Well my friends, it's the first week of Anything-Can-Happen month and I'm feeling the drive. The drive to write. The drive to create. The drive to (goddess help me) clean and paint and otherwise tidy my nest.
The up side? I've tried a couple of left-over cases. I've re-written some chapters in my current work in progress and I've written some new from whole cloth. Those re-written are better than what came before and I'm experientially optimistic about the new. I'm also wondering how my life got so...so...life-like.
I'm still straddling two worlds trying to figure out how to get paid for doing something I love and I believe in. It isn't as polarizing for me now as it was eight short weeks ago. Now there's more balance, more ease.
Wow that sounds weird. So does this whole blogging thing if you think about it. I'm not that interested in describing my favorite band or color or Packer for public consumption. But, I do enjoy sharing those bits of insight I think are meaningful with my rather limited, and by and large unsolicited, audience. Sometimes life just matters in the moment and that should be celebrated, however quietly.
So I'm off on this new adventure of where the fu** do I go from here and I'm trying not only to have fun on the ride but to have something meaningful and lasting come from it. I guess we'll see. How many books of quality can I create in a year? How many organic farmers can I learn from and emulate? How many amendments can I suggest to the constitution? How many times can I have my parents, my in-laws and my children to breakfast? How many windows can I afford to replace in my house?
Some small questions. Some big. What will you choose as your questions for the next nine months of 2012? My life is shifting so quickly and yet so easily into areas of interest I wouldn't have contemplated a year ago. I hope yours is too, so long as that shift is moving in a positive direction for you.
Here's to your wishes, your dreams, your goals, large and small; may they guide you toward your best self and a life of balance. I know I'm still juggling. Peace.
Leigh
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
My Life in Photos of Others aka: I don't grow old, only my friends children do.
Today is Somerled: "Highlander's Earl of Somerled"'s Birthday.
This may not seem like much to the world at large but, it means the world to me. I had a black lab named Shannon that our family inherited from the Wilkes when I was 12. My world changed with that dog. It changed again when my neighbor ( I lived in the boon-docks so I had neighbors you could count on one hand) said to me after his constantly chained sheepdog died: 'It's just a dog'. That dog didn't deserve his chain or his owner.
Somerled is the second love of my canine life and the closest thing I have to a non-judgmental friend since my Grandma-Mac died. To say he is loved is to say I breathe.
We spent more than $3,000.00 in a weekend to keep him well when we were told his heart was giving out...thank God I had my 'what if' fund. That was four years ago. Somerled has owned my heart since we met. He's taught me love and loyalty matter more than where you live or how fine your mattress. He's kind and always greets me at the door. Unconditional is so trite when it's applied as a descriptive. Somer's more than that, he's present. Every moment of every day he's present giving his support, his love and his humor. Beauty is a funny thing...when it manifests in your life and it greets you at the door, you are Blessed.
I've been gifted with spirits human and animal who have graced my life and added depths to it. I thank you, One and All.
Happy Birthday Somerled. May I be as worthy a human as you are an ambassador for your breed (Scottish Deerhounds) and dogs everywhere. I'll see you when I pass, Dear One.
This may not seem like much to the world at large but, it means the world to me. I had a black lab named Shannon that our family inherited from the Wilkes when I was 12. My world changed with that dog. It changed again when my neighbor ( I lived in the boon-docks so I had neighbors you could count on one hand) said to me after his constantly chained sheepdog died: 'It's just a dog'. That dog didn't deserve his chain or his owner.
Somerled is the second love of my canine life and the closest thing I have to a non-judgmental friend since my Grandma-Mac died. To say he is loved is to say I breathe.
We spent more than $3,000.00 in a weekend to keep him well when we were told his heart was giving out...thank God I had my 'what if' fund. That was four years ago. Somerled has owned my heart since we met. He's taught me love and loyalty matter more than where you live or how fine your mattress. He's kind and always greets me at the door. Unconditional is so trite when it's applied as a descriptive. Somer's more than that, he's present. Every moment of every day he's present giving his support, his love and his humor. Beauty is a funny thing...when it manifests in your life and it greets you at the door, you are Blessed.
I've been gifted with spirits human and animal who have graced my life and added depths to it. I thank you, One and All.
Happy Birthday Somerled. May I be as worthy a human as you are an ambassador for your breed (Scottish Deerhounds) and dogs everywhere. I'll see you when I pass, Dear One.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Day One and a little bit o' Burns
Today, January 25, 2012, is my official first full-time writing day. It's also the great Scottish Bard's birthday. Whether that will be significant in the days and weeks and years to come, I can only guess, but today I'm guessing I will remember it as an auspicious moment in time. A time when I chose the path less traveled and scared the sh** out of myself and changed my life in the process.
Sounds like an awful lot to live up to, doesn't it? Well, I believe small moments define us and our respective paths. As to it being Burn's Night well that could just be a happy coincidence or it could mean that the bard somewhere in the cosmos is smiling and perhaps laughing as I and others like me try to put pen to paper, finger to key-board, yadayadayada, and create something enjoyable.
