An Open Letter to the Woman in the Vet’s Office

Dear Stranger,

I saw you in the vet’s office the other day.  I was pretty distracted trying to keep my 35-pound ‘lap dog’ in check, but I knew immediately there was something different about you.  I should have recognized what it was even before the receptionist told you how sorry she was.  You didn’t have an animal with you.  Not anymore.

I wasn’t trying to be nosey, but in a small office like that you can’t help but overhear everything.  I heard you say that you had no regrets, other than the fact that nobody came with you.  I heard you say you would wait in your car for them to bring the body out.  Once I’d paid, I saw you sitting there in your car, alone, with the hatchback open and a blanket spread out in the back.

I just want to tell you how very sorry I am.  I’m sorry for the loss of your sweet pet, whose species or gender I don’t even know but I am certain meant the world to you.  I am so sorry that nobody came with you for this terrible moment.  I’m sorry that I didn’t just run right up to you and hug you, but I didn’t want to bother you in your moment of grief.  I feel now like I should have bothered you anyway.

I also want you to know that I’m hopeful for you.  I know how much it hurts, because losing a pet is truly losing a part of your family.  But I know that eventually that hole in your heart will heal just enough that you can open your arms to a new fur baby, one that needs you just as much as you need it.

Hugs,

Ashley

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For the Love of a List

Really.  I love lists a lot.  I have a continuously running grocery list, a list of book I have read, a list of story ideas, a list of blog ideas, and the cliché To Do list.  (Oh, look!  I just made a list of lists!)  Before I’d started my freelance business and my husband and I worked completely different shifts, I would have a list of all the things I wanted to tell him or talk to him about when I got to see him.  He would joke with me when I got home about checking my list before we started any kind of conversation.

Why do I love lists?  I love crossing things off of them.  Sometimes I even put things on my To Do list that I know I’m going to get accomplished soon just so I can cross them off (but don’t you tell anyone or I’ll deny it).  There is something so satisfying about that swipe of a pen or a pencil to let me know I’ve accomplished something.  It doesn’t stop with paper lists, though.  Even the lists on my phone make a beautiful little ding! when I check them off.  (Check out Wunderlist; it’s awesome.)

I started keeping so many lists because I can be forgetful.  My husband may ask me to make a veterinary appointment for our dog, and if I don’t write it down it will take me weeks to get around to it, if I ever do.  It’s not that I don’t want to do it or that I forget entirely, it’s that I don’t remember while the vet’s office is open.  Remembering at 11:30 pm is not especially helpful.

My lists help me plan my day.  Being self-employed, it’s tempting on some days to curl up and read a book instead of doing pretty much anything else.  (Okay, okay, that’s tempting every day, no matter what.)  But I can look over my lists, pick a few certain things that I know need to be done, and make a smaller list for the next day.  It sounds like a lot of work, but I promise it’s what keeps me sane.

I’m not the only list lover out there, either.  We know David Letterman loved his Top Ten lists.  You can find numerous fiction books called The List (which means I won’t be putting it on my list of potential book titles.)  There are even books you can buy solely to create more lists, such as List Your Self and Listography.  I also found a book called To-Do List Makeover.  (I’ll be adding these to my wishlist.)  Here’s a fun list of historical figures that are famous for things they didn’t do, and you can also spend some time on this list of controversial death masks.  Oh, and they tell me there are also several Best Dressed lists, but considering I’m sitting here in yoga pants and a sweatshirt that’s probably not the most important list on my list.

What’s your favorite kind of list?

To Do List

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Book Review: The Wanderer’s Guide to Dragon-Keeping by Ashley O’Melia

An awesome review for my latest book!

Emily Wrayburn's avatarA Keyboard and an Open Mind

Title:The Wanderer’s Guide to Dragon Keeping
Author: Ashely O’Melia
Genre: Urban fantasy
Date Read:
03/09/2014
Rating: ★★★★

Review:

dragonkeepingcoverAll right, I admit it, I am a sucker for baby dragons. Well, dragons of all sizes are awesome, but there’s something about the way baby dragons tend to fall somewhere between a puppy and a kitten in terms of behaviour and are definitely just as cute that makes me want to flail my arms and go “Aww!”

