Move Over Homeowners Association!

Day 22, Wednesday: Rant about something. Get up on your soapbox and tell us how you really feel. (a pet peeve, a current event, a controversial topic, something your husband or roommate or neighbor or boss does that really ticks you off)

Get ready, readers.

sweat and time, but worth it

I have a beef. There’s no homeowners association in my neighborhood, so I’m not really against them. I’m sure they do great things, but I’ve never been to such an exclusive meeting.

I am, however, in quite a tiff with front lawns. Yes.

Front lawns. 

Before you think I’m crazy, just stay with me and hear me out.

After reading these books:

Ominvore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan

The Food Revolution by John Robbins

Main Street Vegan by Victoria Moran

Food Rules by Michael Pollan

The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan

The One Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka

The Small-Scale Poultry Flock by Harvey Ussery

…to name a few…

And watching these documentaries:

Dirt

The Vanishing of the Bees

Food Inc.

Hungry For Change

 

…let’s just say, I am now a changed person.

I am no expert. I still have a lot more reading to do, a lot more steps to take, in order to live the lifestyle I want to achieve, but I’m getting there. I may not be the most well-read person on the subject of organic food/gardening/local/gmo’s/the impact it all has on our environment, but I know a thing or two.

Plus, I’m passionate about it. That counts for something as well.

The reason I am upset with front lawns is because it has recently dawned on me just how utterly silly they truly are.

What does a front lawn do?

-It looks nice

-It uses tons of water (especially in dry climates)

-It gets looked at

-It keeps homeowners associations and the mean old lady down the street happy

-Uses up oil, for those who mow the lawn (unless you’re using one of those old twisty non-electric things)

When, I wonder, did the front lawn become a staple among American homes? I’m sure there’s some historian who can tell me exactly where the idea stemmed from (probably a European country), what ads in the early 1900’s began to tell folks they needed such a space for grass, and how the idea spread like wildfire, resulting in cookie cutter lawns. I haven’t met him or her yet. If you are one, please, let me know. I am baffled.

But why do I have a problem with something we all grew up with?

Because if everyone used their front lawns for edible gardens, so many of the world’s problems would be solved. 

You read that correctly.

Have you ever thought about it? Using that space, or even half of it, to supply your own family with food? People are so creative. I’ve seen many a Pinterest picture showing a person how to garden using little space. The information is out there, we just need to start paying attention. For those who have both a front and back yard, why not turn that entire backyard into something functional?

Something that will:

-Feed you

-Save you money in the long run

-Put all that water to a good cause (I repeat: saving you $$$)

-Improve your health

-Ensure that the produce you eat is, in fact, organic

-Bring you closer to nature as you raise something up from seed

-Enhance your eating experience

-Help the bee population (I LOVE bees. In fact, I just planted a bunch of flowers and herbs all together from a “Save the Bees” seed mix. They need chemical free resources and we need them.)

-Make you less dependent on big companies and/or government for food (this is so important)

Sounds good, right?

Oh! And you don’t have to mow it. Therefore, you will be using less oil. That’s always a plus, right? (Again, I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure it will run out someday. Why not start a generation of kids who know how to feed themselves?)

You might even get some chickens for such a backyard…as they:

-Help add nutrients into the soil

-Keep pests at a minimum

-Eat weeds and your table scraps (instant compost!)

-They are so cute!

In areas within a city where having chickens might not be allowed, you can try to get the law changed. It’s happened all over the place.

[Click here for my own baby chick adventure.]

Meet Linus

Anyway.

The current food system is in desperate need of repair. If you haven’t noticed, people are gaining weight left and right, healthcare systems are in shock, and more and more people are dependent on some form of medication to live their normal lives.

Why? Because we are eating Food-Like Substances, a term coined by Michael Pollan.

“Populations that eat a so-called Western diet- generally defined as a diet consisting of lots of processed foods and meat, lots of added fat and sugar, lots of refined grains, lots of everything except vegetables, fruits and whole grains- invariably suffer from high rates of the so-called Western diseases: obesity, type 2 diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and cancer.” -Michael Pollan, Food Rules

Any processed food you buy at the store most likely comes from a giant crop that is depleting the ground of nitrogen, harming water sources, and there’s a good chance it’s a GMO. (Genetically Modified Organism)

We’re not Generation Y, folks.

