Welcome to Dee's Pad

My life as a writer, and as a wife, mother, and grandmother.

Friday, December 29, 2006

bad dogs

How did my dogs become Hudinis?
Current mood: aggravated
Category: Pets and Animals


Hi,

I have two white mini schauzers, Zeus and Icarus. Now they are cute as can be--except for when they get out of the fenced-in back yard--or slip through someone's legs as they walk into the house.

Then they become "BAD DOGS!"

Icarus found the one gate had an opening large enough to fit his little 15 lb body through. Zeus, on the otherhand, was too fat, weighing in at 25 lbs.

But then Icarus discovered a secret that he shared with Zeus. If they squeezed between the skids leaning against the wood pile, they could get behind it and there's this wooden sort of fence the previous owners put up and they could slip right underneath it and away they could go! Just like the dog who lives next door and has nearly 3 acres to run, they, too, could go for a run.

Until Mom grabbed their leashes and took off after them, that is. It took me a while to catch the buggers, but I got them leashed and home. Today Dad and brother put wire fencing across the bottom of the wooden structure and they can no longer sneak out.

Of course that doesn't fix them running out the door when they get a chance. Then I get to chase them through neighbor's yards and introduce myself to those who say, "Is that your white dog running over there?"

Instead of new collars with their names and phone numbers on them and toys for Christmas, we should've invested in one of those electronic devices you put on their collars that shocks their butts when they try getting out of the yard. That would teach them!

So here they lay, sleeping beside me like innocent little lambs who would never do anything wrong.

At least Big Maggie stayed out of trouble. She's too big to crawl through small cracks.

dg

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

kids and dogs

Hi,

Hope everyone had a nice Christmas--if that's what you celebrate.

We had 21 here on Christmas Day--that included two babies--one 6 months old and the other was a mere week old. They were spoiled rotten, of course.

Our 6 month old couldn't resist grabbing the cookie out of her cousin's hand and sticking it into her mouth. She ended up with green icing all over her face!

After dinner, I passed out the presents to everyone. My youngest daughter used to do the Christmas pageant at her church. So I found this book about the worse Christmas Pageant ever. It's a kid's book, but it is really funny. Then I got her a jar that read "Ashes of mouthy teenagers."

My oldest daughter and I were on the phone a few months ago and I told her about this shoe sale. So I tried describing them to her and she said yes, get them for her for Christmas. I did. I asked her what she thought of them. Her reply, "Well, my sister said they were certainly grandmotherly shoes. But I'll wear them around the house."

Then my used to be youngest granddaughter--just dawned on me she no longer is the youngest--almost got forgotten. Why? In the middle of passing out presents I had to use the bathroom. So the little boys were handing me the presents to pass out and they said there were no more under the tree.

I rushed to the bathroom--well as rushed as you could be when you have to squeeze your way into the bedroom past three dogs trying to squeeze past you so they could escape--and when I came out granddaughter #3 said, "Gammy, I thought you forgot me. But my mom said of course you wouldn't forget me. I was coming to get you when I saw this bag under the tree with a book sticking out of it. I knew it had to be mine."

Thank God the child found her present. I felt really bad for missing it, so I'll blame it on those rotten little 7 and 8 year old boys! At least my granddaughters like to read books. I mean, Gammy IS a writer. The boys get books, too, and I'm sure they groan each time they get one. "Not another book!"

So while everyone was here, a tornado hit Deland, but not our side of town. Christmas tornadoes aren't all that common in Florida. Three trailer parks got really torn apart. What is it about trailers that attrack tornadoes?

The dogs got presents as well as the kids. Icarus, our 15 lb brat, took the other dogs toys and made a pile and sat on top of it! He's such a alpha male! And he's the smallest of them. He managed to get out of the fenced-in back yard again today. We have no clue how he's doing it.

I bought him a collar with his name and telephone number and he's chipped. Same with the other dogs.

On Christmas Eve when my brother and sis in law arrived, the two smaller dogs manages to run out the door and it's always fun chasing them. I told my bro to stay out there and I'd go back to the house and get their leashes. I mean, lard butt Zeus is too heavy to carry back. Meanwhile, they listen to strangers more than Mom and my bro was close enough to that that the dogs ran to him--once I was out of sight. He held onto them until I got out there to hook them up. I told them Santa wasn't bringing them anything, but he did!

