My Peeps aka Bird Watching

A gold finch and a purple finch at my feeder

Goldfinch keeping an eye out

Both finches checking either direction

The finches eating side by side with a slate colored junco on the ground

I love feeding the birds. I have three bird feeders around my house so I can watch them from my kitchen window, living room window and deck. It’s fascinating watching the birds with their aerial displays and feeding tactics. I’ve learned what birds flock together, what their songs sound like and how their appearance changes depending on the season.

When I first put out a new bird feeder it usually sits untouched for a day or so. Eventually a scout chickadee will appear and I know that shortly after that the feeder will be covered with goldfinches, house finches, purple finches, cardinals, sparrows, blue jays, juncos, tufted titmouse, nuthatches, grosbeaks and the occasional bluebird. If you click on any of the bird names I just mentioned, it will take you to Audubon’s website with interesting facts about them, what they look like, what their songs sound like and where they live.

The finches and sparrows will eat together with only the occasional squabble and the juncos tend to remain on the ground and eat the fallen seeds. The cardinal couples usually come separately but now and then both male and female share the perch. Nuthatches and tufted titmouse flit quickly in and out without lingering and when the blue jays come they always make a lot of noise about it. Red winged blackbirds visit sometimes but starlings, cowbirds and grackles travel with them too and I don’t like having a huge flock hogging all the food.

I learned a rather surprising life lesson one day while watching the birds. I was sitting out in a chair in my yard watching several gold finches eating happily when suddenly a red-tailed hawk swooped out of the hedgerow and snatched one of the little yellow birds. My mouth literally dropped open. I felt bad for the little birds and they were traumatized for quite a while after that but eventually they returned to eat. That was certainly a vivid display of the circle of life and I am no longer surprised when I see hawks circling in the sky above my yard. The hawks need to survive too and my bird feeders fulfill that need in a roundabout way.

Springtime is an amusing time to watch my feeders because the male goldfinches are ridiculously combative during mating season. They perform aerial duels circling up into the sky before flying off in a huff. Meanwhile the female finches with their less vivid plumage sit contentedly eating at the feeder as the males compete in vain for their attention. I don’t think even female birds are impressed by macho, show-off males. The cardinal couples are always sweet to each other with the male feeding the female and sometimes coming alone to fetch food for her while she tends the nest.

Chickadees are the bravest and often fly right up to the feeder shortly before I fill it. I’d love to have them eat out of my hands someday but we all don’t know each other well enough for that yet. When I sit out on my deck and watch all the birds they often land on the railing or the electrical wires and chirp at me curiously. They’re not shy when it comes to getting their food and I am always humbled and comforted by their trust in me.

Mistress of Mowing

Mistress of Mowing’s Front Lawn

I’d never driven a riding lawn mower until I mowed the acreage of my new home in the summer of 2011. It took me 3.5 hours that first time and when I finished I’d made such odd-looking circular patterns the lawn resembled a golf course. I was tempted to stick some flags into the center of the various circles but I resisted. Regardless, I was proud of myself and enjoyed the experience. Almost two years later, I still like mowing my lawn.

Yes, I said I like mowing my lawn. Even on day’s like today when the battery was giving me trouble and the shed doors closed just after I started the mower which left me coughing in exhaust fumes. I then had a stern talking to the doors (hooked them open) plugged my battery into the charger and set about my morning, all the while wreaking of tractor exhaust. I didn’t see any point in showering when I still had to mow once the battery was juiced up. All that is not what I enjoy about mowing though.

When I finally did start mowing, it felt wonderful being out in the sunshine under the bright blue sky. The air was warm, there was an occasional breeze and the grass was finally dry enough that it didn’t bog down my mower. It’s still early in the season so my grass was only really deep in a few areas but I did the whole yard to give it a uniform start. I listen to music while I mow and quite often dance along to it. My neighbors undoubtedly think I’m insane for all sorts of reasons so I don’t see any harm in doing what makes me happy during chores. I occasionally pause in the shade to change my music or answer a text but otherwise I continue mowing.

There was one lone white butterfly flitting around the front yard as I finished that last 1/3 of my property. I adore butterflies and always take them as a positive sign of hope and renewal. There were few other bugs out thankfully and I didn’t have any other major issues mowing today.