We are The Guinea Pig Generation. There are all kinds of scientific things happening to our food, often involving chemicals, that we are mostly unaware of and most definitely exposed to on a daily basis. And there has been little or no testing done to determine what long term effects these changes and chemicals will have on our long term health. (Or short term. Read about my struggle with acne and how I ended it once and for all here.)

Some people swear that the key to losing weight is counting calories. I’d like to suggest something else.

Never look at another calorie count/nutrition label again.

Look only to the ingredient list. For this holds the key to what you are eating.

“It’s gotten to the point where we don’t see foods anymore but instead look right through them to the nutrients (good and bad) they contain, and of course to the calories- all these invisible qualities in our food that, properly understood, supposedly hold the secret to eating well.

…I learned that in fact science knows a lot less about nutrition that you would expect- that in fact nutrition science is, to put it charitably, a very young science.” -Michael Pollan, Food Rules

Who cares if what you’re eating has more grams of fat? It could be from a great source, like coconut oil or nuts. You will only know if you look at the ingredients list. And even better, make sure that list is filled with food you recognize. Ethoxylated diglycerides? Calcium propionate? Ammonium Sulfate? DUDE. Why are these things everywhere the eye can see? Are you okay with that, when you really think about it?

This is just me, but here are my general rules while shopping:

-Look at the ingredients and try to choose an item with as few as possible (I try not to pass 5 ingredients)

-Make sure they’re all pronounceable (unless you’re with a rocket scientist)

-Shop only on the outside of the store (Ever noticed how processed foods tend to be in the aisles? Produce, bulk items, and foods in their natural state are often found on the periphery of the store)

-I look for Non-GMO Project items

-I get produce that is in season

-I buy at least 95% organic, if not 100% (NOTE: if an item is local, that beats out organic….because many local sources cannot afford the organic certification)

And before you go telling me that this is too expensive, let me ask you yet another question:

How much do you spend on your TV access, your smartphone, or your monthly medication for high blood pressure? Priorities. I cannot say we are rich. But I can say that our top priority when spending comes down to what ends up on our dinner plates. Investing in your health is a real thing. 

At the end of the day, why not do your shopping in your yard? 

It could change the world we live in for the better.

I promise!

{I’d like to share some exciting finds. I only drink soy, almond, or oat milk. The only problem I had with these was … you guessed it… their ingredient lists. They are so often filled with “filler” items like carrageenan or tricalcium posphate. We make our own oat milk sometimes, but on days when we run out and I just want to buy something, we resort to whatever we can get at the store. Today Greg came home with an awesome item!!!!!! WESTSOY Organic Unsweetned Soymilk! Ingredients: filtered water, whole organic soybeans. HALLELUJAH}

{Another fun note: we have lettuce, spinach and Lambsquarters [a wild green, often thrown away as a “weed”] growing out back and I haven’t had to buy my greens at the store. It’s so exciting. I cannot even convey how happy this makes me! Inside and out!!}

So much love,

I just want YOU to be healthy,

and glowing,

and happy,

<3 LOU

um… I hope my rant wasn’t too ranty

The Best of the Best

 Blog Every Day In May Challenge

Day 21, Tuesday: A list of links to your favorite posts in your archives

lou and lou

I know you are all probably dying to know about my hippy weekend. But alas, I’m still waiting on some pictures from my sister. I don’t have a camera at the moment, or a smart phone, so I’ll just have to wait. (and so will you)

In the meantime, this challenge allows me for sort of an easy day. However, I have spent a lot of time on my favorite blogs (the best of the best, in my humble opinion), and I HOPE beyond hope that you will take a look at them.

I’d also be honored :)

Blogs:

It’s Official- We Are Parents

Lou’s Really Good At…

Things I {Hate To} Love

Gone Girl, Marriage, And Being Cool

Confidence, Truly

Short Stories:

Proud Mothers

APPEAL

I Looked Over Jordan

Poetry:

Fare Thee Well

Just Exactly

It Was Life

LOVE, Lou

 

Good Ol’ Rejection: It Makes Us Stronger…?

