Z is for Zing

Today is the last day of the A to Z Challenge. This year's challenge was really laced with ZING! Zing means a lively, zestful quality; zest, vigor, animation, force, vitality, etc.  Every blogsite I visited had zing.

When I read the definition, I wondered about other things in my life that have ZING so I made a list and thought I'd share with you.

My marriage, my daughter and--believe it or not, after delving into my so-called memoirs, my family.

Sometimes, my cooking--even when it falls flat!

My driving--especially when I'm thinking about writing--just ask my husband.

My pastor, my SS teacher ... wait, my entire church!

My dreams have zing. Just ask my husband!

When we went home this past weekend, I noticed my cactus flower was blooming. Definitely some Zing!

I conclude ... I'm surrounded by ZING!

Now that A to Z Challenge is over, I hope to concentrate on putting more ZING into my writing. More description, visual setting, stronger conflict and characterization ... and ACTIVE verbs.

What have you learned from A to Z -- as a participant or as a reader? Share. How can we put more ZING in our writing and in our lives?

Q is for Quotes (and family tales)

As you know, I love quotes and post them on my blog often. What you don’t know—and might think a little odd—is that I collect quotes and funny stories from the lips of my family. I wish I had my little notebook of family quotes but since my dad’s death and my mom going into a nursing home, I’ve been a little lax with organized recording. Now I jot things down on slips of paper that float around my purse and eventually get lost.

But I have some favorite tales I want to share:

Once my entire family went to the cemetery to put Christmas flowers on my grandparent’s graves. My mother was always very dedicated about doing that and she’d shop for hours to find just the right ornament. On this occasion, she’d selected white crosses. Because the earth was so hard, she’d brought a hammer to pound each cross into the ground. Now, you’d have to know my mom: she’s a perfectionist—a fine-tuner. Once she gets something ‘finished’ she inspects everything around it—regardless of what it is—then fine-tunes her own project one last time. This time when she finished arranging flowers and cleaning up other gravesites, she came back to the white cross, hit it with the hammer and broke it.

“You just had to hit it one more time, didn’t you?” said my dad.

All of us broke into uncontrollable laughter because he’d nailed it with his comment. She was and always had been the hit it one more time mama. She used to go over my homework papers—crossing my Ts and closing the circles of my Os, Bs, Ps and making my periods a little darker. Hitting my paper one more time.

Yes, it drove me crazy.

The quote, “Just had to hit it one more time,” is a favorite and we use it often when one of us tries to over-do.

Of course, my mom has several quotes she uses consistently: She’s fond of saying, Ignorance gone to seed, Nuts gone to seed, There’s nothing crazier than people, and Can’t get away from those genes.

She loved telling everyone that if my brother said, “Let’s hang Mama,” my dad would go get a rope.

My young nephews were always fun to listen to. Once, a young Russell (the one in the red cap)climbed into the car after a grocery shopping trip. He was so glad to be going home after spending an hour in the food store that he was jumping up and down, and running across the back seat while the young sacker helped my mother with groceries. The sacker asked Russell, “Do you need to go to the bathroom?” to which my nephew responded, “No, why, do you smell something?”

A hilarious exchange and I think of it often, especially when someone asks if we need a bathroom. I suspect the young sacker called himself reprimanding Russell, but I love Russell’s quick, naïve reply.

One summer day, while the cable TV man was adjusting my dad’s television, my nephew Kyle (white cap) charged through the front door yelling, “We found a dead skunk back in the woods. You want to go smell him?” Needless to say, the cable guy declined.

My daughter (purple sweatshirt) was sitting in the back seat while I drove one day. Daughter was always a chatty little girl—asking questions and often supplying her own answers. On this day, I was telling her how her dad and I had prayed for a healthy little girl and that God had blessed us with her.

She replied, “Good. I always wondered who my family would be.” Yikes!

 

I’m sure you have favorite quotes and quirky sayings and stories from your family too. Want to share some of them?

J is for James

I feel very behind in my A to Z postings. I know I’m not, and that the feeling comes because I’m writing my posts the morning of instead of the night before. Pressure! Early on, I wrote each one the evening before but I’m reaching a point where I have to think, think, think. And then I sprint forward with great energy. That’s how I do a lot of things. That’s why I’m not a very fast fiction writer—I have to think too much and too long.

The letter J could be for any number of my family members: my grandfather John Henry, my dad Jesse, my mom Jerry, me or my cousin Jerry Lynn, or my uncle—James.

I’ve chosen James, my dad’s brother and Jerry Lynn’s dad. James was the youngest of my grandparent’s thirteen kids. You know what that means. Spare the rod, spoil the child?