When I get off the mower my whole body is still vibrating from the ride but eventually that subsides and I feel human again. I came inside and happily washed the mower stink off and dressed in comfortable summer clothing. I enjoy mowing but it isn’t my entire life and I don’t obsess over every little spot or insist on weed whacking every time. Mowing my yard is something that has to be done and I take as much pleasure in it as I can. I am not a master of mowing because I’m always learning but I am a Mistress of Mowing because I am skilled at being the keeper of my land.

Making Time for My Writing Passion…

While I am passionate about everything I write, even the blogs and articles I can’t take credit for, my first love in writing will always be fantasy fiction. I started a new fantasy book a couple months ago and while I have tons of ideas for it, I haven’t had the time to work on it much. I’m going to make some time tonight to add a bit more to it. For anyone curious about it, this is what I wrote up as a sample book jacket blurb. To read some of the first chapter, click on the link at the end of the post to go to my Corbin Creations website. Happy reading!

“What happens when a woman whose heart was broken by the death of her beloved father finally does what every man she’s met since tells her to? “Stop crying.” No longer able to express her pain, Vihresa’s tears turn to rage. A rage that hardens her heart and threatens to turn the magic she possesses to darkness. What will come when the fire within finally burns to the surface…”

Unbroken Flames – excerpt

Strength, rocks and cinder blocks

The flames of my first bonfire, summer 2012

The cinder blocks were stacked behind an old burn barrel

Cinder block toss: a new Olympic sport!

Cinder block bonfire surround

I’m not afraid of hard work and I don’t mean just hard mental work, I mean hard physical work. I am the sole owner of 1.4 acres of land in Upstate NY and it falls squarely upon my shoulders to improve and maintain my property. I do what needs to be done when it needs to be done and I never back down from a new landscaping challenge.

As stated in my “Not Profound” post every single tree I own is messy and drops branches, pine cones or leaf sticks. The spring cleanup of my yard is an ongoing process as with every strong wind more mess falls from the trees. My first spring in my home was last year and I gathered a decent pile of branches and pine cones. There was no designated bonfire pit in the yard because the previous owners apparently burned everything but the kitchen sink in barrels. So I picked a spot toward the back of my property, dumped the branches there and proclaimed it my bonfire pit. A proper bonfire pit is surrounded with rocks to define it but surprisingly enough, I’ve yet to find any big rocks on my property.

Last year was my first bonfire and it went off quite well with my girls, two close friends, ample s’mores and a couple of Samuel Adams Summer Ales. I’ve already started this year’s pile and while it isn’t as large as last year, judging by the wind again today, it will be soon. I still really wanted a true border around it so I began investigating the hedgerow between my property and the neighbors. Monday morning I discovered that behind one of the old burn barrels was a decent sized stack of cinder blocks. I fought through the vines and prickers for a closer look and concluded that the blocks had never been used for anything. I’d found my bonfire border! I resolved to get the blocks out of there that afternoon following work and went about my day.

Monday afternoon arrived and it was a beautiful, relatively warm day. My daughters were more than happy to play outside on the swing set and in the yard so I went out in work clothes determined to get the job done. I knew I wouldn’t want to carry every single block across the yard one at a time so I moved my wheelbarrow over near them for transport. In order to reach the pile I had to walk over a rather large mound of old ashes and burnt whatever and it was somewhat squishy and less than stable.

Wearing my leather work gloves, I yanked and pulled at the nest of vines until I could get at the pile and then picked up my first cinder block. That was literally the first time I’ve ever moved a cinder block and they were lighter than I expected but still a substantial workout for my arms. I carried that block over the squishy mound and into the wheelbarrow and repeated the process twice more before becoming fed up with that idea. I then began throwing the blocks out toward the wheelbarrow in a sort of backyard Olympics sport and I was impressed with my own strength.

I could put four cinder blocks in the wheelbarrow and still be able to move it so I made as many trips as it took to get the blocks over to the fire pit where I began placing them around in a circle. By the time I finished that job I was pretty beat. I’d pinched my hands between two blocks more than once, banged them into my hips and legs and scraped up my forearms because I’d become too hot in my sweatshirt to keep it on. Even so, I was ridiculously proud of myself and would do it all over again if need be. I’d accomplished what I wanted to and my bonfire pit finally looked substantial and permanent.