“There’s nothing like rejection to make you do an inventory of yourself.” -James Lee Burke

Today I was going to write about my hippy adventure to a Tie Dye Music Festival in the mountains of New Mexico, but I’ll wait another day or two.

BECAUSE…

today’s topic is actually one I want to write about.

Keeping up with the Blog Every Day In May Challenge, here goes.

Day 20, Monday: Get real. Share something you’re struggling with right now.

pensive mode

As a writer, how could I not have something I’m struggling with?

It’s called getting rejected…. Again. And again. And again.

This month, in particular, was really hard. I might as well share why.

I am constantly sending out a string of query letters. To those of you who aren’t aware, a query letter is a one page summary of a manuscript (like the back of a book jacket) along with some other info, like who you are and why you wrote it. It’s very professional, short and concise, hard (as hell!) to write, and easy for agents to reject.

To put it bluntly, I’ve stopped counting my rejections letters. I’ve also stopped counting the amount of agents who never even responded, which is another form of rejection. “If we haven’t responded within four weeks, consider it a no.” 

“I wrote poems in my corner of the Brooks Street station. I sent them to two editors who rejected them right off. I read those letters of rejection years later and I agreed with those editors.” -Carl Sandburg

One good thing: Looking back, I am glad that the very first query letter I sent out for a young adult book titled Trajectory got only rejections. The manuscript wasn’t ready to be published, but I was excited. I’d finished a 130,000+ word novel and my adrenaline was a-pumpin’. (that, by the way, is way too long for a first time author. or so I read.)

It’s the countless ones I’ve received since then that are always a tiny sting to my pride. I am blessed to be a pretty optimistic person. I can smile and laugh and be genuinely happy, even if something is going horribly wrong. I just can.

So you can imagine how HAPPY and JUMP-UP-AND-DOWN-EXCITED I was when I received my first letter back from an agent… that was NOT a rejection. After reading the query letter and ten pages (some agents ask for a first chapter, first ten pages, etc.) she wanted to read the entire manuscript. This was for my latest young adult adventure, a dystopian, semi-futuristic book called Exceptional. I cried. I screamed. I saw thousands of different versions of my future flashing before my very eyes. This could be it, I allowed myself to think.

Then I waited for 9 weeks. YES, 9 weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeks. So long. It felt like a million lifetimes. I checked my e-mail like a madwoman. I was sure she’d reject it, and then sure she would love it. If she liked the first ten pages, why wouldn’t she like the rest? Right? Or… right?

And then, you guessed, it. I got the response. A good ol’ rejection.

And I did cry (kind of a lot). I spent the entire day looking up information like this:

Rejections of Famous Authors

Sylvia Plath: There certainly isn’t enough genuine talent for us to take notice. 

Rudyard Kipling: I’m sorry Mr. Kipling, but you just don’t know how to use the English language. 

J.G. Ballard: The author of this book is beyond psychiatric help. 

Emily Dickinson: Your poems are quite as remarkable for defects as for beauties and are generally devoid of true poetical qualities. [what does that even mean?]

Ernest Hemingway: It would be extremely rotten taste, to say nothing of being horribly cruel, should we want to publish it. 

source

And that made me feel a tiny bit better. It’s always nice to know we aren’t alone, right? I mean, even Harry Potter got rejected for years. There is always hope. It’s just that some days it’s extremely difficult to keep that in mind.

Some days I wonder if I should just get my work extra-edited and self publish. Should I? I have no idea. {the only editor I would trust, btw}

“No one put a gun to your head and ordered you to become a writer. One writes out of his own choice and must be prepared to take the rough spots along the road with a certain equanimity, though allowed some grinding of the teeth.”
—Stanley Ellin

How many more years will I wait for an agent sitting in an office in New York to like my query letters? It’s been two. I have hardly paid my writer’s dues, but still. I have decided to pursue a career and life that sets me up for the most rejections of almost any other profession I can think of. I chose it. I made my bed, so the saying goes.

