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La vache violette

Je n’ai jamais vu de vache violette
Je n’espère jamais en voir un
Mais je peux te le dire, de toute façon
Je préfère voir que d’en être un

My mother used to recite this Gelett Burgess poem to me (in English). I have it in this book, first publication date after I left the right age group, but this edition was also before the time of my nephews and nieces. Who knows how or where I acquired it. The lines around the poem are part of the way the publisher decorated the page. No child scribbled those.

Since this was the first of my coloring books in which I could find a page with a cow, I decided I must do a little more to make her très chic to match the week’s purple theme. She’s definitely outstanding… out standing in her field, as my Uncle Dwight might have said.

Tiny Tuesday!

A small bottle ideal for perfumes and scents. Also purple.

I thought the bottle might pair well with my “Bridgerton” coloring book. Based on the Regency romance book series by Julia Quinn, the fourth season of the TV series returns in 2026.

On this page, the anonymous “Lady Whistledown” is making a surreptitious late-night visit to her printer so all the gossip about London society (and a bit of the royal household) can be consumed by anyone with around five cents to spend. (They were free at first, and once the populace was hooked, she began to charge for her sheets.) This coloring page was a big help to me yesterday.

Regarding the rest of today’s post: I don’t think today is necessarily the best place to share this information, but it’s uppermost on my mind and is impacting what I feel like sharing here and how this kind of thing can dominate my thoughts and my days. For example, I can color, because it’s soothing. I can manage my household and my health because I have to. But I can’t write. Writing fiction demands that I tap into a full range of feelings, many of them including conflict.

I can’t watch anything (movies, television) that will have too much emotional impact.

I don’t easily handle small frustrations (yet I STILL feel grateful for all the things that go well and the wonderful parts of my life, because I’ve hardwired myself to do so).

I’m doing what I can to proceed with Christmas (still don’t have a holiday photo for our Christmas cards/letters this year, and still haven’t mailed out the packages I’m running out of time to send).

I need the normalcy of updating here. I need the structure it provides. I’d rather not be thinking about yesterday’s event or letting it affect me, but these tragedies always do and likely always will. I won’t rant. I’ll just provide a graphic and talk about my website. (After a cut, so if a coloring page and a photo of a bottle is what you can handle today, I completely get it. For me personally, the amount of news and social media exposure I’ve cut out since November is necessary for my emotional and mental health.)

Continue reading “Tiny Tuesday!”

Photo Friday, No. 939

Current Photo Friday theme: Cinematic

I’ve shared this photo before, taken somewhere in the Texas Panhandle in 2014 when Timothy and I traveled from Houston to Colorado and back as part of a rescue animal transport. I kept telling Tim I was looking for “the last picture show,” and in this moment, I found that mood. I converted it to black and white and quoted from Larry McMurtry’s novel, later a movie, The Last Picture Show in my post back then.

I’ll post the McMurtry excerpt here, too.

Sometimes Sonny felt like he was the only human creature in the town. It was a bad feeling, and it usually came on him in the mornings early, when the streets were completely empty, the way they were one Saturday morning in late November. The night before Sonny had played his last game of football for Thalia High School, but it wasn’t that that made him feel so strange and alone. It was just the look of the town.
Larry McMurtry, The Last Picture Show

Coloring fiction (and history)

Taking a suggestion from Mark for coloring that might include history and England…

C.S. Lewis was a British writer, literary scholar, and Anglican lay theologian. You might know him best because of The Chronicles of Narnia, which begins with the first novel, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. When the four Pevensie children are evacuated from London during the Blitz*, they live with a professor in his house in the countryside. There, they discover a wardrobe that’s a portal to a magical land named Narnia.

The coloring pages I did below, of the wardrobe, can be found on the copyright page and last page of this lovely coloring book.

I didn’t read the Narnia series as a child. I was introduced to it by my college roommate Debbie, who I think gave me a paperback set for a birthday or Christmas. I then told Lynne about the series because both of us read fantasy as teens and young adults, specifically The Lord of the Rings novels (J.R.R. Tolkien) and The Sword of Shannara trilogy (Terry Brooks).

Years later, when I worked at a bookstore, badly damaged books were often marked 50% off, and that’s how I was able to afford my hardcover collection on my meager salary. While they may not be the prettiest, they came to me gently loved and remain loved.

Debbie’s recommendation also began my fascination with lions thanks to Narnia’s Aslan. Aslan is the reason my father did this for me in pen and ink:

And Lynne’s sister Liz did this ceramic piece for me:

And Debby gave me this canvas print by artist Leonid Afremov as a recent Christmas gift.

