There is little to understand

Why killers kill

Or politician’s lie

Pain is still personal

To Each and Every One

Try to wrap your head around

Questions never answered

No way out of a maze

Shifting walls constructed of untruths

Behold the lies stand so tall

Knock them down

With swords of truth!

Stand taller than the lies

Let your cries be heard

Let them ring across the Land

Who to believe?

What’s real or fake

The pain is very real

To Each and Every One

I used to cry loud and long

It echoed in a canyon

The words lost in multiplication

Silence was a blessing

Who will cry next?

The wolf or rabbit

Hunter or prey

The lies can catch you up

Juggling all until they fall

To Each and Every One

photo by Kat Jayne

Crisp fall air

Snapping twigs

Legs brushing past dancing leaves

Bathed in their autumnal glory

Stadium lights blaring down

Youthful athletes take their bow

Pride floats by in a parade

Making memories for life

Ghoulies and goblins biding their time

Clocks teeter backwards

Throwing us into grateful slumber

Ghosts of the season in a tick of time

Wind kicks up the mosaic

Swirls of red and yellow, green and brown

Paints a new picture farther down

Jumping into piles of brittle colors

Crisp fall air

Cherry pink cheeks

Sunshine or rain, windy or calm

Behold, Autumn’s glory!

To my non-writer friends this question probably sounds a little weird. But to my writer friends, this comes about every fall. You begin to feel the tingle of anticipation as the calendar flicks another day aside until you are glaring at the last day, Halloween, October 31^st. Then it’s a lump of stress that settles in your stomach and with trepidation, you flip the calendar over…

NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month which happens to be November. This comes about every year (obviously). The goal is to write a first draft of a novel in 30 days. Anchoring the writing time into your schedule is a must. So is your pledge to write so many words a day. The goal is to have a novel of 50,000 words by the end of November. Every year I am totally unprepared and therefore uncommitted to the task of writing a sh***y first draft.

Annually, I use the excuse that I’m in the revising and editing phase of my current novel to get out of this when asked by my fellow writers if I plan to participate this year. It has merit since when you decide to pitch to an agent – a completed manuscript is the only kind they are interested in – unless it’s non-fiction.

This year I am in the revision phase again – but the call of a novel I started to pen last month is nagging at me to be finished. Part of me says, “Stand in line – there are several others in my computer that are your situation!” The other part of me says, maybe I should use the time to complete some other work I wanted to do with other novels that I pitched and have gone nowhere (so far). There is also the story with the elevator couple to consider – I left them running and I’m sure they are out of breath by now.

What to do?

Do I keep those notes for the other novels set aside, or do I plow through the goal of 50,000 words to see the September story to the end? Do I let my responsibilities to other stories drop like a mighty boulder from on high? Do I fly with my fellow writers, forsaking my routine? Or do I steadfastly write for my sake (not writing’s sake) and do it right – emerging with a less than sh***y draft?

The answer is finish revising the current book – the mystery. Since I am not a plotter, my brain has to work out the plot and that takes time – when my mind is drifting off to sleep and free of all other distractions it’s at its best. But to have a novel plotted this way in 30 days won’t work for me.

My mind is telling me this: For godsake! End the elevator couple‘s dilemma already, will you? I will stay grounded with the work I have. Finish something!

Sorry September novel, I’m afraid you have to stand in line…

Picture yourself snug on top of a hand sewn mattress stuffed with straw. Your pillow is filled with the feathers of the chickens killed last month and stuffed into the empty flour sack mother’s been saving for such an occasion. Before that, you had none.

A few minutes ago you climbed the wooden ladder to the loft that your father and grandfather nailed together to get to your bed. All of you – six in total, are sleeping up here this stifling August night. You and your siblings are roasting. The winter will be only slightly better. You can huddle together for warmth. But on the nights of blowing snow, it’s not uncommon to find inches of the freezing cold stuff blanketing your blankets. It has a way of finding the cracks.

And so is life for the Mooneys, the Daggitts, the McAdams (Sheahens), the McCrarens and Stupeys as they settled this untamed land in the 1840s. They are Irish, German, English, Catholic and Lutheran alike. They came with hopes and dreams of a better life even knowing they would have to work hard for it.

They would have us believe they were not afraid. Yet when you read of the illness that wiped out an entire family, or imagine them toiling the land – ridding the rocks and trees to make it farmable, you realize their first couple years the crops were designed at first to keep them alive and hope to sell what they can to purchase or barter flour, sugar or other staples. They weren’t fooling us.

Today we see images of hurricane ravaged countries and wonder how they will endure? They possess the dormant pioneering gene within them. It’s part of that survival instinct that kicks up within all of us when faced with this kind of travesty.