So in the Spirit of the Bard and Creative souls everywhere I salute you and your efforts big and small, good and worthy of tossing in the trash and re-doing. Even those efforts mean we are in fact "doing". Who knows where this path will ultimately lead, it keeps changing as I travel further along. I'm just glad on Day One that got up and started walking.
In Honor of Robby Burns, may you:
"...catch the moments as they fly, and use them as ye ought, man: Believe me, happiness is shy, and comes not aye when sought..." (1787) from A Bottle and Friend
Happy Burns Day & Night
Leigh
Sounds like an awful lot to live up to, doesn't it? Well, I believe small moments define us and our respective paths. As to it being Burn's Night well that could just be a happy coincidence or it could mean that the bard somewhere in the cosmos is smiling and perhaps laughing as I and others like me try to put pen to paper, finger to key-board, yadayadayada, and create something enjoyable.
So in the Spirit of the Bard and Creative souls everywhere I salute you and your efforts big and small, good and worthy of tossing in the trash and re-doing. Even those efforts mean we are in fact "doing". Who knows where this path will ultimately lead, it keeps changing as I travel further along. I'm just glad on Day One that got up and started walking.
In Honor of Robby Burns, may you:
"...catch the moments as they fly, and use them as ye ought, man: Believe me, happiness is shy, and comes not aye when sought..." (1787) from A Bottle and Friend
Happy Burns Day & Night
Leigh
Monday, January 2, 2012
Cha-Cha-CCHHaannggess...
I've just ended a twenty year chapter of my life, seventeen of which I used to define Who I was and What I Did.
Strange, now just three days later, to think of the Momentousness of my decision to change, to risk identity and purpose, at this point in my life. Weirder yet is to think, if not Now, When? (For those of you frustrated with my arbitrary capitalization, I do so to emphasize my emotion or in the alternative for my more literal friends, to emphasize my intent to form a new path).
So, I'm moving forward with trepidation, hope and what I hope resembles Grace toward a New and hopefully more elemental self with the time and opportunity to care and change more than just the way I approach life, but the community out my door. I think it's time to stop and plant the roses, to write words worth reading and to make a difference no matter how small in our Universal quest to make Our World a more Welcoming and Holistic Community for each of us.
E Pluribus Unum {From Many One}
Thoughts?
Strange, now just three days later, to think of the Momentousness of my decision to change, to risk identity and purpose, at this point in my life. Weirder yet is to think, if not Now, When? (For those of you frustrated with my arbitrary capitalization, I do so to emphasize my emotion or in the alternative for my more literal friends, to emphasize my intent to form a new path).
So, I'm moving forward with trepidation, hope and what I hope resembles Grace toward a New and hopefully more elemental self with the time and opportunity to care and change more than just the way I approach life, but the community out my door. I think it's time to stop and plant the roses, to write words worth reading and to make a difference no matter how small in our Universal quest to make Our World a more Welcoming and Holistic Community for each of us.
E Pluribus Unum {From Many One}
Thoughts?
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Life in Late Summer
At 7:50p.m. this evening I walked past my daughter's room and tried to shut off the light. She wasn't there and the light wasn't on. Just the echo of the late summer sunshine illuminating a now empty space. The cat waits in vain for her return and the papers, long forgotten, rustle on her desk.
To say I miss my girl is like saying it's hard to breathe under water.
At 7:51p.m. I'm sitting on my back porch with my son, enjoying the light as it filters through the trees illuminating the May Pole I made with my children in Spring and haven't had the heart to fully Autumnize yet. He isn't listening to me, he's got headphones on as he lifts weights to: EYE OF THE TIGER and envisions himself as Sly Stallone. If I were imagining a stud I wanted to emulate, it'd be Jason Statham, but I get the Rocky thing.
8:06 p.m. I'm trying hard not to cry. I'm looking at baby photos. I'm re-living everything I did right and the more than I'm comfortable with list of things I've done wrong, wondering, exactly, how does one summarize a few short years of parenthood where you hope to heck you got it right, and you're scared to death, and you just want to hold them close. My God. My Goddess. My Infinite Consciousness, how do I do this job of parenting well?
I love my deck. I smell the roses. I enjoy the birds. I miss my girl. I enjoy my son. I live, I love, I slay...(my kids will get this)...therefore I AM.
And I miss my girl.
All thoughts on Love and Loss and Change Welcome.
To say I miss my girl is like saying it's hard to breathe under water.
At 7:51p.m. I'm sitting on my back porch with my son, enjoying the light as it filters through the trees illuminating the May Pole I made with my children in Spring and haven't had the heart to fully Autumnize yet. He isn't listening to me, he's got headphones on as he lifts weights to: EYE OF THE TIGER and envisions himself as Sly Stallone. If I were imagining a stud I wanted to emulate, it'd be Jason Statham, but I get the Rocky thing.
8:06 p.m. I'm trying hard not to cry. I'm looking at baby photos. I'm re-living everything I did right and the more than I'm comfortable with list of things I've done wrong, wondering, exactly, how does one summarize a few short years of parenthood where you hope to heck you got it right, and you're scared to death, and you just want to hold them close. My God. My Goddess. My Infinite Consciousness, how do I do this job of parenting well?