*The whole lion fascination was a detour. Back to British history. Long before I read C.S. Lewis, I’d read books about children who were evacuated to the English countryside as well as to the United States to stay with host families during World War Two. The Blitz is the term for Germany’s bombing raids of cities and towns in England from September 1940 to May 1941. In London during that period, there were 57 consecutive nights of bombing. People wore gas masks and used blackout curtains. They were on food and petrol rations, and volunteers patrolled the streets at night to sound warnings and make sure people got safely inside shelters during air raids. Civilians, including women, drove ambulances, helped rescue people trapped in bombed houses, and tended to wounds as they could. Mark, in a comment you left on Mindful Monday’s post, you pinpointed some of the qualities that explain why I have so much love and admiration for your country and its people.

Because of my interest in that period of history, there’s a backstory for a brother and sister in the Neverending Saga that includes being sent to live with relatives in rural England during the war. Though their parents were killed in a London bombing after the Blitz, just in London alone, 30,000 residents lost their lives during the Blitz.

Sunday Sundries

I will put this Instagram link here and hope very much that it works for you, because this video is not yet on youtube, or at least I couldn’t find it. If you watch “Labs of the Mohicans,” make sure the sound is on, and you might understand what motivated me to make today’s sundries include book, movie, soundtrack. All amazing in unique ways, much like Stella the yellow lab.

You could read the book. I confess, I didn’t read it when it was on the syllabus of one of my favorite classes taught by one of my favorite professors. I have the good memory of being taught it, but many English majors may remember the drawback of taking on extra classes because you love literature. If you multiply four lit classes by the number of books for each class, and add all the reading and requirements of your non-major classes, you have to make choices. I read parts of it, and in atonement, I plan to read it in its entirety now. I’ll see how that goes.

You could watch it. Because, good grief, Daniel Day Lewis. Madeleine Stowe. The rest of an outstanding cast. I plan to watch this again soon (not in lieu of reading the novel!).

You could listen to the soundtrack, some of the music so sweeping and powerful that unrelated movies have used it for their advertising trailers. I already listened to it again on Friday and have kept the CD handy to listen again while I’m writing.

Tiny Tuesday!

Received this keychain recently from adamjk.com. Since I don’t drive a lot, I think I’ll probably leave it here on my desk for a while as a reassuring reminder. Even when all of it might not feel true. Maybe especially when all of it might not feel true.

I did try to work on the Neverending Saga Monday. But mostly I just made edits. When I got to the page of the chapter where I intended to resume writing, my mind was as blank as the page.

Today is the tomorrow of “tomorrow is another day,” Scarlett.

reading and coloring

Very glad I followed the recommendation of a commenter to an article about Quincy Jones and read this autobiography. I settled with my iPad and read it as an e-book before bed every night, spellbound by the life this man led. He worked with everybody! I learned so much, not just about him, but about music and music history, ranging from classical composers to hip hop.

He had his demons and made mistakes, never quite escaping the damage of a tough childhood, but he remained full of love for his work and the world, along with his family, friends, and fellow artists. You know a man’s special when he had several children by several wives, and he and the kids loved each other unconditionally, and the wives spoke kindly and lovingly of him even when their relationships ended. No telling how many lives he impacted during his 91 years. I finished the book last night. Rest in peace, Mr. Jones.

After I ran errands this morning, I found a good way to make myself feel better about things while I color: play old music I can sing along to. Not the kind of music I normally listen to, but music that takes me back to times when I was really just the daughter of two, and the kid sister of two. For example, Saturday mornings when we cleaned house, my mother would stack albums on the stereo. They’d be her favorites, mixed with some of Debby’s favorites to sing along to, and some of my favorites, too. That’s how today, while I colored, I ended up on YouTube listening and singing along to many songs by Andy Williams, the Righteous Brothers, Tom Jones, Patsy Cline, and Hank Williams Sr.

I’d forgotten how singing is a great mood lifter. That’s true even though I’m not much of a singer (Debby is and Mother was). Luckily, nobody’s hearing me but the dogs; Tom’s been in and out of the house a lot so far today.

This is the book I was coloring from. I’ll share those I’ve finished as part of my Sunday Sundries post tomorrow. I did my first from this book in 2020, and I haven’t removed any of them to put in my sketchbook. I’ll explain why in tomorrow’s post. A unicorn’s always worth the wait.

When listening to YouTube today, I made a discovery. My parents had an album of instrumentals that included an English clarinetist, Acker Bilk. For all I know, the entire album was Acker Bilk. My father’s favorite from the album was Bilk’s rendition of “Stranger On The Shore” (England’s biggest selling single of 1962). For the first time, today I heard the lyrics. The words are so sad, maybe because as I listened, one of my characters came to mind, and it broke my heart for her. Then, as I pondered how to work it in as a reference in book seven (the current work in progress), I realized it’s even more heartbreaking for a different character in the series that would follow the Neverending Saga (should I ever actually complete the NS). I’m WAY too hard on my characters, and consequently on myself, sometimes. But as one of her mentors, who may have gotten it from Robert Frost, once told Marika, No writer tears, no reader tears!

