I finished my first story. I call it just a story for now. I’ve given it to two people to review. One person is reviewing for plot line thoroughness and the other is reading for content because it’s their age group. 

I feel proud of what I’ve written but I feel there could be more for it. While I’m waiting for feedback, I’m trying to decide how I’d like to proceed to publish. I have a friend that has strictly self published. I have a cousin that has published with a publisher. Both have told me theirs is the best route, but they both write in a different genre than I do. So I’m not sure which I would see the most success. 

Also while I’m waiting, I’m working on another of my stories. It’s the same main genre, but it is a different secondary genre. I write young adult stories. The one I finished is a bit of fantasy because it’s focused around ghosts. The other one is a suspense. I also wrote with a different person with these two stories.

I tend to give my main characters to females which is the case with these stories I’m talking about. I worry with the success of characters like Katniss Everdeen and Tris, my stories will be looked at with distain since there’s been a flood of strong evolving females. 

I’ll write my character’s stories whether others like them or not. If I didn’t, they would drive me even more crazy than I already am. As long as I’m writing they only whisper; otherwise they are nearly yelling at me or disrupting my sleep. 

Time to get back to the many things that keep me busy. 


My Life as Mom

I was perusing my files again.  I stumbled onto another poem that describes my mood of late.  I’ve been busy with my bill paying job as well as my home job.  But I’ve realized with my crazy life, I would prefer to win the lottery and do my home job.  This poem is the a perfect description of what things were like for me before the bill paying job.  I’d take it in a heart beat if I could.

As a side note, when I wrote this poem, my now 14 year old was first learning to read poetry.  She fell in love with this one.  She still gets a kick out of reading this one.


My Life As Mom

July 06, 2008

The alarm goes off

Beep beep beep

I stumble there slow

Still asleep

Coffee hot and strong

Sweet and creamy

Have a smoke outside

Stars still dreamy

Breakfast for three

All dressed for the day

Some off to school

Home others will stay

Now there are the chores

Laundry dishes floors

Forget the cat box

Dogs want out both doors

Mommy Mommy

Comes from the playroom

Timeout for one

Kiss away the gloom

P.B. and J. for lunch

Glass of milk to drink

Only minutes to eat

Dishes pile the sink

Rest time for some

Just not for me

Toys to pick up

Quick sec to pee

Home from school

Time for all a snack

Homework done

Hugs I do not lack

Chops frying in a pan

Taters boiling in a pot

Stirring up some gravy

Dinner done for my lot

Baths for all

Kisses before bed

It’s eight o’clock

Make sure fish are fed

Time to kick up my feet

Watch a few of my shows

Maybe pour me a drink

Let’s see where the night goes

News over; bed time comes

Share the bed with dogs and man

Slumber comes easy

Another day comes again

My New Country Living

I’ve been posting commentary here on this blog as I would pen thoughts in a diary.  Though I know that people will read them, I give really no care to what I write.  That being said, I have to share another tidbit of my overwhelmed life.  It’s about the latest change in my life, COUNTRY LIVING.

When I say country living, I am referring to the location of my home.  It’s in God’s country, as I was told by someone who had visited our house from town.  (Town for me has always been those cities where you can find department stores, fast food places, and other amenities that most people in this country take for granted.) Country for me is measuring distance in miles.  Like the fact that my closest neighbor is 1/4 mile away.  Another indicator of being in the country is that directions to my house may include turning off a paved road, and one of the paved roads that leads to our house is just chip-n-seal.  For folks that may not know, chip-n-seal is gravel that’s had road tar layered on top and pounded down.  It seems like pavement, but it doesn’t hold up like other kinds of pavement.  The closest city with amenities for me is thirty miles away or more; depending on what you might be looking to find.

Some people might find the distances disconcerting.  I don’t because there are so many things I love.  At night, I can see the stars.  I find it fascinating that I can see so many more out here then the many times we lived in town.  The lights of town drown out the night sky.

The sounds of the country may sound loud to others, but loud to me are sirens, thumping bass that rattles windows, and other general car/truck sounds.  Out here in the country, I hear crickets, cicadas, birds, turkeys, and coyotes.  I hear tractors working the earth and growth.  It is pure relaxation to hear the sounds of life in the country.

Something new for me now that I live in the country, I have had to learn to heat with wood.  I have a propane furnace, but it doesn’t do as good of a job.  I haven’t yet learned how to run the chainsaw, but I can run the splitter.  I, along with honey-do, am learning the best methods and woods to burn in our heater.  Wood heat is a warmer heat.  It permeates the whole house.  I just love it!

Back to the new grind of country life.  Gotta keep the wood burning.

An Update to my BOMBSHELLS

Good news!  My oldest offspring is not pregnant.  As much as I will one day welcome being a grandmother, I am so glad it’s not now. 

Mixed news!  My colonoscopy was clear.  In that, I just have IBS or nervous stomach.  I have to take pills to regulate and add more fiber to my diet.  Yippee, freaking skippy!!!

And my mother-in-law is still moving in.  I knew this was going to happen; I’m still not ready for it.  I had hoped I had about a year to get ready.  Hell! I’m still not completely moved in.  Now I have to shift my still packed boxes around to accommodate hers.  This is so not going to be fun.

Bombshells and Moving

Being overwhelmed has been an understatement of late.  I transferred with my job.  We moved AGAIN!  My family hates when we move.  But I feel  that we’ve finally found a place that we can call home.  The accommodations are just what we like.  We finally have the kids in a good school system.  Honey-do even found a part time job to make up the difference.  He finally has something to take a shower for. 


