A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015: Reflections

April is gone and the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015 is over...or is it? (I envision a Dr. Sheldon Cooper Spock-like raised eyebrow above un-Spock-like twinkly eyes, and a sly, all-knowing smile. Yeah, I'm a nerd. Actually, I haven't made it up the Outcast Chain to Nerddom yet.  I'm still a Dweeb. But that's a different blog post.)


It would seem there is one final blog post associated with the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015: a Reflections post. Due anytime during the week after the challenge concluded. I missed the May 8th deadline so I'm posting late.


I stumbled into the challenge the day before it started thinking, Oh this will be fun--I'll have a reason to blog daily (my goal this year is to resurrect my non-existent personal blog and get in the habit of blogging 2-3 times a week).


For the most part I wrote and posted daily during the challenge--I almost always write something daily, it's the posting thing I don't always do. My iPhone is full of unfinished notes (100+) and email drafts (500+) many of which started out as blog post ideas, but never matured to fruition. But, for the most part during the challenge, I wrote AND posted something daily. I say "for the most part," because two posts were late. Considering I posted more times in one month than I have in several years total, I consider myself a Challenge Winner, so I get to wear the Winner T-shirt.


But more than getting to wear the t-shirt, this is what I got out of the challenge:


I learned blogging is hard work.


It was more difficult than I thought it would be to come up with a topic each day, carve out the time to craft a poem or narrative, organize my scattered-ness and edit my typos, and finally post it--only to read it later and find problems and typos glaring back at me!  I learned I really need to prewrite, in order to have time to walk away, then come back to it with fresh editor-eyes, so I can fix the glares before I publish, all by the daily deadline.


During the month I visited all kinds of blogs:  food blogs, travel blogs, animal/pet blogs, writing blogs, poetry blogs, personal blogs--and the list goes on. I saw many different styles of writing, content, voice, and style. I saw things I liked and wanted to try or imitate, and I saw things I didn't care for or wanted to avoid on my own blog. I FaceBook friended or followed blogs or tweets of several bloggers. I saw more traffic to my own blog and someone even started following my blog. [I've got a couple of Twitter followers (even though I think I've only tweeted once or twice) and I have several (still less than 100)  people who follow all my Pinterest Boards; however, until this challenge I had never had anyone follow my blog. Partly because I never promote it and partly because it's a personal blog with inconsistently timed posts of my un-themed written drivel.]

I'm still floundering with voice, style, and theme for my blog, but I think I've also grown a little--if only to be bolder--I normally lurk in the shadows of the blogs I follow. But during the challenge I *gasp* interacted with other bloggers.


And I survived.


In fact, I actually enjoyed the interactions. Total strangers read my posts and encouraged me. And when I saw how empowering that was, I in turn left comments on other blogs.

I still have lots of techy-stuff I need to figure out. Things like:
1) I never got the hang of linking my blog to anyone else's
2) I never figured out how to grab a badge (maybe my iPhone doesn't support that?).
3) Next year I need to remember to declare my blog content (I forgot and couldn't edit once I had registered).


And I need to set aside more Blog Reading Time each day.


One of the things I found frustrating--enough so I contacted the Challenge Administrator--was the inability to easily find my own blog each day because the number changed as blogs were culled. (I never found the search box mentioned in the FAQs--perhaps due to the limitations of my iPhone). This difficulty also meant I had a difficult time finding the 5 blogs before and after me (some of which were blocked when I attempted using my work computer during my lunch break). And it made finding random blogs I had enjoyed reading the day before, unless I followed them, difficult to refind. I also suggested it would be nice if we could pull up other blogs by name or by category.  It was way too time consuming to hunt for blogs specific to my interests because I had to scroll through 1,500-1,700 blog titles each time.


I also expressed my gratitude for all the Admins and work they had put into the challenge.   Even through my frustrations with the limitations of my iPhone, as well as the limitations of the challenge site, I LOVED this experience and I was learning a lot  about blogging through my own trial and error--but also by visiting other blogs, and interacting. I really didn't expect a response from the Admin during the challenge, but she graciously responded.


Overall, the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015 was AWESOME and I look forward to next year. Maybe I'll have figured out some things by then--badge grabbing, challenge theme, linking and following... just a few of the basics.


Until next year, Happy Blogging! Of course, you're always welcome to stop by before the challenge...

Z Is For Zulu (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

Today is the last day of the A to Z Blogging Challenge. It’s  ze-end. I’ve read some entertaining and enlightening blogs,  and met interesting people along the way.  I’ve learned a  lot this month. Foremost:  blogging is fun, but it’s also work. It’s a challenge to come up with topics and share your thoughts and ideas (or even scarier—your feelings) every day.  I’ve met some wonderfully talented bloggers. I’ve read interesting, enlightening, and entertaining blog posts, I’ve been encouraged by others who have taken the time to drop a line or two. I’ve been exposed to a variety of blogs—the differing blog set-ups, writing styles, and personalities have given me much to consider about my own style, site, and content. It’s been a fun month of learning, and I look forward to doing this again next year. Now to capitalize on this learning and momentum...and continue to consitantly blog.