In the meantime, I’ll keep focusing on quotes like these:

“Failure? I never encountered it. All I ever met were temporary setbacks.” -Dottie Walters

“Dearer are those who reject us as unworthy, for they add another life; they build a heaven before us whereof we had not dreamed, and thereby supply to us new powers out of the recesses of the spirit, and urge us to new and unattempted performances.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’ll keep forcing those rejection letters to make me stronger and more determined, rather than beaten down.

I will never give up. I can promise you that. {I love my characters too much…I WANT you to meet them.}

just to name a few…

Love, Lou

A Recap and a Teaser

Day 19, Sunday: Five of your favorite blogs and what you love about them

PLEASE go look at this post of mine, about three amazing and talented women and their blogs:

The Lady Okie

JenEric Generation

Olive Me Post

There, you will find links to my all time favorite posts of theirs, as well as little snippets on why I heart them so much. My feelings have not changed :)

Stay tuned…

for tomorrow…

you will find out WHY Greg and I were dancing yesterday with tie dye and hippes and bangos surrounding us! 

fun, fun, fun… peace and love, man

Love, Lou

Lemon Moon {Part II}

And just in case you missed Part I….

LEMON MOON {Part II}

By Melinda Williams

 

 

August 2010

PIPER

My mom was angry. Come to think of it, I don’t think there was a time I could remember her smiling, except for maybe a moment or two when she liked the taste of her vodka. I was seven before I realized that not all moms drank that stinky clear liquid that made them act differently. Then I turned nine and had seen enough to know that my life wasn’t as good as some. And on the day, other than still having my little brother around, it wasn’t any better. I’d say… it was worse, actually.

I woke up to a familiar sound: my mom’s snores. There was something missing from the sounds in our house, though. Usually my older sister Tilly was up first, making breakfast. My mom was mad whenever Tilly slept in. I could always hear her humming. She wasn’t all that great with cooking and when she did manage to do something right, the loud clanking of pots and pans, spoons and knives, was the indicator.

“Peter? Wake up… I think we need to make breakfast.” I heard nothing coming from the kitchen.

“Huh?” My little brother, who was now six, opened his eyes and breathed in my face. I almost passed out, his breath was so bad. I coughed, got past it, and pulled on his hand.

“Come on.”

“Where’s Tilly?” He whispered.

“I don’t know.”

Every once in a while Tilly was somewhere else. I wasn’t too worried about her. She was my best friend, a year older than me, but we were okay when we weren’t together. She called me her home base. It didn’t mean she couldn’t go around the other bases now and again, she also said.

I had Peter crack open the eggs, check for pieces of shells (my mom hated getting an egg shell in her breakfast) and stir in the milk and salt. While he did that I toasted bread and buttered it. I set out my mom’s liquor on the counter. I cooked the eggs Peter had stirred up. He and I ate our scrambled eggs and toast with some orange juice and waited in silence for whatever would come next. Tilly never walked in the door. Peter and I were both silent. I tried not to look at him, because seeing his worried face would only make me worried too. Since our world had already been rocked, we both knew there was no telling what might happen in the hours to come. We ate in silence and listened to nothing but sirens outside, passing by our home every now and again. Looking back, there were more than usual. A lot more.

My back stiffened when I heard my mom approach. She was standing right behind us.

“And just what the hell is this?”

“Breakfast…”

“What the hell is this?” She said again, louder.

I said it again quietly, never sure how to deal with her. “Breakfast.”

Tilly was best when it came to dealing with my mom. I could see my brother closing his eyes out of the corner of my own.

“WHERE IS SHE? You turn around right now and tell me where your goddamn sister is.”

I stood up from my stool and faced her. “I don’t know. She wasn’t here when-”

Then she slapped me across the mouth. I didn’t cry; crying was for babies. And it wasn’t the first time she’d been mad enough to do that.

“She best come back. That girl best come back here before I get mad.” Then she wiped her mouth with her hand, patted her bony rib cage and picked up her drink. She took a gulp and then said, “Welp, guess you better get to that laundry I saw still sitting there dirty in the other room. If your sister ran away and left you to do all this shit, I’ll be angry. The hell does she think…” and she walked away, grumbling under her breath.

“What do we do now?” Peter asked me with wide eyes.

