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Memoir or Autobiography?

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Some folks assume that writing a memoir or autobiography serves as a catharsis.  Not always so.

With the impetus of Nanowrimo, I wrote in earnest, every day for thirty days.  My earliest memories took me from perhaps 3 years of age until about 11 or 12 years old.  Was it cathartic?  Hardly.

There are those folks who write about their experiences to heal themselves, to expose themselves, to shock, stimulate or educate or simply to gain notoriety.  My reasons?

Partly, I would like to educate, to show that some children are capable of deep thought, are deeply sensitive and have the potential to become great healers or scientists or anything of their choosing, given the love and guidance required.

Further, looking through the eyes of a child, through that child’s point of view, or thought process gives pause to the question of nature versus nurture.  How does a child come through unscathed in the face of adversity?  How does another child come through damaged, broken?

I believe that to see the world through my eyes as a child is to learn what that, or any child thinks, how she thinks and what she was capable of.  Or not.

Writing the first draft was quite challenging.  I resisted editing as well as speaking in adult terms, with my own commentary as an adult.  I found it difficult at first to keep within my own challenge to BE the child that resides within me.

The thoughts of a child in any situation are mostly unknown.  We can all look AT our childhood experiences.  Delving more deeply into the thoughts seemed more elusive.  We have to become the child again and so the past and present meld into one.

Children don’t have the language or freedom to expose themselves fully.  Living through the experiences again, complete with thoughts, is a rare glimpse into an adult’s mind. Savvy or otherwise, adults wouldn’t have the time and shouldn’t have the inclination to expose themselves and every thought.

Quantum physicists believe that the past, present, and future all exist at once.  Though I haven’t fully grasped the concept of the future existing as I write these words – perhaps a cursory look at the idea will bring understanding – certainly I can say that writing from the perspective of the child I was and being in the present, (now past) while doing so, the past and present do exist at once.

Writing a memoir, or, a work from a specific part of one’s life seems more relevant. A work on a whole life is impossible as a whole life would include a death or the end of life.  Logically then, no once can write an autobiography as one’s death would have to be included.

I’ve let the first draft simmer for nearly a month.  I’m ready to move into a review and rewrite.  The teen years are speaking to me and my list of prompts grows every day.

Why did I write?  I had to.

Who will read?  You.  Me.  Someone.

Missing days past…

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Source: Missing days past…

Who’s there?

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While picking my earliest raspberries for the market on Saturday, I considered the company I keep.

The thorns, the berries, the bees and Amadeus, my little gelding, pestering me at his corral fence for a handout.

And that’s not all.  I was surprise by a number of insects, no doubt pests, and this  –

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lovely California Tree Frog, about the size of a thumb.  🙂  What beautiful camouflage!

Paper Sculpture #2

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This is one of my favorite art pieces. Do you have a favorite? Are you satisfied with your work or are you never quite happy with your finished work?

A Measurement of Self

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Nearly two years have gone by, and this message is even stronger and more pertinent today than in past days.

seapunk2

At six a.m., I woke to hear noises of splashing, thrashing in water.  As it continued, I became concerned that one of the rabbits had escaped, found her way into a large bucket of water in the bathtub.  We use the bucket to collect water while it warms, for our showers.

I didn’t interpret the sounds to be life threatening, but I decided to get up and make sure all my creatures were safe.

It’s cool in the early mornings and the horses were running, playing, as the sun had already risen.  All the little creatures were in their proper places, and the water bucket untouched.  Likely, my daughter’s cat had found an activity in the next bedroom which sounded quite the same as water play.

I went back to bed, to rest my weary back.  The price for weeks of gardening and yard work is terrible back spasms.   The…

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Shifting position

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I used to get annoyed when companies or individuals started their holiday themed selling more than a month before a particular holiday.  Not sure I have anything to complain about.

Along with some baking and farming, I sew aprons, high style, for the Farmer’s Market and offer them for sale on my FB business page or my personal page, so far.  This winter, I’ll be busy at the machine with aprons for men, women and children along with children’s clothes. 

Decided it wasn’t too early to offer up the suggestion of a Halloween apron for women.  I figured it would be so much fun to be answering the door or spending time in the kitchen with one of these beauties on!  Never too early to plant seeds!

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Here’s the reverse – it’s fully lined and it’s the style I wear to the Farmer’s Market. 

2014-09-01 17.20.25I sold this apron on the first day I offered it. 

So here I am, doing exactly what the big guys are doing,

shoving holiday themed ‘stuff’ in front of people, long before the holiday arrives.   

I already have the Christmas, Valentines Day and St. Patrick’s Day aprons lined up. (pun intended)

I think I’ll stay mad at the big companies for doing the same thing.  What a hypocrite! 

