#IWillMarch on March 24, 2018

Hey everybody,

Like many of you, I have two amazing kids I've been lucky enough to raise into pretty decent human beings, if I do say so myself. We've lived through thick and thin, good times and rough times, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. If you aren't a parent, it's difficult to describe the bond a mother has with her children. I know some parents aren't close to their kids, but I am. That's why, when I see mass shooting events at schools or other places where children are affected, I have a visceral reaction.

I feel very lucky our lives haven't been touched by gun violence, but every time I see children murdered in this country, I'm reminded that it's only luck that's gotten us by. If a child in suburban Florida or Texas or Nevada or Connecticut or Alabama can be shot at school, then it could happen anywhere. At any school. To any child. If I ever had to bury a child, my life would be over. I can't even imagine.


Many people in my community participate in subsistence hunting. They actually feed their families with game meat they catch. Those responsible hunters don't worry me. It's the irresponsible gun owners that do. The ones that don't lock their guns up. The ones that think guns are toys to play with. The ones that like to shoot exploding targets in the desert and leave the garbage behind when they leave. Guns are tools and weapons, but they are not toys. Too many Americans have forgotten that.

On March 24, I'm joining the Boise March For Our Lives to bring attention to the fact that we need common sense gun regulations in America. It's way past time. I'll try to post some pics on the blog from the March. I hope that wherever you are that day, you'll participate too. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain for the next generation. Let's make Never Again more than a hashtag.

I truly believe #LifeisGood :)

I didn't personally know Tina, but I do believe in her motto #LifeisGood and I love sunflowers too, so I'm joining the Sunflower Blogfest in her honor. This bad boy is standing out in my garden right now, probably twelve feet tall. We may not know how much time we have in this world, but I hope we can all find time to savor the little joys that find us each day.

Like a nice bath..

 

Or a nice writing buddy...

 

 

~Wishing you Peace and Sunflowers my friends ~ this day and always~

 

Grandma's Garden

I'm always outside trying to "garden" this time of year. It's April in Idaho again, which could mean sun, wind, rain, or snow. Today was blowing like a biscuit-eating basketball player! and I was planting gladiolus blubs. I bought them on a whim at the store because glads always remind me of my grandmother. 

Years ago, she had a huge flower bed in front of her house filled with roses and glads. Of course, she lived in North Carolina, so all she had to do was throw them in the ground.

I glanced at the package when I got ready to plant and I noticed hardiness is "Zone 8-10". Now, I'm lucky if I'm sitting in Zone 5 here. I'm probably closer to Zone 4, but I just don't care. I want glads so I planted them. Maybe they'll bloom this summer? Maybe a few will even make it through the winter.

They always say to plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.  In Idaho, to plant a garden is to believe in miracles~

October 20 ~ Another Milestone Reached

Well, Saturday behind us, I can now say I've had a real book signing in a real bookstore.  (My first signing was a bust because the store didn't receive the copies in time.)  Here's the pic to prove it...

That's my Hannah, who wandered the store, perusing manga books to buy, pestering strangers to check out my book, and bugging me for Starbuck's frappachinos. She's great support.  And then there's my super fan!

 

Obviously, she's a dear friend of mine, pictured here with four of the five copies she bought as gifts. She makes my day every time I see her.

 

Probably my favorite person of the day was the six year old girl that stopped by, not to look at the book, but to ask where the bathroom was. What a cutie!  I gave her bookmark. And then there was the lady who asked me all about writing children's books and getting published, but didn't buy a book. Oops! That's ok. The book isn't for everyone. I'll just say my favorite authors are the ones who support other authors. Have a lovely Sunday~ I hope you have time to pick up a book. :)

Blog #8 "Off to Camp” or “The Importance of Travel”

Well, my Hannah bee is off to Sawtooth camp this week.  Her brother Ryan is excited he gets the TV all to himself!

at the Sawtooth Fish Hatchery~

 

When Hannah gets back we’ll be off on our trip to Oregon. After that, she gets a week at home and then she’s on the road to Grandma’s for a week or two. She’s a busy girl.  School starts August 19, so she doesn’t have much time left to fit it all in, but it’s good for her. Travel is good for all of us actually.

Redfish Lake~

I know, you’re saying, “it’s expensive” or “I don’t have the time”, but it doesn’t have to be very far or very long to have a benefit.  Seeing new things and having new, out of the ordinary experiences energizes us.  When we’re little, everything is new and exciting to us. As we get older, we tend to fall into a rut, mostly because of our daily obligations. If we let ourselves stay in that space too long, we get tired and sometimes cynical.  We have to break out of routine every so often to keep ourselves sane.

Sawtooth Valley, Idaho~

My mom came to visit recently and we took several day trips. None of them were more than two hours away, but it was nice to get out of the house and see some new scenery for a change. I want to challenge you this summer to go somewhere you’ve never been.  Then come back and tell me how much you loved it because I know you will ;)

Climbing the Fiction Mountain

A little further along the trail, in a thicket of evergreens so big you couldn’t put your arms all the way around them, we came to a monument for a group of girl scouts and their leader who were struck by lightning on that very spot years ago.  The trail grew steeper.  In places, stairs had been made with tree roots and flat stones, and my thighs began to complain.  Soon, the cave came into view, a great maw of an opening in the Earth, like a yawning mouth still high above us.  A waterfall spilled out of it from some hidden spring deep inside, cascading down the steep rocky slope.