For this last blog, I wanted something profound or meaningful to blog about. The problem, as always, is what should that be? Coming up with just the right Z-word  presented itself as a puzzle, a conundrum, dare I say it…a challenge…
http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com

Zebra, Zinger, Zaire, Zipper, Zapped, Zany,  Zither…these are just a few of the Z-words filtering through my head. But nothing spoke to me. I wanted something to represent ze-end. But I didn’t want it to be  a made up word like ze-end.  I wanted a real word.

I thought about it before I went to sleep last night, and when I awoke, I was still floundering.  Then, it hit me as I drove to work—I get hit by a lot a great ideas while I drive to work.

Zulu. Not the South African Tribe or the language—the International Radio Communication code word for the letter Z—the last letter of the English alphabet.  The only problem is:  I don’t know anything about the International Radio Communication Code, so how could I write about it?  

I did what I always do when I need information, I Googled it and found the formal name of the code is actually the International Radiotelephony Spelling Alphabet; however, most people know it as the NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization) Phonetic Alphabet.  By the way, since I was reading about codes, I found out the Morse Code equivalent of the letter Z is _ _ . .  (dash dash dot dot).

If I had come up with zulu as the inspiration for my last blog earlier, I might have developed a code or a riddle for today—that would be kind of fun…humm…maybe next year…. 

But this year, as the A to Z Blogging Challenge ends,  I’m in a melancholy mood, so I leave you with  my favorite poem format:  the Haiku.

Z-day Haiku

zulu day arrived
a to z blogging  challenge
end is bitter sweet

End code Haiku

dash dash dot dot is

morse code for the letter zee
simply put       ze end

This blog post is my final contribution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which bloggers from around the world, representing every skill level and interest, blog every Monday through Saturday during the month of April, using successive letters of the alphabet as the daily inspiration.  I look forward to participating again next year—hope to see you then if not sooner!

X Is For Xenophile (A to Z Blogging Challenge, 2015)

Today the letter is X.  I only know a few X words: X-ray (medical); xylophone (musical instrument); Xanadu (mythical musical);  xenophobia (fear of foreigners); and xenophile (lover of things from another country), so I guess I’ll write about  xenophiles.

I have a xenophile friend. She is besotted by all things British—let me count the ways:

·         She writes her book series set in the Cotswold.

·         She owns a Corgi—the Queens dog breed of choice (she owns 5).

·         Her Corgi’s name is Darcy.

·         She had a Sheltie named Chelsea.

·         Her second novel is very

·         She designed her home with distinctive British architecture and decorating touches.

·         She loves to read and teach Shakespeare.

·         She swoons when she hears a really sexy male British accent. (Who am I kidding, so do I!)

·         She has a group of friends that speaketh ye olde English. 

And the list goes on.

Her Brit-session began, or at least intensified, after a High School 3-week graduation trip to England with her Grand Mother.   She fell in love with the country and her people. Years later she has written several books set in the Cotswolds’ with forays into London proper and a sea-side village near Bath.

I might tease her about this obsession, but in truth, I envy it.

I love to travel—stateside, I’ve been to almost every state except Alaska and a few of the Mid-Western ones. Abroad, I lived in The Azores, visited England, France, Israel (twice), Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji.  I still have  a few places I want to visit on my Bucket List (Alaska, Switzerland are my top two).  But I can’t pick my favorite place—in fact, when pressed to do so, I flippantly say, “the next place I visit!” And that’s pretty much true.

I love to plan trips, find out interesting things to do, foods to try, learn about whatever is unique to that part of the world, etc. But after I know what’s available, when I actually get there, I have no loyalty to my plans. I like to dart off on rabbit chases. If I miss a festival it’s okay—especially if I met an interesting local. If I see something not on your typical tour guides agenda—all the better!

Maybe I’m a xenophile after all—perhaps I’m a different breed of xenophile—rather than being a specific xenophile (like my friend),  maybe I’m a general xenophile.  Hummm, I like of like that:  General Xenophile.  Kind of like a Title or a Military Rank.

Maybe I can design a medal or a logo…it could be a winged X.

This blog post is my contribution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which bloggers from around the world, representing every skill level and interest, blog every Monday through Saturday during the month of April, using successive letters of the alphabet as the daily inspiration.

We are in the HomeStretch and tomorrow is "Y." Once again, I have no clue what I'll write about...