My plan is to offer all sorts of aprons, they’re fun to sew, the variety is endless and men need something to wear, too! It’s tough watching them stand in front of their barbeques without anything on.  😉

naked grillingNo sausage on this grill!!

What do you think?

Incidentally, I take credit cards and can mail them anywhere in the world.  (seriously!)

 

How do you like THEM apples?

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Not apples, though I have an abundance of them. 

My favorite food is the tomato. 

Finally, my tomato harvest is about to begin.

How do you like THIS tomato? 

Maybe the tiniest tomato in the world, and tastes GREAT!

Maybe the tiniest tomato in the world, and tastes GREAT!

The Day After

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It’s the day after. 

I have a vendor space at a local Farmer’s Market every Wednesday.

It’s the day I have the most fun all week, and get to clown around, show off, shout, laugh, give free hugs, make acquaintances, make people happy, listen to the “Mmmmmmm,” and maybe even offend by accident.

I work hard all week to prepare, and the long hours are getting to me. 

I miss the time in my garden, time with my animals and time to enjoy this beautiful place I live in.

It all started when my daughter asked if I wanted to start a cupcake business with her.  I said, “Yes!”

So, we started, invested, promoted. We had some regular customers, did a few big events, and offer free delivery.

  Fast forward to the day after.

I’m running the business alone, and always trying new things. It’s hard for me NOT to try new things. The cupcakes, though organically made, weren’t the big hit we had hoped for. 

I added French Macarons, for which I have developed a small following. 

Then came the organic, vegetarian, real fruit turnovers, cookies, breads,

all home made with love and the finest ingredients.

I do offer my homemade preserves and other canned delights every week, and fruits, when in season.

In between, I am sewing retro aprons, in a signature style, and quite wonderful, too.

This year, I have donated 50% of all proceeds from my apron sales

to the North Coast Marine Mammal Center here in Crescent City.

It’s getting to be too much.  My dreams of writing are sliding around like a kid on roller skates for the first time.

It doesn’t feel good.

People ask for things and never come back.  I believe they are being truthful when they make requests,

and they are likely, just talking to talk.

Today, the day after,  I have made a decision to stop making breads for the public, keep my eye on the macarons, sew a little more, offer my signature organically made cupcakes and turnovers, offer fruits in season and that’s about it. 

There is so much creativity in me that it’s screaming to get out. 

I have never been fond of baking sweets, but I am fond of making people happy. 

I do enjoy making the macrons, though!

Macaron shells waiting to be filled.

Macaron shells waiting to be filled.

This situation reminds me of my thoughts of not finding readers, reaching people, with the big difference of time.

If I spend as much time writing, as I have in the kitchen each week, I’d have a book finished in no time.

After an exhausting week, and the realization that I am just not going to have the resources (financially) or regular assistance, (an extra pair of hands) besides my dear husband,

I am not going to have much of a business in rural Del Norte County.

There, I’ve said it.  Ouch.

I’m certain that if I lived in a metropolitan area, my clientele would develop quickly.

Everything tastes SO GOOD!

Just before bed last night, I received three inquiries for my French Macarons. 

I will follow up, and expect nothing.  There will be no disappointments. 

And writing and creating art with paper, fabric and other media, will feed ME, deep inside.

What are your thoughts? 

I would love to hear from you. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment.

 

Jammin’

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Life is tough in far Northwest Coastal California. 

We like to take it easy.

We like to take it easy.

Tickle me, Thursday!

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Before Mark and I moved to the far north, coastal California,

we frequented City Buffet in Hemet, California. 

It was decent, and offered seafood and other shellfish regularly, which drew me in.

We never overstayed our welcome and the folks there got to know us.  We teased and joked with them, and never knew if they actually understood our jokes or were patronizing us.  No matter, we had fun and they were okay with it all.

One day, as we were paying our bill, the manager looked up at Mark and asked,

“How many plate you eat?”

Mark is 6’4″ and is a slim 235 pounds. 

We laughed and I responded by telling the manager that I could eat far more than Mark could

and he wasn’t the one she should be concerned with! 

In the back of my mind, I was thinking about the day I saw a young man hovering over, guarding, a stainless steel serving tray which had shortly before held a huge mound of king crab legs and now held none. 

The tray was filled, the boy nearly emptied it, transferring the contents to his plate.  The boy then turned to walk toward his table and as I watched in horror, all the crab slid off of his plate on to the floor. 

I wonder if anyone asked the boy, “How many plate you waste?” 

That was the last of the crab for the day, sadly. I was more than a little perturbed at the greed and disregard for other diners, such as ME. I would have eaten it off of the floor.  After all, the crab legs are in their own little safety packages. 

It’s good to start the day with a laugh!

What do you think of this?

Not the same restaurant I talk about, but entertaining, nonetheless.

Not the same restaurant I talk about, but entertaining, nonetheless.

 

 

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