Everything I do on my property and in my house fills me with a deep sense of pride and increases my belief in my own abilities. I’m gaining tons of experience and discovering that yes, I can do whatever I put my mind to because I’ve successfully done so numerous times in the past. My long distance friend, who knows a lot about hard work himself, gave me a virtual pat on the back and while I don’t do any of this for acknowledgement or praise, it felt really good! A little “good job, Julie!” sticks with me as I tackle my next challenge and every other challenge along the way.

Touching Spring

One of my lilac bushes overflowing with buds!

This past winter was rough. Never ending snow and cold and misery. I looked hopefully forward to spring and warmth and when it finally seemed to arrive I was ecstatic! Alas then the cold returned and just this past Saturday it snowed. I had a lot of writing work to do this weekend so staying inside was fine but I didn’t enjoy seeing flakes blowing past my windows the third week of April. I know there have been winter storms in May before where I live and I remember them less than fondly. I have no desire or energy for that.

When it has warmed up periodically this “spring” I’ve rejoiced in the golden sunshine and bright blue skies. All the trees are budded out eager to release leaves and my beloved lilacs will have a bumper crop this year! If only it would warm up and say warm!

Lilacs are my favorite flower. I grew up with an entire row of them growing behind my childhood home. Their sweet fragrance in the spring still evokes happy memories and I could lay beneath their lavender and white blossoms for hours contentedly. Last year almost all of my beautiful blooms wilted and expired because the weather warmed up way too early in March and then got so cold the night-time frost damaged the flowers beyond recovery. So this year I am hoping for redemption! I want to be able to hold bushels of lovely lilacs in my hands and bury my nose in them until I’m intoxicated by their natural perfume.

For now I must wait because Mama Nature is grumpy after the winter and is less than forthcoming with consistent warmth. I’ve joked with my friends that someone needs to get Mama Nature some chocolate or a fun spring fling to alleviate her hormonal mood swings. I am just as eager to bloom and soak up the sunshine as the flowers and trees around here. I want to do more than just touch a hint of spring here and there, I long to be completely caressed and encompassed in its renewal and beauty.

Queen of the King Size Bed – Part 2

Saying I am Queen of the king size bed is all well and good but I thought I’d show it as well. I’ve worked hard for everything I have and endured my share of ups and downs but I am stronger because of it. I workout daily by walking my dog, playing Dance Central or doing P90x2 and while I am not a hardbody by any means, I am pleased with my shape. There is something to be said for a woman with curves and that something is that she is beautiful. I am beautiful. My beauty comes from within and my physical form is just the vessel for it. I have self-image issues just like every other woman in the world but most days I’m pretty content with how I look and who I am.

As a ghost writer, I blog daily about interior design and it keeps me so busy I don’t have the time to focus on my own interior design. I made time for it recently and purchased a new floral quilt for my bed and leaf print sheets to replace the dark red comforter and sheets I’ve used all winter. Though Spring has disappeared for the moment, I felt it necessary to create light and cheer in my bedroom. I so often write in my freelance blogs that the bedroom is a sanctuary and I truly believe that. I always find peace when I sit or lay upon my bed and when I close my eyes I am quickly lost in the dreams of my vivid imagination.

On weekend mornings my large bed is covered with open magazines and books as I research the topics I write about and scribble furiously in my spiral notebook. Those notes are later typed into an Excel spreadsheet as I create what I call my “interior design cheat sheet.” I am loving every moment of learning about interior design, decorating and architecture. My mind is a sponge and I’m trying to soak up as much knowledge as possible so it translates properly when I write. Printed books are amazing tools and digital media will never replace them in my world. Folding down pages and highlighting sentences is such a rewardingly tangible experience!

Perhaps what I do on my oversize bed is not as exciting as some people might have imagined but that doesn’t concern me. I am a responsible woman and my life might sound boring to some but to me it is fulfilling, gratifying and a true gift.

The Doggy Gauntlet

Jazz and I snuggling on the couch for warmth!

I refer to walking my dog Jazzmin as “Jazzercise” and while there isn’t any up tempo dancing music playing while we walk, it’s definitely exercise! I live in a rather rural and hilly area of Upstate NY and our daily walks are wrought with the usual perils of squirrels, birds and of course, other dogs. There are no sidewalks where I live so we walk in the shoulder but thankfully the town has made the shoulders rather wide. That comes in very handy when a driver isn’t paying attention and Jazz and I have to veer way over into the ditch or shoulder to remain safe. We haven’t had to go ditch diving yet but the way some people around here drive their pickup trucks way too fast, it might yet happen.