“Laundry,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. So Peter and I spent the day cleaning, watching TV, and trying to keep away from my mom. We never did go outside. I remember hearing my neighbor, an old cat lady, screaming. She screamed and screamed… but I think Peter and I passed it off as something she might do. You never know what an old lady with ten cats would be up to. I got worried when the afternoon got later and later.

“Do you think Tilly is still at Ben’s house?” That was my only guess; her latest boyfriend.

Peter still had wide eyes and he looked at me to shake his head slowly. “Piper?”

“What?”

“She didn’t sneak out last night to see him. I know it! She-”

“Sh!” I shut him up because I saw my mom shift in her bed through the door. I raised my hand for him to keep talking once my mom settled down again.

Peter’s voice was so soft I could barely hear it. “She was there. I remember seeing her when I went to the bathroom. I woke up in the middle of the night. I don’t think she would have left so early!” He sounded hysterical, though still quiet, and his eyes watered up.

“It’s okay!” But I knew right then and there it wasn’t okay. I ran to Tilly’s room and looked around. Peter stood right next to me and was breathing hard. Her bed wasn’t made. It looked like she had gotten up without moving the covers because they were bunched up around her pillow. An open book had fallen to the floor, bending the middle pages. Tilly would never let a book of hers get disheveled. She took care of the things she bought with her own money, which was almost everything. Another weird thing: the charm she usually held in her hand while falling asleep was lying beside her pillow. Tilly had been given the charm shaped like a ballet dancer when she was really little. I was a toddler and my family was visiting the beach. A tanned gypsy lady gave it to Tilly without making her pay for it. Tilly thought the moment was magical and so every night she tried to have good dreams, holding onto the charm and praying until she fell asleep. It was her deepest secret so only I knew it. The charm was there, and not in her special box sitting on the desk. My heart began to beat faster.

“She could be anywhere…” I said.

“Where?” Peter asked again. The way he said it frightened me, because he said it exactly how I had just been thinking the same. Tilly had never been gone from home this long before. My mom would wake up eventually. I began calculating. I was good at that sort of things. I could figure things out, like when to take the water off the stove right before it began to whistle, how many times I could ride my bike around the block without anyone noticing I was gone, or how many times Peter could drop something before my mom finally yelled at him. I figured that Peter and I could go and look for Tilly before my mom woke up for dinner. We had three hours. We could look around the block and Ben didn’t live too far away.

“Come on, we’re going to go find her.”

“We’re going to leave? What’ll mom think, with us all gone?”

“She won’t ever know,” I assured my little brother. I took his hand and we walked out the front door and into a world we had never seen before.

 

M & M

Day 17, Friday: A favorite photo of yourself and why

Here it is:

true happiness (Meredith in pink, me in purple)

I love this photograph so much, I’ve already used it in a blog.

This is us, the twins, when we were little. We spent at least one week every single summer in Ocean City, Maryland with my dad’s side of the family. Those summer weeks were always my favorite. This year we still had the matching-but-different-color swimsuits and the same little blonde ponytails. We loved to hold hands. We hugged each other and laughed. I doubt I’ve ever been so happy, or ever can match the happiness that is captured here in this photograph. Being young was such a carefree time. I will always have Meredith, which is something so special that it almost brings tears to my eyes.

I love so many other pictures. I love pictures of Greg and me, ones with my family or pictures from really great trips I remember. I don’t even remember this particular one being taken, but it is and always will be my very favorite.

Bonus: that’s my totally hippy uncle Mark there in the background! Love it!

May we all be as happy as the two little girls in this picture :)

Love Lou

My Lot In Life

Blog Every Day In May Challenge

Day 16, Thursday: Something difficult about your “lot in life” and how you’re working to overcome it

Um, not to sound boastful, but I’m feeling a little bit too lucky when it comes to my “lot in life.”

This is not a blog set up for a whole lot of complaining. 

I have so much (too much?) to be thankful for. Every once in a while I wonder when everything will come crashing down because, jeez, can life really stay this good? And it’s not because Greg and I are making tons of money and buying fancy things. It’s because I’m really learning to love what I am already blessed with.

Here’s a list that may not sound like much to some, but it sounds like a great life to me:

I have….

A sturdy, comfortable house to keep me warm at night. 

A sweet husband who takes care of me in his own way. 