James was married to my mother’s sister, Charlene. That means Jerry Lynn and his younger brother Neil were my double-first cousins. Jerry Lynn was named after my mom. Eventually, James and my Aunt Charlene divorced. I can remember going to their little house to play (just up the road from ours) and my aunt would be in bed. Dishes were piled in the sink and on the kitchen table. I was always fascinated by the sight of it because our house was spotless. My mom—even though she worked nights and slept days—was meticulous in every way. Remember—the perfectionist. Later on, after James and Charlene divorced, I realized she’d been depressed because she really came ‘alive’ once he was out of her life.

James was a huge part of my life.(See the pic at right.) He was probably the son that looked most like my grandfather—tall and lanky. He drank goat’s milk. Odd that I should remember that. And he was a smooth talker too. That’s what I remember most.

I’ve always enjoyed collecting things—anything paper. Post cards, letters, articles from the newspaper. You name it. I’m borderline hoarder.

Even as a kid, I cut out models from catalogs and used them as paper dolls. And I loved movie stars—especially Marilyn Monroe. I thought MM was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. So when I saw a post card of her on the beach in a two piece swimsuit, I had to have it. I think I’ve mentioned before that I used to write movie stars and ask for their pictures. I had a pretty good collection of them. While this post card wasn’t autographed, it made a nice addition to my movie star stash.

I showed it to my Uncle James. I vaguely remember having a “don’t want to” feeling down inside when James talked me into giving him the post card. I can’t remember what he said, how he talked me into turning it over to him. Told you he was a smooth talker. Imagine my surprise when, a few weeks later, I found my post card torn to pieces beneath a tree near my grandmother’s house. Can you imagine how I felt? Why did he do it? Since this happened before his divorce, I’ve wondered if my Aunt Charlene shredded Marilyn in a fit of anger or jealousy. One of the mysteries of my early teen years. And it seems cruel that when I think of my Uncle James, this is what I remember.

My uncle had a drinking problem and checked himself into Rusk State Hospital to avoid going to jail for a DWI. I was in my 20s then. I remember my parents asking if I'd take him a carton of cigarettes. Many years later, he died in a fire at age 56. He’d been drinking and fell asleep while smoking.

I’m sure we all have memories of this sort. We look back and see how loved ones wasted their lives and talents. Stories like this make us sad, but they can make us stronger. We just need to figure out how. Sadly, this entire family is gone: James, Charlene, Jerry Lynn and Neil. My two cousins left children behind who face their own demons and challenges.
But then, don’t we all?

Do you have any memories that fill you with sorrow? How do they make you stronger? Want to share?

F is for Family

F is for Family, of course.

I thought I’d leave you with some quotes that have to do with family.  They were taken from the Brainy Quote site. If you aren’t familiar with Brainy Quote, check it out here.  

Family is not an important thing. It's everything. ~Michael J. Fox

Family is the most important thing in the world.  ~Princess Diana

Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops.  ~Cary Grant

The family you come from isn't as important as the family you're going to have. ~Ring Lardner

I don't think anyone has a normal family. ~Edward Furlong

People are pretty forgiving when it comes to other people's families. The only family that ever horrifies you is your own. ~Doug Coupland

I've always put my family first and that's just the way it is. ~Jamie Lee Curtis

Pray in your family daily, that yours may be in the number of the families who call upon God. ~Christopher Love

 Share something about your family. And have a great weekend!

C is for Chaney (and ISWG)

My grandmother’s maiden name was Chaney. I’ve always loved that name. In fact, that’s what we named our daughter. When my romantic comedy was contracted by Silhouette Romance, I had to choose a pen name. I chose Jessica Chaney. I thought it sounded romantic, fun, and memorable. Much to my disappointment, the editors vetoed my choice, insisting it sounded like the name of a horror writer because of you-know-who: Lon Chaney

 

Leonidas Frank Chaney was born in Colorado Springs, Colorado, to Frank H. Chaney and Emma Alice Kennedy; his father had mostly English and some French ancestry, and his mother was of Scottish, English, and Irish descent. Her father, Jonathan Ralston Kennedy, founded the "Colorado School for the Education of Mutes" (now, Colorado School for the Deaf and Blind) in 1874, and Chaney's parents met there.  Both of Chaney's parents were deaf, and as a child of deaf adults Chaney became skilled in pantomime. He entered a stage career in 1902, and began traveling with popular Vaudeville and theater acts. In 1905, he met and married 16-year-old singer Cleva Creighton (Frances Cleveland Creighton) and in 1906, their first child and only son, Creighton Chaney (later known as Lon Chaney, Jr.) was born. The Chaneys continued touring, settling in California in 1910.  (taken from Wikipedia)

I wish I could discover a family connection to Lon Chaney.