As I stated in my earlier post, I equate walking Jazz around here to running a Doggy Gauntlet. My country neighborhood is filled with dogs and if they’re outside the house, they’re rarely on any sort of leash. Then there’s the added excitement of the people who actually walk their dogs…or rather are walked BY their dogs. When I walk Jazz in the snow and cold of winter I never encounter anyone else walking their dog but the moment it warms up they all crawl out of the woodwork!

Jazz likes to pull and until I’ve thoroughly established my calm assertiveness, I walk her on a Gentle Leader. Any other collar I’ve tried, even Cesar Millan’s Illusion collar, doesn’t deter her from pulling. I can’t rely on a collar to control my dog anyway, I’m the one holding the leash, I’m the one who has to be controlling my dog. Yesterday’s running of the Doggy Gauntlet had its ups and downs, and I don’t just mean the never-ending hills. I purposely walked her by houses I know have loose dogs and I even walked by the local kennel. Jazz did quite well walking by the homes with the loose dogs. I had to keep correcting her but we walked by without the dogs running at us and only emitting a couple barks from a fair distance.

I was feeling rather proud of us until we encountered an older woman walking some little puffball white dog. Or rather, being dragged along by her little dog. Jazz gets extremely excited when she sees other dogs on leashes and it doesn’t matter what size they are. We walked by the woman with the dog with more than a few corrections and something of a power struggle but I considered it positive progress. We were almost home when I saw the little Jack Russell Terrier from down the road dragging along its owner. Jazz got excited the moment she saw it and wanted to run over and the little thing started barking at us and Jazz and I failed miserably at getting past with any sort of calm and control. I made the mistake of stopping and trying to make her sit and that didn’t help in the least because she was totally ignoring me. I then had to drag her away as she fought against the Gentle Leader. Once the other dog had continued down the road barking and fighting against its owner and was out of sight, Jazz calmed down and we made it the last stretch home without further incident.I was somewhat discouraged by our failures but encouraged by our successes and my mind was already going over what I’d done wrong.

I walked Jazz tonight in gale force winds and that was extremely distracting for both of us. We encountered one loose dog, an older black lab named Molly and while Jazz got excited, we kept moving and Molly only gave us a couple passing barks as she hung out by her owner and house. In almost the exact same spot we encountered the Jack Russell last night, we came upon a woman walking her Irish Setter and the only difference between it and the Jack was the size. That big fluffy red dog was pulling at the leash and dragging its owner and barking and Jazz was pulling frantically against the Gentle Leader trying to get free from me. I didn’t make her sit this time though, I kept pulling her along and fighting to regain control of her despite the other dog’s continued barking. To Jazz’s credit, she hasn’t barked at any of the dogs we’ve encountered and I consider that a good thing! We made it home safe again and were both happy to get in out of the whipping winds.

I don’t know what the trick is to snap Jazz out of her fixation on other dogs. I’ve tried correcting with the collar, giving her the little side tap Cesar demonstrates and distracting her with treats but nothing is very effective. I do realize that I get tense when I see other dogs and I’m trying really hard to stop doing that but it’s a work in progress.

I do wish I could see her interact with other dogs in a friendlier manner so I knew it was possible but as I can’t possibly afford to pay Cesar Millan to come out here, we’ll continue to muddle through until we get a handle on things. From watching The Dog Whisperer and just from encountering other people walking their dogs with absolutely no control, I know I’m not alone in my struggles and that I’m not a failure.

My goal is to someday be the role model walking pair in the neighborhood. A beautiful woman and her adorable dog walking confidently down the road without any leash pulling, barking or power struggles. The pair that other dog owners around here point to and say to their dog “See?! That’s how you’re supposed to act!”

Leading the Pack

Jazz loaded up with precious Beanie baby cargo

My youngest relieving Jazz of some of her cargo

Working on Jazz being good on the leash with my girls

An exhausted Jazz after our evening walk

Jazz wearing her booties to protect her paws from the snow.