This book is a quick. delightful little fantasy story, centering on Aubrey Goodknight, who discovers a mysterious book, “The Wanderer’s Guide to Dragon-Keeping”, just when she is feeling most alone. Next thing she knows, she is hatching a dragon in her oven, and raising him while trying to keep his presence a secret.

Hugo, as she names him, is completely adorable, and I was continually  “Aww!”-ing as I read. Aubrey was a well-rounded…

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Why I Still Shop at Hobby Lobby

Don’t get yourself all up in arms over birth control rights just due to the title of this post.  I’m not here to talk about whether employers should have control over their employees’ reproductive rights (they shouldn’t) or if people should have the right to choose what they do with their own bodies (they should).  I’m not here to spark a debate about what your religious beliefs are (your business, not mine) or what my religious beliefs are (my business, not yours).  I’m here to talk about how to get craft supplies when you are in desperate need of crafting therapy.

Okay, that’s a bit of a joke, but still kind of true.  (Truth makes it funny, though.  Right?  Right?  *crickets chirping*)

Here’s the deal:  When I’m not writing, or cleaning, or taking care of the kids, or studying, or catching a little bit of shuteye, I like to craft.  Sometimes that involves scrapbooking, or cross-stitching, or sewing.  Most recently, my favorite thing to play with is polymer clay.

Carrot Cake from Athena's Dream.  www.facebook.com/athenasdreamjewelry

Carrot Cake from Athena’s Dream. http://www.facebook.com/athenasdreamjewelry

As I stepped through Hobby Lobby’s doors last night, I remembered the snort of derision someone gave me in a recent conversation when I had mentioned I had been in that much-debated store.  I know that the flames have died down a bit, but it is obviously still a relevant issue for people.  But here’s why I still shop there:  They are a local store.  That’s it.  There’s the magic for me, right there.  I could get clay on Amazon or Etsy, but if I shop at Hobby Lobby I know I’m supporting other local people.  Despite what their corporate office has had to say about healthcare, Hobby Lobby still provides me with the instant gratification of a hunk of clay in my hands and the knowledge that I’ve supported a local store.  Sure, there are Hobby Lobby stores across America, so you can’t technically call it a local business, but there are local people that work there.  That’s the part I care about.

I think we let the media get us so riled up about one little corner of the picture that we forget to see the rest of it.

So yes, I will continue to shop at Hobby Lobby.  And I will enjoy it.  And I will make cute crafty things when I get home.

Happy Pumpkin Pie Earrings from Athena's Dream.  www.facebook.com/athenasdreamjewelry

Happy Pumpkin Pie Earrings from Athena’s Dream. http://www.facebook.com/athenasdreamjewelry

You can find more of my craftiness at my Facebook page for Athena’s Dream Jewelry and Crafts.

 

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Dear Blog

Dear Blog,

Let me start off by saying how very truly sorry I am.  I’ve neglected you.  It’s been three weeks since you’ve seen a post.  As I type that, I think, “Surely that can’t be right!”  But it is; the date stamps don’t lie.

I’ve been so consumed with these classes that I’ve been taking, the massive amounts of homework the kids drag off the school bus every day, and harvesting a few fall crops out of the garden.  Don’t forget that recent book release, my Girl Scout Daisy troop, and the fact that I’m trying to purge my house via eBay.  It’s no excuse, I know.  Just because my education, my children, and my garden are thriving on the vine of life doesn’t mean you can’t.  There’s always room.  I just need to be better at finding it.

I will say that I’ve carved some time out in the mornings that is purely for writing.  The kids aren’t here, the house is quiet, and thanks to Sam’s Club I have a few pounds of coffee close at hand.  Most of the books I’ve read about writing (cause you can never learn enough!) say that you have to train your creativity through a writing routine.  I was doing really well with that for awhile, and it does work…As long as you stick with it.  So I raise my coffee mug in salute to forming good writing habits instead of playing Farm Heroes Saga and watching old reruns of The Golden Girls when I have the house to myself.

So anyway, Blog, I just want you to know that I’m going to make a better effort.  I know you are what inspires me to stay fresh with my writing.  You are what allows me to take that really tiny writing idea and still get to use it, even if it doesn’t fit anywhere in a book.  You are truly awesome.  I look forward to being addicted to you once again.