So here it is two days after Christmas and I probably gained tons of weight. Tomorrow I'll head to the gym. I don't want to have my dogs referring to me as lard butt!

dg

Friday, December 22, 2006

Christmas Gifts

Merry, Merry Christmas!

I hope everyone has a great time with family and friends.

I have to wonder--have you ever bought someone a present--but it wasn't what you thought you bought? Or did you ever give a child money only to learn you didn't put in the right amount?

Why do I ask? Because we sent our English cousins what looked like a nice small green plant. But they got a ficus tree instead!

Then when a child I gave a gift of money opened his card--I had only put in half of what I thought I did! He said he got $10 and I said, oh no, I gave you $20. He was right--I was wrong!

Once upon a time when I was much younger and could be called Mother Earth, I used to bake and bake and bake. But this year it's been condense to one or two cookies types and three different rolls, poppyseed, nut and cinnamin.

Speaking of rolls, have you ever had your dinner rolls turn out like hockey pucks? Mine did last night! We had company for dinner. My husband tried using his new smoker. The chickens didn't get completely cooked. Good thing we also had ribs! He cooked them on the grill. The potato salad and cauliflower turned out okay, but those hockey pucks! I threw them out.

My friend asked if my water I put into the yeast was too hot. I said it could've been. Guess what? That was it. I got up this morning and made another batch--wanted to make sure when I made them again on Christmas they were disasterous again--like bad yeast or flour. But no, it was just stupidity on my part!

Our family keeps growing--now we have 8 grandchildren! But what would Christmas be without little ones and Santa Clause?

Well, naturally there's the true meaning of Christmas and we don't forget that. I mean, I went to one grandson's Christmas pageant the other night. I swear, it was probably the worst pageant I've ever seen. It was held at a church and the songs were yukky--except for when they sang a few Christmas Carols. The script left a lot to be desired, too. And the singing--Lord help them. Surely out of 200 kids and those adults they could've found someone with a good voice?

Then the pastor declared that children are a gift from God. I don't dispute that. But he went on and on about the sinful parents blah, blah. He sounded like Jimmy Baker. I expected Tammy Faye to come strolling out any minute with her dangling earrings and tons of makeup.

Finally he finished. Then we were asked to dig deep into our pockets for money for the music department. My husband leaned over and said, "Oh they sure could use it!"

Truely, I've been to hundreds of pageants and you know, generally when kids are involved these things are cute. You sit and smile and think, aren't they adorable? Not this time! So you're probably thinking, so write one yourself or shut up.

Okay. I'm shutting up!

My oldest granddaughter took a fall on her bike the other day and is in pain. Here's hoping she'll feel better by Christmas Day.

So to each of you, again, I say have a very Merry Christmas. Enjoy family and friends. That's what life is all about.

dg

Sunday, December 17, 2006

My stories

My stories
Category: Writing and Poetry


Hello,

Tis' only a week away from Christmas. Do you have all your shopping done? Yeah, well, I think I do. But you know how that goes. "Oops. I think I forgot Aunt Miltilda and you know she always brings that fruit cake that we pretend we love and then throw it out the minute she leaves."

Or, Uncle Don--who thinks bringing a pint of whiskey is his contribution to dinner. Well, okay, it is "his" contribution. He drinks every drop of it!

I went to the store today to buy the January True Confession Magazine. I knew from one of my fellow confession writers that one of my stories was in this month's issue, but to my surprise, I have two stories in this month.

If you get a chance, pick up the January issue of True Confessions and read Bride Wanted: ASP and Penniless, Betrayed and Depressed. I can assure you, you won't be depressed after reading that story! I love Bobbi Jo. She has guts.

Tomorrow our new granddaughter will be delivered. I'll let you know how all goes. So you see, Autumn, the baby in the picture, will have a new Aunt. Yep, that's right.

dg


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Thursday, December 14, 2006

dogs and PJ's

dogs in PJ's


When you have a small dog, sometimes they get cold and shiver. Icarus, my 15 lb schaunzer did this a few weeks ago. He also got cold last winter. So last winter I bought him a doggie sweater.

Then I heard that they actually make doggie pajamas! Yes, true. Since the dog store is across the street from where my hubby gets his iron infusions, I decided to go check this out.

I managed to find Icarus and Zeus both PJ's. So I brought them home--Icarus's fit and Zeus' is too big. I'll exchange them next week when we're back in Ormond!

