I've recovered from the distruction of my flowers and have seen no more evidence that it will continue. So it was a isolated incident. I hope.

Last weekend,  I spent it at a fair with a friend who is a artist. I knit hats and sell them. Our booths were next to each other, so we could help each other out. It was a interesting experience, with the economy the way it is. Saturday was slow. A lot of looky loos, and I began to think I wouldn't even make back my space fees. My friend felt the same, as the crowds passed us by. We knew we weren't alone, since all the vendors were singing the same tune. No sales. it seemed like it was more like one large block party with everyone wine tasting, holding beers, with the usual drunks.

Like a miracle, late Saturday I sold several felted hats. Actually my more expensive decorated hats sold. It was fun people watching as I waited and wondered. This is my hobby, one I hope will pay me back at least for the amount of money I've put into it. Which as businesses go hasn't been much. It's a been expensive at times, and very time consuming. Still, I do it, because I love to knit and create.

Sunday came, and the crowd changed. It was older, calmer, the party atomsphere of the day before settled into more serious people who were out for a stroll. I sold all my childrens hat, and several of my large felted hats. I made back my space fee, and made a profit. It will take several successful fairs to make back my investment. 

The best part of the fair was people watching. The range of people was amazing. I had an old drunk hippy tell me about another four day love fest, where she said my hats would fly off the shelf. I didn't know they had those anymore. A love fest? Hmmm....Having been there, and done that 40 years ago, I don't care to revisit it again, even to improve my business and sell my hats. Looking back it wasn't fun the first time around, so there really isn't reason to go back in time and get lost in the 60's.

Than there were the young couples complaining about prices on everything. Well, then don't buy them. As I told one woman, I make these by hand with high quality yarn. Nothing is machine made. So yes, I ask a higher price then the one in the store, that are mass marketed from sweat shops in China. I won't even buy yarn from China.

Anyhoo, it was a adventure. I'll be doing another one in a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to it. Even if i don't sell much its always fun.

How I love my flowers!  And as you can see they are beautiful. But something happened to them this week that disturbed and angered me. I returned home after spending a couple of days with my son’s family and found all my roses growing in my side yard, torn from the bushes and tossed on the ground and against the fence. I had one bush loaded with beautiful white roses all but three were ripped from the bush. I could go on and on, about the distruction I saw in my side yard, and the disappointment and heartache over such a senseless act. My iris’ that are close to front of the house went untouched, probably because of their location.

I’ve caught kids trying to pick my roses in the past. Usually I’ll tell them to knock on the door and I’ll get my clippers and give them the rose. I’m flattered by anyone who wants to share the joy of my flowers. Last year I caught a young couple of about 16years old, picking my flowers, again, I grabbed my clippers and cut the young girl, whom the boy was trying to give one of my flowers too, a bouquet. She was thrilled, and he was relieved I didn’t yell at them. I did explain to them what happens to the stems when they just rip the flowers off.

But this was pure mean unnecessary distruction.

I spent twenty years in Law Enforcement and saw a lot of young angry people, who start out destroying something as simple as flowers to let it fester and grow into something larger and far more critical.

I repaired my bushes. One had to be cut back hard because of the damage. I know they’ll bloom again. But what is heart wrenching is this was the first real bloom and it was spectacular. My heartbreak came from how the assault was so unnecessary and unprovoked.

I have no problems with any of my neighbors, and know their kids. My grandchildren play with them when they are with me. Most likely it was someone I don’t know, who doesn’t know me and just simply decided in the moment to commit a random act of violence against flowers. I hate to see what happens when that individual really gets upset with someone in their orbit. It gives me chills to think about it.

This weekend was my Granddaughter's birthday party. It was a huge bash of 60 or more at one of those jumper places. It was fun, crazy and well originized. We went from room to room, as the kids jumped and slid down giant blow up jumpers. They had a blast, and so did I. There was plenty of pizza, veggies, and fruit, the perfect birthday cake decorated with the Disney princesses. Yes it was perfect, and my daughter was a nervous wreak over it, and was happy when it was all over.

Why?

Because it had to be perfect or she'd be the subject of cruel gossip among her many professional, highly educated, PHD, upper class friends. Later, she told me she couldn't bear being the subject of such redicule. I asked her, would it changed the friendships, because if the answer was yes, then she needed to find new friends. She answered me no, at least on the surface. Instead, they'd invite her to their kids birthday, and do it even better, making sure Little Johnny had the shinning example of how a B-day party should be done; since she's so seriously out-of-sink with their yuppy world. There would be lots of comparisons of good and bad. My grandduaghter's would be the shinning example of how to fail at such a important affair as a 3rd b-day.

