Sunday, December 18, 2011

From Reading to Looking

I've never been a huge poetry enthusiast, which is a shame since I am married to an accomplished poet. (Here's my plug - he has a new book available on Amazon entitled Adam's Dream, by Douglas L. Talley) I have been taken in on occasion by the sentimental or inspirational poem. But after nearly thirty years of marriage to a serious poet, I have begun to associate sentimental poetry with greeting cards, and inspirational poetry with Hallmark Channel movies. They're not bad per se, but not good either. Serious poetry has often left me perplexed. I finish the poem and wonder why it was written? What was the poet trying to say? What was his inspiration? Usually I follow the poet until the end of the poem and then find myself saying "Huh?" or "So what?" I feel bad when I have this reaction. I see what my husband goes through trying to find the 'perfect' word for a poem. I know that poets work hard at their craft. So when my reaction is - "So what?" - I know that I have totally missed the point and find myself frustrated in the process.

A few years ago, one of my daughters introduced me to a poet named, Billy Collins. For Mother's Day she sent me to a link of Mr. Collins reading one of his poems entitled, "The Lanyard." I loved it! It was well written, accessible, and I wasn't left with my customary questions at the end. My husband picked up a Billy Collins book of poetry not too long ago and left it lying around (in the reading room, if you must know) for me to pick up at my leisure. I did just that, a few weeks ago and read a poem entitled, "First Reader." The poem was about the books that were used to teach children to read - at least in my day they were, I don't know that they are used any longer. It was a treatise on Dick and Jane, how they were always pointing to something and telling us to "look!" What intrigued me about the poem was the closing line where Billy Collins points out a surprising truth. Commenting on how we looked at the pictures in those first readers, but then became fixated on - not what they wanted us to see - but on the words, the letters, capital and lowercase, and as a consequence, Billy Collins writes "we were forgetting to look, learning how to read."

I thought a long time about that truth and it's subtle implications. How I, personally, had forgotten how to "look." I was so wrapped up in my duties as a wife, mother and homemaker that I forget to look. Fortunately, my husband, the poet, did not. He noticed moments when our children would run through the house, trailing toilet paper behind them, or use cups as shoes. He listened when my son repeated a new word over and over again and my husband heard music - poetry. He made note that within twenty-four hours of our second daughters birth that she, too, was blessed with gifts like the Savior had been by the wise men. Her gifts were asters, a full moon, and the first snow.

Two things have happened in my life to help me 'Look' again. The first was becoming a grandparent. I'm not to busy now to appreciate the little antics of my grandchildren. When my grandson, Carston, does a perfect impression of "the smoulder" from the movie "Tangled", I see it. I savor it. When I watch two other grandchildren run to sit in their grandfather's lap at church, I see their joy and wish I could run up the aisle with them. I'm starting to 'look' as my husband has over the last thirty years and I am seeing a lot. Perhaps he has always been looking because he was a poet - a writer.

That leads me to the second thing that has happened, I started fancying myself a writer. Learning to write has forced me to 'Look.' Now I notice expressions, eye color, dress, mannerisms, like I never noticed them before. People are a treasure trove of inspiration. I see a man walking down the terminal of the Denver airport dressed in a pair of plaid shorts, a sleeveless ribbed t-shirt, dark socks and shoes, dragging a small square-shaped bag on rollers behind him, and talking into his bluetooth. I wonder what his story is. To me, he looks like a businessman who somehow lost his suit. Or I see a shirtless young man riding a bike down a crowded Austin sidewalk with an unusual backpack across his shoulders. On a closer look, I see that the backpack is not a backpack at all, but a cat, who acts like it's the most normal thing in the world to ride down a busy city sidewalk on his owner's back. There is a story there. Not only do I get to see or 'look' at the treasure that humanity provides, but I can also 'look' into my own imagination and see a whole new world - an entirely different story.

So perhaps as I learned to read, I may have forgetten to look. But certainly as I learn to write - I am remembering to see.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

The Work of Writing

I am on the hunt again. In the last three days I have queried six agents in hope of finding one who will take on David's Song (and the other two books in the trilogy, that are written and people are asking about but that at the moment I am too cheap to publish myself). I have often told Doug that I feel a little guilty spending time writing because it feels like too much fun. I can see my seven-year-old self with my collection of Barbie and Ken dolls acting out scenes for a novel. To me, writing feels like play.