That’s why preserving the Francis Stupey Cabin is so important.

It reminds us of what it took to leave your homeland and all that you knew was sacred. To venture across an ocean and forge a land that was different, deal with people that were different, with different religious and languages. One had to have a clear and logical path to survival – and yet it was done not just as a single family unit, it was also done as a pioneering unit. These founding families joined forces in those tough times of blizzards and illness, of droughts and growing pains. And when it was all over, to come out the other side of all of it smarter and stronger.

The cabin, built in 1847 is Highland Park’s oldest standing structure. It’s located in Laurel Park between the library and city hall. The cabin was given to the people of Highland Park as a Centennial gift in 1968 by Exmoor Country Club where ii sat as the caddy shack for many years. The Historical Society moved, restored and furnished the cabin in the period of 1850. For more information or make a donation, check out the Highland Park Historical Society’s website, highlandparkhistory.com.

Bill Gates is on the current cover of Rotarian Magazine and rightfully so.

The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation pledged to match 2:1 Rotary International’s commitment of $50 million dollars per year for the next three years totaling $450 million.

All of this money we’ve pledged is to kill an enemy we’ve been chasing for decades. One we’ve got cornered and in our sights.

Polio.

The statistics of new polio cases is exciting to see. As of this week (September 20^th), according to the Global Polio Eradication Initiative (GPEI), only 10 new cases of wild poliovirus (WPV) and 49 Vaccine-derived Poliovirus (cVDPV) cases have been reported globally this year. These WPV cases were in endemic countries while the cVDPV vases were in non-endemic countries.

Last year at this time we had 24 new WPV cases reported and 3cVDPV. The total for 2016 was 37 WPV and five cVDPV cases globally. There was no mention of why they thought there was such an increase in the cVDPV cases. That would be interesting to learn why there was such an up shoot in numbers in the last year.

When you breakdown by country where these reports of new cases are occurring, Afghanistan (6) and Pakistan (4) for the WPV. Nine of the 49 Vaccine Derived Polio Virus cases were reported in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the rest were the Syrian Arab Republic.

This October 24^th is World Polio Day. Leaders from across our land and Rotary Clubs around the world will pledge to eradicate this enemy through Polio Plus.  Launched in 1985 by Rotary, this effort is overseen by the Global Polio Eradication Initiative. – Along with Rotary, that includes the World Health Organization, UNICEF, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Its mission: to immunize all the children of the world against polio.

For those who like to throw money at a cause – this one is it. I can’t avoid the cliche – there is light at the end of this tunnel. Rotary is there in the hills of small countries, helping to smooth the way for healthcare workers and politicians to realize they both can meet the needs of the people by letting them into their villages to get the vaccinations they need.

Just like many of us last year said we never thought we’d live to see the day when the Chicago Cubs won the World Series, we are on the cusp of seeing the actual eradication Polio.

We really are ‘thisclose’….

Now that may sound like a great charity – a foundation of mammoth proportions, but it just came to me. I claim it here – now – to be used later for something good. I hope.

This is what I meant by it:

Over the weekend we said farewell to a member in one of my Writers Groups as she moves a couple states over to bask in retirement.

It wasn’t a real ‘good-bye’ – more of a ‘see you later’.

You see, in my other (and first) Writers Group, (a smaller number) we all meet via Facetime/Skype/Hangout/Facebook – however we are able to all hook-up with video screens.  Through job promotions, and other personal happenings, we are no longer within a half hour drive of each other.

And that gave me the idea to link this retiring vagabond – this AARP gypsy, (I call my mother a geriatric gypsy – but this retiring lady is no ‘old’ person!) with us the same way.

Via video.

It shamed me to realize I didn’t think of that when another member left last summer, and I saw him last month for my 40th Class Reunion – I know! Who knew? Why didn’t I think about this option for him when he left for Cheese Land?

Maybe when several of us sign up for another conference in Madison, we might coax him to attend as well. Note to self – make sure he gets on the emails for that. 

That’s the beauty of not only technology and conferences, but of words. Writers can congregate online or in person. We do not discriminate.

So Miss D, we bid you temporary adieu…

…we’ll be seeing you via technology soon!

I posted this on Facebook within the last hour:

Coming back from lunch yesterday this was my conversation:

Me: I’m half way through this book, and I’m not in love with the main characters.
Boss: Well, you created them, why not re-write them?
Me: It’s not a book I’m writing. I’m reading someone else’s story.
Boss: Oh dear.

Question: Do I continue and I hope I warm up to them? Or do I bail?

So far (two minutes in), the suggestion to bail was 2:1.

