Archive for the ‘inspiration’ Category

The Loveland Corn Roast Parade is coming

Friday, August 27th, 2010

Parades. The first parade I remember well was on the Fourth of July and I was a participant. My older sister helped my little sister and me decorate our tricycles with red, white, and blue crepe paper. We affixed tiny American flags all over our bikes and pedaled the parade route through out tiny downtown to welcome Alaska as a state.

Then we saw Music Man performed live by my older brother’s high school.

I was hooked.

Tomorrow I’ll be in a parade, too. This time the theme is corn … for the Loveland’s annual Corn Roast Festival Parade. I look forward to the smiling faces, the music and camaraderie, and all that goes with a hometown festival.

Watch for Loveland 365 – we will be a sandwich-boarded group marching and singing. It is good to celebrate living in a community and being a part of something whose sum equals more than the individual parts.

For info on Loveland’s Corn Roast Festival, visit the Loveland Chamber of Commerce website.

What Color is Joy?

Monday, August 16th, 2010

Opening a brand new box of crayons ranks right up there on my joy scale. As a kid, I might not have been ready for school to begin in August, but I was always ready for the fresh start and unlimited possibilities contained in the rainbow of perfect points in my new box of crayons each year.

My daughter starts her junior year of high school tomorrow. My son leaves for his sophomore year of college the day after that. Maybe they don’t need Crayolas anymore, but I do.

I have a new box of 24 sitting on my desk right now. More than the basic eight, but not so many as to be overwhelmed with the choices. Blue green, apricot, cerulean, carnation pink, yellow-green, green-yellow. Now all I need is a coloring book.

Return to Handwriting Analysis

Friday, July 16th, 2010

 by Phyllis Kennemer

When my friend Lynda contacted me about giving some lectures on handwriting for some groups in libraries, my first impulse was to say “No.” My years as an active handwriting analyst were far behind me and I had tossed all of my materials when I moved from my house to my apartment about three years ago.

Then I talked to Lynda on the telephone and she quoted a generous honorarium, plus mileage, for the lectures. I reconsidered. How hard could it be to reconstruct something I had worked with so intimately for more than ten years. Of course those ten years were from about 1968 to 1981!

First, I needed to get some materials to review. I went online and discovered a website for the International Graphoanalysis Society. Since I had signed up as a lifetime member in 1969, I thought I would be able to acquire what I needed relatively easily. Not so fast! The new owner would not communicate with me via his website and hung up on me when I telephoned him. I found a used set of materials on Amazon.com and told Lynda I would do the lectures.

I prepared my talk on the letter “t”. This letter represents the writer’s goals and accomplishments and the letter is made in a variety of ways. I begin each session with writing a paragraph containing lots of “t’s” on the board and ask participants to copy it in a style of writing that is comfortable for them. Then they can analyze their own writing as we continue.

My first lecture was for a teenage audience. This was a new and interesting experience. The teenagers wrote the paragraph on their papers and promptly turned the papers over so no wandering eyes would discover anything about them. They sat almost expressionless throughout the session and I was afraid I was boring them, but when I finished each one had personal questions for me. They had taken it all in!

The next two lectures were given for adult audiences. They were attentive and interactive – asking many questions as we went along. A common question began with “Does this mean anything?” The answer is always “Yes”. Every stroke placed on a surface means something.

When I reflected on my return to handwriting analysis, I was glad I had reacquainted myself with something of significance in my life. And I was glad that I had once again come to the realization that, “Yes. Everything we do, write, or say does have meaning.”

This Land is Your Land! This Land is My Land!

Monday, June 28th, 2010

Independence Day, a.k.a. the Fourth of July, is the ultimate holiday event celebrated throughout America. This day is marked by those who honor the history, government and traditions of the United States. There are many different patriotic displays where citizens of all ages pay homage to our nation.

People wear red, white and blue hats, shirts and other clothing, decorate their homes, public places and everything else with streamers, balloons, ribbons and other ornaments. They proudly fly the American flag. All this enthusiasm is to commemorate our historic evolution and encourage our progress for the future.

In the mornings, people of all ages gather along Main Street, USA across our country to view local parades, cheer on the marchers and salute the American flag.