Finding an agent on the other hand is work. I found a website called QueryTracker that will help you find agents who specialize in your genre. (Make a mental note Sarah.) For romance there are four pages of agents. I began with agents who only accept online forms from their websites. I diligently filled them out explaining the premise of my book in less than 50,000 characters (which isn't a whole lot). Then did the same with my bio in even less characters. Then I sat down and wrote a query letter. Trick with Query letters is that you have to sell your novel and yourself to complete strangers on one page. You have to grab the agents attention with something brilliant and witty and then in two to three paragraphs do your sell job. Once you think you have a good letter then you start searching for agents. That means that you visit their websites, their blogs, you read interviews that are still available through a Google search even if they are ten years old. Afterwards you make your selection and start firing off the emails, personalizing your form query to each agent. I did this several months ago and received only one response - a rejection. I am starting again with hope that a new query letter and lots of prayers will turn up one agent who likes the story.

What I really want to do is go back to playing with my dolls, but I suppose success at anything requires some work. Even people who love their jobs will say that sometimes it is simply work. And if I do find an agent who will take me on . . . then they will do the work to get me published and I can go back to my play. Sounds like a good deal.

Monday, July 18, 2011


Not long ago, my two daughters, Mary Jo and Gracie, and I discovered a couple new words. The first was neoologist (not sure if it's hyphanated or not - would be easier to read if it were). A Neoologist is a person who creates new words or phrases. Shakespeare was a neoologist creating something like 1800 words in the English language. My husband is a neoologist creating the word splunkular for a poem that he was writing (which, by the way, will be published in his new book which is coming out before the end of the year).

We also came upon the word - Lethologica. The meaning? A time when you can't remember a word or phrase that is needed at a particular time. I always thought that was just an age thing - apparently not. It's a malady suffered by many no matter their age.

We jokingly came up with the sentence - I am a neoologist who suffers from lethologica. I know. It doesn't take much to entertaing us.

Now you ask - why am I writing about this? Especially when I just posted a blog yesterday. Here's why. After posting yesterday, my daughter, Bethany, mentioned on facebook that I knew a lot of big words. That in the course of reading my blog she had to consult her dictionary. I went over the post and couldn't figure out what she was talking about - 0bviously because I knew all the words. It happened to be the word vacilate. Which by definition means to keep changing ones mind. It amused me to think that Bethany didn't know the definition of vacilate, since a few years ago changing her mind was her major occupation. She would call me at least twice a week with a new plan. "Okay," she would say, "I figured out a new plan. Instead of doing XYZ, I am now going to do ZYX." I would smile and know that in a day or two she would call and tell me she had changed her mind and now the plan was YZX. Since then she has noticably stabilized. That might be due to her admittance into the acting program at BYU and getting married. I'm not sure which had the greater effect.

Last night I became a neoologist. Because of the facebook exchange I had a dream where I made up a word. Are you ready for this? The word is 'cartecardiopendulum.'
What is a cartecardiopendulum, you ask? It is a devise to cut sheet metal. That's right. In my dream I needed to cut some small pieces of sheet metal for the young women at girls camp to use for shooting practice.(Cuz don't the girls usually practice shooting guns at girl's camp?) I went to the hardware store to get the tool and it was called a cartecardiopendulum. So now when you need a tool to cut sheet metal you know what to ask for.

And the very best thing about the word cartecardiopendulum? It's worth about a zillion points in Scrabble!

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Latest Happenings and Musings

Before I get another not-so-subtle reminder from my children that I have not posted in a while,I thought I should update my blog. I have nothing specific to post this time, but a few small things that are on my mind at the moment.

I spent the last half hour catching up on my children's blogs. They are as varied as the personalities of my children. Sarah's was full of Harry Potter wisdom (I will have something to say about that in a minute.) Bethany's was all about Grad School and her anxiety as that era of her life draws closer (very understandable.) McKenna's was an update on all that she has been doing lately, like celebrating her first anniversary and the Harry Potter movie. I must say that I usually get a chuckle from McKenna's blog. If I'm ever down in the dumps I can look at her blog for some humor. Shannon, bless her heart, has been too busy to update hers (Something else I will talk about in a minute.) Same with Anna's, although there were pictures of the kids on her blog that I had not seen. And then there was Gracie's which bubbled with the effervesence that naturally spews forth from my youngest daughter. I hope it is always that way.