Love and Hugs,

Ashley

Blog concept

 

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The Big Red Button of Life

I did it.  I pushed it.  Twice.

How could I help myself?  It’s round, and red, and says, ‘Do Not Push on Pain of Parenthood’.  But once you push it, you can’t go back on it.  You’ve created something that you can’t stop and you can’t control.  That’s a pretty powerful force.

They will grow up, fall in love, get their hearts broken, fall in love again, go to college, get jobs, get married, and probably push that big red button themselves.

There will be so many other things about their lives that I can’t control, such as who they like, who they hang out with, and what they hear and see when they aren’t with me.  Sometimes even when they are with me.

It’s best that I accept this indomitable force right now instead of wondering, later on down the road, just how it all happened.

So good luck, kids.  You’re going to need it, especially if you ever push that big red button.

Big red button

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Seriously, I’m Always This Pale

“Are you sick?  Cause you look pale.”

Oh, how many times I’ve heard this.  It was much more prevalent in school, when kids have no problems pointing out what they perceive to be someone’s flaws.  But even as an adult, in “professional” work environments, I’ve had full-grown adults comment about the color of my skin and tell me I need to get in the tanning bed.  I understand that tanning has certainly had its hey-day of popularity, and a long one at that, but I’ve never been one to follow the trend.

Here we are at the end of summer, when everyone takes their beach-burnished bodies back to work and brags about their vacations.  I, meanwhile, am looking forward to winter when I’m on slightly more even ground skin tone-wise.

Yes, I’m pale.  I’m aware of it.

No, I’m not sick.

Yes, you can see my veins, but people in the medical field certainly appreciate it.

No, that’s not a white shirt under my cable knit sweater.  That’s my skin.

Yes, natural lighting is about as intense as it needs to get.

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Yes, my skin looks the same in color as it does in black and white.

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And even though there are a lot of really snappy things I could say to people who criticize my color, I usually just smile and say thank you. 🙂

 

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The Tragedy of the Working Mother

You’ve been there, haven’t you?  You’re rushing home from working late, hoping to squeeze in a little quality time with the kids somewhere between a thrown-together dinner and a high-speed bath before bedtime.  Your best friend calls.  “Oh, by the way, [insert name of stay-at-home mom here] says that her little girl is already counting to 50!  And she’s potty trained!  It’s a good thing she gets to spend so much time with her.”

It’s like someone just handed you a guilt trip right through the phone.

As a mom, I’ve really tried to deal with my guilt.  I always felt like it would really be best for the kids if I stayed home, but I couldn’t afford it.  I’ve slogged through life with my kids in one hand and my guilt in the other, and needed several more hands for cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and maybe stealing a little time to read.  Or, heaven forbid, sleep.

For awhile I lived as a single mother.  I worked late many nights, and by the time I got the kids picked up and back home there just wasn’t enough time for everything.  I didn’t teach my babies sign language.  They never went to pre-K because the schedule didn’t jive with my work hours.  Violet absolutely refused to get a head start on numbers or letters before school started.

My youngest just started kindergarten, which is what got me thinking about all this, about all those other mothers who stayed home with their kids and gave them such an advantage over my poor children.  Claire is the youngest of three, which means she has always just been part of the chaos of a big family instead of a brilliant youngster with a dedicated mother.  Would she be behind?  Would she suffer?

Then I got her test results from the beginning of the year.

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You see those blue dots?  Those blue dots are my child.  MY child, who’s pre-school education mostly included a lot of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse while I was getting ready in the morning.

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You see that dot?  The one so far up there that it’s almost off the chart?  That dot means that I’m not a bad mom.  That dot means that somewhere along the lines I did something right.  That dot means that the weekend trips to the library and the discussions in the car about everything we saw around us actually meant something.  That dot means that I don’t have to feel so guilty.  And neither, fellow working mother, do you.

 

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The Life and Times of Bunny Blanky

Without bothering to do any research on it, I would say the majority of us grow up with some kind of security item.  I had a blanket that my great aunt made me, and I used it until there were big, gaping holes in the poor thing.  Linus from Peanuts said he would turn his blanket into a sport coat when he got older so he never had to give it up.  “Comfort objects” are mentioned in The Giver.  My oldest daughter absolutely adored her pacifier, which was incredibly difficult to get her to give up.  My youngest daughter, however, has Bunny Blanky.