A laptop, and a piece of paper, so I can write.

A bookshelf filled with stories. 

A job with nice coworkers and flexibility.

Little baby chicks! 

A beautiful and loving family. 

A body that is able to work outside and go on walks.

A mind to think about fictional stories all day long. 

see what I mean? Too lucky

Must I go on? 

There was a time when I thought I wanted a lot more. The high school me, who is long gone, wanted to marry rich and drive a super expensive car (I won’t even tell you what type… it’s too embarrassing) and not have to work a day in my life. 

So many things have happened in the last six years to change the core of who I am and what I yearn for. Now, all I want is another warm morning where I can sit outside and the hopes of seeing a new type of bird in my backyard. (Yes, Greg and I are amateur bird watchers.)

Today I’m choosing to be grateful instead of wanting. I am choosing to be content rather than unsettled. I am choosing to go after my dreams rather than a run of the mill life. 

What’s your lot in life? 

Love, Lou 

The Boys!

Sick of reading about baby chickens yet? Good. Me, either. :)

My sweet and cute nephews came by to visit the other day. Oh my gosh. It was soooo fun.

Therefore I’m blowing off the topic for the Blog Everyday in May Challenge and writing about them instead!

Carson, the future farmer, was so good with the baby chicks. He was gentle and didn’t drop them. He seemed to love the chickens. When I told him their names he smiled and said, “That’s silly.” Which it definitely is.

so cute!

he loved her :)

Landon, on the other hand, really loved the chicks, but was more hesitant to hold one. He’d ask to hold one, and when I held a chick out to him, he’d start to say, “No thank you!” It was super sweet. He did pet them very gently.

petting the chicks

just lookin ;)

baby chicks make anyone smile

Then we went out to the garden. And man, were these two little boys excited. They both had a turn to pick garlic. Carson wanted some lettuce to eat later and he even picked spinach and ate it straight from the garden! Smart, I tell you. :) I am always a proud aunt, but it was an especially great moment in time! (Every time I asked Carson if he still wanted to be a farmer he’d say, “Um, I don’t know!” Which sometimes means yes, and sometimes means no. I guess I’ll just have to keep on keepin’ on and show him what it’s all about. Then he can really decide!)

exploring

So proud. So amazing.

All in all, it was one of the most special days I’ve ever had. I loved being able to show the boys something new and fun. Their smiles mean the world to me.

Love, Aunty Lou

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chicken Nuggets

How sad! I’d never let anyone eat my little chicken babies. But I thought, you know, [evil] McDonalds aside, they are little bity cute chicken nuggets. Right?

Today’s Blog Everyday In May Challenge couldn’t be easier.

Day 14, Tuesday: Ten things that make you really happy

1) The Chicken Named Linus (named by Greg) (All of my chickens have boy names. It’s the new age thing right? I’m just being a typical parent in the two thousand tens) Linus, we suspect, might be a rooster. {S}he is the most alert, the tallest and biggest, and has different mannerisms. Always on the lookout, always scoping out whatever new thing we put in their box, always the first to explore. I’m pretty sure {s}he is at the top of the pecking order already.

The Leader

2) The Chicken Named Ray Bradbury (named by Meredith) Poor Ray. She seems to be at the bottom of this pecking order deal, and gets pasty butt all the time. I’ve held her under the running water to get it off, and then blow dried her butt. Yes, I’ve done these things out of love. She is the most “pecked on” but seems to be getting along just fine.

The Little Guy

3) The Chicken Named Mu’réigh (Pronounced like Murry, but hey, he’s kind of pretentious) (Named by Alex) Mu’réigh is the least problematic, calm, and normal chicken ever. So cute. She’s also becoming the fattest, or at least the widest. She’s a little ball of fluff!!!

The No Problem Gal

4) The Chicken Named John Steinbeck (Named by Yours Truly) John is the most standoffish. She is the only one who won’t eat out of my hand. She turns around or turns her head, letting me know that the trust needs to be gained. She kind of reminds me of John Steinbeck’s writing… a bit unsure of the powers at hand. Right? I will win her love.

The Stand Off Gal

5) Gregory Daniel Williams aka Lou He’s the kindest, funniest, handsomest (a word I made up) guy in the world. He makes my every moment worth living. I look up to him and I think we’re a perfect match.