Currently, Shannon and her family are visiting with us. The visit has been wonderful and she and Brandt are enjoying the more temperate Ohio summer. Carston is a wonderful mixture of sweetness and little boy. He can rough and tumble with the best of them, but also loves to give hugs and kisses. He does give some 'interesting' kisses on occasion - smack on the lips and a little longer than comfortable - but still very innocent and sweet. He is as smart as can be. I've listened to him repeatedly try to get his own way by using his parents discipline techniques on them. He will try and try to argue another minute on the computer or the Wii by telling them that he won't do something that they want him to do if they don't allow him another turn. He hasn't quite figured out that when you are 4 parents have ultimate power and so eventually he caves to their will.

Much to our surprise (and Shannon's as well!) just before they came to visit they recieved a blessing straight from heaven. A baby girl, born on Father's day of this year, was left for adoption in Alabama. Shannon recieved the call that they could come and get her the very next day. So when Shannon arrived here, she had little Faith - all of a week old - in tow. She is a sweet baby and a blessing beyond measure to our family. So since Shannon is now parenting a newborn we will excuse her lack of posting on her blog. :)

With company here, my writing life has been put on hiatus. About the only thing I am able to do is work on some revisions of David's Song. I decided I would send the manuscript to Shadow Mountain Publishing to see if they might be interested in the work, but realised that it was loaded with grammatical errors. There were also some minor changes I wanted to make in dialog and narration. As I have worked on the other books and on my current project (which has no name) I know that I have learned some things about writing (Some thanks to my creative-writing-major-daughter, and my husband, who also has some writing experience) that I hope to incorporate into the work. What has surprised me about this revision process is how much my emotions vacilate as I work. Sometimes I'm excited at the improvements I think I'm making. At other times I am convinced I am wasting my time - that no one is really intersted in Jeremy and Annie and David - I should put writing aside and be productive somewhere else. But I keep going back to it, so obviously, I don't hang around in that thought pattern for very long.

And then there is Harry Potter. This weekend the last of the HP movies opened. If Bethany and Sarah were here, I would have attended the midnight showing with them. However, sanity and sleep won out and Doug and I went the next morning to one of the first showings. I enjoyed the movie. I think it was the best of the Potter movies. It was action packed, emotional, and true to the book - all good things. What I hadn't anticipated was my gutteral reaction. I remember vividly seeing a Rosey O'Donnal Show back in the late 90's where she talked about Harry Potter. Knowing that Sarah liked to read, I bought her one of the books (Vol. 3). I didn't realize that it was a series and would make more sense if you started reading it with the first book. Sarah immediately started to read - and after a few days, she came to me and told me that she was really starting in the middle of the story and could I get her the first 2 books. I did. I had no idea what I was starting. Doug and I have read all the books. Shannon, Matthew, Sarah (of course), Bethany, and Mary Jo have read all the books. There were many discussions in our home about the characters of these books - Ron was ridiculous, Was Sirius Black really dead?, Was Snape secretly in love with Lilly? Hours and hours were spent in discussion about these books. Harry Potter was the kid next door. I knew all about his friends, his family, his struggles in school. As the the movie came to a close Friday morning, I found myself fighting a major emotional meltdown. (I'm not proud of this.) The meltdown wasn't so much an ending of Harry Potter - but a feeling that I was really saying goodbye to Bethany's and particularly Sarah's childhoods. They are adults now. My goodness - Bethany is married now - of course she is an adult. I truly felt like an era of life was ending. And it was sad - still is sad. There will be no more conversations about Harry Potter. My daughters - and son - will no longer gather in my kitchen to discuss fictional characters as if they were pals at school.
I will miss those conversations. I will miss sharing something whimsical, but still enlightening with my children. They are moving on and I am so proud of who they are becoming.

I guess it felt like I was closing the cover on the book of my earlier family life. That story has ended and now new ones are beginning. Those stories are exciting as well, but they will never be taking place in my kitchen, with all my children stitting at the island, or on the counters talking about something we've shared. The ending of Harry Potter is one of those departures that life takes. It's sad to see it end - but exciting to see what will come.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Mountians and Molehills

My quesition for the day is - why do molehills become mountains? Someone said something today that hurt my feelings. It wasn't a big deal, really. Just a comment that was in response to something I though rather innocent. The remark made to me was a little out-of-line and I should have brushed it off. I don't think it was intentially meant to be mean. But that little molehill of a remark became a mountain. Four hours of crying off and on (I'm still a bit weepy when I think about it)and I realized that it opened a pandora's box.

