My friend Bill York, who like me is a hummingbird enthusiast, tells me that the hummers have returned early this year. Bill called the other day to say that he had already seen a pair near his deck. He promptly put up a feeder.
At the end of last year's season my favorite feeder fell and broke, leaving me to search for a new one. I was unable to find a replacement as the season was over and the kind I like were off the shelves. The stores that sell animal products have a selection of various sizes and styles and most of them are pitiful.
Yesterday, keeping in mind that I knew what I wanted, I went hunting. I was in luck. One of the local stores had a 50% off sale on last year's feeders and as it happens they were exactly the kind I prefer. I bought three.
From this time of year until October when the hummingbirds leave for warmer climes, every week or so I can be seen with red-stained hands. This is because I always make my own nectar; 1/4 cup of sugar to 1 cup of water and a tiny drop of red food coloring, and I always manage to get some of the powerful red stuff on my fingers. I heat the water so the sugar will dissolve thoroughly, add the food coloring and when the nectar has cooled down I fill the feeders. I hang them from the pergola above my deck and in the trees in the front yard and then I wait for the hungry little birds to entertain me as they zip in for nourishment.
A few years ago when they were in full summer's activities, and after having tried for weeks to attract these tiny birds, I wrote this little story and I share it with you now.
The Hummingbird Wars
I have finally been successful in coaxing the establishment of a hummingbird population in my yard. The feeder needs regular replenishment. My cats and I are royally entertained by “hummer” antics as we watch them just outside the living room window. Unaware of their diminutive size, hummingbirds are feisty and territorial. They are diligent in their performance of hummingbird business: raising lilliputian progeny and vying for first nectar-drinking rights.
Lately a dominant male has taken to hiding in the philodendron that swings beside the feeder. He is determined to keep others away from “his” food source. It is a constant battle. The moment he takes off chasing one impertinent interloper, another zooms in to steal a meal.
The other day while I was watering the flowers on my deck, the self-appointed proprietor of the feeder confronted me. For a moment, it was a stand-off as we each remained in position, he in midair, I, motionless, not wanting to frighten him away. How often can you stare down such a brave critter? But in a flash a brazen encroacher, unaware of our rendezvous, zipped onto the scene and he and my heroic tenant nearly crashed before my eyes.
An old fable about the hummingbird goes like this: Once there was a great fire in the jungle. A hummingbird, flying at high speed, passed by a lion. The lion, startled, asked him, “Hummingbird, where are you going in such a hurry?”
The hummingbird responded, “I am carrying water, in my beak, to put out a fire in the forest!”
The lion retorted, “But the amount of water you can carry in your beak is so tiny!”
To which the hummingbird replied, “I am doing my part!”
How about you?
Friday, April 27, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Miss Elsa’s Lesson for Writers: What My One-Year Old Great Granddaughter Taught Me About Writing
As I was watching Miss Elsa, my beautiful almost one-year-old great granddaughter, learning to walk, it occurred to me that a process we all take for granted was once a major challenge. And what really impressed me is how she went about acquiring the ability to go from one place to another on her two little legs and tiny feet, limbs and appendages she was hardly aware of to begin with.
I realized that her learning process had some profound lessons for us as writers.
• First, she was single-minded and on-purpose. Once she realized walking was possible, she chose to go everywhere on two feet. Never mind that she often fell down. Unless there was some tight spot she couldn’t get through standing up, she was up trying to walk.
• Second, she is Unstoppable. If someone or something gets in her way, she’ll walk around them or it. And she keeps on going. She’ll walk from the front door to the kitchen to the living room and back again, just because she can.
• Third, she is failure-proof. When she started off she fell down every few steps. She realized, however, that all she had to do was to get up and she could be off on her mission again. Getting up became easy, and falling down became less frequent. Even when she fell in a way that would cause any adult to wince, she just popped right up, because getting up after falling down had become second nature for her.
And you know this is a proven formula for success. We all learned to walk quite well—right?
How Does This Apply To Writing?
First, Be Single-minded and On-purpose. To do this you have to have a goal. For example, “I’m going to finish one short story each month for the next six months and submit each one as I complete it. I will then have my work circulating and greatly increase my chances of becoming a writer who is supported by her/his work and be accumulating credits.”
You have to have a plan to reach that goal—i.e., “I’m going to research the best places to submit my style of work, whether to magazines, literary journals or reviews, or contests.” Become familiar with the best ones likely to accept (and pay for) it.