You might think that dogs wouldn't like wearing them, but not true. These two wait at the bed at night for me to put them on them! Well, Zeus is wearing a dog shirt for now until we can exchange his PJ's.

Maggie has a lot of hair since she's a shepherd and doesn't need to wear "sissy" clothes! She probably laughs at them.

We've needed rain here in Florida and boy are we getting it right now! It's pouring and dark out at 5 pm.

By the way, that cute baby in the picture is my granddaughter. She'll be an aunt very soon--on Monday. Life goes by fast, eh?

Gotta run, the grands are here.

dg

Sunday, December 10, 2006

The Perfect Mother

Christmas with kids

Christmas is just around the corner and I must admit to having seen many of them. When I was a small child, we lived in an apartment in Canton, OH. The tradition then was to first decorate my grandmother's tree, then Aunt Mildred's and my dad did ours on Christmas Eve.

We had a sunroom in our apartment and my dad would get a large tree and put all his village pieces and animals around the tree. Christmas was always fun with lots of family around.

Fast forward to my getting married, my hubby in the Air Force and we lived in Indiana. I was pregnant with our third child and was determined to be the perfect mommy that particular Christmas Eve. Hubby had the afternoon shift and I decided to get the kids dressed and we'd go to Christmas Eve services at the church.

After rolling my three-year-old daughter's hair in those little pink foam curlers, I decided to take my bath--we didn't have showers back then in the house we rented. So there I was about 6 months pregnant and I told the two litle ones to play while I bathed. I left the bathroom door open so I could keep tabs on them.

My daughter came running into the bathroom, within five minutes of me being in there, her curlers bouncing, and said, "Mommy! Mommy! Chris has the fish on the floor."

We had a fish tank and after climbing out of the tub and throwing a robe on, I went into the living room to find several fish flopping on the floor. Seems my son had got the little net and went fishing! He was 4 years old at that time.

So after getting the fish back into the water, dressing, getting the kids fed and dressed, we headed off to church. My June Cleaver thoughts were to come home from church, read "Twas the night before Christmas," have cookies and milk and tuck my little angels into bed.

We got to church and I had let Chris take two little matchbook cars along. During the service, he managed to run the cars up the leg of the woman who sat beside him. My daughter continued to stick her tongue out at the people behind us in spite of my warnings that Santa surely wouldn't show up for the two of them if they didn't settle down. And of course, they wiggled and fussed and I was exhausted by the time we got home.

I got them ready for bed and told them to go to sleep or Santa wouldn't bring them toys in the morning.

Then when I was playing Mrs. Santa, I realized something--I FORGOT TO READ THEM THE STORY AND GIVE THEM COOKIES AND MILK! What a dreadful Mommy I was! I just wanted to get them into bed and have some peace and quite.
Of course I felt guilty all night long for not being the perfect mother. Then when hubby got home after midnight, he had to put together the rocking chairs his parents had sent from Ohio.

There seemed to be a problem--some of the pieces were missing. So he got on the phone with his parents to see if they knew where the pieces had gotten to. Of course they didn't and the chairs had to be returned.

Morning arrived a bit too early--like Chris and Michelle were up at 4 a.m., 4:30 am., 5, 5:30 and finally we said "forget sleeping in, let's get up!"

It was a great Christmas and one I'll aways remember. In spite of two kids being not as perfect as the kids in the movies or TV, in spite of the fact that we weren't exactly rich, or that I wasn't the perfect mother. We had family and friends and that's what Christmas is all about.
dg

The Perfect Mother

Christmas with kids

Christmas is just around the corner and I must admit to having seen many of them. When I was a small child, we lived in an apartment in Canton, OH. The tradition then was to first decorate my grandmother's tree, then Aunt Mildred's and my dad did ours on Christmas Eve.

We had a sunroom in our apartment and my dad would get a large tree and put all his village pieces and animals around the tree. Christmas was always fun with lots of family around.

Fast forward to my getting married, my hubby in the Air Force and we lived in Indiana. I was pregnant with our third child and was determined to be the perfect mommy that particular Christmas Eve. Hubby had the afternoon shift and I decided to get the kids dressed and we'd go to Christmas Eve services at the church.

After rolling my three-year-old daughter's hair in those little pink foam curlers, I decided to take my bath--we didn't have showers back then in the house we rented. So there I was about 6 months pregnant and I told the two litle ones to play while I bathed. I left the bathroom door open so I could keep tabs on them.