Calling it a mountain might be a bit of an understatement. It was more like the molehill became a volcano! My emotions exploded into thought patterns that are wholly unproductive and really hard to shake. I suddenly wondered why I dismissed my own feelings as insignificant. Where in my upbringing was I told that what I thought and felt didn't matter? That snowballed into a host of other inacurate I have no friends; Nothing ever works out the way I want it to; all my dreams in life are ridiculous...and so on. And then I realized that I was embarrassed because someone had hurt my feelings. I thought that made me weak and in tandem, unloveable. I found myself angry at those around me who seemed to be in control. On the other hand, those who were emotional, or tender, I emphasised with them to the point that I cried right along with them.

And the funny thing was - as much as I wanted someone to comfort me, tell me I was still an okay person, if they attemped to climb the mountain, I pushed them off. I was too proud to let anyone know or see what was at the heart of my red, puffy eyes. Too embarrassed to let people know that I wasn't strong enough to overcome a pebble thrown in my path.

So back to my original question. Why is it that one remark triggered an avalanche of thoughts and feelings? I think on one of my first posts, I mentioned that if I didn't like thinking about something I would slough if off and simply say "I'm just not going there." So what is it that made me go there? What is it that makes me conjure up everything that I think is wrong in my life, because one person said something hurtful? Am I the only one who does this? Please, even if I am, tell me others do it, too. I don't want to think I'm an absolute dork.

And then my other question it wrong to make mountains out of molehills? Sometimes I think I have to once in a while to maintain some emotional health. If I buried everything all the time, I'd be constipated and cranky. I bury enough to stay cheeful, at least that's what I tell myself. So if something happens- a molehill- and I decided to make, or can't keep it from becomin, a that so bad? Four hours later, and I'm on a relatively even keel again - I didn't let the lava flow for days. I feel a bit battered and bruised, but I'm convinced that a good night's sleep or a piece of watermelon will take care of that. Hmmm, watermelon. I told my husband once when he asked if there was food in heaven that there had to be. It wouldn't be heaven without watermelon. I'm suddenly feeling much better!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

8 Things a 5K Will Teach You

Okay, so last week I made the big announcement that I was going to run a 5K (that's 3.2 miles for the layman).

Here's a little background on this decision. At the end of December last year I decided I had had enough with my weight and made the big return to Weight Watchers (this isn't an ad, but I do have success with their program, just sayin'). I am now 20lbs lighter than when I started. Last week at their weekly meeting they challenged all of us to WALK a 5K. Pshah, I thought. I can WALK a 5K in my sleep. I do 40 minutes on an eliptical almost daily - and I've been increasing the resistance as I go. Walking a 5K is no challenge at all.

Tucked inside the info sheet for the 5K was a way to train to RUN a 5K. Silly me, I took the bait, hook, line and sinker. I'll do it, I told myself, it will be easy! And then I told all my friends on Facebook as well.

The next day I began my training. I was to walk for 5 minutes to warm up, and then run 1 minute and walk 1 minute, 10 times. Then walk for another 5 minutes at the end. With my terrific math skills I figured that was a good 30 minute work out. So I met with my personal trainer the next day and told him that I was going to run a 5K. He was all for it, because he's a personal trainer and they're like that, you know. I asked him (his name is Ryan for anyone interested. And he's just a kid, 26 years old, he's getting married and he's settling down to some degree....Oh, back to the subject!) So I asked him, should I train on the track or on a treadmill. He advised me to start on the track because it would be more like the race. So after a 30 minute lower body work out with Ryan I went up to the second floor track and started my training.

As I walked the initial 5 minutes, I thought - Hey, I feel pretty good! This is going to be a piece of cake! I'm in shape! I'll be able to knock of 3 miles in no time! Heheheheheheh! The joke was on me. I ran the first minute and thought - Wow, that was harder than I thought. I ran the second minute (after I walked a minute) and thought, that was harder than the first. By the time I got to my fifth set, I could no longer run a full minute.

But I came home and there were all sorts of posts on facebook telling me how great it was that I was going to run this race! And there were all sorts of posts telling me how much I was going to love it! And there was also some advice from experienced runners!

I am now in my second week of training and this is what I have learned thus far.
#1. Don't run after a 30 minutes lower body work out
#2. Never assume you are in shape!
#3. Be humble and take advice!(it was mentioned that I might be more encouraged on a treadmill. They were right!)
#4. Running is definitely harder than excerising on an eliptical
#5. Running on a treadmill is easier than running on a track
#6. Never run a marathon (or even a half)
#7. Your legs hurt after running
And last but certainly not least -
#8. Misery really does love company. It's a lot easier to think I am going to do this because there are other people who are going to run with me. (Well, they will probably run ahead of me, but think of all the cheering I will get when I get to the finish line!)

