You Lovely Bunch

I reached out a couple of weeks ago to some bloggers and writers I know for advice on applying for writing gigs. Paid ones. Not all this *flipping hand around* free stuff I do. Don’t get me wrong. This is one of the best things I’ve done in my life. I’ve had my words received by you folks in a good light. I get to (read those words: GET TO) make you smile, laugh (hopefully), maybe even think a bit. You make me feel less alone. I hope I do the same for you.

I love it. We interact. I learn from you all. This group, you guys, the bloggers, the writers, the commenters, well, it just stuns me that you take the time to come over here. I’m honoured. I thank you for taking the time while I learn this *hand flip*. I thank you for accepting me into your (in)box. I thank you for reading about my pms, tampons and disturbed, problematic, I’m-going-to-shit-my-self-to-death colon journeys. Wow. Really, if I’d talked about this with a group of strangers, I’m sure they would have done the wooden, wide-eyed OMG smile and ran away. But you, you tenacious little bunch, you listen and share your own shit stuff.

I’ve had a couple of moments where I thought I might quit this. Stop. Get a “real” job. Stop all this dreaming. Stop the nonsensical bullshit (I should get that tattooed somewhere). Then you guys *wagging finger with a smile*, you guys gallop in and read me! How can I leave you? Who would I talk to?

Well. It’s Desperately Grateful Thank You time. In no particular order,

Jewels at A cheerleader, a source of writing advice, a friend. She writes what she feels with no apologies. Her fiction is brilliant. She’s funny, whip-smart and you’ll love her. She gets a spot in my bunker when the Apocalypse happens. I can see us now, shoulder to shoulder, shooting zombies while the men folk cook and clean…sigh.

The Rev.Paperboy at . This man took the time to read everything I’ve written, in one night. I think he was drunk. But I asked for his help, and bang! There he was. He couldn’t make up his mind what posts he liked best, so he was sort of useless to me, but I’ll always be grateful. I’ll buy Cuba for us to start a new country someday.

Nicole at You think I’m funny? You.are.drunk. Now sober up and go read her. She is hilarious, and so witty you’ll never come back here. She also sent me her advice and good wishes on applying for that job. And she has four kids! When does she sleep? She might be on crack but I love her.

Kevin at . He’s a dry wit and a damn fine writer. He’s also a master of logic. I’m having a hat made that holds a couple of beer for him that says that so everyone will know. (And he won’t need to go to the fridge so often. Logic, see?)

Bea Schooled at She makes me snort laugh every time I read her. I can’t even explain the humour and wit and the scary good Photoshop skills she has. And she’s always helpful and promotive. Just go there. Run! You’ll thank me.

I have nothing to give you, except a big old bear hug atwixt my boobs!

Oh wait. There’s this.

The First EVAH One Odd Duck Award for not being a cut-throat bitch! Because NONE of you are. I don’t think so. I guess you might be but you’re not to me so YOU GET AN AWARD!!!

Grab it, put it on your blog if you want, Facebook, make a purse (I’m thinking one of those fake tattoos, right in the middle of my forehead so everyone will know). Or just leave it here, to come and bask in the awesomeness of it all. *Sigh* Thanks, Kathy!

Oh and this:

Just so you know, I had this EXACT outfit when I was 13. Same hair, too. So it’s almost like I’m singing to you. Yes, let’s go with that.

I love you all. Thanks.


The other day my son and I decided to take a different route home. We do that sometimes. Just find a new road and see where it leads. I glanced out my window and saw this;


It’s just out of the ditch, no discernible home nearby. Not in a pasture, just in a bluff of trees. Someone’s old homestead. Why would anyone plant geraniums there? They were all alive and had obviously been tended. Why?

Well, for me. And my son. And now you. A random act of beauty just to make every person passing by smile.

My son and I talked about it. He thought he’d like to make a sign.

Thanks, stranger!

Sometimes the best things are the ones that surprise you the most.

Happy Thanksgiving.