I sat and visited with many of these mommies, and got the feeling that they were sizing me up. I chatted with Doctors, college professors, and therapist. All of them humming the approval tune over my granddaughter's party. I just sat and munched down veggie pizza and more viggies, drank soda, and talked about how these big ole birthday bashes were a new thing for me. Since when my daughter was growing up, nothing like this was done or around.

I watched these women watch me and wondered as old hippies how did we raise such stuffed shirts, including my own daughter. How did the expensive educational toys, best schools, pre-schools and scheduled out days for a two year old came about. How did this happen, considering we were the love generation who fought against the man and schedules. Where our kids now, are the ones who have flex schedules and over scheduled kids, including during a b-day. Everything was scheduled right down to the minute we had to leave the place after the cake cutting and present opening; which was all educational toys, of course reflecting the givers profession. I was surprised my granddaughter didn't get a therapy couch.

When we all went back to my daughter's, at least her family. She breathed a sigh of relief. It went perfectly, and she dodged the gossip and shunning bullet. When we went through each gift, even without cards attached she knew who gave her what, just by what it was, knowing everyone's personality and profession. It was all to much work for me, and stress to be worrying about what  anybody thought.

My kids grew up going without a lot of things because I was a single parent. I didn't care what anybody thought I should be doing, because I did the best I could. If the local mommies didn't like it, oh well, they could go pound salt. Which I wish my daughter would stand up and tell her friends the samething. But to fit in she won't. She fits right into the mold, as a upper class, well educated professional, with a PHD. I guess there is someone out there who will stress when she arrives at their kids party, ready to take notes, and judge by how big, how originized the party turned out.

I hope its not that way, but I fear it will be. I told to avoid this, just don't have anymore parties, except for family.

As a grandparent have you ever experienced this?

Changing Direction

I’ve had this blog for about a year now. Although my statistic shows on some days I get 10,000 hits. Unless my counter lied. With that, I’ve decided to change directions, because out of the 10,000 I rarely get a comment. Which tells me I’m a bit boring. Okay a lot boring.  Or it really wasn't 10,000.

Originally, it was for my writing. As a writer I was told, “You have to have a blog. You have to get your name out there.” Well, I’ve done that with Chasing Heroes, which has brought more success and response than this one. So I decided to change directions, to move away from writing about my boring struggling with writing, and do something different, write about my life with nine grandkids. Yes I said nine! With the tenth one arriving in August.

My struggle with being a 50 something grandmother at times is frustrating, comical, and loving, but never dull. And right now, I’m not sure who I’m telling this too. I hope to another grandparent out there, who might need to know we are out there. And were all in the same boat, trying to maintain sanity we had to maintain while raising the parents of the wonder-kins, known as grandchildren.

This struck me yesterday as I surfed around the web looking for sites dedicated to grandparenting. I found a few, there wasn’t much. I think reason being, not many grandparents know how to blog or create a website. It was a struggle for me. And I still struggle with it. But I fought my way through the complications of building something I thought was “pretty”. I completely crashed it a couple of times, and had to rely on my son to help me get things up and running again. He’d roll his eyes at me, (much the same way he did when he was a teenager) and commented, “I think you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Ya, think!

I’m completely perplexed by computers. My grandkids can run them better then I can. They can’t imagine a world without them. Where I lived without them for most of my life and know it wasn’t so bad. Like I did during the sixties, where I fought against the man, I struggle against the machine that dominates our lives, even mine. I manage to get it up and going and am determined to win the battle of ignorance with this scary machine.

Following the advice of my writing friends, I wrote about writing for about a year, I think. Only to find I don’t have much to say on the subject, that isn’t already being said by everybody from bitches to bitches. And I’m not being rhetorical about it; it’s the name of the several sites on the web dealing with books, writing and reviews. Everyone wants to bitch or be a bitch.

Me, I don’t have much to bitch about. The writing world is what it is, an inexplicable mess of different rules, especially for romance writers, that changes as often as the climate. And everybody has something to say about it, except me. I just kind of go with the flow, since I’m not published yet, and don’t have much of a choice. One of the reasons I haven’t been published is my writing isn’t strong enough, and I refuse to follow the rules. I want something different. The old hippie in me is still alive and well, at least in my attitudes towards writing. Yep, I’ll burn a bra on a publisher’s door step, to make a point and break a rule, and just to break a rule. It makes me feel young again. 