I love my deck. I smell the roses. I enjoy the birds. I miss my girl. I enjoy my son. I live, I love, I slay...(my kids will get this)...therefore I AM.
And I miss my girl.
All thoughts on Love and Loss and Change Welcome.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Officially the mother of an Adult (and not feeling old). Warning:Not for young eyes, esp. if you're related to me.
Today, July 14, 2011 my wonderful pea turns 18.
This day was foreshadowed by an almost surreal weekend over the 4th of July. Aidanne has been taking her brother (12) to Blue Mound where they both are working as caddies. This left a full 5 days where my husband and I were alone all day for the first time in 18 years.
It was almost like dating...we actually have something to talk about other than our children...wow, what a concept. I like it.
Vince is loving it. We're young (we've been married 24 years on the 11th, but I was 12 when we said 'I do') so we still enjoy seeing each other naked. (I have a feeling I'm going to feel young enough for this when I'm 95 and he's 99. I'll keep you updated in 50+ years.) We were giggling like teenagers with the thrill of being in the buff in broad daylight without fear of young eyes being scarred for life. Almost gives one a reason to look forward to a sometimes empty nest.
Probably more information than you, dear reader, want or need to know, which is why I'm not publicizing this particular post. My point is this: life changes and gives us circumstances that could and sometimes will be fraught with pain and if not pain a pang for what is lost. It's up to us if we wish to wallow or get naked in the sunshine.
Happy birthday, Sweetheart. I sure am enjoying watching you grow.
This day was foreshadowed by an almost surreal weekend over the 4th of July. Aidanne has been taking her brother (12) to Blue Mound where they both are working as caddies. This left a full 5 days where my husband and I were alone all day for the first time in 18 years.
It was almost like dating...we actually have something to talk about other than our children...wow, what a concept. I like it.
Vince is loving it. We're young (we've been married 24 years on the 11th, but I was 12 when we said 'I do') so we still enjoy seeing each other naked. (I have a feeling I'm going to feel young enough for this when I'm 95 and he's 99. I'll keep you updated in 50+ years.) We were giggling like teenagers with the thrill of being in the buff in broad daylight without fear of young eyes being scarred for life. Almost gives one a reason to look forward to a sometimes empty nest.
Probably more information than you, dear reader, want or need to know, which is why I'm not publicizing this particular post. My point is this: life changes and gives us circumstances that could and sometimes will be fraught with pain and if not pain a pang for what is lost. It's up to us if we wish to wallow or get naked in the sunshine.
Happy birthday, Sweetheart. I sure am enjoying watching you grow.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Ninja-Lawyer-Writes-Romance (and loves it)
Yesterday I started handing out book covers for SECOND CHANCES, my second romance e-book, at the court house, to some of my attorney, commissioner and judge friends and to miscellaneous staff at the court house.
Results and responses were mixed.
Judges, commissioners and attorneys were widely supportive, with the exception of one soon to retire somewhat grumpy male attorney I love but who has no use for anything but male thrillers. Since I love male thrillers too I get it, and although I don't respect his response, I understand it. A win, I'd say, and I took it as one.
The only negative response I got that irritated and grated was when a court reporter referred to the genre in general as "trash" and my novel in particular as one of those "trash novels". Don't get me wrong, I can be as self-deprecating as the next writer, and almost as elitist if I give it the old college try, but trash? Really?
So here's the martial arts part: Be Proud of What you Do. So says my Sensei. So believe I.
I am proud of what I do. All of it. Writing romances that make me and others laugh, cry, empathize, and just plain feel good is more than most of us get to do with our lives. It's meaningful and certainly not something to be bagged and stuck in a land-fill, I don't care how cynical you are, or how literary, everyone loves a love story.
So I say to my writing siblings: Be Proud. You make life better in a time where there's more than enough pain and nastiness to go around.
Trash-My-Ass!
Happy Writing. Happy Reading.
Leigh Morgan
Results and responses were mixed.
Judges, commissioners and attorneys were widely supportive, with the exception of one soon to retire somewhat grumpy male attorney I love but who has no use for anything but male thrillers. Since I love male thrillers too I get it, and although I don't respect his response, I understand it. A win, I'd say, and I took it as one.
The only negative response I got that irritated and grated was when a court reporter referred to the genre in general as "trash" and my novel in particular as one of those "trash novels". Don't get me wrong, I can be as self-deprecating as the next writer, and almost as elitist if I give it the old college try, but trash? Really?
So here's the martial arts part: Be Proud of What you Do. So says my Sensei. So believe I.
I am proud of what I do. All of it. Writing romances that make me and others laugh, cry, empathize, and just plain feel good is more than most of us get to do with our lives. It's meaningful and certainly not something to be bagged and stuck in a land-fill, I don't care how cynical you are, or how literary, everyone loves a love story.
So I say to my writing siblings: Be Proud. You make life better in a time where there's more than enough pain and nastiness to go around.
Trash-My-Ass!
Happy Writing. Happy Reading.
Leigh Morgan
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