While I was pregnant with my first daughter I cross-stitched a baby blanket, with a cute picture of a bunny in pj’s sitting on the moon.  She liked it, but the only thing she was really, truly attached to was that dang pacifier (thank you, hospital staff, for not asking me if it was okay to give this addictive drug to my child).  I made another cross-stitched baby blanket when I was pregnant with Claire, but this time with a scene from Peter Rabbit.

Ignore how awful I look.  I'd just had a C-section.

Ignore how awful I look. I’d just had a C-section.  Claire came a couple weeks early so I was still working on Bunny while in the hospital.

Claire was not a very happy baby, but from the very beginning there was something special to her about this blanket.  She spit out pacifiers like they were poison, but as she got into her toddler years her bond with Bunny Blanky only grew stronger.

I had to have some rules about this, though.  It sounds mean, right?  To tell your child she can’t take her most precious item to the pool?  Or to the grocery store?  Well, do you have any idea how long it took me to make all those stitches?  Bunny Blanky is pretty much irreplaceable.  Besides, it would make an odd looking business suit at her first job interview.

Bunny Blanky isn't as young as he used to be.

Bunny Blanky isn’t as young as he used to be.

Claire is 5 now, and just started kindergarten.  She is used to the rule about not taking Bunny anywhere with her, but as soon as she gets off the bus she wraps her arms around him and tells him how much she missed him.  She even made him a Valentine’s card this year.  Bunny has been washed many times (often when Claire isn’t at home, because according to her he takes f o r e v e r to get clean).  When a thread works loose, Claire is devastated until I fix it.  She knows she has to get rid of her clothes when they don’t fit her anymore, and has asked me countless times if she’ll have to get rid of Bunny since her little feet stick out from under the bottom edge now.  (I always tell her no.)

Am I concerned?  Well, no.  I still have the cow pillow my mom made me when I was little, and the teddy bear Santa gave me in 1st grade, but the cow lives on a shelf in my closet and Fudge Bear has made his way to the room my daughters share.  Claire will only give up Bunny when she’s good and ready, and it’s nice to know that she feels the love I put in all those stitches.

 

 

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National Dog Day – Porkchop and Leo

It’s National Dog Day, and since even I have to take an occasional break from Dragon Month, I’ve teamed up with the good folks at Dropcam to talk about what kind of PUPtectors I have.

PUPtectors

First up is Porkchop.  You’ve seen him here before.

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Porky is my fuzzy shadow.  When I’m working, he’s under my desk chair.  When I’m cooking, he squeezes himself between my feet and the stove.  You can always count on Porkchop to be in the middle of the action.

When you have dogs and daughters, a puggle with fairy wings is inevitable.

When you have dogs and daughters, a puggle with fairy wings is inevitable.

Porkchop’s PUPtector personality is the Barking Buzzer.  He will bark any time he has the opportunity.  There’s the obvious stuff, of course, like barking at the mailman or when someone knocks on the door.  But there’s also a bark for every car that goes down our road, a doorbell on TV, the evil yellow school bus that picks up the kids in the morning, or random noises from the mischievous cats.  Yesterday morning the garbage truck came by, and he actually barked with his mouth full.  Too cute.

My other sweet pooch is Leo.

Leo loves his girl!

Leo loves his girl!

He might not look like it from this picture, but Leo is definitely The Bouncer.  He barks at the normal things, like the mailman, and howls mournfully when he hears a siren, but otherwise he’s the strong and silent type.  Leo lets me know what he thinks of people, and I’ve always trusted his opinion.  If Leo doesn’t like you, I don’t like you.  At one point, I was staying in an iffy section of town, and Leo scared off a would-be intruder with his massive bark.  He might be getting up there in his years, and only have three legs, but I always feel safe if Leo is around.

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Happy National Dog Day!  Remember there are many dogs waiting in shelters for your love and attention, so don’t contribute to puppy mills.  Those of you here in Southern Illinois, be sure to visit P.A.W.S. for your next furbaby, and to check out Leo’s modeling debut.

This post inspired by:

Dropcam-logo-horz

 

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