Wedding

I was out of state this past weekend for the wedding of my husband's niece (which technically makes her my niece as well, but I wanted to make the familial relationship clear in few words which is totally pointless after this long aside). It became a semi-family reunion because we saw relatives we haven't seen in years. One of my nieces has a seven-year old daughter that we've never seen. That's the problem with family living all over. I live in New Mexico, two nieces live in Idaho, one in Utah, one Bro-in-law and family in Houston, the other bro-in-law in California; so family get-togethers like this one are few are far between. We had one member of the oldest generation, four of us from the next, ten from the next and three from the next. Plus one if you count the groom that joined the family that weekend. A ten-hour drive took us to the location of the ceremony. We stayed in town for three days, played, talked, and essentially caught up with one another and life. There is a bond there that blood provides, which overcomes the lack of contact, the different lives and beliefs, and the generational gaps that exist. Or I may be delusional.

A few odd observations (and don't you think oddservations might be a good word for that?): Every state has its own unique quirks. My husband and I like to claim New Mexico drivers are the worst (not understanding the use of blinkers, drunk driving, speed), but I think every state claims that; but I have never seen lookie-loo traffic as bad as I did in Utah. We passed three accidents, minor fender benders all, but from the way traffic was stopped, you'd think the next dinosaur-massacring asteroid had hit and everyone wanted a piece. Also, we are suffering from the most sever drought here in New Mexico (really, if they can consider piping oil from Canada to Texas, can't they consider piping water from all those flood regions here? Okay, there's no money in water; I get it), but both Colorado and Utah are green. I figured out why--they water! Every field had a sprinkler system  and they were on.  No wonder we don't have water here. Saw some odd businesses too--taxidermy and antiques at one; statuary and farm equipment at another.  And in Utah on I-15 they have the HOV lane. We finally figured out we could drive in because we had three occupants in our car and one had to have 2 or more. HOV stands for High Occupancy Vehicle. I'm sorry, but two does not seem "high" to me. Seven or eight--now that would seem high. Those carpool lanes in California do the same. Two or more. Two does not make a carpool in my opinion. Those lanes should be  three or more at least. Then they would truly be worth driving on.

Okay, so this was a slow and not very interesting blog, but, hey, we all have those days. The wedding was beautiful, very informal, and looked lovely. The bride and groom don't have a lot of money, but really, I like this wedding better than a lot of the fancier weddings I've attended.  So congratulations to the bride and groom (they know who they are), and a hello to my family (They know who they are too).

--Gabi

P.S. Pixie isn't blogging this week because she's still mad that we left her behind. With a fine house-sitter, but Pixie hasn't forgiven us yet.

A very Special Prom night

Pixie here. You've heard me talk about Mom, but what you may not not know is that really I'm the dog of my Mom's daughter. She's really special, a little different from other kids, but I love her just the same.  She's graduating high school this year, which may not seem like that big a deal to you, but it's huge for us. See, Stef has been in special education all her life; she can communicate but not really well or at the level of other kids her age. She can read, but not well, and while she likes her independence, she won't be living on her own any time soon. So this is a huge milestone for her and all of us in our family.

The problem is that with the end of the school year comes all those things that normal kids, well, I can't say take for granted because they're a big deal to them, but it isn't exactly the time for thinking of others. Take Prom night for example. Prom was last night for Stef's high school. She started talking about prom back in September, right around the time she realized that being a senior was special. She planned to go, get a dress, a date, everything that going to prom means. Now we've all seen those lovely stories about the kid with Down syndrome being elected Prom King, or Homecoming Queen, or to the various courts. They are heart-warming, wonderful stories and really give you faith in the youth of today. This isn't one of those stories.  Honestly, for every one special kid honored this way, there are probably a couple dozen who are forgotten. Stef is one of those forgotten ones. Stef didn't go to homecoming. She was left out the group senior picture in the yearbook. Seriously, when seniors were asked to assemble or participate in something, most of the time, they forget to call the special ed kids. But she kept talking about prom.

Stef doesn't have Down Syndrome, and she isn't the outgoing, overly friendly type. She isn't unpleasant, and she can be quiet (except at home when she sings at the top of her lungs and so off-key it almost hurts, but no one would every tell her to stop), and her face looks serious, and sometimes, not often at all but sometimes, she can forget about her mouth and a little bit of drool can come out. She's tall, curvy (and who in the great scheme of things thought that was a good idea?), and rather shy. She has a wicked sense of humor once you get to know her, and she loves to play games.

So prom night was coming up, and Mom and Dad were really worried about how disappointed Stef was going to be. No group of friends volunteered to take her, no date, nothing. Mom even reached out to her former students for ideas, but no one got in touch with her.  That's when a small, quiet, lovely little thing happened. Stef's been a member of Best Buddies since she started high school. Best Buddies is a group that pairs up kids with developmental and intellectual disabilities with peer buddies just for friendship. Stef's best buddy this year is a junior. I'm not going to mention her name because she didn't give me permission (not that I asked, but I won't publish her name without her or her parents' permission). Juniors are also allowed to go to the prom. All of Stef's buddy's friends were going but she wasn't. Instead, she called Stef, told Stef that she thought prom would be boring, and how about  they went out to dinner and then went bowling instead? Stef spent the last two weeks talking about how she wasn't going to prom, how she had better plans. So last night, while all the other high school juniors and seniors were getting dressed up, picked up in limos, spending lots of money on one night, Stef went out with a friend, had a wonderful time, and just felt like she was part of something. That she had a friend. Something most of us take for granted.