Seond, Be Unstoppable. If rejections seem unending, learn why. Do you need to be more selective in where you submit your work? Have you sufficiently reviewed the type of material your target publishes? Are you familiar with their audience? Remember the mantra of the four Ss: “Some will, Some won’t, So what, Someone’s waiting (to publish your work).”
Third, Be Failure-proof. Remember that challenges—like “falling down”— are part of the process. Get up and keep on going. In time, the getting up will become easy and second nature and the challenges will become less frequent. Do you need to rework the story? Do you need to develop your character(s) more fully? Are you telling rather than showing? How is your dialogue? Find or develop a really good critique group. Take the best classes in your genre that you can find.
Would you like a little help in getting back into your one-year-old mindset? Keep these points in mind:
• Clarify your goals and set up a step-by-step plan, in writing, to achieve them.
• Get the knowledge you need to improve your skills.
• Seek out support and guidance to acquire what you might be missing.
• Get the marketing insights for your particular kind of work by reading and researching what’s out there.
You must go out on that literary limb and do it—no whining, no excuses. Your success depends on your diligence and dedication, the investment you make in your art and to improving your craft. If you’re willing to do what it takes you can achieve your goal to become a recognized and successful writer.
Credit where credit is due: Many thanks to my son-in-law, Dr. Richard Odessey, for the concept on which this fun article is based.
I realized that her learning process had some profound lessons for us as writers.
• First, she was single-minded and on-purpose. Once she realized walking was possible, she chose to go everywhere on two feet. Never mind that she often fell down. Unless there was some tight spot she couldn’t get through standing up, she was up trying to walk.
• Second, she is Unstoppable. If someone or something gets in her way, she’ll walk around them or it. And she keeps on going. She’ll walk from the front door to the kitchen to the living room and back again, just because she can.
• Third, she is failure-proof. When she started off she fell down every few steps. She realized, however, that all she had to do was to get up and she could be off on her mission again. Getting up became easy, and falling down became less frequent. Even when she fell in a way that would cause any adult to wince, she just popped right up, because getting up after falling down had become second nature for her.
And you know this is a proven formula for success. We all learned to walk quite well—right?
How Does This Apply To Writing?
First, Be Single-minded and On-purpose. To do this you have to have a goal. For example, “I’m going to finish one short story each month for the next six months and submit each one as I complete it. I will then have my work circulating and greatly increase my chances of becoming a writer who is supported by her/his work and be accumulating credits.”
You have to have a plan to reach that goal—i.e., “I’m going to research the best places to submit my style of work, whether to magazines, literary journals or reviews, or contests.” Become familiar with the best ones likely to accept (and pay for) it.
Seond, Be Unstoppable. If rejections seem unending, learn why. Do you need to be more selective in where you submit your work? Have you sufficiently reviewed the type of material your target publishes? Are you familiar with their audience? Remember the mantra of the four Ss: “Some will, Some won’t, So what, Someone’s waiting (to publish your work).”
Third, Be Failure-proof. Remember that challenges—like “falling down”— are part of the process. Get up and keep on going. In time, the getting up will become easy and second nature and the challenges will become less frequent. Do you need to rework the story? Do you need to develop your character(s) more fully? Are you telling rather than showing? How is your dialogue? Find or develop a really good critique group. Take the best classes in your genre that you can find.
Would you like a little help in getting back into your one-year-old mindset? Keep these points in mind:
• Clarify your goals and set up a step-by-step plan, in writing, to achieve them.
• Get the knowledge you need to improve your skills.
• Seek out support and guidance to acquire what you might be missing.
• Get the marketing insights for your particular kind of work by reading and researching what’s out there.
You must go out on that literary limb and do it—no whining, no excuses. Your success depends on your diligence and dedication, the investment you make in your art and to improving your craft. If you’re willing to do what it takes you can achieve your goal to become a recognized and successful writer.
Credit where credit is due: Many thanks to my son-in-law, Dr. Richard Odessey, for the concept on which this fun article is based.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Blackberry Winter
The other day I received an email from my friend Charles McNair. He and his Paste Magazine partner, Nick Purdy, are founding a "media brand" for the South called SCOUT. In the email Charles named the freezing morning a "blackeberry winter morning." I was curious about the phrase and this is what I found: A (mainly Southern) term used to describe a brief period of cold weather that coincides with the time the blackberries are in bloom, (typically in early to mid May). I like the term but detest the cold and my blackberries are most certainly not in bloom.