Last fall, I went on a writing retreat to Victor, Idaho. I thought I would spend lots of time reworking and revising my book, which I did do, but I also went on a hike with an old college friend, Stephanie.  Stephanie lives in Victor, which is probably fortunate in the summer, but I don’t envy her too much in the winter. Brr!  The town lies on the Idaho side of the Grand Tetons, just west of the tourist craziness of Jackson Hole.  Anyway, I told Stephanie I would be in town and would like to take a hike somewhere.  What I imagined as a short nature hike turned into a four hour trip to Wind Cave.

It was a coolish, misty day in October before the weather turned truly winterish, but the trees had already lost their fall colors.  Stephanie drove us to the trailhead in her Subaru, several miles into the forest.  We bundled up and started up the trail.  It twisted through a grove of pines, past giant boulders worthy of a Hobbit film.  As we passed the tree line and came out into an open, rocky cirque, it began to drizzle a bit.  We took shelter in a small overhang and Stephanie showed me the swirling fossils in the gray rocks, the remnants of an ancient sea.  We shared a granola bar and talked about our children while we waited for the shower to pass.
More primitive man-made steps, only a foot square, led up to the mouth of the cave.  My fear of heights kept me from looking back.  Going up the stairs wasn’t so hard for me, but I wondered how I might get down.  A misstep here might mean a fall that went on for a long way.  Crossing the stream, the boulders icy from the freezing temperatures the night before, frightened me too.  We clambered up into the cave on slick, wet rocks and turned around to see the view of the misty valley far below us.
In fiction and in life, it’s always amazing how far you’ve come when you stop to consider it, when you look back at the obstacles you’ve overcome.  Sometimes there are set backs on your path. Sometimes there is fear, danger even. But sometimes, there is beauty and awe. And it is all worth it.

To Garden is to believe in tomorrow~

This is it, my empire of dirt, my garden. Every year around this time, I start dreaming of growing things- planting spuds, like any good Idahoan, and peas and lettuce and such. So I’m in my garden, assessing the scene of last year’s crime. In 2011, my garden was a disaster. I was away from home, working another job, and nothing was planted at the right time. No soil was tilled, no weeds pulled. As I sweated with my shovel yesterday, digging out crazy-huge weed carcasses, I realized I didn’t have much of a veggie garden last year, but I was growing something else instead. I’ve been growing myself. And the more I dug and thought, the more I realized I’ve grown more in the last year than I have in a long time, stretched myself in ways I didn’t imagine I would. What did I do?

I took a class.

I’ve blogged about this before, but I took a leadership class through work. The value of the class wasn’t the actual training, although it was excellent. The real value was that I met some incredible human beings who were and are on the same journey I’m on. To be able to share that experience with them was truly an honor. And though I’m not physically close to any of them now, we keep in touch and I know they’re thinking about me.

I self-published two books.

I’ve blogged about this too. I wrote a fairy story nobody in publishing wanted and I couldn’t let it lie in a drawer. I never expected it would be a best seller, but I wanted to share it with people, so I did. I overcame a fear to do it and I can’t help but feel proud of it.

I placed among the finalists in a writing contest.

As a result of that placement, I got a request for a full manuscript and threw myself into an unlikely writing project. I took the project to a novel revision retreat and met the indomitable Wildcats, another new tribe I had the privilege to join. The Wildcats are a group of ladies whose zest and enthusiasm for writing outshines my own, and it’s contagious. I let myself be critiqued and learned how to become a better writer for it. At least I hope I have. So I have worked hard at writing this year, giving up almost all TV in fact.

I started social networking in earnest.

I don’t social network to the degree that some do, but at my own pace. On Facebook, I reconnected with people I knew eons ago, who actually remember me and graciously allow me glimpses into their daily lives as if we never skipped a beat. And I connected with new friends too, with Wildcats and leaders and writers.

On Twitter, I’ve made friends truer than I ever would have thought possible. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 800 people now “follow” me (for some reason I cannot fathom). I can only assume they, too, are compatriots on the same journey I am, to reach out to others, to pay it forward, to share joys and sorrows with, to laugh and cry with. Twitter has been a wonderful reminder for me that there are kind, gentle souls on this planet like me. It’s restored my faith in humanity.

I traveled.

Because of the class I took and the retreat I attended, I was fortunate enough to visit Denver, Phoenix, Washington DC and Ashton, Idaho. I also went to Salt Lake City last fall and Albuquerque this spring. I’m convinced every American should see their capital at least once. For me, traveling meant not only new places and new sights, but new joys and more new friends.

I connected with my dad again.

I’ve talked to my dad more in the last four or five months than I probably have in the last four years. I’m not proud of that, but I’m thankful I have the opportunity to talk to him. Love you Dad.

I don’t tell you all of this to brag, but maybe just to encourage you to stretch, to move, to go somewhere you’ve never been, to friend someone you may never meet and to love life like crazy, to grow your garden.

I’m about to submit that manuscript. Maybe the agent will want to represent me. Maybe not, but that really doesn’t matter. What matters is I grew my garden and I blossomed. I hope you will too.
Peace,
Lisa