It's Begining to Look A Lot Like - WHAT???

I can't believe it, but my local radio station is already playing "All Christmas Music All The Time." ( I won't be listening to them anymore until January 1, but I'm sure they don't care about that.) However, this reminds me that I'd better start making my list - and checking out my checking account.

Here's a great way to get some online coupons and save a ton of money on your holiday shopping - couponchief.com.

You can get coupons from stores like Sharper Image and Best Buy (great for all the neat electronic gadgets that Jim and Brian like so much), from clothing stores like Saks Fifth Avenue and Eddie Bauer(for my mom and my girlfriends), and even from Pet Smart (better not forget Magic and Molly!!) Personally, I'm going to grab some coupons from Dell, and leave them in strategic places with pictures of the 8" x 11" notebook computer that I'm hoping will end up under the tree with my name on it!

This site will save me loads of dough on my holiday shopping.

Check it out.

Saving Daylight

The government has given us a gift today ~the gift of time. One precious, extra hour, to be used however we see fit, all thanks to William Willet, an Englishman who first proposed this concept of saving daylight back in the early days of the 20th century. I like the idea of saving daylight, for I am a day person through and through. Darkness agitates and tires me~I don't see well to drive, even with headlamps on bright. My mood improves incrementally as spring lengthens into summer and daylight lasts ever longer. Conversely, as the equinox begins to shift, so does my temperment. When the sun sets outside my kitchen window before I've even begun to think about dinner, I could simply howl. As for suddenly having an extra hour in my day, certainly if you've ever read anything I've written you know how precious time is to me. The barrage of items scrawled on my daily "to do" list always outpaces the number of hours available, so being gifted with an extra one is like gold. So what will I be doing with this precious commodity? As I go through my day, I'll be asking myself the same question. Is this my extra hour, while I'm taking a longer than usual walk with the dogs? Is this it, puttering around Borders, where I intend to go later with my 40% off coupon? Or have I spent it already, getting up at 4:30 a.m. (which was really 5:30 a.m.) and working on NaNoWriMo? A blog buddy of mine wrote about some of the ways she would use an extra hour in her day if we should be so fortunate to have one every day (be still my heart!). She includes a number of altruistic activities, and I'd like to think I, too, would use extra time for good deeds - visiting my elderly relatives, running errands for my neighbors, packing food baskets for our church's pantry. If I had the luxury of 25 hours every day, I hope I would be so inclined. But since the 25 hour day comes only once per year, I confess that I plan to be totally hedonistic in my use of those 60 minutes. After all, how often do we get a freebie like this - especially from the government? How about you? How do you plan on using your extra hour today?

This post prompted by "Pick Three," Option Six on the November menu at Cafe Writing

Seven Wonderful Words

Choose seven of your favorite words, one of several inspiring prompts on the November menu at Cafe Writing...check it out if you're doing NaBloPoMo and need an idea, or NaNoWriMo, and need a break! Percolation~a word that recalls my mother's Corningware percolator, hot coffee bubbling up inside the glass top with its own nifty little rhythm... Dervish~ as in "whirling," which calls to mind a the excitement of gyspy dancing, spooky firelight, an music from a squeezebox... Lovely ~actually, I prefer the way the British say it - "luvly," meaning "just ducky"... Arabesque~a graceful ballet movement depicted in the sound of the word - and also one of my favorite pieces of music for piano, written by Claude Debussy... Cavort~doesn't that sound like fun?? Transcendent~a power I only wish I had, to place myself on a higher plane... Please~a politeness, but also an exclamation, as in "puh-leeze"...

Off and Running

Things have been rather quiet here of late, time and energy that might otherwise have gone toward thinking and writing, far better spent in time with my son and daughter in law, who have been with us for the past couple of weeks. And things may continue to be quiet, at least here at the Byline. For though my visitors are heading home in a few days, my time and energy will return to writing, but this time to the great novel writing effort that takes place each November. (trumpet fanfare) NaNoWriMo. Last year was my first foray into this madness, my first venture into fiction writing at all. When I signed up, I never imagined I would finish. But, I did. It wasn't terribly difficult to do - oh, I had a few moments of panic in the middle of the second week (apparently a normal occurrence during that period in the process), but I sailed through until the end, crossing the 50,000 word mark several days shy of the deadline. I admit to a bit more trepidation this year. Last year being my initial effort, I didn't feel quite so pressured to complete it. So what? I figured. I'll give it a shot and see what happens. I kept the entire project completely under wraps - no one (except my blog readers) knew I was participating. Once I was done, I printed out all 120 pages of Dear Samantha, put them in a folder, and tucked them safely away in the cupboard. But this year, having once completed (or won, as the NaNoWriMo folks call it), the expectation is much higher. How stupid will I feel if I don't finish this time? Am I just a "one shot wonder"? I went to bed last night nearly convinced to throw in the towel before I even began. Better not to start at all, I reasoned, than to start and fail. Hmm. This morning I awoke at 3:30, and couldn't go back to sleep. The usual worries started their familiar roiling in my mind, but underneath them was a nagging voice urging me to get up, start writing, don't waste this time. So, I did. Ensconced in my big green chair, steaming hot coffee close at hand, one dog curled beside me, the other on the ottoman at my feet, I started out on another journey into a land of make believe with a group of people I'm already getting to know much better. A couple of thousand words later (well, 2,844 to be exact) I'm once again feeling excited and energized about this project. Just do it, the now famous Nike slogan advises us. Good advice, for writers as well as athletes. Once you begin it, you're in it. So, forgive me if my posting in the coming weeks is erratic, or if I seem to have tunnel vision about this novel business. It's quite all-consuming, and I may need a place to brain dump periodically. And for the rest of you who set off this morning on the great novel writing adventure, I wish you godspeed and good writing.

Encyclopedia of Me Monday: K is for...

An inordinate amount of time is spent in my kitchen, certainly not because of its charm or efficacy, or because I have such stellar skills to practice there. In fact, the kitchen here is cramped and slightly dark, designed poorly with a door to the backyard right in the middle which takes up much needed space. It's barely big enough for two people to sit down and eat together, and preparing any kind of complex meal is a challenge with about 12 inches of bare counter space. But it's the place we seem to end up most often, whether to make coffee, grab a handful of cookies, let the dogs in or out (that ridiculous door), or just lean against the counter talking.

I harbor dreams about bright, spacious kitchens, with one of those cooking islands in the middle, copper pots hanging overhead. I imagine people gathered around, sipping wine, sneaking bites of whatever gourmet feast I'm preparing for them.

But whenever I'm tempted to blame my lack of culinary prowess on the size of my kitchen, I recall a television special a few years ago with Julia Child and Wolfgang Puck, cooking together in Julia's home kitchen. These two world reknowned chefs prepared a five course meal in a kitchen no bigger than a breadbox - a galley kitchen with not more than a square foot of empty counterspace anywhere. They were literally bumping into each other at every turn, and by the time they were done, not an inch of space wasn't occupied by a dirty bowl, pot, or dish.

Yet, they laughed, and talked, and sampled, and finally served a glorious meal.

So no excuses in my kitchen, which is grandiose by those standards.

Then again, I'm not Julia Child.

The kitchen is often called the "heart of the home," and for all it's shortcomings, I have to admit my little kitchen often serves that purpose.