Nearly all the beautiful azaleas, lilacs and other flowering delights in my yard are pathetic looking after this record-breaking freeze over the last few days. My luscious tropicals, many of which I have nurtured for long years, were moved outdoors for the season by two strong men. They couldn't be moved back in on short notice, they're just too huge. They're wrapped in sheets and plastic but I don't have a good feeling about what the cold might have done to them. I've been reluctant to go and look until the cold snap is done... maybe by tomorrow. I had thought about waiting to move them until after the tenth of April but the weather seemed so lovely... I should have heeded that little voice, now I'm experiencing Mother Nature's little "gotcha."
I'll bet I'll have to replant all my tomatoes, peppers, sweet basil and strawberries.
Nearly all the beautiful azaleas, lilacs and other flowering delights in my yard are pathetic looking after this record-breaking freeze over the last few days. My luscious tropicals, many of which I have nurtured for long years, were moved outdoors for the season by two strong men. They couldn't be moved back in on short notice, they're just too huge. They're wrapped in sheets and plastic but I don't have a good feeling about what the cold might have done to them. I've been reluctant to go and look until the cold snap is done... maybe by tomorrow. I had thought about waiting to move them until after the tenth of April but the weather seemed so lovely... I should have heeded that little voice, now I'm experiencing Mother Nature's little "gotcha."
I'll bet I'll have to replant all my tomatoes, peppers, sweet basil and strawberries.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
This must be Spring!
In The Company of Writers is moving ahead. New webinars are in the planning stages and it won't be long before there'll really be something for everyone. Although our "virtual classroom" has taken just a bit longer than planned due to the editing service having taken longer to deliver than was originally promised. But I'm told that several of the segments are ready to upload and it will hopefully only be a matter of days now before the classroom is in full operation. Check out my website and you'll see.
In the meantime, here's something new, and you can call me a dinosaur, but I've just discovered Photobucket. Of course I signed right up, and above you see the first result.
Here in Atlanta the weather has finally turned warm. There have even been a couple of hot days. Yesterday I spent the day in the kitchen in preparation for last night's houseful of dinner guests for the First Seder of Passover. I prepared huge amounts of everything. There was the pot of my special chicken soup with a ton of matzoh balls and my also special charoset (grated fresh apples seasoned with sweet kosher blackberry wine, a touch of cinnamon and ginger, a breath of lemon juice and chopped pecans). I smoked a leg of lamb and a large chicken in my Big Green Egg, made latkes (potatoe pancakes) and served them with the beautiful pink sugar free applesauce I made and put up last November. There were green beans and carrots and salad, and of course gefilte fish and horseradish. And for my vegetarian long distance husband, I made Mahi Mahi and baked sweet potatoe. We topped it all off with more wine and macaroons.
When I finally realized the house was way too warm, I turned on the A/C only to discover that it was dead. Well, we survived the evening in spite of the too warm dining room and the mountains of food and wine we all consumed. How I love Passover!
I had the pleasure of sharing the Passover experience with two dear friends, neither of whom had ever attended a seder. My good friend, John Naugle, Co-Founder of Atlanta: City of Peace and my dear friend and buddy, prize winning mystery author Fran Stewart. Both were suitably and delightedly touched by the ceremony, the fun and the food.
But last night's star guest was Miss Elsa who'll be a year old on the 19th. She was wearing her "My First Passover" bib. At one point in the ceremony, that point being that it was time to go home and to bed, Elsa's beautiful mother, Teryn, guided her to the afikomen (a token piece of matzoh, unleavened bread, that signifies the haste and hardships of that long ago time). It had been strategically placed on the bottom stair and you'd have thought she understood what was happening. She grabbed it and waved it in the air, squealing with joy. Her ransom price was a stuffed Mamma Polar bear and her twin cubs, one of which was clutching a dollar bill. With love from Grammy (me, her oh-so-proud great grandmother).
Last Thursday was grooming day for my four cats and as I was finishing clipping the claws of my huge white male, he growled a couple of times and pretended to bite. I ignored him and kept going. Suddenly he let me have it with a fierce bite on the fleshy part of my thumb. Wow, did that ever hurt! I cleaned it off, squeezing it a bit to make it bleed so as to cleanse the two deep bite wounds, and went about my business.