My daughter came running into the bathroom, within five minutes of me being in there, her curlers bouncing, and said, "Mommy! Mommy! Chris has the fish on the floor."

We had a fish tank and after climbing out of the tub and throwing a robe on, I went into the living room to find several fish flopping on the floor. Seems my son had got the little net and went fishing! He was 4 years old at that time.

So after getting the fish back into the water, dressing, getting the kids fed and dressed, we headed off to church. My June Cleaver thoughts were to come home from church, read "Twas the night before Christmas," have cookies and milk and tuck my little angels into bed.

We got to church and I had let Chris take two little matchbook cars along. During the service, he managed to run the cars up the leg of the woman who sat beside him. My daughter continued to stick her tongue out at the people behind us in spite of my warnings that Santa surely wouldn't show up for the two of them if they didn't settle down. And of course, they wiggled and fussed and I was exhausted by the time we got home.

I got them ready for bed and told them to go to sleep or Santa wouldn't bring them toys in the morning.

Then when I was playing Mrs. Santa, I realized something--I FORGOT TO READ THEM THE STORY AND GIVE THEM COOKIES AND MILK! What a dreadful Mommy I was! I just wanted to get them into bed and have some peace and quite.
Of course I felt guilty all night long for not being the perfect mother. Then when hubby got home after midnight, he had to put together the rocking chairs his parents had sent from Ohio.

There seemed to be a problem--some of the pieces were missing. So he got on the phone with his parents to see if they knew where the pieces had gotten to. Of course they didn't and the chairs had to be returned.

Morning arrived a bit too early--like Chris and Michelle were up at 4 a.m., 4:30 am., 5, 5:30 and finally we said "forget sleeping in, let's get up!"

It was a great Christmas and one I'll aways remember. In spite of two kids being not as perfect as the kids in the movies or TV, in spite of the fact that we weren't exactly rich, or that I wasn't the perfect mother. We had family and friends and that's what Christmas is all about.
dg

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

New Story/dogs

Category: Writing

Hi y'all,

I have a story out in the January True Confessions--Bride Wanted: ASP. If you get a chance, pick up a magazine or order it online.

An update on my dogs:Maggie is a rescue dog. She must've been beat a lot because even when we raise our voices, she slinks away like we're going to hit her.

Zeus could care less, unless you sneeze. Then he runs and hides. Icarus, Mr. Suck-up, loves to push the other dogs out of the way so he gets the attention and not them.

Did I mention that Icarus got out of our fenced-in back yard? We're pretty sure he jumped over the fence. He's 15 pounds and jumps like a cat. He got all excited when he saw the neighbor's dog out and the gates were closed and there were no holes for him to get out of. He jumps really high and also jumps down off the deck--6 feet off the ground.

Speaking of dogs, my oldest son called yesterday to ask if we could go to his place and find the two small dogs. It seems they, too, are escape artists. The dug out from under the fence when they went out in the morning and son couldn't find them. We were at the oncologist office where my hubby gets his iron infusions.

We went to his house in the wilderness and found his dogs locked in the neighbor's back porch. Seems Mr. Moore found them, put them in the fence three times and each time they got out. So he kept them on the back porch where we heard them bark when we called their names. Max is the son of Icarus, so we have no doubt he'll learn to jump fences next. Meanwhile, his mom has taught him to dig undernearth fences!
dg

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Bad Icarus

Oh boy. Icarus is 15 lb of attitude, ya know? Well last night when the dogs went out to do their thing, the next door neighbor's dog must've been out to. They live on 3 acres and we have 1 acre, with half-an-acre fenced in for the dogs to run.

I heard the three monsters barking, so I went out to get them. Zeus, usually the last one in, came first, followed by Maggie. Icarus generally comes right in. But no Icarus. I called and called for him.

Now y'all remember we had that bear drop by recently, so I worried he came and got little Icarus. I got the flashlight and cane and went out into the yard yelling for Icarus and looking for any escape routes. There were none.
About five more minutes went by and all I could think was "that darned dog better not have been taken off by some creature. I just spent $35 on him today getting his haircut and bath."

Then I saw the neighbor's lights on--2 acres over. He yelled, "I think we have your dog over here." He returned the monster who was now dirty.
The next morning I went out and checked for holes or something Icarus could've climbed on to get over. Everything was secure.

Icarus is part cat we think. He jumps off the deck 7 feet off the ground, he jumps half way up the screen door and we assumed he jumped so high that he went right over the fence and into the neighbor's yard! There's no other way he could've escaped.

Now he's being followed around by this lady with the cane that steers him back to the house--and not into the neighbor's yard!

Bad Icarus!
dg

Icarus and the baby

dogs, writing and family
Category: Pets and Animals


It seems my dogs just keep getting into trouble. Today when I got home, my middle dog, Zeus, was in the backyard. Thank heaven it's fenced in! It seems Doug thought he brought him inside before he left for work. The weather was nice, so Zeus was okay--but really happy to see we arrived home.

However, Icarus decided he should beat him up for staying outdoors! Really, if only dogs could talk!

We had Autumn and Ashley over on Friday. Zeus is afraid of babies and steers clear of them. Icarus is curious and keep coming over to get a closer look at Autumn--until she reached over and grabbed his beard!

We're thankful he's very gentle. Although he had a look of terror in his eyes, he never growled or tried to bite. Once we got her to let go of Icarus, he stayed away from her. Once, he sat back when she was in her seat, watched her and made some barking noises. Then he got out of Dodge.

Maggie, the shepard, on the other hand, thinks babies are for mothering. "Come here, I'll wash your face and lick what little hair you have. Hey, maybe it'll grow faster if I lick it--you know--a little Rogain."

We had a nice Thanksgiving at daughter Michelle's in Sarasota. Most of the family was there, but Autumn's grandfather and step-grandmother and step uncle couldn't attend. Their baby is due in a few weeks and step-granny wasn't allowed to travel.

Yeah, this sounds strange, doesn't it? You see, Autumn's pappaw will have two daughters--22 years apart. So at the ripe old age of 6 months, Autumn will become Aunt Autumn to Emma.

Did y'all see Oprah's show on Monday? Need idea she had. Wish we could all do the good those people did.

That's it for now. Y'all take care. Come sit a spell. I might even bake some of those homemade biscuits everyone likes so much.

dg

Friday, November 17, 2006

Fuzzy Perms and dogs

Have you ever got a perm and then looked into the mirror to find out you looked like fuzzy wuzzy? Now this is okay for my curly dog, Icarus. He's supposed to look like fuzzy wuzzy. But I'm not!
So I finally get the courage to return to the beauty shop where I turned into fuzzy wuzzy. They all looked at me and more or less gasped. Now I have to wonder how many people who looked at me shopping at the grocery store turned around and said, "Oh my gawd! That poor woman. Look at her hair!"
On the other hand, had I been Icarus with his cute curls, they'd have said, "Isn't he a cute little teddybear?"
So today, the beauty shop pities me and gave me a treatment to condition my fuzz. And they dye my hair so the golden fuzz doesn't show. Then I'm put under a dryer because blow drying isn't good for me for at least a week. I return home no longer a fuzz head. Nope. Now I'm a shorter version of "FLAT HEAD."
And you wondered why I have no photo? Now you know.
dg

Monday, November 13, 2006

Dee Gatrell's Writing News

This evening my neighbor called to say there was a bear in their trash and he was a good sized bear. We've lived in this house for two years and never had a bear visit before.

So I yelled for my husband to get the dogs into the house quickly.

The bear sightings were called in to me--it's at Dave's house now. Then I'm sitting her on my computer and I hear "kaboom." Ok, I admit I jumped a mile. Hubby looked and there was the bear who pulled out the trashbag from our big trashcan. I doubt he got anything good to eat in there. In fact, I think he was ticked off because when my husband glanced out the window, the bear growled at him.

I called 911 and the operator kept saying, "Now, don't go outside. Stay inside." Is she crazy? Did she really think I'd go outside when there was a bear out there?

I asked if she could give me the phone number of the wildlife office. She said she didn't have it, but in a few minutes she got it. I called them. They said he'd just dump all the trashcans looking for food and then should leave.

Hope someone else had better stuff in their trashcans then we did!

In the morning, my dogs are not going outside until it's light and I'm going out with them. Generally, since we have a large fenced-in yard, I let them go out for half an hour in the mornings. They ain't gonna be happy with mama tomorrow!

dg

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Kid scares dog

I had three of my grandchildren over yesterday. The girls are 14 and 15 and they are happy as pigs in a poke just to either watch TV or use the computer. And then of course, Gammy has to have their special foods that they like to eat.