Here’s the song with an orchestra and Andy Williams singing the lyrics:

And the instrumental version with Mr. Bilk and his clarinet:

words for today

I will now get to learn how to manage depression and anxiety. I’ll be seriously curtailing my online time. This morning, I read the social media post of a personal friend. He’s a really good human. A gay man. Gifted. Smart. Compassionate. He was being encouraging to people who feel wounded by the election results. Reminding his readers to take the long view, knowing there are still ways we can make our world a better place for ourselves and the marginalized. There was nothing hateful in his words. Nothing objectionable. But his comments began filling up with people mocking him, verbally attacking him. Gloating. Even low-key threatening him.

I’m sure he’s not surprised. I’m not surprised.

I’ve never tolerated hatefulness on this blog since I began it in 2004. I will ask you do not comment here or speak to me elsewhere and tell me ALL [fill in the blank with whatever descriptor you identify as] are not like that. I know. I’ve been around a while. I’m not the one making hateful generalizations. In so many places in my life, I have to choose my words and remain kind with people I know, people who are friends and family members, who vote in ways that literally threaten the health, peaceful and full life, and happiness of people I love. Their choice.

But never try to justify to me that chaos, division, demonizing, mendacity, and mental, emotional, and physical cruelty are okay. Hide yourself in a cloak of something abhorrent to me, and know that even then, I will listen, for a while, anyway, to all the things you say and all the things you don’t even realize you say, and the only, ONLY, point when we are done is if you begin to insult and demean me or the ones I love. If you don’t like me, respect me, or love me, for who I am, step off. Find a better way to fill your time than wasting it on me. (I have people in my life who build me up. Who comfort me. Who started bright and early this morning sending messages of love and commiseration, and the reminder that I can breathe with them. We can speak frankly whether we’ve been friends since we were eighteen, or since 1989, ’92, ’93, ’94, ’97, 2005, 2007, 2011, or 2015, I’m there for them. They’re there for me. We connect in so many ways.) To them (or you if you need to hear it) I say:

And to the others of you…
If your candidate won, celebrate. Sit at home with a big smile on your face; have some champagne. Crack a beer. Grill your favorite meat. Call or gather with your likeminded friends and repeat all the things you’ve been saying out loud since 2016. Actually, since 2008. You’ve gotten what you wanted. You’ve taken the White House, the Senate, the Supreme Court, (as of this writing, the jury’s still out on the House), and you’re already anticipating how all your “enemies” will be punished, controlled, vanquished. Do that instead of traveling social media and finding the accounts of strangers (and celebrities, because they are your very favorite targets) to pester them. Go and live the idyllic life you’ve been promised.

Today, I’ve spent lovely hours with my dogs. (Starting at about 4:30 am, when they began nudging Tom and me to GET UP. He took them out but then made them come back to bed and wait for breakfast.) They’re all a little crazy in all their different ways, but they have so much love to give. I don’t mean to aspire to craziness when I try to be more like them. It’s just a bonus, I guess. I showered, dressed, left the house to wash my car (the weather is lovely), make a bank deposit, and grab Starbucks.

My heart hurts. I want to be nice to myself. I’m not sure if I have the focus to write. There’s so much I’m unsure about. But I sure am grateful for the love in my life. I’m grateful for the values and strength I was given by my family, and the family I’ve made since. I feel far away from and lonely for many of them, but I also feel the love. Thank you.

Mindful Monday

Wishing you all peace of mind. Happy Monday.
For me, I hope it’s writing, home, husband, dogs, music, and nourishment. For you?

Was sad to hear about the death of Quincy Jones today, though he lived a long and eventful life. What an impact he had on music and culture. Someone in comments to the obituary I read strongly recommended Q: The Autobiography of Quincy Jones, and just like that, it’s in my Kobo ebooks. Research!

Questions, No. 8

I haven’t done one of these since March of 2022. Took it from the shelf, randomly opened it, scrolled down the page until a question caught my eye: What is your favorite author whose name begins with the letter R? As my mental search engine kicked into gear, I promised however it turned out, I’d go with the first name that came to mind.

That would be U.S. author Tom Robbins, who is still with us at 92 years old. He was born in North Carolina and is considered a post-modernist, and I have my brother to thank for getting me to read my first of his novels, Another Roadside Attraction. I never looked back.

I’ve mentioned on here before that had I finished my Masters program, I knew I’d either pick the works of Tom Robbins or Larry McMurtry as my thesis subject. That thesis (and a foreign language requirement) are the only two things I didn’t complete. Did well in all my classes. Passed my masters comps. Then somehow it all slipped through my fingers and I moved away without finishing the program. These things happen.

From my bookshelf, his eleven novels: