Category Archives: Life Moments

Quarantine Baking Blues

When these silicone loaf pans came out of the package, The Husband truly believed them to be bedside vomit trays. You know when a dog sees or hears something strange and their head tilts? Now picture a grown human man–sans floppy ears–doing that. Albeit, these are a little odd. I had ordered them over a month ago when we were still using Amazon (we’ve since shifted our bucks elsewhere) and I wanted them fast (we had just watched Bread Week on The Great British Bake Show) and were jonesing for home-baked bread. By this time, the rest of the quarantine bakers (who had already bought up all the yeast in America) had just cleaned Amazon out of loaf pans, but I was willing to settle in order to get baking quickly.

I didn’t know they were going to take so long to receive. And be so ugly. Plus, they’re bigger than I anticipated (9×4). I’m not always good about checking measurements before I buy. (I still have 95 extra die if anyone has a hankering for Yahtzee.) These trays came with measuring spoons that look to have come from a child’s play kitchen, or the baby aisle at Target, casting further doubt unto the intended purpose of this “bakeware.”

One last detail and you’ll be caught up on the backstory of these double-duty household trays: they were free. Two days before they arrived, Amazon deemed them lost at sea and issued me a refund (I’ll inform them as soon as I have a free moment–you know, things are super busy right now).

So, I need some inspiration, dear loyal readers. My baking dreams have waned since that first Bread Week but I’m not yet ready to relegate these versatile trays to under the bathroom sink or nightstand. Can you send me a yeast-free recipe? Sweet, savory, and oh by the way, veggie (veganizable, if possible). I just lost you all, didn’t I? Look, I’ve been veganizing stuff for ten years, so I’ve got confidence in my faux-egg skills.

The Great Be-gan Challenge. Get it? Baking . . . vegan . . . sorry, The Great Quarantine Delirium has began. See? I did it again. Ugh, sorry.

On the Rebound

According to Hindu philosophy, animals eventually will reincarnate into people, but only if the animal has no fear of humans. This can only happen if we are kind to them. How many times have we heard someone say that their dog or cat thinks it’s a human? Some Hindus will tell you that that’s because their pet is in fact, ready to be a human in its next life.

I can get behind that.

Last month, we had to say goodbye to our eight-year-old boxer after he sustained a sudden illness. I believe the only thing Moe felt differentiated him from a human, was that he took a heartworm pill every month. I have no doubt he will become a handsome and charming human and will love long walks on the beach. (Think Ryan Reynolds.)

So of course, we knew we’d miss his exuberance when we came in the front door; miss taking him for his daily walk; and miss his goofiness, especially when an exercise ball freaked him out. But as the days and weeks have gone by, I felt his loss is unexpected ways:

Nearly-empty jars of peanut butter get rinsed with water instead of being licked clean before going into the recycling bin.A dog and his peanut butter

Eating popcorn without being watched, feels unnatural.

The mail sits in the mailbox at the end of the cul-de-sac for days at a time now because we no longer go on an evening walk and often just forget to pick it up.

Bringing groceries into the house is anti-climatic because the excitement radiating from this child-with-fur whose waiting for a surprise out of one of the bags, just isn’t there.

The wood floor in the kitchen has an annoying shine because the dried drool marks are gone.

I never thought I’d miss dog farts, nose prints on the glass door, and floating dog hair in the air.

I knew it’d be lonely, but holy crap, I had no idea. The Husband and I work from home, so when he went away for a work trip, I wasn’t fully prepared for the deafening silence. Even a tank full of fish or a lava lamp might have helped. Or dare I say . . . a cat? My neighborhood is full of free range felines and I have found myself keeping a lookout for them. I’ve fallen for a beautiful black one with white paws and green eyes that actually showed me some affection.

I know he’s no good for me. I’m allergic. But would it be so bad to let him come in and walk around? Snuggle a little? I could wash my hands and use a sticky roller on my clothes later . . . I could take an allergy pill. I’m all about protection.

Yes, I’m on the rebound. I’d take in a squirrel if it showed signs of domestication.

I know, just get another dog, right? First of all, it’s too soon. Second, with our son likely leaving the nest in about two years, The Husband and I would like to do some traveling for months at a time, so having a pet wouldn’t be a wise decision.

But . . .

In 2007, Moe picked us out when we came to look at a litter of seven boxer puppies. I believe he did that because he knew we would be his best chance at becoming a human in his next life. There’s no guarantee we won’t get another dog sooner rather than later, because when a dog picks you, you have no choice but to scoop him up and take him home.

 

A Stat Tease

Folsom's 93 by April MooreThis morning, WordPress informed me that my stats were on fire at Folsom’s 93, my other site. Sure enough, the last two days registered quite a jump. I don’t get a lot of traffic at my two sites, so my writer heart was all a flutter when I saw that I had over 500 hits before 10 a.m. Did an exec at the History Channel fall in love with my book? Did Oprah add it to her prized bookshelf? Surely, some influential bigwig is about to make my author dreams come true.