W Is For Welcome (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

I had no clue what I wanted to write about for “W.”  The obvious choices were Work, Writing, or Words with Friends. But I really didn’t have anything to say (at least that could be repeated) about any of those things. I love writing, and I range from light-hearted fluff to in-your-face rants. Words with Friends is the only online game I play. Right now I play 5-6 people consistently. All but one is a total stranger. I’ve only chatted with one while I’ve played—and surprisingly she is one of the ones I don’t know. I really like by job most of the time, but right now I’m in a slump at work, so I really don’t want to write about that. And then today, I was catching up on reading some emails and I came across the blog for Literary Agent Janet Reid, the infamous Shark of Shark Query.

I love The Shark. She is so spot-on in her comments. I would love to write a book and have her be my agent. Alas she does not rep what I’m trying to write (it’s a stalled cozy-turned-straight mystery-turned suspense-turned back to cozy-stalled at the 1/3 mark because I don’t know what I’m doing). But if I ever figure it out and get it written, she would be my Dream Agent. She is the QOTKU (Queen Of The Known Universe) who banishes her followers who anger her to Carkoon—some have earned a lifelong residence there. I try not to make too  many comments so I don’t get banished. Although, it’s all in fun and the ones banished really aren’t. You can tell she cares deeply for everyone. Even the banished. I have email alerts from several blogs so I don’t miss them. Even when I’m having a really stressful week and I’m not able to read the blogs, I save them. There are two that are at the forefront of my To Read List. I make time for them before any of the others.  Hers is number one.

In this past week’s Week in Review post she talked about the use of acronyms and their exclusionary effect. I’m an RN. I use acronyms and symbols in my writing all the time, to save time and to expedite getting vital information across to others in the health care setting. When I read her statement, it really hit me. I don’t mean to exclude people. But that is exactly what I am doing. Using an acronym that may or may not be well known is exclusionary. It’s a snub, intended or not. It’s a reminder that you  are not a part of the club. As someone who has never been A-List, I know what it’s  like to be snubbed, to be reminded that I’m not a part of the exclusive club. I don’t want to cause others to have experience that feeling—to be the person on the snubbing end. I don’t want to be the one excluding others.

I want to be the welcoming person—and I usually am. I speak to people and ask for their opinions. I invite people to join in the Reindeer Games. I ask how your day is going,  and I listen to the answer, and if you are going through a rough time I offer to pray for you and I try to remember to ask you how it’s going the next time I see you.

However,  I am very much guilty of using shorthand, symbols, and acronyms—even though I know not everyone knows what they mean. Oh, they will figure it out when they see it in context I think But they don’t. And I continue to use the acronyms—even though I know I’ll have to explain them.  Maybe I need to check  my motives to make sure it’s not just a convenience thing. Maybe I need to make sure I’m not, on some level, wanting to exclude others, “not in my club” as some sort of a sad little pay back ploy.  Thanks for the reminder Janet!

So there you have it. My “W” word is Welcome.

Right about now, I'm visualizing Herve' Villechaize saying , "De plane, Boss! De plane!" and Ricardo Montalban', the “epitome of continental elegance,  charm,  and grace” (IMDb's description,  but one I cannot top), opening his arms wide, and smiling as, week after week, he said to the passengers disembarking from the little Cessna, "Welcome… to Fantasy Island!”

This blog post is my contribution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which bloggers from around the world, representing every skill level and interest, blog every Monday through Saturday during the month of April, using successive letters of the alphabet as the daily inspiration.

We are in the HomeStretch and tomorrow is "X."  Once again, I have no clue what I'll write about...

U is for Unbelievable (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

Today is U and I was going to write about my unbelievably wonderful alma mater UMHB (the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor—a private Christian college in Belton Texas); however, it was an UNBELEIVEABLE day at work today—and not in a good way—I am unable focus, so I will write a short verse (haiku being my favorite), and provide a link so you can check out UMHB if you are so inclined:   https://www.umhb.edu/

unbelievable haiku

i’m bereft of words

indefensible drama
inexcusable

This blog post is my contribution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which bloggers from around the world, representing every skill level and interest, blog every Monday through Saturday during the month of April, using successive letters of the alphabet as the daily inspiration.

Tomorrow is V, and I actually have an idea what I’m planning on blogging about…Vacation!

S Is For Sleep, Short and Sweet (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

Too many late nights mean the post today is short and sweet—and I can’t think of anything shorter than Haiku or Limerick—or more fun.

Sleep Haiku

presence requested
please come visit me tonight
elusive slumber

Sleep Limerick

Each night I’ve been unable to sleep.
I’ve tried warm milk and counting sheep.
Without some rest soon
I’ll go looney-tunes
And fall right off into the deep!

 

When I walked Bandit this morning I thought of a really cute Limerick—but I didn’t take paper and pen—and of course it’s hiding from my mind now.