Or at least in my imagination every time I get a rejection letter. Which everyone in the writing world has experienced at least once. There is a few rare cases of getting it right the first time, but very few.

So yesterday, while my grandson napped, and gave me a moment to relax I started to look through different data bases searching for a blog about grandparenting. What I found was fun, a little too positive, and not very realistic, at least in my view of life. Since everything thing I read, made little Johnny the perfect child. I love my grandkids, but perfect they are not. My two year old grandson hit me the other day. My response, I hit him right back. It broke his heart. I doubt it even stung, since it was a big 'NO', and little smack on his hand. Still, I doubt he’ll do that again. So I hope to bring to light the true nature of grandparenting, it isn’t a piece of cake, its not always fun, but we still love them and the process of it all.  

If you're a grandparent, share with me. What frustrates you?

My new commitment to my writing is paying off. I brought my Alpha smart with me to my son's, and in the evening when everyone was in bed, I wrote. I've managed about ten pages over the past couple of days. For those of you who write, you'll know that is a big deal when your struggling to write at all. I love my story, love to write, but can't seem to find the time to put into it. I have to ask myself how badly I want this,? And I do want it. So I steal time when ever I can find it, which is when I'm with my son and his family to babysit, is late at night. I just have to keep this up. I've set a goal for myself, and its to have this ms, completed by fall. Its a women's fiction, taking place in 1307. Although romance is more popular, I've recently read some really good historical women's fiction. There is a market for it, I just have to find it.

I've also formed a new critique group with a couple of writing buds. I have another group I go to once a month, and am going to return to the evening group this week. When I first went to the thursday night group it was mostly senior citizens, more senior then me. A friend of mine encouraged me to return because it has actually gotten younger, and one of the members just got a big book deal. I hope some of the luck rubs off on me.

I'm over at Chasing Heroes today, with a profile on Harry Potter, go take a look. I loved the books, but wasn't as big a fan as many I know, still he drew us to the stores and to reading. Last year when I was in Edinburgh, I saw the place where J.K Rowling sat and wrote the book, because she couldn't afford to heat her apartment and write. Well, it was a coffee shop, but now is a chinese restaurant. That was disappointing.

Here I am again potty training in my golden years. I babysit two of my grandkids twice a week, and sometimes, take my granddaughter at the same time to help my frazzled daughter out. Well, my two year-old grandson, and my two year-old granddaughter are in the potty training vase of their little lives. Never thought I'd have to do this again. But here I am, constantly askng one or the other, if they need to go potty. My granddaughter is better at it then my grandson, who has yet to get the message. But my granddaughter you've got to keep a eye on or she'll get to busy playing or just plan tired and wet her pants. So when they're together, I have to constantly remind one or the other about going potty.On monday when I had all three of my young grandkids, I set a timer, every hour we all marched to the bathroom to go potty, need it or not. it worked. No messes. I love granparenthood, but at times it trying. I feel for those grandparents who are rasing or live with grandkids. I love mine to death, but I'm always happy to leave them for my own house and bed on Tuesday night. But then my relief won't last long, because I help out my divorced son with his three teenage sons, and his preteen daughter. Oh, well its what I signed up for, combat duty.  I feel asleep with the phrase, "Do you want to go potty" floating around in my head.

My struggle to write, to knit, and exercise still is a challenge. I rise before 6:00a.m to go the gym. That’s so I can get home early to write for a couple hours before hubby is up and needing my attention. Then, I spend the rest of the day cleaning, cooking, knitting, trying to write some more, running errands, giving friends and family attention, and hubby. Then, it’s time to cook dinner, trying to write more, knitting and on a good day, spinning. Now that its springtime, the yard is in need of some major clean up and new planting, another thing to add to my list of to-do’s.  

Damn just reading this makes me tired.

My main focus right now is my writing, and weight. I went to the gym three times this week, and will ride my bike tomorrow. What will count for today, hubby and I are going to clean windows. That’s a real choir in its self, and going up and down the ladder is great for the butt.

So I continue to struggle, continue to write, continue to watch my diet and exercise, all with a lot of effort and self-discipline. None of it is easy. Since I’ve come to that conclusion, my ability to complete these tasks and meet my goals, appear off in the distance. I just had to tell myself it’s not easy, and never will be. I just need to want it bad enough to work for it. Not just work, but work hard and sacrifice for it.