By the next day my hand was swollen and in the late afternoon, as I was preparing to go to a cocktail party/fund raiser for Atlanta:City of Peace, I realized that I was in trouble. I hurriedly telephoned a local emergency doctor's office and shortly afterward I found myself lying on a table with an intravenous tube of antibiotic dripping into my vein. This was after they first used me for a pincushion trying to find the right vein. I was informed that if I had waited any longer things would have been far more serious. It took a couple of hours and consequently I missed a great party.
I'm fine now but I'm still taking bolus-sized antibiotic pills and will have to do so for another week. It was both expensive and painful to be such a smart aleck. For females: if you ever have to take antibiotics, it's a good idea to follow them up an hour or so later with acidophilus and some live-bacteria yogurt to avoid a possible yeast infection.
There you have it, my comments about ignoring purrfectly clear cat warnings and my resulting medical advice, and a rhapsodic narration of Passover fun.
Post a note or email me... and Happy Spring.
In the meantime, here's something new, and you can call me a dinosaur, but I've just discovered Photobucket. Of course I signed right up, and above you see the first result.
Here in Atlanta the weather has finally turned warm. There have even been a couple of hot days. Yesterday I spent the day in the kitchen in preparation for last night's houseful of dinner guests for the First Seder of Passover. I prepared huge amounts of everything. There was the pot of my special chicken soup with a ton of matzoh balls and my also special charoset (grated fresh apples seasoned with sweet kosher blackberry wine, a touch of cinnamon and ginger, a breath of lemon juice and chopped pecans). I smoked a leg of lamb and a large chicken in my Big Green Egg, made latkes (potatoe pancakes) and served them with the beautiful pink sugar free applesauce I made and put up last November. There were green beans and carrots and salad, and of course gefilte fish and horseradish. And for my vegetarian long distance husband, I made Mahi Mahi and baked sweet potatoe. We topped it all off with more wine and macaroons.
When I finally realized the house was way too warm, I turned on the A/C only to discover that it was dead. Well, we survived the evening in spite of the too warm dining room and the mountains of food and wine we all consumed. How I love Passover!
I had the pleasure of sharing the Passover experience with two dear friends, neither of whom had ever attended a seder. My good friend, John Naugle, Co-Founder of Atlanta: City of Peace and my dear friend and buddy, prize winning mystery author Fran Stewart. Both were suitably and delightedly touched by the ceremony, the fun and the food.
But last night's star guest was Miss Elsa who'll be a year old on the 19th. She was wearing her "My First Passover" bib. At one point in the ceremony, that point being that it was time to go home and to bed, Elsa's beautiful mother, Teryn, guided her to the afikomen (a token piece of matzoh, unleavened bread, that signifies the haste and hardships of that long ago time). It had been strategically placed on the bottom stair and you'd have thought she understood what was happening. She grabbed it and waved it in the air, squealing with joy. Her ransom price was a stuffed Mamma Polar bear and her twin cubs, one of which was clutching a dollar bill. With love from Grammy (me, her oh-so-proud great grandmother).
Last Thursday was grooming day for my four cats and as I was finishing clipping the claws of my huge white male, he growled a couple of times and pretended to bite. I ignored him and kept going. Suddenly he let me have it with a fierce bite on the fleshy part of my thumb. Wow, did that ever hurt! I cleaned it off, squeezing it a bit to make it bleed so as to cleanse the two deep bite wounds, and went about my business.
By the next day my hand was swollen and in the late afternoon, as I was preparing to go to a cocktail party/fund raiser for Atlanta:City of Peace, I realized that I was in trouble. I hurriedly telephoned a local emergency doctor's office and shortly afterward I found myself lying on a table with an intravenous tube of antibiotic dripping into my vein. This was after they first used me for a pincushion trying to find the right vein. I was informed that if I had waited any longer things would have been far more serious. It took a couple of hours and consequently I missed a great party.
I'm fine now but I'm still taking bolus-sized antibiotic pills and will have to do so for another week. It was both expensive and painful to be such a smart aleck. For females: if you ever have to take antibiotics, it's a good idea to follow them up an hour or so later with acidophilus and some live-bacteria yogurt to avoid a possible yeast infection.
There you have it, my comments about ignoring purrfectly clear cat warnings and my resulting medical advice, and a rhapsodic narration of Passover fun.
Post a note or email me... and Happy Spring.
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