This blog post is my contribution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which bloggers from around the world representing every skill level and interest, blog every Monday through Saturday during the month of April, using the letters of the alphabet as their inspiration. Tomorrow is T,  and as usual,  I'm clueless as to what I might write about....

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

 

 

Q Is For Quotes (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

Q is for Quotes.  I couldn’t decide which quote, so I’m making a list of some of my favorites and telling you why.

One of my favorite people to quote is Dr. Seuss—and it’s even more fun because his quotes are frequently  rhymes. Since I love to read and travel I especially  liked this quote:

The more that you read,

the more that you'll know.
The more that you learn,
the more places you'll go. 
Dr. Seuss

Of course, he was referring to the transportation that takes place in your mind as you read and imagine possibilities and not necessarily for the physical travel.  But I still like it.

In reading quotes for this post I came across an Australian Aboriginal Proverb that is very close to  a Proverb I like in the Bible:

Those who lose dreaming are lost.

Australian Aboriginal Proverb

I had heard the Bible version of this proverb a long time ago, but every time I tried to find it, I couldn’t. I finally realized why I couldn’t find it two weeks ago when my Pastor quoted it—I prefer the NIV (New International Version) and this verse, is slightly changed—unfortunately the key words I looked it up by:  vision and perish,  were the words that were changed. I originally heard it in the King James Version (KJV).  The verse is; 

 

Where there is no vision the people perish…

Proverbs 29:18a

You have to have a vision. But equally important is being able to problem solve. Critical Thinking is a skill we need to instill in our children—rather than teaching to test (teaching just to pass  a specific test).

When I was working on my Masters, I took a Problem Solving class and one of the first activities we did was to figure out a riddle about how to get Missionaries safely across the piranha infested river with only two canoes and a bunch of Cannibals. The solution involved taking steps that to the casual observer, might appear to be going backward.  This of course, was a lesson that sometimes you have to take a few steps back in order to advance.  What appears to be a set-back, may in fact advance you in the long run. That’s a great lesson to learn. Military leaders and sports coaches, among others,  use this strategy. It’s not one I can stomach easily, because I want to always make forward progress.  But it is a fact of life and once you learn it, those temporary setbacks, don’t have the paralyzing  power that they might have if you viewed backward motion as always being negative.   John Clarke said it this way:

Go back a little to leap further.

John Clarke

Just like I have several favorite Dr. Seuss quotes, Thomas Edison is someone else who said several things I like—most have to do with working hard as the foundation to success. But he also has several quotes about failure. You wouldn’t think he would know anything about failure—at least I never thought of it, but he had his share of failures—just as we all have. Here are three  of my favorites:

I failed my way to success.

Just because something doesn't do what you planned it to do doesn't mean it's useless.
I have not failed, I've just found 10,000 ways that will not work.
Thomas Edison.

While I was looking for some of my favorite failure quotes I came across many who said the same thing. It seems failure is rampant—even among the successful. That gives me hope.  Thomas Bailey Aldrich and Theodore Roosevelt,  said it best:

They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.

Thomas Bailey Aldrich

It is hard to fail, but it is worse to have never to have tried to succeed.

Theodore Roosevelt

And what about turning failure into success? I love a good come-back-from-behind story.  I root for the underdog—unless they are playing the Cowboys or the Saints (in that order).  Henry Ford  was someone that knew how to turn a failure into a success. He said:

One who fears failure limits his activities. Failure is only the opportunity to more intelligently begin again.

Henry Ford

Okay, so everyone fails at something, but how do you turn it around? When I was in Nursing School, one of my jobs was to work in the Campus Health Center, which was run by an RN, named Margret Petrick. Ms. Petrick was also an artist and loved to paint. I told her I couldn’t paint and made too many mistakes. She quickly corrected me and said, “There are no mistakes—only opportunities for embellishment.”  I don’t know if she was quoting someone else or not, but I loved that sentiment and I have employed it myself on a number of occasions—especially since I’ve recently become very interested in art of many different media. James Joyce knew this.  He said:

Mistakes are the portals for discovery.

James Joyce

Since I’m thinking of Ms. Petrick and her painting advise, I have to end with the best Dr.  Seuss quote—especially for anyone who creates anything. I love to write and I’m learning to draw, paint, work with clay, and take photos. I love the creative process. In every single instance, when I am creating something I come to a place, anywhere from two-thirds to three-fourths of the way through, when I look at whatever I am creating and I think This is crap!  There is no saving this! However, I have found if I keep on doing whatever it is, be it writing or painting, etc., if I work through the wall of negativity, I invariably find I have created something I like. Dr. Seuss said it this way:

Everything stinks 'til it's finished.

Dr. Seuss

So turn those backward steps into a forward motion, embellish your mistakes, and make your vision a reality!


