"What Makes a Muskrat Guard His Musk?

“Courage.”

Come on, give the kid a break.

This came down the pike this week and stuck me like a truck. (Toy truck.)

 

The flu comes and goes with the humidity. (Covid19 is a flu.) And the humidity is the opposite of what I would figure. High humidity tends to absorb the water droplets we exhale, thus neutralizing them. Low humidity lets them live longer. In winter, we have LOW humidity. Can you believe it? Cold air sucks the water out of the air.

Summer has higher humidity. You know those humid days of summer?

 

Fascinating. 

 

So, following this train of thought, the prudent thing to do regarding this Covid19 virus is equip your house with a humidifier. 

 

I guess the cheapest would be to boil water on the stove, but don’t burn up your pots. It might be more economical to purchase an actual humidifier that shuts off when the water evaporates away, gives a goodly amount of humidity, 40-60%, is attractive in the house, is quiet, and easy to fill. There is a bonus, it will make your plants happy. I shopped online yesterday to find humidifiers. I would like to find one to sell, but I don’t think I can beat Amazon’s prices. To save you time here’s a couple I thought fit the bill.

Elechomes

That was yesterday after I completed formatting my paperback book.

 

Monday began like this:

 

First things first, replace the bouquet on my desk.

Second, go through some old notes. Last night had been the dark night of the soul.

 

What do you do when you awaken in the middle of the night, thinking that what you want isn’t working?

 

A 16-page manual on how to format the interior of my paperback book sat before me. I hate reading manuals. Nobody wants to buy my book any way I ruminated.

 

I wasn’t a pleasant person to be with that morning. 

 

Abraham says that each morning brings with it the possibility of a fresh start. I didn’t feel fresh. I wanted to bite nails.

 

I read a note I had written long ago: 

 

“It’s the expectations that you have that disappoint you.” 

“Keep your head down and process—you’ll never regret doing what you love.”—

 

Oh. 

 

I opened an email from a reader and read: “The price one pays for pursuing a profession, or calling, is an intimate knowledge of its ugly side.” by James Arthur Baldwin.

 

Thank you, kind person. Are things lining up or what?

 

Thank you, oh great powers that be. No wonder I was procrastinating, I didn’t like the beginning of my story. “Well, change it, stupid. If Celine Dion can sing her song 30 times in a row before it’s a wrap, you can change your book. It isn’t carved in stone, you know.”(Apologies to people who have already read it.)

 

After running Where the Birds of Eden Sing through Grammarly grammar checker chapter by chapter, I shored them up, tightened confusing passages, tried to find every errant “’:,. checked for typos—you know me, I can’t keep my fingers on the correct keys. Dishes stacked up. Hubby went to the store.

 

In the middle of the week I saw the comet in the western sky. Hubby called me outside where we stumbled in the dark (not wanting any lights to obscure our vision) and pointed. I didn’t see anything, but then he gave me a night vision scope, and Wow. It was incredible. And I was talking about comets last week—just out of the blue. I was quite amazed at my reaction for looking at flying projectiles in the vicinity of earth is not my favorite pastime.

 

After that, back to face the dreaded book-formatting manual. I didn’t know that Word had such formatting capabilities like making a Table of Contents, adding blank pages, so each chapter begins on the right side of the page, getting the page numbers correct after they begin on #1 at the beginning of each section. (Amazon wanted sections.) And then solving the problem when they suddenly disappear. What?!

 

Problems solved--I think. I still have a mortal fear that there will be a blank page appearing out of place somewhere in the book. I hit, “Save as a PDF,” and told my husband to never hire me to send up a rocket. I’m not built for it.

 

He said, “Courage.”

 

It’s a wrap.

 

If you don’t read Where the Birds of Eden Sing,

 

You will miss this possible scenario: “Just when you think life is winding down the best is yet to come”

 

You’ll never know Star, the little HIV baby. You’ll never see how two Sara’s twenty years apart find love in the wilds of Africa. You’ll never know how Patrice, a child of Africa, popped on the scene and ran with the story. And you’ll never know why in the world someone would offer two million dollars for a painting. 

 

That would be a shame.

 

So, how was your week?

 

Love your brothers and sisters, we’re all in this together,

Jo

 

 

Hope

“Comet Lovejoy releases as much alcohol and sugar as 500 bottles of wine every second.”

 

Comet wine, now there’s a product. Catching the comet, though, that’s the tricky part.

 

You can tell I’m file clearing. I ran into some old notes and found out about comets. It’s not pertinent to this blog, but fun. I didn’t remember that comets contain sugar and alcohol. I did remember that the planet Jupiter protects the earth from flying asteroids. Because of its size and gravitational pull, it sucks up space debris. Thank you, Jupiter.

