Tag Archives: Every Day Moments

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Climbing the Mountain

As someone who seemingly has unceasing dreams and aspirations, I can honestly say I understand the drive, the passion and the insanity that a big dream, or even a calling, can inflict upon the poor soul who dared to have it in the first place.

In 2012, my mother, Rebekah, was inflicted by such a calling. She called me and told me she had an idea for a story, maybe even a novel. She outlined the whole thing for me and then laughed as she told me I should write it for her. To her shock and dismay, I turned her down. “That’s the thing about a dream, Mom. It has to be lived out by the person who has it. Nobody else can do it for you.”

“But I don’t know how!” she replied. I reminded her that my first film was made with little more knowledge than that. But I learned along the way, and there was one thing I was certain of. If I could do it, she could do it. While I knew it would be scary for her, I also knew that there was no replacement for the euphoria she would feel when she finished. Even if, as she said she feared, no one ever read it, it would be her own personal scaled mountain.

And the view would be glorious.

Once she realized I was serious when I said I wasn’t going to write it for her, she decided she would tackle that mountain. On December 27th, 2012, she began her story.

Now, December 27, 2014, exactly two years, and hundreds of hours of writing, researching, and rewriting later, not only does she have a completed book, but she has a SECOND book fully drafted. On November 1st of this year, she entered NaNoWriMo, which is short for “National Novel Writing Month.” The goal is to draft a 50k word novel in 30 days or less.

She finished in 21.

Back in July, I asked her to sit down and answer a few questions about the book. I told her I would publish them when the book became available. This is that interview.
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A cat named Cat Ballou

This was written shortly after I found Cat. It had been years since I had a feline as a pet. Happily living with two dogs, I didn’t know what I was missing until that day in December. Cat stayed with me for several months, and was the best mouser I ever had the privilege to know.

She took walks with me, slept with me, and just generally improved my life. After I moved, she ran away after some fireworks and a run in with another family member’s dog. She had started living in the wild, and she went back to the wild. One of her ears was grown together at the tip and was her only identifying mark. I searched for weeks, months, and then a year. I still miss her.

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For those of you who don’t yet know the story, “Cat Ballou” is one of my very favorite movies. It is one that I watched over and over again as a kid, and actually never gets old. It’s a comedy western and stars Jane Fonda, Lee Marvin, Dwayne Hickman and Michael Callan. Lee Marvin won the best supporting Oscar that year as the drunken “Kid Shaleen.” He famously said that half of his Oscar belonged to “a horse somewhere in the valley.” Watch the movie. You’ll see what he means.

Anyway, on December 12th, I was coming home from running some errands when I saw a cat dart across the road. Since I live on a road that is a popular “drop off zone” (a place where cats and dogs are dumped by owners who know the schmucks on this street will more than likely take them in) I stopped the car. I got out and did the ‘test.’
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The Coldest Day

“If ever we are going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed; you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.”– Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest.

Today’s weather has been a gift.

Four years ago, on October 2 and 3 of 2010, I was part of the production team shooting two scenes for my very first independent feature film, No Lost Cause. The weather was abysmal. Overcast skies tinted everything a pale blue-grey, and the air had moved beyond crisp and autumnal into the slicing cold of deepest winter.

The scene called for our actors to play basketball, while wearing shorts and sleeveless tops. The crew was in heavy overcoats and wrapped in layers and these two men were left with the acting job of their young lives: warm.

There were many shooting days, but these two stand out because they were the absolute worst weather we experienced, and October 3 is my Grandfather’s birthday. Which is why I notice the weather today and why I am particularly reveling in it’s balmy breeze. I’ve left the window open nearly all day, and I’ve made the time to sit on my front porch and read…soaking in the last possible heat before another rumored long and difficult winter begins.
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A Very Merry Happy Half-Birthday, to Me

Today is my half-birthday. If you were born in the frozen tundra of late February like I was, you might understand why, while I don’t necessarily celebrate it, I do enjoy acknowledging the day. I spent it with some of the people I love,  doing things I love.