On the other hand, my 7-year-old grandson is a bit hyper and has a hard time staying tuned into any one thing for longer than two minutes. As for food, he ate two bananas and a PB sandwich. He did have some crackers for a snack. Now, he's as cute as a button and we love him to pieces, but he scares our one dog.

Let me just say that Icarus is 15 pounds of attitude and he loves everyone. He greets you with "Hey, aren't I just the cutest little thing? Pet me, hug me, tell me I'm a good boy." Then he snarls at his brother, Zeus, with, "Get away from here. These people are supposed to like me best." And poor big ole Maggie. She wags her long tail just hoping someone will notice her and not just the little guys.

Icarus got his attention with the grandson. He hugged him, and hugged him, and picked him up. By the end of the day Icarus would look at the boy and slink away--something we've never seen him do before. He'd jump in my lap or anyone's lap just to escape the boy! I swear he let out a long sigh when my grandson left. He liked the 14-year-old granddaughter. The older granddaughter likes cats, she isn't a dog person.

Maggie likes it when someone throws a stick or a ball for her. But then she won't leave you alone. She can play for hours if she has someone willing to play that long. Zeus is happy to go outdoors and chase squirrels or catch lizards or moles--and it's disgusting when he catches the moles and lizards. He's not fast enough to catch a squirrel. As for small boys, he says hi, now leave me alone or I'll jump up and snap your nose--not hard--just to get your attention that you really need to buzz off. Everyone else is okay--just small boys drive him nuts. They want to roughhouse with him.

Well, time to get some work done--like laundry, cleaning the house, and maybe even some writing!

Till we meet again--have a great time.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Bummer

Well, let me try this again. I wrote and I lost it.

The editor of True Confessions is leaving the magazine. Now this may not seem like a biggie to you, but to those of us who wrote for her, it is a biggie. She not only bought our stories, but she encouraged us as writers. And that meant a lot of us. Writing isn't as easy as people may think it is. You put your heart and soul into a piece and then it gets rejected.
Then you start all over again to see about the next thing you write. As writers, we all know that writing is subjective. What you may like, I may hate. So it all depends on who's reading your story/novel as to if it sells.
The editor of TC even called me a few times to tell me she liked what I wrote and to encourage my other writing. And that meant a lot to me.
I really want to wish her the best at whatever she does next.

She has sold a novel to Harlequin. So if you see a book by Nathasha Harris-Brooks--pick it up and buy it. As writers, we all need each other's, as well as our family and friends, support.

As readers, God, we love you. Without you, where would we be?
Everyone have a great day. And when it's not so good a day, pick up a magazine or book and read it. This will help lift your spririts!

Hugs,
Dee

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Dee Gatrell's Writing News

Dee Gatrell's Writing News
November 9, 2006

Last Tuesday I worked at the election poll in Deland and worked as a deputy dog. After more than 13 hours, I was ready to collapse when I got home. My feet and back hurt, but so did most everyone else's. We stayed busy and that was good--means a lot of people voted.
There was one young man--I think of Asian descent--he said it was his first time to vote and he grinned from ear to ear when I congratulated him.
Later, near closing time, we had a mouse that must've wanted to vote. He tried getting in the door, so we closed it. I guess he was looking for food. And he didn't scare easily. He kept coming back to where we were sitting. I took my cane and told him to scat. He looked at me with his beady little eyes and I think he was saying, "Give me some food and I'll leave you alone!" But I didn't have any food.
There was a young boy and girl waiting in the car for their mom to finish voting. The boy--of course--was fascinated and wanted to see the mouse and got out. The girl kept saying, "Close the door! I don't want the mouse in here." As brothers do, he kept teasing her.

I sent off another story to TC--hope they'll like it. Now I need to write more and more!

That's it. Nothing else new

DG

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Dee's life in short

Welcome to Dee's News!
Put up your feet, have a cup of coffee or hot chocolate--or tea if it's your preference--and feel right at home.

I live with my family in Florida. I share my home with my husband, one son and three dogs. The three dogs replaced the three grown children who now live on their own. So okay, some of us are a bit nutty for animals. We have Maggie, a rescue Belgium Shepherd, Zeus, he's supposed to be a minature white schnauzer, but he now weighs 25 lbs. Then there's our 15 pound I-have-an-attitude Icarus, also a white schauzer, who thinks he's king of the household. His favorite hobby is carrying his empty bowl around the house to let us know it's empty. Right now he's in time out. I think he's the one who just caused one of the dogs to yelp. He's known for biting them where it hurts, and then looking all innocent. "What? What did I do?"

