while ordering the next three, so I don't have to wait for the next adventure.  Unfortunately, sooner or later I get to the end of book 10 (Laurie King's Mary Russel series); 15 (Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series) or 18 (Elizabeth Peter's Amelia Peabody Egyptian series).

There are others, but these three authors each have a new book in their series coming out this month and next, and I have ordered each one delivered to my Southside library.

The 10th Mary Russell book,  The Language of Bees, left me hanging, which Laurie King's  previous books did not.  I hate 'to be continued' in any form, but alas, I was hooked. I should have the 11th book,  The God of the Hive, by the 27th.

Sizzlin' Sixteen, the sixteenth (duh) in Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series, will be out in June.  If you want to laugh out loud - read these from start to finish. I've re-read them on occasion just to for the laughs.

And the good news is: I just picked up Elizabeth Peters' 19th book in her Amelia Peabody series, A River in the Sky, from the library. As I'm writing this late Wednesday for post Thursday morning, I've probably finished the book, but I'll be re-reading it at my leisure over the next few days.

I've got to go to the Package Store (that's liquor store for those who don't live in Alabama) and get a bottle smooth whiskey and some of club soda before I tune out the world and climb between the covers of this long anticipated new book.

The whiskey? It's an Amelia Peabody ritual - 
See related post. Toast to Amelia Peabody & Elizabeth Peters



(c) Perle Champion

World Health Day

Today is World Health Day, and there are many parts of the world where diseases long conquered in the US and other nations of the West, run rampant.  Poverty, ignorance and political agenda figure heavily in the situations that needlessly claim so many lives.

We in the West are not immune to health issues, but in this land of plenty, the diseases are different.  They don't stem from lack, but from the very abundance of our culture.  Gluttony may be last on the list of  the Christian's deadly sins, but it is perhaps the most deadly of all.

The largest growing industry in this country appears to be health care, and all its accoutrements.

As Americans of every age and socioeconomic strata consume more food and drink than their bodies can handle, obesity is inevitable, and with obesity comes illnesses such as diabetes, arthrosclerosis, high blood pressure, etc.  It is indicated in cancer, skin problems, digestive issues, joint replacements and more.

Being morbidly obese is now considered 'a disability'.  By that reasoning, shouldn't we add alcoholics to the disabled.  Is there really a difference from one addiction to the next that we arbitrarily draw the line. Each is over-consuming to their detriment.

It takes a considerable effort to maintain a healthy body when even the producers of our food stack the odds against us.  They add sugar and/or high fructose corn syrup to the unlikeliest of foods.  Frozen fruit juices don't need more sugar; they are already sweet. I don't want sugar in my canned or pickled beets, or my tomatoes or my mayonnaise.

I used to buy Dukes mayo, because it was the only one I could find using real ingredients and containing no sweeteners.  It was just as good if not better than the big sweetened brands.  But alas, Dukes has gone from glass containers to plastic, and I eliminate as much plastic from my life as I can.  I'm making my own mayo now à la Maratha Stewart. It only takes a few minutes and keeps 2 weeks.


This has been mostly a rant, but on this World Health Day, we need to take a good look at what and how much we consume and the consequences of that consumption. I have a favorite quote I heard long ago; I can't remember who said it, but it made an impression on me and informs my decisions on many levels:

There is nothing so limiting to personal freedom as ill health.

With the World Health Organization's Campaign of 1000 cities, 1000 lives, people are organizing events worldwide during the week of 7 – 11 April 2010.  

I'm not attending any event, but taking a personal step.  I'm seriously considering limiting the over-consumption of my favorite cookie which is beer.

(c) Perle Champion

RIP Sunday Paper

I love print.  As long as I can remember, the Sunday paper has been synonymous with Sunday.  It's is a ritual.  When I lived in Arlington, Texas, I was in Sunday paper heaven: The Dallas Morning News and the Fort Worth Star Telegram. 

I've never subscribed to the Birmingham News, but rain or shine, I pick it up on my Sunday morning walk if I stop in at Western or the Texaco.  When I don't walk, I cross the street to the vending machine in front of Dreamland BBQ by Phelan Park.