This blog post ismy contirbution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which Bloggers from around the world, representing every skill level and interest,  blog every Monday through Saturday during the month of April, using the letters of the alphabet as their inspirtaiton. Tommorrow is the letter R and as usual I'm clueless as to what I might write about...

P Is For Painting (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

I've recently started to paint. Actually, I've been delving into all areas of art. I have tagged my favorite places to practice and learn about art:  Painting With A Twist, Peniot's Palette, That Art Place Belton.  I have also taken Community Education Classes at my local High School and the Cultural Arts Center. Each community has offerings for people of all talent levels and ages. I hope you are aware of those in your community.

I have no talent for art. But I have tons of fun. Don't get me wrong, there comes a time in every project, whether it be acrylic on canvas, charcoal line drawings, clay or premade ceramics, etc., where I hit a wall. I liken it to the wall runners hit. For me it usually stops me in my tracks about two thirds of the way through the project. I look at it and think, This is crap. There is no salvaging this mess. But I have found, if I step back--if I walk away for a minute or two--I can regain perspective. Even when I come back and see it really is crap, if I sit back down and continue to work through the wall, I almost always love the final result.

That's not to say it's without imperfection--there are plenty of those! But those imperfections teach me what to do next time. What to avoid next time. And sometimes, more often than not, the imperfection is embraced. It is included in the new design. The new vision. As is.

I promised a light-hearted poem today. For me, the only poem more fun than a Haiku is a Limerick--but alas the Limerick would not reveal itself.  Instead, I wrote a couple of Haiku.  The Haiku say the same thing--I just couldn't decide which one I liked better, so here are both Haiku and an Acrostik Poem on painting (they are more introspective than the lighthearted romp of a limerick I had hoped for):

painting haiku 1

painting is like life
single brush strokes combining
to compose a whole


painting haiku 2

brush strokes life events
combined composing a whole
art imitates life


Painting Acrostic 


Painting is my new obsession
Although I have little talent.
Imitating the Masters with each new lesson--
New techniques will be mine if I'm valiant.
Then one day I will look back and say,
I have learned about life through art. 
New canvas is like a fresh new day--
Grabbing both, I painted with heart!


This post is my contribution to the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015, in which bloggers all over the world take the challenge to post every Monday through Saturday during the month of  April using the successive letters of the alphabet as their inspiration. Tomorrow is Sunday. On Monday the post will be Q.

I can only imagine what Q will bring.....

N Is For No Clue (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

I clearly have no clue as to how our alphabet works. Yesterday at the end of my blog post I said today was L for Limerick—because evidently I was under the impression that our alphabet goes backwards. That, and I forgot I blogged on L is for Love the day before.  

I attribute my clueless state to the recent lack of sleep related to my procrastination in gathering tax documents until the last possible minute—and I do mean last possible minute.  I completed the taxes in the wee hours the morning of the 15^th, and then made a copy at work. I get off work at 4pm (when I get off on time) and the post office closes at 4:30. It’s usually a 10-15 minute hike out to the car since I park in the back-forty and have to go around construction work.

As I drove to the Post Office at 4:20, I glance down at my gas gauge, thinking I should still have at least 10 miles to go before I hit empty.  Nope. I forgot I came the back way to work, and although it’s a quicker trip because there is less construction delays, it’s a longer route. 

My gas read 0 miles to empty.

Ack! I audibly gasped and pulled into the nearest gas station—and, because I’m clueless and sleep-deprived, I did the walk of shame—I’m still not used to my gas tank being on the wrong side.  Luckily there was an appropriate pump available so  I swung around to that pump and pumped gas really fast.

Back on the road, I rechecked the clock. It was going to be close, but I could still make it.

As it happened, I pulled in at 4:29 with just seconds before they locked the door.

At first the Post Mistress tried to tell me to just put it in the box and it will get the date stamp, but then she saw the yellow pick-up stub I had and relented. 

So the taxes are in the mail—and I have received my books from my favorite bestselling author Traci Borum.  Life is good. 

And I actually do know that L comes before M, and N comes after.  Of course, that knowledge may be a direct result of the 11 hours of sleep I received last night.

K Is For Kill: A Crude First Attempt at Colgyrnach (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

While participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015 I came across a form of poetry I had never hear of:  Clogyrnach (clog-ir-nach). Colgyrnach has six lines with a distinct syllable and rhyme pattern:

8a-8b-5a-5b-3a-3b

The last two lines may be combined into a single line; however, the rhyme-syllable pattern must remain intact.

I’ll be honest, I prefer the last line to be combined. Even still, it trips up my tongue. Up until the final line it tastes like a Limerick (which I love). I’m going to play with this and see if I can come up with something better, but for now here is my first crude Colgyrnach attempt:

Monday Quitting Time Colgyrnach

My mind is frazzled as can be
Mondays are going to kill me
O’er details galore
My poor brain will poor
—‘til  at four,  I will flee.