Writing is my passion. When I was a child I would write plays and put on puppet shows for my class. My cousins and I would put on shows and charge the neighbor kids a penny to watch us.

Then I grew up and had children and the only writing I did was letter writing--long letters--telling family and friends what had happened since last I wrote. I never thought much about these letters until people started telling me how much they enjoyed reading them, that they were funny. They were? It was simply my life--and I didn't think Chris putting stones in his nose was funny. Or Michelle making faces at people in church was amusing. And then there came holy terror Diana. She couldn't keep her little hands off anything--just had to feel it, touch it. Or Doug--he had a hard time speaking. He knew what he was saying, but we didn't. He'd get frustrated and say, "No! No! Didn't say that." He speaks okay now. Well he should after all that therapy and finally making Michelle stop giving him things until he did more than grunt for them.

When I was 38 I decided to go to college. Actually, my hubby said, "Why don't you go to college?" Why? Because I'm not smart enough for college. So I went and took a creative writing class. Believe me when I say you never want to read the 10 page story all about my son's dog Max. It's hidden somewhere.

College is contagious. You go, you make it through a class. You sign up for another class--or two or three. Before you know it, you're ready to move on to the University. In my case, the University of Central Florida. I received my degree in Journalism with an emphasis on PR/Advertising.

However, in my senior year my hubby was transferred to Ohio--our home state. He had to about tie me to the bumper to get me away from Florida. Besides that, Max had to be put down two days before we left. So it was pretty miserable with three crying women who didn't want to leave Florida and had to leave the dead dog and a son who decided he didn't want to go with us to the snow.

Well, I'm sure for years later he wished he'd had gone with us. Instead, he married. He and his wife turned up in the middle of the night when we'd just moved into our house that was nearly finished. They came to visit. Stayed for five months. Long visit. Ashley was born while they were there. Then they moved back to Florida when she was 5 weeks old.

Never fear. He and Ashley returned to us when she was two years old. And stayed until she was 19. Of course, we all moved back to Florida. Those Ohio winters are miserable.

Meanwhile, I went to work for the Galion Inquirer as a staff reporter. And since none of the kids whom I worked with wanted to do the Farm Page, I took it over as Farm Page Editor. Whatever you wanted to know about pigs or goats--hey, I learned a lot about them. Did you know that they bred Holstein cows bigger so they can produce more milk with less feed? If you want to know more, I wrote a romantic comedy called "Take This Mop and Shove it," based on this rancher who invented them. Of course, he's made up, but a good hero who's mother refers to him as a mad scientist and wants him to quit messing with over grown cows and start his own brood of kids.

Back to Florida we moved and I jumped back into my senior year to complete my degree. Then I took a part-time job working as an educational advisor at Seminole Community College. I eventually worked full time and stayed there for 15 years.

With that came "Death Came to Dinner," a romantic suspense built around a college counselor and the characters who work there.

Also, I wrote "Coming Home" about a woman who moved away from Florida when she learned she was pregnant and was threatened by her boyfriend's father, the senator, that she had to leave or her mother would find herself out of a job and home. She inherits her uncle's groves five years later, gets some spunk and returns to take over the family home and grove. She's reunited with her son's father, who is engaged to someone else when she arrives. Never fear, all romances like to have happy endings.

Meanwhile, I write short stories for the confession magazines. I love doing those. They are fun to write. I'll have Bride Wanted: ASP in the December issue of True Confessions. They may change the title, though. And in January, I will have my story, My Texas husband wasn’t the hotshot he claimed to be. I loved writing this story. It took me back to my days of living in OK where a garden was waiting for me when I moved in. Garden? What was I to do with it? And that nasty old husband of Bobbi Jo's who died in his mistress's bed, his hateful mother who took Bobbi Jo's house and poor Bobbi Jo was left with an old ugly house and a beat up old pickup truck. Read it and find out just what happened to Bobbi Jo. Remember, the titles may be different. But you'll know Bobbi Jo when you meet her.

OK, I've rattled enough for my first blog. Y'all come sit a spell and join me from time to time. I'd love hearing from you. And I promise not to rattle this long again. I'm new at this.

Dee