Are you related to anyone famous? If you are, who? If you could choose a famous relative, who would it be and why?

________________________________________________________

I totally forgot that today is IWSG day.
The purpose of IWSG is to share and encourage and it was started by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Because I love IWSG and take it seriously, I'm tacking on a couple of great quotes to encourage you. Wish I knew this guy or gal named ... Unknown.


When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place.
~ Unknown

Instead of giving myself reasons why I can't, I give myself reasons why I can.

~ Unknown

The Importance of Family

For months, we've been planning to attend a Ferguson Family Reunion in East Texas. We talked the kids into joining us. Yeah... fun for them, huh? Most youngsters don't enjoy sitting around eating unidentifiable casseroles and listening to old people discuss the past. They don't realize they'll be planning their own family reunions before they know it. Oh, how the years fly . . .

We took off on Friday in little Rhonda the Honda. I think I've mentioned that we bought Rhonda for our daughter back in 2001--a graduation present, but a couple of years ago we gave her our CRV, thinking she needed a newer vehicle so I've been driving Rhonda. And she's been great. She has a lot of get up and go which makes me feel energetic. I like being able to wheel into the tiniest of parking spots. Rhonda's nine years old and has around 65,000 miles on her. Yeah, that tells you how much running around daughter did. Good daughter--good Rhonda/Honda.

Well, back to taking off on Friday. We got as far as Iowa (that's Iowa, LA just about 10 miles down the road) and something didn't feel right. I was driving. I'm very in-tune with my vehicles. I can usually tell when something isn't right. I can even feel it when they've been worked on, tuned up... there's just a feeling. Well, long story short as the cliche goes, Rhonda was sick and Rhonda broke.

Press the gas, nothing.

Put her in reverse and press the gas. Nothing.

She just hung there.

We were towed back to Lake Charles by the cutest wrecker driver I've ever seen. He and hubby had great discussion about family values, stuff they learned from their dads, etc. I listened and took notes. This cutie is definitely lodged in my memory as hero material. I've been wondering what kind of heroine would suit him. :)

So... Steve the wrecker driver towed Rhonda to the Honda place where she stayed the weekend. Hubby and I were transported home to get his truck, back to Rhonda to transfer our belongings, then off to get daughter in Lafayette, and pack everything into CRV. Of course, by this time, we'd worked up an appetite so we ate before leaving Lafayette. Who can pass up Coyote Blues and their great tacos? Got to Longview motel at 11:30 pm Friday night, and up early the next morning to head to Mineola, TX.

Daughter and son got to meet cousins they didn't know they had, and visit with cousins they haven't seen in quite awhile. (You can see by the pic that they're all caught up.)

I know this isn't really writing related but it can be because family stories are important. It's easy to gripe about going to family reunions or class reunions--it does take effort. But I think it's important to tell your kids old family stories, even family gossip, stories from your school days and childhood. It's important to give them a sense of belonging to their family name.

The Fergusons have been known as good and godly people. Of course, among all those good people are a few interesting renegades, as in any family. Our kids have heard Ferguson tales for 27 and 30 years. If they listened, paid attention, they'll be able to pass some of these stories on to their own kids. Some of those stories are even written down.

They've heard stories from my side of the family too but the difference is ... there won't be any more family reunions in my family, ever again. My family bit the dust years ago because of words and actions that can't be taken back. Cousins speak with reservation through emails. Aunts and uncles don't speak at all. They're dying off--unforgiving and unforgiven.

Treasure your family--no matter how large or small. Share your history with your children and grandchildren. Write that history.

No matter how far away that family reunion is, no matter the hassle, do it! Go! Putting flowers on a loved one's grave, saying a prayer that our families stay healthy and loving . . . it's all important. Probably one of the most important things we can do is BE with that part of our family that we never get to see.

Are you in touch with your family? Do you see them often? Is there someone in your family you haven't spoken to in years? Think about making contact before it's too late.

NOTE: Hubby and I looked at new vehicles on Monday. I felt guilty. I think I'm a little too attached to Rhonda. She's family.

Happy Birthday to Someone Special

Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart. ~Author Unknown

This cutie is 28 years old today, though technically, being a leap year baby, he's really only seven. :) When Brian came into my life, he awakened my maternal instincts. His hugs and kisses made me want a little one of my own. So, I married his daddy, and we had the perfect little family.
Don't we look young?

What fun those years were, and boy, did they go by fast. I thank the Lord for you, Brian. You made my life special.

Chaney and Brian smiling behind their books.

You're all grown up now, but just as precious as that little boy who captured my heart. Happy Birthday! I love you.