My coffee close at hand, I separate the pieces in the order I intend to read them:

1. Ads and coupons on top, 
2. Comics next after tearing off that annoying advertising appendage and discarding it along with the sports and real estate sections that I never read.
3. Parade, then Lifestyle
4. Play which contains the tv guide, and which I hate.  We once had a separate tv-guide until some bright person improved it (note: it is not an improvement).  Now, I have to cut away the extraneous never-to-be read again stuff and staple the then loose TV-guide pages for future reference during the week.  
5. Local, then Money
6. Front page section is usually just various bad news,except in fall and winter when it is always Alabama football, and then I ignore it all together.  You'd think the sports section is big enough for this non-news of a game watched by everyone who cared and they all know who won.
7. Jobs classified is now tucked in behind a page covered in car ads, but at least I'm forewarned - in Bold solid caps on top I am told "EMPLOYMENT SECTION INSIDE"..

In the twenty years I've lived in Birmingham, I've read the paper every Sunday.  I even buy it on major holidays in spite of the fact they jack up the price to Sunday rates.  They say it's to pay for the ads.  Excuse me, but didn't the advertisers pay for those ads.  Why should I have to pay more to be advertised to.

Slowly but surely, the Birmingham News has devolved.  Perhaps it's the economic times, but I would think they would give instead of take to keep us and garner new readers.  Such is not the case.

This Sunday, as I sipped my coffee and began disassembling and reassembling my paper, I thought it was defective. There was a page missing from my comics.  There were four pages instead of six.  I thought, well mistakes happen.  I'll borrow my neighbors later - vending machines don't do exchanges.

Then I read Tom Scarritt on page 1F, and here I found out that I didn't have a defective comic section.  The section had been reduced to four pages from six, but I still had to trim off the ubiquitous ad.

That was the last straw. The Birmingham Sunday paper is not what it used to be, and this past Sunday's may well be the last I ever buy. Two Dollars is too much to spend on so little. I might buy the NYTimes, or the Atlanta Constitution for an occasional Sunday fix, get my TV-Guide on-line, my comics from Chicago Times.com.

Curling up with a laptop (eventually, an ipad) on the couch isn't quite the same, but the content is more satisfying. I'll miss print, but such is life.

(c) Perle Champion

Blue Lights are Special

My neighbor, Mark, and I agreed to leave our blue christmas lights up until they died - I hope they last for years.  It is so pleasant to come home late at night and see the gentle blue glow from our respective balconies - I'm top left; he's top right.

Bottom left, is Ms. Louis. She's a 75 year old black lady who sits for various, and I'll quote her here, "rich ole white women in Mountain Brook". The day I moved in and introduced myself, she called me Ms. Perle.  I have since I call her Ms. Louise. She tends to talk to herself a lot and single various church hymns as she goes to and from the yard and the car. I never see any lights on in her place, so I can only assume she rises and retires with the sun.

Bottom right are the nurses, a mother and daughter.  There's always a porch light on here front and back, as they work all sort of shifts at UAB Medical center. 

As renters, we couldn't have landed in a better place. The landlord fixes everything within a day of notice, if not the very day.  We have off-street parking which even some of the homeowners in the neighborhood do not.  No one blasts tv or music,

Mark & I are both artists with day jobs, or at least we were until I got laid off.  I'm now going full out on freelance writing, painting, editing, etc. - anything to bring in the $$$. We compare notes and critique each other's work.  I wish we had another writer in the building, but I have to be content with a few on-line buds there.  Can't have everything.

Right now I'm taking a break from critiquing three e-books for a Florida publisher.  They're due next week, but I'll be finished by Friday.  Sooner in the sooner paid.  I've read that a blog should be consistently posted and I've been anything but in my postings. 

The weather is still so temperate, and sitting here working on the laptop by the open window that opens onto the balcony hardly feels like working.  The trees are leafing out, and traffic is only just beginning to pick up below. I can hardly tell the blue lights are one for the brightness of the day.


But tonight, I look forward to swinging on the porch swing, sipping a glass of wine, surround on three sides by their soft blue aura.