The friend who I had to let go recently wrote me a letter. I just stared at the envelope for a long while, feeling the old pull of emotions she drained from me every time I was around her. After I ended the relationship, I could feel the relief of no longer having to go through the exhaustion I often felt after I spent a day or even a few hours with her. She was in essence, a spiritual vampire. I continued to stare at the envelope, feeling the drain.

I tore it in half without reading it and threw it away. I’m not angry, but just had to finish this. If I read it, it would prolong and continue the demise of our friendship. I let it all go for good, removed her out of my phone, e-mail list and life. I had too. It was the only way I could be released from the drain she put on me emotionally. My friends, my family and I know her, are surprised by what I have done. I’m usually much more tolerant. But when it came down to it, I wasn’t doing her any favors by continuing to allow her excuses for abusing my trust and our friendship. I hope she’s learned from this, we’re both way to old to experience this type of situation. Which is why I walked away, I simply don’t have the time or inclination. I really do wish her well, and hope she does see a friendship is a valuable asset in life to be cherished.

I'm conitnuing to battle writing time against, family time, grandkid time, and all other time.

An area that has suffered and I've gotten lazy, is my diet and gym time. I'll confess I haven't been to the gym in a month. I had lost some weight, but when my birthday hit, it all went down hill. I don't celebrate my birthday or I try not too. Not out of any denial, I just don't. Still, I have great friends, who like celebrating my b-day more then I do. Friends took me out for drinks, one took me to lunch in San Francisco, hubby took me out for Japanese. My sister took me out to a local steakhouse where she lives, and more drinks. Line dancing was invovled in that celebration. My daughter had a BBQ for me. None of this I planed or even really wanted, because of the food. My b-day went on for weeks. Its nice to be loved and appreciatd by friends and family, but the food through me completely off. Still on my actual b-day, I stayed home in my sweats, and lounged around, worked in the yard a little, and BBQ some steaks for hubby and I. So my whole b-day was nothing but food. Food, food, and more food.

Once more I'm deteremined to loose what I gained, and had lost before. More work ahead. But nothing comes easy or free. 

Do you struggle for you-time, in this busy world?

I’m back on track with my writing, and it’s been a struggle to get to this point. Family, friends, and life unexpected turns, always have a habit of getting in the way. But I’m managing…

I have a great support group with family and friends, which helps, a lot. Still I often wonder how writers do it, especially those with children and jobs. I admire their spunk and drive. I’ve gotten a bit lazy at times. I’ve developed the “there is always tomorrow” attitude, which gets me nowhere fast.

I’m struggling more than ever with my weight and health issues. But haven’t give up, and won’t. It’s just a consent fight.

Right now my sister is visiting so once more I’m thrown off track. But I love having her here. It’s always fun.

So I’ll get myself up and running and back into everything again, come Saturday.

Over the past week this whole situation with my friend, or now former friend was really weighing on me. She finally called and left a message, with the excuse, she was ill again. I believe she was, but I also believe she uses it as an excuse not to complete things, she really doesn’t want to do, but has committed too, anyways.

I told her why, I was baling on our friendship. The lack of respect, and just assuming I was willing to wait for her all the time.

There were days when I felt like I was in high school, with my sister, when we decided we weren’t going to like someone. It felt like that, but wasn’t that.

I’m too old and too busy to do this, and it hurts me to hurt her. I really didn’t like it all. But there is time when you have to stand up for your own feelings, and follow your heart.

This person wasn’t a mean or malicious person, but she did take me and our friendship for granted. When she realized I was annoyed, as she put it, suddenly she was going to be a good friend, things would be different. I don’t play that. It should have never gotten to this point.

I wished her the best, and I sincerely meant it. She is a brilliant author, who is pursuing her own writing, for reasons that are her own. But it’s such a waste of passion for books and writing. I envy her talent. I hope to see her name on the bookshelf someday.

If I feel any resentment, it’s for her lack of consideration, and the fact she is a grown woman and knows the difference between filling an obligation and not. I resent she put me in this situation. I know I surprised her by doing this. In her last e-mail she wasn’t expecting it. She believed I would forgive her, as I always did.

I must give people that impression, for my ex-husband told me once he was surprised I divorced him too. He said, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Honestly, I don’t. I dig deep to find the strength to hurt someone I care about. It kills me. I hate it. It doesn’t come easy, and leaves me with a very bad taste in my soul. And it takes a long while for it to leave. God doesn’t have to punish me. I do a good job of it for him.

So I cowgirled up and took care of what had been hanging over me for months. I really wish it hadn’t turned out that way for me. Because there will be things about our friendship I’ll miss, but not enough to put up with the rest.

Have you ever had to do something like this?