A small, quiet, heart-warming story.

You know, I couldn't love Stef more if she were "normal".

--Pixie

P.S. Mom pledged 10% of her royalties from AS YOU WISH to Best Buddies International, so if you want a fun read and contribute to a good cause...

Sick days

Mom's been home these past these past two days, but instead of playing with us (Tonks and me), she spent them in bed. Turns out she was sick. Some fever or something, which means I would have had the perfect opportunity to blog without interruption, but, hey, even we cutest pups have our jobs, and mine was sleeping by her side while she was in bed feeling awful. I do my part. And I do love her. Crazy thing is, she's more happy about the weight she's lost from not eating for two days than the getting better. Humans are such an odd breed. The things they find important. Tsk, tsk.

Mom has been restless lately because she hasn't found anything to entertain her. She's finished the entire line-up of "Eureka", the available episodes of "Warehouse 13," "Top Gear" (UK version, of course--we have our standards), and in an attempt to find something else that kept her interest, she watched another show that may people rave about, but she found lacking. The last two books she read were lacking too. She loved the writing, but in one the holes at the end left her unsatisfied, and in the other, she thought the heroine was such a baby. She likes the humor mixed with serious (see the TV shows she enjoys above), and that what she writes too, but apparently they don't sell well. If you ask me, she should throw in a dog or two and bones. Everybody loves bones.

So if you have any suggestions for her, reading or viewing, I'll pass them along. If she has to spend many more days in bed with nothing to read or watch, she'll go nuts, and I don't like it when she goes nuts. She starts doing crazy things like cleaning and removing all that lovely dogginess that we (Tonks and I) have worked so hard to get into the house.
--Pixie

There's been a coup

Pixie here.

Mom has really dropped the ball recently.

She hasn't posted anything in a long time, and frankly, after reading the past posts, there's been far too little about me. So that's about to change. I stole her password and her laptop and have taken control. I mean, look at me. I'm long past due for grooming (Hey, Mom, the scruffy look went out in the sixties!), and breakfast was late this morning. Who does she think she is? Sure she had a book appear on Amazon, Nook, and Kobo this week. But seriously. Compare:

Who would you rather look at? Naked dude or scruffy loveliness? (Even scruffy I'm the cutest). So I decided to take over. It's probably time. And my content will be far more interesting than hers. Although that whole lack-of-opposable thumb thing might make it a little more difficult for me. But I'm nothing if not cunning and clever. Who else but a cunning and clever pup could show you how to kill a mockingbird?

It didn't even taste like bird. Pffft.

--Pixie.

Plans

It's spring break for me and I am full of plans. Plans to write, plans to publish, plans to relax, plans to enjoy. The problem with plans and too many of them is that often they are unrealistic. There is no way to achieve everything on my list if I am totally honest with myself. I expect too much efficiency from myself and if I'm honest I already know I won't get to half the things on my list. And that compounds the guilt I feel for falling short.

So this week I'm trying to be realistic. Trying. Not necessarily succeeding, but trying. I have two books to be put up on Kindle and Nook, so at least I can get them formatted. I'll try to get the covers done too, but definitely formatted. I'm working on a book (two actually) and would like to make good progress on them. I would love to push it and get at least one finished, but I also have to remember that my day has left me tired and drained and I do need recovery.

And I'd like to spend some time with the family. Maybe catch a movie with the daughter. Maybe paint a room. And the poor dogs need attention too, and then I should plan for the rest of the school year...Wait, it's getting out of control again.

We all have twenty-four hours in a day. What we do with those hours is our choice. And I"m learning that the world won't end if I don't accomplish everything today. I'm not talking about procrastination; I'm speaking about getting the job done with quality and care. Much better than the slapdash ways I usually get things done.

Take a breath and remember that life is fleeting and it's okay to take a break.

--Gabi

Books I'm reading now:

Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks

Spring Fling into Romance

Multi author booksigning with Darynda Jones, Celeste Bradley, Katie Lane and me! Page One Book Store, Albuquerque,  March 9, 3:30 PM.

And now for something different...

A linguistics professor was lecturing to his English class one day. "In English," he said, "a double negative forms a positive. In some languages, though, such as Russian, a double negative is still a negative. However, there is no language wherein a double positive can form a negative."

A voice from the back of the room piped up, "Yeah, right."

***
A screenwriter comes home to a burned down house. His sobbing and slightly-singed wife is standing outside. “What happened, honey?” the man asks.

“Oh, John, it was terrible,” she weeps. “I was cooking, the phone rang. It was your agent. Because I was on the phone, I didn’t notice the stove was on fire. It went up in second. Everything is gone. I nearly didn’t make it out of the house. Poor Fluffy is--”

“Wait, wait. Back up a minute,” The man says. “My agent called?”
***

How many science fiction writers does it take to change a light bulb?

Two, but it's actually the same person doing it. He went back in time and met himself in the doorway and then the first one sat on the other one's shoulder so that they were able to reach it. Then a major time paradox occurred and the entire room, light bulb, changer and all was blown out of existence. They co-existed in a parallel universe, though.
***
How many mystery writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Two. One to screw it almost all the way in, and the other to give it a surprising twist at the end.
***

How many cover blurb writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

A VAST AND TEEMING HORDE STRETCHING FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA!!!!
***
Past, present and future walked into a pub. It was a bit tense.

--Gabi

Books I'm reading now:
Judging the RITA at the moment. Shhhh, can't tell you what I'm reading. It's a secret.