 

Maybe I do have a point, remember Hale-Bopp, the comet pulled into Jupiter in 1997? It was discovered by two amateur astronomers, Hale and Bopp.

 

You don’t have to be a whoopee-do PhD, a BS, MS, MBA or M.S, to accomplish great things. 

 

I know you have it in you to create something tremendous. 

 

Who would have thought a black man could be elected as President of the United States. 

 

In 2009, the moment Barack Obama won the U.S. Presidential election, my daughter and I whooped and jumped up and down. Well, we jumped as much as an eight and one-half month pregnant woman can jump—her, not me.

 

It was the dawning of a new age, we thought, a monumental day. Daughter Dear had even named her new kitten Hope, Obama’s slogan. (Remember Hope, our Oregon cat transported to Hawaii?)

 

In Hawaii, Hope had free run of 20 acres and would run up the tree beside the lanai, jump onto the roof, and kitty-patter across it. At the close of her exercise session, she would come in the window we left open. Oh, we left all the windows open but didn’t repair the hole in one screen. That was left for Hope. (More in The Frog’s Song.)

 

Hope.

 

Maybe there is a hole somewhere where Hope for us can come in.

 

Hope that we will survive this present scare stronger than before.

 

Hope that black and white and yellow, red and green, will see each other as equals. And we will see men and women equal in value.

 

OMG, last night, I listened to Whitney Houston sing, Dolly Parton’s song, “I Will Always Love You,” Tremendous. It’s still ringing in my ears.

 

My desire here is to blog and help people Survive and Thrive, and part of thriving is to have hope, to appreciate, to be grateful, to laugh, and to have fun.

 

I’m grateful we bought this house four years ago. One reason is that every spring, it gives me continual bouquets for about three months.

Red Lucifer Crocosmia,                   Oragano                                              Pink spirea

Appreciate the flowers, it's better than watching the news which can get under your skin like a cockle burr. I know once in a while I get into world conditions. The promised land is still out there, pulling us toward it, waiting for us to claim it.

 

This is a time of awakening to our true nature, which isn’t being small, but thriving, magnificent human beings capable of cleaning up the world, our resources, politics, and our psychological hang-ups. (I dream big.)

 

Do you believe things happen for a reason, or are events thrown at us randomly?

 

Yesterday as I was reading AARP magazine. Yep, we get it, I thought that perhaps this lock down will make us more resourceful. For example, they told what to do if you are alone and choke on a morsel of food. Double up your fist place it right in the V of your rib cage, and with the other hand, PUSH HARD AND FAST.

If that doesn’t dislodge the bite, throw your stomach area over the back of a couch. You may already know this, but embed it in your memory, so you’ll remember in moments of crisis.

 

During this moment of upheaval, we have an opportunity to clean up our own acts. But I know how that goes, you declare something for yourself, like you will be more patient, or kind or loving, and what happens? 

 

The opposite comes up. You fly off the handle. You yell. (Oh, is that just me?) It’s like, “Don’t think of a white elephant in the room."

 

It’ll happen. You'll think of the white elephant. I have a horrible picture I accidentally saw that dropped me to my knees. Late at night as I am about to fall asleep my brain likes to show me that picture. It’s that old lizard brain afraid it’s losing control and throws a tantrum. But you can win out over a little old lizard, you're a Mammoth.

 

 

P.S.

A funny thing happened on the way to my store. 

 

I sold three items for $30.00, and it cost me $30.71. I dumped those suppliers, maybe it wasn't their fault for I wasn’t charging enough, and I went with free shipping—that can eat up the profit.

 

Back to the drawing board. 

 

After hearing a comment from Celine Dion, who said she sang her song 29 times and told the producer, “Don’t you think I got it in 29 times?” He said, try once more. The 30th was the hit.

 

I don’t know how anyone could sing the same song 30 times with the energy she puts into her voice, but that’s a professional.

I used to think all my drafts meant I was stupid, (Like in my eBook Where The Birds of Eden Sing). Now I see I am incrementally working my way up. I do need to submit the manuscript for the physical book by the end of the month and I'm scared.

 

Regarding Jo’s Store, Books, and Coffee,

 

I always wanted a bookstore. Perhaps not always, but the idea of drinking coffee and reading while curled up on a cozy couch on a beautiful patio gets my nerve-endings quivering.

https://jos-storebooksandcoffee.com

 

“The author and the reader know each other: they meet on the bridge of words.”—Madeleine L’Engle