The Love of My Life

6) Being Married (which pretty much refers back to #5, just anything to do with Greg in general!) Our winter wedding was beautiful and perfect, though I must say, life after the wedding is even better. The last three and a half years have been the best in my life. Greg and I have both changed a lot. We’re hardly the same people. But we have changed together… which is the most important part. He’s such a great guy. More on Greg here. :)

January 2, 2010

Our first dance!

We were so nervous!

7) Being an Aunt to these little guys. Carson and Landon :) They are so cute and hilarious. Landon loves cars and Buzz Lightyear. Carson loves the Hulk and animals. (Carson says he wants to be a farmer when he grows up!) They know how to share, say thank you, and give great hugs and kisses. I love my nephews!!

Carson and Landon <3

Their trip to my house this week. They loved picking out garlic and lettuce!

8) Family  I think my parents did a pretty good job raising us all. My oldest sister, Jessica is the only one with dark hair and green eyes. She stands out in a crowd because of her exotic beauty. She’s done a great job at leading the way in this world. Emily (mother of Carson and Landon!) is so strong. She is already such a great example of an amazing mother. She is the one ALL my guy friends in high school had a crush on. Who can blame them? Meredith is my best friend. I am so lucky to be a twin… and not just to anyone, but to the best girl in the world. She teaches me so much about how to be a better person.

Jessica, Emily, my mom, Me, Meredith

Love them!

9) Reading (of course) If you hadn’t realized yet, I love to read. I spend most of my time doing it. I get lost in books. I get attached to characters. It’s my favorite thing to do!

And I always do my makeup, curl my hair, and go out to the flower groves to do it. (ha)

10) Last but not least, WRITING Writing makes me happy. I feel like I have a purpose in this life every time I sit down to write. Someday you will be able to pick my books up off the shelf at your local bookstore, but for now, read my short stories here and my poetry here. I’d be so honored it you did!!!

Me, just being me… happy :)

<3 Lou

Fare Thee Well

Blog Everyday In May Challenge

Day 13, Monday: Issue a public apology. This can be as funny or as serious or as creative as you want it to be.

This has actually been quite a year for apologies. I’ve let go of a few grudges once I realized that they were only hurting me, weighing me down, and making my life a little more difficult. I’ve really had to swallow my pride and apologize for the way I’ve wronged people. Life happens, but I don’t think that’s any excuse. I feel so much better now that I’ve 1) admitted what I did wrong and 2) said sorry, and truly meant it. So it goes, I’ll probably never have to stop apologizing and bringing things back around. That’s a constant cycle. But I do think that we can always learn to treat people better and to forgive people, too. 

I’m constantly reminded of Wildewood’s lyrics in their song Several Things: 

…If I said I was better for the paths I have trod on

Would that justify 

All that I have done?

 

…And the thought of infinitely paying the price

For the selfish way that I have laid down my dice

It terrifies me to no end

With several things I have never said 

 

I am constantly asking myself this question. 

Well, that experience really made me who I am.

I had to go through it, even if it was all caused by me.

Well, it’s what I wanted at the time. 

No. Those excuses are merely that… excuses. Therefore, this blog today, won’t be a specific public apology, because many of those are too personal and hey, you’d be proud, I’m dealing with those things person to person! yay. 

I will close out today with a new poem. As always, thanks for stopping by Hey Lou. 

Fare Thee Well

I will see it someday

The shooting star promised

Or I could

The potential is there even if it doesn’t happen

In this life

 

I will never

So many things

This, too, could happen

But I do every time I rest and breath in and remember

Where people (I) think it’s just black

 

Unexpected

 

the gray area

the light

the only thing

not here

 

I wish

I wish my

I wish my name was

No, never mind

 

And I still

Have never seen a shooting star

Not once

 

So I say

Fare thee well

And I realize, after all of that

I have roots

Right here

 

100 I’m gonna change my minds

That time

Wasted

 

I will take these old shoes to get where

I am meant to be

I have a Grey area right here

That is better

That is Real

 

And I don’t need shooting stars

 

Love, Lou

(and I’m sorry!)