Now let’s be clear – the book/story only cost me 99 cents (thanks to Amazon) and takes place in modern day England and Las Vegas. While I like to think that I’m metropolitan, cosmopolitan, and I like Neapolitan ice cream, even with the references to Hyacinth Bucket in “Keeping Up Appearances” there is not enough to hold me to the characters.

Why?

Now it’s 3:1.

I wish I could put a finger on one thing. Could it be the wishy-washy back and forth of the female lead? I can’t call her the heroine; and the male lead is pretty much aloof. He may just now be starting to warm up to me.  But if I’m 55% of the way through the book, why it is taking so long? Why can’t I warm up to her family? Her friends?

At least I dislike her cheating ex!

But when I sum it all up, I just don’t care! It’s a cute title, cute premise – done by so many others so I thought I’d give this contemporary romance a try. For 99 cents, why not?

Now it’s 4:1.

This is when Kenny Rogers is singing in my head telling me it’s time to walk away…

At least the character’s name wasn’t Lucille.

Her hair tumbles down her back,

Loose curls fly behind her

She runs from the words

They are tall trees in the forest

haunting her sleep

There is no rest for her.

The poet

looks over her coffee cup out the window

gray day like the night

the words assault her

use me!

no me!

Enough! cries she

I will walk in the sun

choosing my power over the words

(for s.t.)

For those of you who attended the reunion, you heard of the use we have for the money we collected from the Friday and Saturday raffles (a total of $342). Those of you who didn’t get the chance to attend should hear of what this dreamer has in store…for us, the Class of 1977… and the Class of 2027.

This dreamer (and I am the first to tell you I am a Pollyanna), would like to see this class leave a mark on few other students for our 50^th. So we’ve started off small with a couple of 50/50 raffles at the reunion.

We have done much in our fifty-eight years. We’ve built careers, raised families, and are sandwiched between our children and our parents who may be in need of help these days. We’ve looked race and bigotry in the eye, brought women rights and sexuality into the light; and no matter how you look at these things privately we are the threads that when woven together like we were that sunny weekend, are a rich and vibrant tapestry. Our life’s experiences have created textures and hues that enhance this durable fabric. We wear it like a comfortable sweater; wrap ourselves in it as if it were an heirloom quilt.

This tapestry has a story to share with future generations and the Class of 2027 it’s as good a place as any to start. It says the future is yet to be written. Go forth and write.

The idea: to place into the hands of at least three deserving Waukegan High School Seniors, a two thousand dollar scholarship each. Six thousand dollars needs to be raised in ten years – to be distributed at graduation of June 2027. Perhaps we can coax East Class President Mickey Wolff to return home once again for the occasion.

There is still much research to do. Fundraising. Investing. Do we form a 501(c)(3)? The one thing I saw from our reunion weekend is that there is nothing this Class can’t do….

What do you say Class of ’77, are you ready to make another mark?

-Mary Beth

It’s been a week.

In that time my feet have slowly recovered from standing all of Friday night at the Meet & Greet. Over 120 people came – one hundred of you were classmates and you all looked fabulous! Those few hours weren’t enough to catch up with old friends or get to know the new friends we made that night.

That’s why there was a Day Two.

The weather couldn’t have been better – I ordered it back in April when I reserved our shelter. It’d been percolating for four months, so it had to good. Some faces the same as the night before and newer faces made the day even brighter than the Sun.  Bernie and the Bicentennials even made a brief but mute appearance under the shelter! Again, there weren’t enough hours to catch up with everyone and take all the pictures I wanted to take.

Day Three was for letting go.

Twenty seven of us bowled at Bertrand’s and their newly refinished lanes. Several were slick enough that even I fell on approach. Of course, my husband will tell you I can fall without the aid of varnished floors. My knee and hip will tell you otherwise, but they like to complain all the time. We laughed and had a wonderful time.

Thank you to everyone who came to the reunion, especially those who traveled near and far. Thank you classmate Dino Kallianis and Captain Porky’s for the FABULOUS food on Saturday. Thank you Pete and Nick at Anastasia’s for opening your doors to us and thanks to your fantastic team for taking such good care of us Friday night. Thank you to Bertrand’s for having lanes ready and yummy pizza.

Thanks to the members of my Nitty Gritty Committee and their families. We met often and worked long hours getting this together and their families deserve the kudos as well.

Everyone of us had a gift that we brought to the table and that what made this reunion so special. My ladies out there, Shirley, Lydia and Lucille, you did your part, too and you have my undying thanks!

For those who couldn’t make it, you were missed and we hope you make it to the next one – in 5 years! In the meantime, don’t be stranger! Send me your email so we can keep you informed.