So I am committed. Barring any knee issues, I intend to run on June 18th. I will post pictures when the time comes, because I don't imagine I will ever do this again.
Week two training??? Run 2 minutes, walk 3 - check!

Wednesday, March 30, 2011


At the Wellness center where I excercise I see lots of people over and over again. I don't know their names. I don't know how old they are (Although sometimes I try to guess) or where they come from. Most of us are there to excercise and then go home. We keep to ourselves, not neccessarily because we are unfriendly, but because we are in a hurry. There is one exception to that rule - an employee - a woman whose job it is to wash and fold the gazillion towels that are used every day at the gym. I've noticed in the past that many people seem to know her. She smiles and wishes everyone a happy day and is rewarded with similar well wishes.

Today, after forty minutes on an eliptical, I dropped off a sweaty towel in the bin just as this woman placed another stack of clean towels on the shelf. I made a comment to her about her never-ending job, thinking of my own laundry waiting for me at home. She responded in kind and then wished me a nice day.

I followed her from the women's locker room out to the entrance and noticed that everyone she came in contact with, male or female, said hello to her. Some called her by name. Some just smiled and said hi. Some asked her questions about a family member. It was as if everyone knew her. I couldn't help but smile as I walked behind her and listened to all the greetings. This woman might have what appears to be a pretty dull and meaningless job. (Except I for one really appreciate the clean towels when I excercise.) But for as unchallenging as her job might appear, I think she must enjoy her work very much. How could you not, when you have all those friends?

There are other people who work the same job, but I never noticed them smiling or wishing the members a good day. And they certainly reap what they sow. I never noticed anyone wishing them a pleasant day.

I decided as I walked to the car that I want some of that good karma. I want to walk through a room, whether it be at one of the schools my kids attend, or at church, or at the excercise club, and smile, say hello and wish everyone a good day. I might not use those exact words. I might not even be able to say the words out loud. But I will extend the wishes anyway. And then I will sit back and see what comes my way. I will keep you posted on how it works!

Sunday, March 20, 2011


I have been thinking and thinking lately with all the trouble in Japan about an article I read years ago about snow storms. I know - you are all thinking what does a earthquake, tsunami and nuclear catastrophe have to do with snow storms. Let me enlighten you!

The article was written by a local columnist who said that everytime Ohio got slammed with a snow storm that he got phone calls from all his friends in Florida who laughed at us for getting a billion inches of snow dumped on us. No one ever calls people in the middle of a hurricane to laugh at them because the wind is blowing. But with snow storms, people point their nobby fingers and chuckle at our misfortune. The columnist went on to say, let them laugh. Because if he had a choice he would take a snow storm over a hurricane any day of the week. I think most of us would agree. The reason being is that snow storms for the most part are gentle. Yes, snow piles up around us and driving is treacherous for a day or two, but usually little damage is done.

I was thinking that trials in life can be compared to earthquake,tsunami,nuclear meltdown and hurricace type of trials and snow storm trials. The former being hard and devastating, easy for all to see and no one ever laughs at. I would no more think lightly of what the Japanese are facing today than I would of a person who has just lost a beloved child, spouse or parent. I would no more trade my own trials for those that the Japanese are facing than I would to that person who has lost a loved one. I know my day is coming for those kind of trials. No one escapes this life without some tragedy - it's just the way life is.

But most trials, I believe are like snow storms. They are gentle in nature, but never the less troublesome. They are a big event for a day or two but melt easily when the sun comes out. What I think gets missed is, that we all struggle with snow storms and sometimes, they can be devastating. Snow storms are cold and solitary. Everyone bunkers down and keeps to themselves. People who are struggling with snow storm trials often keep to themselves, unwilling to trouble others with their problems. People struggling with snow storms often appear not to be struggling at all (hence the phone calls from Florida). But those same people can feel isolated and cold. They made need help digging out.

I in no way mean to make light of the trials that come in the form of an earthquake or tornado or hurricane. But I think it's important not to underestimate the severity of a snow storm. It's easy to look at the harsher trials and be thankful that we are not suffering through that. It's not quite as easy to spot those who may be under a foot of snow.