During the afternoons many attend carnivals, fairs and baseball games. Some go on picnics, have backyard barbeques and grill their favorite foods. Others gather at a pool, lake or oceanfront to splish ‘n splash trying to keep cool in the hot afternoon sun while they await the traditional finale of the day.

When evening arrives, the parks, fairgrounds, town squares and waterside facilities fill with families who gather to watch the sky light up with colorful fireworks.

They attend concerts and listen to patriotic songs like  “the Star Spangled Banner”, “God Bless America”,  ”America the Beautiful“, “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee“, “This Land Is Your Land“, “Stars and Stripes Forever“, and, regionally, “Yankee Doodle” in northeastern states and “Dixie” in southern states.

Some military bases give a one-gun-salute for each state in the United States, called a “salute to the union,” on Independence Day at noon.

If you’ve never been to our nation’s capital, I strongly recommend you take a trip to Washington D.C..  Regardless of your political affiliation, I guarantee the experience will impress you. Indeed this land is your land and this land is my land. This home of the free and the brave (with all its faults) deserves a celebration.

How will you celebrate July 4th this year?

Winter Retreat

Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010

Winter Retreat

            The warm crackling heat from the furnace wraps its arms around me like an old fur coat.

            I snuggle between the kitchen table on a chair and prepare to eat breakfast.

            The aroma of cinnamon and apples, along with the toasty smell of coffee, works its way up into my nostrils.

            I turn the corners of my mouth up into a grin, pull my sweatshirt closer to my body and prepare my cereal with butter; sugar and heavy cream, then embrace the enticing morning feast with a gulp of coffee, while reaping the fine rewards that a cold morning can offer.

Memento

Tuesday, April 6th, 2010

I am working on a memoir. It is quite a process to write a story….about yourself.

A couple weeks ago I sat in a memoir workshop. The instructor asked us to pull out a memento we had with us and write down why it had special meaning. Memento…. an object given or kept as a reminder in memory of somebody or something.

I looked through my purse; shuffled through old receipts, my wallet, sunglasses, and cell phone. At first glance, I didn’t carry a thing in memory of somebody or something There was nothing special in my big, black, bag. So, I kept quiet and listened to what others had to say.

“I have one,” said the man behind me, “I have a tattoo on each arm to remind me of my quadruple bypass surgery. My left arm has a heart with a band aid on. My right has the names of my grandchildren. They are the people who got me through this surgery.”

Well, I certainly don’t have a memento like that.

The woman down the aisle stood up. “I have my i-phone which has a GPS. The last map on it was a run up Horsetooth I did three days ago. I’m training for a half-marathon. This winter has been the first time I’ve felt strong enough to run since my chemotherapy. The half-marathon is in three weeks and I think I’ll be able to do it.”

Story after story was told; heartbreaking, yet strong stories, stories of the human spirit.

I opened my purse again and found an old syringe used for Samantha’s medicine. I pulled out the ‘tool’ used to open oxygen tanks for Samantha. This tool doubles as a key chain. Ironically, it was wrapped around my Children’s Hospital badge.

Are these mementos? Are these keepsakes? Is the scar from my c-section just as much a keepsake as my great-grandmothers quilt? They all tell a story of who I am….MY life.

I watched the people around me pull out items and create stories; the tiny threads of their experiences and I thought that being a writer, being able to capture life within a plastic syringe, is pretty darn cool.

I Breathe You

Thursday, April 1st, 2010

From the Ditch Witch Chronicles –

April is finally here. The long winter is over and I can see green, everywhere.

 I manage a 110 acre agricultural farm in Larimer County—my job is to irrigate the pasture (thus the moniker “The Ditch Witch”) and provide forage for the free ranging 20+ horse herd living there.

Most of the horses are older, retired show friends—many are lame or exhibit the typical neurological or health problems inherit in aging.

These old ones are my favorites. No matter where I am working they amble over for a visit. One by one, they come in close and touch me with their noses and then they stand quietly next to me…like in the movie ‘Avatar’, they ‘see’ me, but in old horse speak they are saying “I breathe you.”

It means they trust and recognize me, I am accepted. What a gift! Every time it happens, I hope I smell trustworthy and dependable, solid and memorable.

Too often, I am filled with self doubt; I do not feel confident or very solid. Some days, I see me as unremarkable—my hair is grey and my left shoulder doesn’t work so well right now. The horses simply remind me that they know me and accept me as part of their herd. I value that trust and am always grateful to belong near them.