Is it finally my time to break the internet?! *squeals of delight*

No. One of my posts made it onto Reddit. And I immediately knew which one. It appears folks are strangely fascinated with . . .

 kiestering.

And people google it. A lot. Because it regularly shows up as a search term on my analytics All. The. Time. Don’t know what it is? That’s okay, you’re not alone. For as many people who are keenly interested in it, there are twice as many who don’t know what the hell it is. In 2011, fellow writer, Jason Brick, wrote a guest post regarding this very topic, thus, illuminating the blogosphere to the act of hiding contraband up your derriere. Little did I know, it would become one of the most popular posts on the site. If you must

I appreciate the visits of course, but it doesn’t appear a documentary about Folsom prison’s executed men is in the works, nor a spike in Amazon sales. That doesn’t mean the book isn’t as enthralling as keistering. I assure you, it’s even more so. *clutches book to chest*

It goes to show that the interests of the people is vast and varied, so if you are looking for a new book project, might I suggest one on keistering. It’s sure to be a hit.

The Art of History

Old photo album

I recently acquired a family photo album that is more of a scrapbook; filled not only with pictures of bygone relatives, but with valuable, written histories, too. With modern technology, I envision worn and weathered photo albums becoming relics. Even albums from when my son was a baby, look dated. So many family histories are lost, and I always find it sad to find decades-old photographs in flea markets; these sepia-tinted orphans that belong in a family. (Of course, finding old photos is my thing.) With Facebook and other online media, your every move can be documented; immortalized for all time. If you’re a celebrity and want to know what you ate for lunch a year ago, just Google.

I’m lucky that my ancestors deemed their lives worthy of commemorating, otherwise, I’m not so sure I would have known I had relatives who fought in the Revolutionary War and the Civil War.

War record

I was also thrilled to learn that there’s some writer-illustrator genes that go way back.
Frank V. Martinek original drawingsIn the back of the album are original drawings from 1924 by author and cartoonist, Frank V. Martinek. He had married into my crazy family. Martinek was a Lieutenant Commander in the U.S. Navy and in an effort to educate and help recruit American youth, particularly in the Midwest, Martinek created the comic strip, Don Winslow of the Navy.
Don Winslow of the NavyWinslow was based on a character in novels Martinek had already written. The comic strip ran from 1934 to 1955, and two films were made in the ’40s. Martinek didn’t actually do the illustrating for the comic, but provided all of the stories. Originally created as a propaganda tool, the strip was said to be very popular for its “excellence suspense, and ingenious, spine-joggling situations.” One historian said that Don Winslow is filled with “intrigue, spychasing, beautiful women, and villains with names like Dr. Centaur, the Dwarf, and the Scorpion.”

Don Winslow and the Scorpion's Stronghold

Martinek wrote several books:

Don Winslow and the Navy
Don Winslow Saves the Secret Formula
Don Winslow Breaks the Spy Net
Don Winslow of the Navy and the Great War Plot
Don Winslow Navy Intelligence Ace
Don Winslow U.S.N. in Ceylon
Don Winslow and the Scorpion’s Stronghold
Don Winslow and the Giant Girl Spy (The Better Little Book)
Don Winslow of the Navy and the Secret Enemy Base
Lieutenant Commander Don Winslow U.S.N. (The Big Little Book)
Know Your Man
Face to Face with the Scorpion

You can download Don Winslow of the Navy (1940) for free or read it online. I don’t have any other particular reason for this post, other than to well . . . preserve some history.

Back in the Saddle

CA collageNever underestimate the recharging power of a vacation. We just returned from a 9-day jaunt in northern California and it was spectacular. I feel refreshed and ready to go, especially now that I have a new project underway—this time, a young adult novel. 

Yesterday, I helped out at the Northern Colorado Writers booth at Fort Collins’ New West Fest where I got to chat with people about writing and sell a few books. 

New West Fest, Northern Colorado Writers

We (appropriately) rounded off the weekend with a nice cold What-A-Melon beer from a local brew pub. Who doesn’t love a book photo op?

Bobbing for Watermelons by April J. MooreI’d also like to let you in on a deal.

Baby Shoes: 100 Stories, 100 Authors will be available tomorrow (August 18th) for half price. This is a really great book featuring some amazing authors showcasing their flash fiction chops. I’m honored to be among these authors with my story, “An Affair to Forget.”

Baby Shoes Anthology And finally . . . 

Polish up those manuscripts because the Top of the Mountain Book Award will be underway in about a month. A few guidelines have changed and entrants will now have the opportunity to get their submission critiqued. So keep this contest in mind and check the site mid-September for all the rules.

NCW Top of the Mountain Book Award

Happy writing!

 

 

Parental Instructions Take an Unexpected Turn

It must have been when our son was around 11 or 12 when we’d let him stay home alone while we went out for a night of grownup, childless debauchery. Despite his eyes being glued to the T.V., we felt certain he understood our instructions: Don’t answer the door; Don’t watch [fill in the blank] on Netflix; and Don’t answer the phone unless it’s us. What kind of parents would we be if we didn’t, right? Plus, we’ve always followed up with Love you.