The understatement is not just because of my job.  It is because of all the bombshells that have hit since we moved.  The oldest heathen wonders whether she may be pregnant. Like when I found out I was pregnant with her, I am not ready for this but know this will change the dynamic if she is.  My mother-in-law is moving in due to health reasons.  And I am having health issues of my own.  I am going to have a colonoscopy tomorrow because my doctor wants to make sure that my only problem may be irritable bowel syndrome.  So I’m home from work today on a liquid only diet until this evening when I start the CLEAN OUT!  I am SO not ready for this latest adventure.


So in the spirit of my move, I dug up another poem I wrote over a decade ago about moving.  It seemed to fit my mood for the day because it’s been two months since the move, and we still have boxes everywhere.  I just don’t have time during the week to get anything done and with this huge house, I have little time on the weekends but to get the cleaning and normal chores done. 


Yippy skippy!!!  Enjoy!


Coming Home


Once again we’ve come to that point.

We’ll be packing up for another trip.

Into boxes our worldly possessions go.

Into the night we’ll travel like a wayward ship.


Pictures come off the wall

to be wound in bubble wrap.

Bicycles tossed into the pickup bed

and tied down with a strap.


Some cartons are filled with

knick knacks and such.

Others have photos of everyone

we love so much.


Plates, bowls, and coffee cups

Pots and pans and silverware

Sheets and towels

Even the clothes we wear.


We’ll leave the walls bare;

the windows wide open;

the floors won’t even have

a speck of dust I’m hoping.


We’ll leave this place

we’ve known for a year

to return to our home.

We’re just glad to leave here.


ã 2003


I haven’t posted in months.  I do feel bad, but that just goes back to my page title Overwhelmed Crazy Mom.

In January, I got a new job.  It has been a wild ride learning a new industry.  I had previously been been in the oil and gas industry.  Now I’m working in the security world.  No, I’m not a security guard.  I work with alarms and closed circuit television.  It may be electronics which is my background, but it’s definitely different.  I like it.

That’s the main reason for my absence.  Another is that I have one more class in order to achieve my bachelor’s degree.  I start it on Monday.  I will be done the first week of June.  I’m excited to be done, but after two years of these classes, I don’t want to be a project manager.  I can definitely use many of the lessons for moving into management.  I just don’t like the idea of a career doing projects.  I’m okay with my decision not to pursue a career as a project manager.

Now that my absence has been explained.  I want to talk about a phrase I read from an author, whose name I can’t remember.  WORD VOMIT!!!  In my new job, I spend a lot of time driving from job site to job site.  That gives me a lot of time to think about my stories that I’ve been working on behind the scenes.  I come up with wonderful ideas or phrases or whole chapters.  By the time I get home, I forget what I wanted to say.  I’ve been trying out free dictation software for my phone.  So far I’ve tried three different ones with no good results.  They all seem to turn off after a minute.  I talk more than a minute at a time. 

When I first tried one of them, I talk for a full thirty minutes and checked my phone to realize that it only had two sentences and a sentence fragment.   I was crushed.  Another couldn’t hear me.  Another just turned what I said into garbled letters.  It looked my when my children first learned that the keyboard made images on the screen.

kdsjf;oawiefnadfjdf asdfjoasidjfsd  opejpwej;sslo

It has sucked royally since I’ve started this little adventure. 

I’m trying so hard to just put my thoughts down so that I can create that wonderful story that will be a great novel.  I read advise from other authors.  I spent time reading other books like I am trying to create.  I have inspiration all around me, but no time to really spew the words on the page.  By the time I get home from work, I’m exhausted and still have to deal with school work and children and husband.  Honey-do does his best to take care of the kids, but he can only do so much since I have girls that want their mommy.

So back to the grind. 

Documenting Life

In the past two years I have been purging my home of the vast collections of STUFF that has amassed over the years.  I have been accused of being a borderline hoarder.  Having moved around a lot and lived in different styles or types of housing, my only excuse has been “I never know what I’ll need in one place versus another.”  I’ve grown out of this saving of stuff habit, so I’ve been going through boxes or totes on a fairly regular basis.  Sometimes, I get rid of a lot of things; other times, it’s just a few things.  I’ve been so good at this process that honey-do mostly has his two car garage all to himself; meaning, the stuff in there is mostly all his.

My father passed away in 2009.  Since he rented his home, we had to hurry up and box up his stuff and add it to our stuff.  It took over a year for me to even begin looking through the boxes of his stuff.  It was just too hard.  I found myself crying over the simplest things.  For example, honey-do started looking through a box to see if my dad still had something that he had given him.  I burst into tears for no real reason.  But with the purging efforts, I am down to a relative few boxes compared to what we loaded up out of his house. 

With all this purging, the most interesting thing for me to find was pictures.  I found pictures of myself I didn’t know existed.  Or I’ve stumbled onto pictures of people that I had long since let slip my mind.  Or I realized that pictures I had were some that I had taken and my family was unaware of.

I write about this today because we are now in a world of selfies and constant connection with the world around us.  I recently connected with cousins of mine that I only remember from my childhood.  And looking back into photo albums and boxes has made me realize that my life is no where documented as much as my children.  I have also seen the loss of print film.  Looking at my hard drive the other day, I realized that as of 2002 all my photographs were digital in nature and loaded onto my computer.  I also regret not backing up my files regularly because there was a time that I had six month period of time where I had several hard drive crashes and a loss of data.  Data being my pictures and writing that I did not have a hard copy.  It fascinates me how quickly the world evolves when it comes to data.