It sounds so simple. Take the time to really notice others you encounter, check out their demeanor. See if you can notice their life force and honor each of them by speaking clearly, softly saying “I breathe you. I care that you are here.” This is a good practice.

Conference Update & Surprise

Saturday, March 27th, 2010

Thanks to the generosity of a dear friend, today I had the pleasure of attending the 5th Northern Colorado Writers Conference.Writers, both published and pre-published (Mike Befler’s clever tag), joined in welcoming award winning novelist and creator of more than forty television shows, Stephen Cannell. His keynote presentation kept the audience enthralled.

Stephen had several outstanding points in his presentation:

1. “Dyslexia never stopped me and I was never afraid to bet on myself.” Translation: believe in yourself and your work.

2. He suggested you think like an agent. Do research to find out what the agent has done, mention a favorite or two then instead of asking for representation, ask for help to improve your work to get to the caliber of present clients. Translation: Flattery will get you everything…well at least it’ll get you in the door. The rest is up to you.

3. Stephen discussed his relationship with actors. He claimed his “I owe you my best opinion,” and “we can work it out,” set the scene for developing successful professional relationships.  Translation: cooperation and compromise work hand in hand for the most effective results.

I also attended three other inspiring workshops:

1.  Colorado author, Page Lambert who addressed the importance of place in writing through the use of atmosphere, symbolism, imagery, and metaphor through readings from classic novels and her own work.

2. Mike Befeler, another Colorado author, concentrated on the tools and techniques used to help an author establish a marketing platform.

3. Agents Rachelle Gardner (WordServe Literary Group—CO ), Ken Sherman (Ken Sherman and Associates Literary Agency—CA), Joe Monti (Barry Goldblatt Literary Agency—NY), and editor Ben Barnhardt (Milkweed Editions) shared their personal and professional insights via a Q&A-Agent/Editor Panel. Their presentation was informative, candid, lighthearted and encouraging.

Then to top off the evening, after a tasty buffet dinner, YA author Todd Mitchell gave a spirited presentation on why we’re called to writing, introduced us to a top-ten list of why we should never stop writing and, in a most charming way, challenged us all to keep the words alive.

My own surprise came when I mentioned to the editor from Milkweed Editions my story: A Poppin’ Tale. Seems I had contributed to one of their anthologies -  Stories From Where We Live: The Great North American Prairie and he recognized it. WOW!

When I came home I looked up the copyright date…we’re talking 2001. WOW!

I was also pleased to tell him the story had been used in the NV School Literacy tests for several years. He smiled at that tidbit of info; obviously impressed. After a brief chat, he said he’d be open to any query I think he’d be interest in taking a look-see for Milkweed. WOW!

Yes, fellow wordsmiths, I will follow up.

Eating Soup with A Fork

Saturday, March 6th, 2010

My son is a tweener; and his favorite after school snack is Ramen noodles. He steeps them carefully in a bowl of boiling water under a saucer, then eats them with a fork, with  much slurping and flipping around of bits of noodles and sauce.

(Yes– I have had to chisel them off the armchair and the floor by the tv.)

Yesterday, I said,  “Logan, please find a soup spoon.” He replied, “Mom, what’s the big deal? People in China eat them with sticks!”

He’s right, of course. In approaching any problem or task, it is really a matter of personal choice which tool or utensil one uses. But as  a mother, I thought I knew best. Being a parent of older kids has taught me that everything  I say is up for question, debate, resistance, even ridicule. It’s their individuation process.

I might not like how he eats his noodles but experience has taught me that he has a reason that makes sense to him. So,  I asked him why he eats them with a fork.

Guess what he said?

“Mom, its because the water is boiling hot and if I wind the noodles around a fork, I can eat them quickly while the juice is cooling down.”

So, there. All I have to do now is consider how  to convince him to slow down when he eats. Til then, I have the consolation of knowing that at least he can cook something that will keep him from starvation.

As a graduate student, I lived on Ramen noodles.  But I ate mine with a spoon, slowly.

Life

Sunday, February 28th, 2010

Failure is a funky fact of nature’s law to try and make us perfect.

The longest distance between the beginning and end is the middle.

To make the best of it you have to do it.

Life is stagnant until the pot is stirred and comes to boil, then overflows.