I am thankful that whether the earth is shaking beneath me or I am hunkered down for a winter blast that the Savior knows both kinds of trials and has overcome them all. I have lately been enamored with the scripture from 2 Corinthians in chapter 12 verse 10. In the verse 9, Paul says he glories in infirmities. Why would he do that? So that the power of Christ may rest upon him. Then in verse 10 he says, For when he is weak, then is he strong. I want to think that I can glory in my infirmities too. That when I am weak, with Christ I am really very strong.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Patience Pays

Weeks ago my husband received a request for some of his poetry to be included in an anthology of Mormon poets. As the weeks have past, Doug has had several exchanges with the man compiling this anthology. We were both astounded to realize that there would be 70 poets included in this work. Well, maybe I should say I was astounded. Where on earth do you find 70 Mormon poets??? Doug sent in several poems (they wanted to publish 5) for them to select. A selection was made and lo and behold all the poems that were selected were from a book of poems that is being published this year by Parables Publishing, called 'Adam's Dream'. Doug requested from the man doing the anthology the name of that work so that Doug could give credit to the anthology in his own book.

This morning Doug received an email with the title of the new anthology. The title will be "Fire in the Pasture" which is a line from one of Doug's poems that was not originally selected to be in the anthology. The poem, titled 'Finding Place', will now also be included in the anthology. Not only included, but will be the opening poem of the work.

Now, let me tell you something completely unrelated. When I had a houseful of young children I was never sure if I was being a good parent or not. The house was often a mess. My kids often looked as if no one had ever taught them how to brush their hair. (And with six daughters that might have been true) They wore mismatched clothes, probably watched too much TV, squabbled with each other, snuck cookies out of the pantry and a whole host of other mischievous acts. They didn't make their beds with any regularity and only did their chores with the threat of Mom's wrath hanging over their heads.

Most of them are grown now. Four are married. Four are in some stage of their college education. Two are parents. Two are still at home, making messes and doing chores for the same reason their older siblings did - to avoid my wrath. But all of them are wonderful. They all are intelligent and caring and responsible. All of them follow the teachings of Jesus Christ which they were taught at home - mostly by their dad.

Why I tell you both of these is this. Doug has been working on his poetry for more than thirty years. He was writing poetry long before we met back in 1981. I have been a mom going on thiry years, my oldest is twenty-nine. Sometimes the rewards we seek, desire, even deserve do not come for a very long time. Doug for a long time has wanted some recognition that what he loves, what feeds his soul - poetry - was not a waste of his time. He wanted to know that he had some talent in that regard and that perhaps, through his work he might uplift others and bring them closer to the Savior. I, for a long time, wanted to know that my efforts at mothering were also not a waste of time, that perhaps I had some talent in the mom department. That perhaps through loving my children I taught them to love as well.

Today through an email, Doug recieved that reward. Today as I watched my grandchildren run into my youngest daughters arms to exchange hugs after church I had one of those rewards as well. It pays to be patient, to wait on the Lord to show you that your efforts are not in vain. When discouragement hits, I think it's important to step back and tell yourself - this is worth it - I just need to be patient. It's kind of like the line from the movie "Feild of Dreams". "If you build it, he will come." If we are patient those things that we most desire will come!

Thursday, March 3, 2011

I've Finally Done It!

Well, I have finally done it. I have joined the blogger world. Apparently every writer has to do this, although I can't imagine why. I procrastinated joining the blogger world mostly because I couldn't think of a clever name. My children seem to be prolific in that department. It wasn't until Sarah (child #5, daughter #4) suggested I use song lyrics that I finally discovered what I wanted to use - hence the title of my blog.

I thought the title fitting since I think I reside in the world of stars and dreams. It's my secret to cheerfulness in case anyone asks. An expression that I use often and one of my husband's favorites is, "I don't want to go there." That can be in reference to anything from a trip to the store, to thoughts about current life and world situations. If it's unpleasant I choose not to dwell on it. Of course there are days when all those 'thoughts' that I try to avoid come bubbling to the surface. On those days I try to avoid all people and stay in bed.

Since I am new to the blogging world, be patient with me. I will try to learn quickly how to master my piece of the world wide web. For some reason the words "oh what a tangled web we weave" just came to mind. Hmmm. I will try not to make this too tangled. Hopefully I will be able to add witty comments now and again, or thought provoking commentary, or maybe just keep everyone posted on what I'm doing.

I don't promise to be prolific. I'm not a very good journal keeper. But I will write on occasion. And that's all folks!