It’s also begins the six month countdown to the middle of my thirties. The first five years (so far) have been full of unexpected adventure and some incredible sadness. I started working in film, co-authored a book, flew in a plane for the first time, traveled (a lot!) went back to acting on the stage after a very long hiatus, co-founded a theatre, and gained a surrogate niece. I also lost my two very best furry friends and my Grandmother.
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Keep Blooming

Back in May, I bought a bunch of flowers for my front porch. I don’t have a very green thumb, so I have to buy things that will grow despite me, not because of me. Most of my flowers have done really well…a few have withered, but most have flourished without incident.

Except for the little yellow flower in the white pot. I found a pretty wrought iron flower stand in the garage and a a pot that “just fit.” I selected just the right flower to put in the pot and landed on a pretty yellow one. It seemed happy, and something I’d like visitors to look at before they walked through the front door. A perfect little flower in a perfect little pot.

Had I but known.

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Adventures in Elevators

Following are two completely different experiences I had while riding the elevator.

Going Up?

Any time we travel to Atlantic City, I spend a lot of time riding the elevators. If I happen ride with a group of people, they fall into two categories, there is the ride packed with bodies, no small talk, and no eye contact. Or, there are the 20 second chit-chatters, saying things like,

“Going up?”

“Yes.”

“Me too!”

“Having fun?”

“Yes.”

“Me too!”

Occasionally, though, there are stand out moments. Once, I found myself boarding with a bellhop.
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The Golden Corral Bathroom Cookie War Radio Drama

The Golden Corral was the second stop of the day after wandering aimlessly around the massive expanse of a retail store that is the “Bass Pro Shop.” From one sensory overload to another, it was an afternoon of indulgence that only Southerners know how to partake of.

After feasting on the smorgasbord like Templeton the Rat at the fair, I made the necessary bathroom visit before departing. A few seconds behind me followed a very impressive child screamer of about five years old or younger, and his mother.

(Reminder: This encounter was so impressive, I’m writing a post about it, so don’t stop reading yet.)

I must confess that I stayed in the stall longer than I should have to listen to the outcome. It turned out to be dinner and a show. But more like a Radio Drama, since, you know, I couldn’t see their faces.

Scene: Golden Corral Bathroom

Sobbing child enters, followed by Mother.

Wait….I must edit that. Not sobbing.

Gut wrenching, melodramatic screaming child enters followed by Mother.

Better.

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An Evening with Deana

This entry is from a journal I keep on occasion called, “Every Day Moments.” It was begun during a time when I needed to see the good in every day situations to cope with grief.

My beloved pet cat Sammy passed away about six weeks prior to this entry. His sister Deana, mentioned below, passed away on January 2nd of this year. Both had kidney issues. 

They were only in my life for just over four years, but brought me immeasurable joy, and I miss them. Occasionally, I will share more memories as they come to mind.

May 31st, 2013

“The day after Sammy passed, I started visiting the Humane Society once a week after work. I stood there, desolate, and told them I just needed to hold a black cat. It was the best way I knew how to cope and still function. I met many, many beautiful souls there. I’ll tell their stories another day.

Today, after a long day of work cleaning and being cooped up indoors, I came home and let all my remaining animals outside. Right now that total stands at two dogs and one cat, but tomorrow that will change. Two sweet black male cats are coming home to live with me. I know my two new friends won’t be able to replace Sam, but I’m hoping it will help me move forward.

As I sat down on the ledge of flowers we planted near his grave, I sighed. I know it’s silly and probably pointless, but every time I pass his grave I want to to, or do, say “Hi Sam.” For nearly four years, I said that every time I saw him, and I still miss saying it.

Deana followed close behind me, as usual. Whenever we go to that area of the garden, she always ends up sitting on the stone marker. Do I think she knows Sammy’s there? No; but it moves me when I see her perched there. I do think she sleeps under the couch now because that’s where he slept. Knowing things will change tomorrow, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her tonight.

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