BTW, I'm cheating and using the "kill" in the Colgyrnach as my "K" for today.

J Is For Jury Duty (A to Z Blogger Challenge 2015)

My presence is requested--nay, required. I have once again been summoned. This is the seventh time this honor has been bestowed upon me. However my pick record is quite dismal.

The first time I was a barely legal kid living in Florida. The Friday before I was to report I called the number provided but there was no answer. I continued to call all weekend; but there was never an answer; never an outgoing message. 'I must be needed,' I reasoned, and I was elated. However, Fate is sometimes cruel. I, along with numerous others, arrived on Monday and we were met with looks normally bestowed on those claiming to see aliens flying in the sky, and rude comments like, “Why didn’t you call? You are not needed! Go away!”   Everyone was relived except me. I believe Jury Duty is an important aspect of our legal system and I wanted to be picked. Everyone deserves a trial by their peers. The elation I had been riding quickly crashed and burned. My only consolation was the prorated service check for five dollars and change—nothing of consequence—the price of a tank of ‘70s gas for my VW Bug. However, multiplied by several hundred people, they soon discovered not airing the message was a costly mistake.

The second time I received my invitation to a Florida trial, I  was excused because I was a Nursing Student in the state of Texas.

"The third times a charm," or so I thought. The Texas phone system worked and I was excused. My number, in the 200s, was too high.

The fourth time I dressed in my Sunday Best and arrived early to ensure I received a coveted parking space. I chatted with everyone I knew. I flitted around as if I was at a cocktail party. had high hopes of being picked. Surely this would be my year.

I was excused because I knew and had worked with three of the other prospective jurors. I left dejected. My former coworkers and acquaintances were jubilant. At this point I asked a lawyer how I could make myself become a more attractive juror. He said I wasn't picked because was too eager.

The fifth time I slouched as I read my book.  I ignored my surroundings. When announcements were made, I raised my eyes and disdainfully looked at the speaker, stifled a yawn, sighed and returned to my reading. Beneath my facade of boredom my tummy was tied in knots.  There were two cases being tried. One was a Veteran against a Business Owner, the second was a Competency Hearing. Either would be interesting to me, but because I had worked as a Psych Nurse for 6 1/2 years I really wanted the Competency Hearing.

I made it through the questions and waited during the break as both sides picked and struck out the prospects one by one.

When the lawyers filed back in to tell us their selections we were told most of us were being relieved of duty—they settled the Veterans case, and only the following Jurors would go across the street to the judges chambers for the Competency Hearing. I wasn't among the chosen. I left with mixed emotions. Dejection at once again missing the cut. And excitement. It was the closest I'd ever come.

Then I experienced a break of ten years during which  I wasn't even invited to the dance. All my friends and coworkers were. They even served on Grand Juries. Each and every one of them griped and complained about it and tried to finagle a way out of performing their civic duty. I  wanted to serve my community and wasn't even being considered. It seemed there was no justice in the Justice System.

The sixth summons arrived after a decade of silence.  In breathless anticipation I opened the summons to serve. Jury Duty had eluded me for  36 years—would this finally be my year? Hope sprang eternal. Realistically  I knew it would be a long shot—especially since the lottery number I drew was the highest I had ever drawn; however, masquerading as a cockeyed-optimistic-Pollyanna, I hoped this time would be different. I would wait three weeks before I could call to see if I needed to attend the screening process.

During the intervening three weeks, I prepared myself. The first week, I had a long overdue mani-pedi. The second week, I scoped out the new location—we had built a huge Criminal Justice Complex since the last time my number was drawn. The third week I planned what I would wear. I didn’t like the plan. So I bought something new. I picked out a book to read during the mind-numbing wait I knew I would endure prior to the final selection process. I practiced my “bored look” so I wouldn't appear too eager. I alerted my colleagues and rearranged my work schedule to accommodate my service. I was ready—ahead of time. Way ahead…and I still didn’t know if I would be needed. I would not find out until after the close of business on Friday.

After an eternity of waiting, Friday arrived. I worked through the longest workday of my life. And then I counted the sixty minutes until 5 pm. Each second took a lifetime to tick. Finally it was “after five.” To be exact, it was 5:01 p.m.

Trembling I dialed the number as instructed. The phone rang. I held my breath, hopeful this would be my time to serve. The phone rang again. I worried a hangnail—this really needs to be my time—I want to serve. I have to serve. I yearn to serve. The third time it rang, I gnawed a fingernail—ruining my perfectly good three week old manicure—and the snotty voice inside my head wondered, ‘did they forget to leave the recording on?’ It had happened to me before. And now, thirty-five years later, I feared it had happened again.

The phone rang a fourth time...Nothing. I pulled the phone away from my ear, looked at it, and spoke to it incredulously, “it’s not like anyone has to move or reach to pick you up! Surely, the outgoing message will kick in soon—don’t all answering machine recorders kick in by the fourth ring?” Mockingly, it rang a fifth time. A sigh escaped my lips. I was still a contender, but I would have to wait until Monday to learn my fate. My eyes glazed over like the lifeless eyes of a hopeless worker in a dead end job. I let the phone ring one more time. Just in case. Finally, after the sixth ring, the automated voice answered.

I paced the room like a caged lion as I listened half-heartedly to the regular outgoing announcements instructing listeners, “If you want thus-and-such, do this. If you are thus-and-so, go here. If you need to speak with so-and-so, call this number.” Finally, the flat and emotionless automated voice intoned the message I had been waiting three long weeks to hear, “Numbers 1-600 are required to report.”

I sucked all the air in the room into my lungs and froze in my tracks. Had my ears deceived me? “Required to Report”—that phrase was as sweet as early morning birdsong. Against the odds, the opportunity to serve my community was mine. I made the First Cut. I was required to report.

The morning of Jury Selection I arrived and filled out my summons while I waited in the weapons search line. Then I waited in the hallway while they tried to fit all 600 of us in the room. Several were asked to sit at the lawyers tables and in the jury box. Finally, the process began. I was 52 jurors away from the cut off. Even though there were several cases to be tried, I had no hope of making it any farther.

They broke us into 6 groups—the sixth group was excused to go home. The remaining five were scattered throughout the complex. I was the third person to be called in my group— when a Minister that I volunteered with on the Welcome Committee at my Church had been the second my chances had plummeted.   Solidifying the unlikelihood of my being picked, three prospective jurors after I was called a Psychiatrist I worked with was called.  I resignedly  thought to myself, "Maybe next time."

We entered the Court Room in the numbered order.  The lawyers polled us. They never asked if we knew anyone in the room. I began to have a glimmer of hope.

After a break, in which the lawyers whittled away at the jury pool—and one of the other groups was released because they had settled out of court— we were summoned back in and informed of who had made the cut. Prospective Juror Number 2 (my Minister) became Juror Number 1.  I started packing up my stuff. Then they called my number. I was Juror Number 2!

My giddiness at being chosen quickly turned into a somber realization  that I had a huge responsibility heaped on my shoulders. I was at once humbled. The day wasn't about me and my desire to be on a jury. It was about doing the right thing. Of judging with wisdom and discernment.  As I truly comprehended that the quality of life for another person hung in the balance I felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders.

This week, as I looked at my seventh summons,  the memories of the past 36 years flooded through me.

I'm still eager to participate in the legal system; however, this time I'm acutely aware of the overwhelming privilege  and responsibility we call Jury Duty.

This time I know there will be difficult decisions to be made—decisions that will effect other people. Decisions that will determine freedom or incarceration.

This time my trembling hands opened the envelope and I swallowed convulsively as I learned I am Prospective Juror #215. 

I Is For Inspiration (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

I love to read or listen to interviews with writers. Invariably someone will ask, "Where do you get your ideas? What inspires you?"  The writer will almost always say they get their ideas from the "world at large," or "ideas are all around them"—something along those lines. Perhaps they are inspired in the reading of a news story, or overhearing a conversation on the subway, or seeing an interaction between a couple in the mall, etc.  I myself am a listener  and a people watcher, and I sometimes have an over-active imagination, which can lead me to think some pretty preposterous ideas.  Even with alternative stories and possibilities running through my mind, I also  often wonder how an author came up with a particular story line. Each of us has a unique perspective, and what occurs to me might not occur to you, and visa-versa.

When asked about inspiration Stephen King said, “You see something, then it clicks with something else, and it will make a story. But you never know when it's going to happen.”  I love that.  He  plucks two totally unrelated ideas out of the air—or the newspaper, or an overheard conversation, etc.—and puts them together.  That actually is a great writers block activity—taking two totally unrelated ideas and marrying them to breathe life into a new form.

Today I’m afraid I’m not very inspired—I’m preoccupied with finding out how my soon-to-be 80 year old Mama, who lives 900 miles away in Florida, is doing after her recent surgery.   All this week she reports she has steadily improved her post-surgery stamina and she hopes to be discharged home today.  With my preoccupation I have not been observing the world outside MaryLou Land, so I know I’ve missed many stories. But, really, is that any different from any other day of distractions?  Orson Scott Card said,  “Everybody walks past a thousand ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. Most people don’t see any.”

If I want to strive to always be among the few who see the five or six stories—if not more—then I need to remember to be open to the possibilities every day. Even the distracing days. Especially the distracting days, because that next odd idea might become a NYTBS. Or the quirky new guy at the grocery store could become my next protagonist.   

 

I'm look forward to relaxing after this stressful week and reading a few blogs this evening and over the weekend.  I love seeing what has inspired others. And I'm sure I will read several blog posts that will inspire me. 

Yesterday I wrote about my attempts at pseudo-Haiku, and as often happens after I dabble in a specific meter, I am currently stuck in 5-7-5 meter-land,  so here’s a pseudo-haiku on inspiration:

 

unconnected thoughts

married to form a new life
i am inspired

 

I guess I should be thankful—Christopher Walken visited my dreams last night—I could easily be stuck in Iambic Pentameter being chased by a madman...http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

G is for Goal (A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015)

Duh! As soon as I wrote the last paragraph of yesterday’s  blog—the one where I confessed I hadn't a clue what I'd write about for G today and I promised I'd try to be a little less scattered—it hit me—G is for Goals. People with goals are focused. They strive to accomplish an end point, to achieve something.

Without a vision or a goal we flounder. We are directionless. We are often times ineffective. When we have a goal to work toward, we can accomplish things that may initially seem to be impossible. Having goals can empower us, as we set and achieve goals. But the goal has to be a good one.  By good, I don’t mean to imply it must be moral or upright (although I would hope it is). So, what is a good goal?

A good goal is a SMART goal.  SMART is the acronym that stands for Specific (the what, how, and why) Measurable, Attainable, Results-focused,  and Time-bound. I'm going to lose weight.  Is a great idea—but as a goal it’s rather weak because it’s not specific or measurable. I’m going to wear a size 2 by my High School Reunion Dinner, on July 18^th appears on the surface to be a good goal—it’s measurable, results-focused, and time-bound. However, since I’m nowhere near being a size 2, it’s not realistic or achievable. To give myself that goal is to set myself up for failure.   A stronger goal would be, I'm going to lose ten pounds by my High School Reunion Dinner July 18^th.  This goal can be easily measured, losing ten pounds in three months is attainable, it is result-focused, and it is time-bound; however, is not as specific as it could be.  Turning it into a SMART goal it might look something like this:

By following a 2000kcal diet and  exercising 30-minuets 3 times weekly, I will lose ten pounds, and drop a clothing size  by my High School Reunion Dinner on July 18^th.

One of the reasons I am taking the A to Z Blogging Challenge is because, I’m visionless and floundering. I love to write, but I have no focus, so I write drivel. I like to say it’s because I have eclectic reading tastes and just don’t know what I want to write. But the truth is I have no goal, no direction. I’ve haven’t found my voice. In order to find my voice I have to write and see where it takes me—to see what it has to say—and I just haven’t been writing. I have a stalled novel, a stalled blog, and one unpublished children’s story I wrote as a gift for a young friend.  

I started the novel four years ago.  It started out as a cozy, morphed into a suspense, and is now stalled as a suspenseful cozy-with a dash of romance—really—when I’m honest with myself, I realize it’s just 35,000 words of drivel.

I  set up my blog in September 2009; however, I have only 79 posts.  Five and a half years is 68 months. I averaged just over one drively  post a month—and most have been posted during the first year or the last three months—the in-between-years are barren.  My writing can’t improve and I can’t find my voice if I don’t exercise it. 

I don’t “do” resolutions, but this year I decided to make a goal (albeit a weak goal) of writing 1-2 blog posts each week—and then I stumbled blindly into the A to Z Blogging Challenge on March 31^st.  Blithely  I said, Go for it! How hard can it be?! You’ve participated in NaNoWriMo (I overlooked the fact that I have never won). It’ll be fun. You’ll meet some fellow bloggers. You don’t have to write a 1,000 word post each day—it can be a 100 word flash fiction, or a 200-300 word personal essay, a 12-stanza poem, or in a pinch a really bad 5-7-5 meter pseudo-haiku.  So I signed up. And it has been fun, and I’ve read some amazing blogs. I’ve also seen some blogs that make me realize I’m not the only one searching for voice or consistency in their writing, and I’ve decided to revise my weak writing goal and turn it into a SMART writing goal:  

During the month of April, I will participate  in the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2015 by writing 26 posts—one post each day Monday through Saturday—and reading at least five posts each day, in order to gain insight into how an interesting story is told and what my voice sounds like.

I think I’ve coved it all: Specific (what, how, why), Measurable, Attainable, Results-focused,  and Time-bound. The problematic attribute is the attainable—I can write 26 posts and read 130, but I’m not sure if I will “find my voice, or discern what telling a good story entails” in only 26 attempts—but it’s a start, and I will definitely be 26 attempts closer than I am now.

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/ 

Tomorrow is H-day.  Haiku-day!!!  I love haiku—even though I don’t really know the rules. So it’ll actually be 5-7-5 meter or pseudo-Haiku day. But I’m calling it haiku.