Owl getting friendly with Jazz and Jazz being good about it

Owl and Jazz snuggling on the couch

My dog Jazzmin “Sundance” Corbin is an adorable and loving mutt, just like me. I adopted her from a local shelter in January 2012 and my life has never been the same. I wasn’t a strong leader or an alpha dog when I adopted her. I was lonely and wanted a dog to be my companion when my daughters were with their father. Jazz happily took on the role of mama caretaker and pack leader because she sensed weakness in me and thought she needed to be in control. I only know all that now that I’ve started reading Cesar’s Way and watching The Dog Whisperer on Netflix. I can now see everything I’ve done wrong with Jazz and I’m working diligently to fix things.

I should have started reading Cesar’s books last summer when my close friend recommended them. He’s had dogs for most of his life and knows far more about them than I do. I grew up with dogs but I was never solely responsible for one until I got Jazz. My friend has met Jazz and while she dragged me along when he and I walked, the moment he took the leash from me, she was a totally different dog. Calm, obedient, attentive and eager to do whatever he asked.

In truth she was still the same dog but the energy my friend emitted was far more in control and “calm assertive” than my usual tense, worried and uncertain energy. That day he showed me that Jazzmin could be the dog I wanted her to be. Did I run right out and get Cesar’s books that moment because he suggested them? No. Why? A mixture of stupidity and stubbornness I suppose. But that was then and this is now and as Jazzmin lives in the now, all she cares is that her mama is finally fulfilling her as a dog.

While watching The Dog Whisperer I see a lot of dogs with behavior issues similar to Jazz. What that really means is that their owners are emitting the wrong energy and those dogs have become the pack leaders. I’m working really hard on improving my energy. I can be an overly perky and optimistic person sometimes but I have trouble believing in my own strength. I need to focus my positive outlook on myself and stop doubting my abilities. Becoming Jazz’s pack leader is extremely beneficial for both of us. Having more confidence in myself and taking on the role of pack leader allows Jazz to relinquish the role she never really wanted. It also improves who I am as a person and how I function in every aspect of my life.

I’ve been working on asserting myself as the pack leader for almost two weeks now. I get up early on the mornings I have my girls and walk her around the yard and driveway for 20-30 minutes. When I don’t have the girls I take her for longer walks after work. Jazz and I have greatly improved on the walk. She’s not pulling all the time and she’s less distracted by every bird, leaf, stray breeze and particle of dust we walk by. We’re still working on how she reacts to other dogs but we’ve made great progress! Last night I walked the “Doggy Gauntlet” with her. The Doggy Gauntlet is how I describe purposely walking by houses where I know the dogs are allowed to run free and it also includes walking by a local kennel. I walked Jazz with a Gentle Leader and an Outward Hound backpack weighed down with a couple of water bottles. (The Beanie Baby cargo in the pictures was just to get her used to the backpack and to make my youngest daughter smile.)

How did our walk through the Doggy Gauntlet go? Well, we lived to tell the tale but that tale will have to wait until the next post. Stay tuned!

Believing in Boston

My heart belongs to Massachusetts. That beautiful New England state has owned my heart from the moment I first drove across the state border in November of 2011. I felt like I was finally coming home, like I was somewhere I’d never known I belonged. This blog is not that story though. This is a different story and one motivated by the tragedy that occurred in Boston on April 15, 2013.

What happened in Boston on 4/15/13 was awful, senseless and wrong. But that’s not how I want to visualize Boston. I am certain there are already countless blogs from native Bostonians about the marathon day’s events and I realize my voice might be rightfully lost among them. I ask only that you listen to my rambling for a while…

When I step out onto the streets of Boston from the T I feel immediately at ease and welcome. I have both stepped back in time and accelerated forward into an amazing future. There is an energy and vibe to Beantown that is unique, powerful and strong. You might think that powerful and strong are two words meaning the same thing but not so. Boston had the power to change my entire perspective on what a city is. Boston has the strength to survive whatever challenges it faces.

On my last visit to Boston in November of 2012, I was in the company of my best friend and our mutual friend. I didn’t make it to the Back Bay area on my first trip so I wanted to go there my second trip, so we went. Back Bay showed me yet another side to Boston, a side I’d heard about but didn’t understand until I experienced it. I marveled at all the brick buildings and endless rows of homes. Back Bay has its own energy as well as that Boston vibe. I am always lost when I’m in Boston so I can’t tell you if I was anywhere near where the marathon ends. But I do remember and can still feel the power of that area, the history, the sense of community. It is its own world.