Then, when he started going out with friends, these snippets of parental advice elevated to things like, Make good choices and Be smart. 

Once he got his driver’s license, it forced us to dig into our bag of parent-isms and come up with a new set to accommodate this life milestone. Don’t text, Don’t drink, and Be careful. (Make good choices and Be Smart also carried over because, hey, they can work in any situation.)

Our son has never done anything to make us believe he will become a ward of the state; he’s always been responsible, respectful, and trustworthy. But still, we’re parents and it feels weird not saying something. You just have to. You hope that in the unlikely event his friends ask him to take part in a crime spree that’ll spread across several state lines, he’ll say, “You know, my mom said to make good choices. I’m out.” Deep down, we know he’ll do the right thing because for years, we’ve witnessed him doing just that.

Still . . .

After these first six months of being a licensed driver, our son can now finish our parental sentences before we do. It’s generally accompanied by a nod and an eye roll. Fortunately, he has a good sense of humor and often indulges us. Yesterday, as he headed out to meet some friends, I yelled, “Don’t be an asshole!”

My husband, in the midst of eating lunch, nearly choked. Then we all laughed. Our son said that he loved that one the most and asked if it could encompass all the other warnings and instructions. We agreed. (We still say Love you though.)

I told him that I’d put it on a t-shirt, which he wholeheartedly welcomed. 

"Don't Be An Asshole" --Mom

I designed it; I didn’t say I’d actually order it. 

So teach your kids to not be assholes. They may actually hear you. I later received this status update:
Parental Instructions

June Swoon

I grew up as a Cubs fan so I know all about the June Swoon. It’s something my father would say with a sigh as we watched the Cubbies chalk up another loss. Just when we thought they were on their way, in came the slump. My own June Swoon actually started in May, and I’m still trying to weasel out of its grasp.

This is my writing desk, newly painted. I figured since I haven’t been using it, it’d be a fine time to repaint it.

Writing desk I realized, that when I had spent more time at the desk peeling the old paint off of it, than writing, it was time to take a break. The paint-peeling worked as a distraction from the glaring blank screen, but then the ugly desk became a distraction from the writing (at least, that’s what I told myself). I could talk about how peeling the layers of paint was like peeling back the layers of a scene or a character, or blah, blah, blah, but really, sometimes peeling paint is just that: peeling paint. It was also a sign that I need to step away for a little while. So that’s what I’ve done. 

Yesterday, as I got caught up with some podcasts, I scraped, sanded, and painted. And it felt good. It’s still in the garage with its new-desk smell and will eventually be hauled back upstairs. I’ll let it sit pretty for a little while as I work on peeling back my own layers and seeing what’s underneath. (Sorry, I had to do it.)

And it all started with a killer sunset . . .

Kayaking
SunsetDo you ever feel the need to step away from a project? How do you deal with a writing slump?

 

Words & Images Workshop

Kayaks -- April J. Moore

I recently participated in a photography-poetry workshop where we learned how to take photographs (even with a camera phone) and combine finished pieces with works of poetry. I’ll be the first to admit that poetry is not my forte (you can see my previous dismal attempt here). For this workshop, Kerrie Flanagan helped guide us through writing haikus and Cinquains. Turns out there’s a science to this poetry stuff. 

Basic Haiku:
Line 1: Five syllables
Line 2: Seven syllables
Line 3: Five Syllables

Basic Cinquain:
Line 1: Two syllables
Line 2: Four syllables
Line 3: Six syllables
Line 4: Eight syllables
Line 5: Two syllables

This was a great workshop that got me to try something I hadn’t done before. I’ve always loved taking photos, but I never took them much further than my camera phone (which I’ll point out, took all of these photos). And of course, dabbling in poetry—something brand new to me—was fantastic. 

Hold On -- April J. Moore

My child,
who clings to me,
I’ve no arms to pull you;
what any mother longs to do.
Hold on.
                                                     ~ Mother Earth

Canoe -- April J. Moore
Come now,
moment is right.
Smooth, calm, and just like glass.
Bring a paddle so we can then
shatter.

Self Portrait -- April J. Moore

Forget about up,
cast your eyes on something else;
see the world anew.

Toshiba Tears --April J. Moore

Toshiba Tears

Unplugged and marked free.
Still, stories unfold on screens
that no one watches.

Droplets -- April J. Moore

Droplets gather here,
safe upon this ledge of green.
Don’t drip, drizzle, drop!

Suzette McIntyre, our photography instructor and owner of Boardwalk Gallery, put together a wonderful show of everyone’s work. Part of the fun was seeing what everyone had done. If you live in the area and are interested in participating in the next workshop (likely this fall) contact Suzette. Even if you don’t take a class like this, I urge to try this activity on your own; it might spark a new interest you didn’t know was there.
Words & Images reception -- April J. Moore