We remained in Back Bay as the sun set and evening darkened the city. We walked the streets back toward downtown and I was constantly looking around me, trying to take it all in and memorize it. As wordy as I am, I don’t think I can properly describe what Boston and Massachusetts mean to me. I don’t presume that they are as meaningful to anyone else, I can only know my perception. I invite you to experience it for yourself and draw your own conclusions.

It is unfortunate that the city I love so much suffered so needlessly 4/15/13 and it saddens me that it’s in the news because of a horrible attack. That is not Boston. That is not how anyone should visualize Boston. Boston is strong, unified, tough, tenacious,powerful, beautiful, timeless and eternal. The scenes and stories people need to remember most are of the people fighting to get to the injured and working together quickly to offer aid. Our history owes a lot to the people, power and spirit that will forever remain in that city. The negativity of the attack does not define Boston but the positive energy that comes out of it after this will rebuild its very foundation stronger than any bricks. My heart is in Massachusetts and I believe in the power of Boston. We all need to believe in Boston.

Frozen Moments, Flooding Memories

It appears that it’s going to be one of those Springs where Mother Nature has intensely fluctuating mood swings. Warm one day, cold the next. Rain, snow, sun, wind and the other day, a mini ice storm. It’s hard to know how to dress and what coat to grab when even the weather apps I use can’t seem to keep up from moment to moment. The forecasters keep optimistically forecasting warm sun and when it doesn’t come I wonder if they fear for their lives.

This random and erratic spring weather coalesced into something rather inspiring to me during the thankfully short-lived ice storm. As I was driving home I passed by several streams that were overflowing from all the rain. These same streams were surrounded by bare-branched trees that were coated with frozen droplets or rain. All the buds on the trees looked frozen in time while the water continued to flow rapidly past them and it created a stunning contrast in my mind.

I have experienced moments that feel frozen in time. Some of these moments are amazingly wonderful and others are heartbreakingly painful. When those moments were

Excuses are Easy

Excuses are easy. I know this because I use them myself. Excuses are easy but work is hard. It’s so much less strenuous to give ourselves a reason not to do something than to muster our strength and just do what needs to be done! Sometimes when we give someone an excuse we’re trying to get out of doing something for them even though it’s within our power to do it. Sometimes we give excuses because we’re hoping the other person won’t sympathize with us but will in fact motivate us to do the task at hand. Either way, the ultimate choice of what we do is within our hands.

Yesterday morning it was rainy and cold so I didn’t walk my dog Jazzmin as I’d been doing the previous two mornings. I felt guilty about it but I thought I had a viable excuse for not exercising her. It was pouring when I got home from work so my excuse not to walk her remained. I was tired after work and it would’ve been extremely easy to just spend the night sitting and writing. That’s not what I did. After a snack I did the P90x2 arms and shoulders workout. When I was finished with that the rain had stopped so I got Jazz all collared and leashed and we went for a brisk, hilly walk. Was I tired after all that? A little. But I was so proud of myself for doing what I needed to do that my energy returned stronger than before. I know from extensive past experience that doing physical exercise increases my energy so if I just stop feeling sorry for myself, get off my butt and exercise, I’ll discover that untapped energy that’s always inside me.

I’ve been learning a lot more about energy lately. From a close friend with extensive dog knowledge and from the dog whisperer, Cesar Millan, I’m discovering how positive and powerful energy is important for properly training Jazz. She doesn’t know what I’m saying when I tell her “I’m too tired to walk you” she just recognizes my energy as weak. I can’t allow myself to emit that kind of energy. I am the pack leader and she needs to see that at all times. She doesn’t care that I’m tired after work and that it’s pouring rain, she has energy she wants to release, she wants to walk!

I have a very active and creative imagination and I can always think of tons of excuses not to do something. Excuses are a waste of my energy and a waste of my time. I’m tired, I’m afraid, I’m sore, no one understands me, everyone judges me, I have it harder than everybody else…those aren’t just excuses, some of them are outright lies. I do get sad and feel sorry for myself but ALWAYS without fail I come out of it and then reprimand myself for wasting precious time on the negative when the positive is so much stronger!

It’s entirely possible that my friends get tired of me trying so hard to see the positive side of every situation (and sometimes I fail at doing so) but I remain persistent. I’ve survived many challenges, so have we all, but if I’d given in to weakness I wouldn’t be where I am today and there’s no acceptable excuse for that.

Queen of the King Size Bed

When I first moved out of my ex’s house and into an apartment I bought myself a king-sized memory foam mattress and frame. I’d never owned a bed that big so it was a treat for me; a little splurge to symbolize my new sense of power and strength. I initially believed that I’d someday have a man to share that bed with me so I slept on one side. Within a few months I was sleeping in the middle and loving every minute of it. Moving it into my house that summer was quite a wrestling match but I managed and it happily takes up most of my bedroom.

It bothers me that my mattress is called “king size” when I am the ruler of my space and it has become my Queendom. I suppose I could say I’m a female king but no, I am a Queen. I am a Queen of my own destiny, my own choices, my own happiness. I don’t require a man to help me rule over my realm and while not all women believe it, it’s possible to breathe and live without a man around 24/7. Am I a cold, unfeeling Queen who has given up on love? An Ice Queen? Far from it! I am a Fire Queen who believes strongly in the passion and power of love. I love fierce, deep, hot and with tenacity.

I do share my bed quite often…with my daughters. They love to play on my bed and we watch TV in my room together. My girls play games involving falling down (very safely) in dramatic poses and tickle each other and cause a ruckus. During such times I usually lay or sit on the edge of the bed, safe from sharp knees and elbows. Those moments are when I realize why I truly bought such a big bed. To share it with the ones I love.

Last night a rather large swath of thunderstorms crossed through the state. My oldest had fallen asleep an hour previous but my youngest was still awake because she’d needed a snack and is something of a night owl. When the lightning started flashing and the thunder rumbled I could see she was scared so I asked her if she wanted to sleep in my bed. Of course she did! In my bed she climbed and we snuggled together while she watched me play a few games on my Android phone. She kept asking me to check the radar map on my weather app so we’d pull up the image and see the big splotch of red and orange slowly moving eastward. Some of the rumbles were so strong they shook things hanging on my walls but I assured my daughter that we were safe and eventually she was sound asleep next to me. My sleep was very content last night.

That bed is my sanctuary, it’s where I go at the end of the day to relax and escape into dreams. Could I get by with a smaller bed? Sure and then I’d probably be able to walk around it on all sides. But a smaller bed isn’t me because a smaller life isn’t me. I live big and I love with all my heart. There is no other way to be for me.

Not profound

I wanted my first blog entry in the WordPress format to be profound, insightful, deep and meaningful. I don’t know that this will be. All that matters is that I’m writing and taking credit for my own words.My favorite ghostwriting topics are landscaping, interior design and parenting, not necessarily in that order. Here’s what I know about those subjects.

Landscaping
Landscaping is a dirty job and hard work. It takes serious physical energy and effort to maintain my property and every single tree I have is messy in one way or another. I spent my weekend picking up branches and raking leaf sticks, pine cones and branches. That only took care of three trees on a property with over 20. I’m tired and sore and I have a long way to go. If I had the money would I pay someone to do it all for me? No. As exhausting as it can be, I have a great feeling of accomplishment at the end of the day. I look out over the areas I’ve cleaned up and I’m proud of myself. I would get no such satisfaction watching someone else do the work for me.

Interior Design
Interior design is something I wish my 18 year old self had been smart enough to go to school to study. But I wasn’t that smart then and so I’m catching up now. As far as my interior design experience goes, everything in my house is there because I like it. I choose furnishings that are affordable, attractive and functional. Almost everything hanging on the walls are paintings by me. I choose furniture in colors I love so there’s a lot of blue in my home. My style isn’t shabby chic, rustic, contemporary, modern, etc. My style is Julie.

Parenting
My 18 year old self didn’t go to school to study interior design because I didn’t know then what I wanted to be aside from a wife and mother. I was a wife for 4 years before I became a mother. I was then a mother for 9 years before I stopped being a wife. I will always be a mother, it’s my favorite job in the whole world and I’m good at it, just like my 18 year old self knew I would be. I was a good wife too but I married too young before I knew who I truly was. Now that I know who I am, it’s unlikely I will ever be a wife again. That truth doesn’t make me uncomfortable or sad; it’s an acceptance of who I am.

Speaking of being a mother, it’s time to wake my darling daughters and bring this post to a close. Was this profound? I don’t know. I do know that it was me speaking my mind and being the rambling Julie that quite a few know and love.