Hmmm…

We are changing some behind-the-scenes, technical stuff with this site. It’s possible that it may be down for a few days. Never fear; we’ll be back soon!

Hello again. It’s now a tradition of mine to post this each January. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Which is your favorite month of the year? Of course, January is everyone’s best-loved month, right?

Okay, probably not.

Ten or 15 years ago January was last on my list. Back then I didn’t like cold weather, and January just seemed like a bleak, blustery, colorless month that had to be endured. I wondered if a person could get in on the bears’ hibernation deal.

What changed? Maybe it was when I got married in a January wedding. Suddenly there was a permanent bright spot on the calendar that time every year. Also around that time I launched into my transition from a hot-weather loving/cold-weather shunning girl into quite the opposite.

Whatever the reason, I now really like the first month of the year. While not my absolute favorite, it does have its charms. Yes, after Christmas and New Year’s, life resumes with the hustle and bustle of daily routines. …But overall, there seems to be a quiet simplicity that hushes the land. A brisk stillness that can be seen in bare tree branches and blankets of snow. It’s as if nature has paused for a moment.

It’s a welcome chance for me to pause as well, reminiscing with a smile about the holidays, being grateful for countless blessings, and feeling hopeful about the time ahead. Maybe that’s also why I’m drinking hot chocolate more often–it’s a chance to warm up and take a moment to stop and just think…often a rarity in our busy days.

(At least that’s the reason I tell myself as I take another sip.) =)

A few things I noticed while running around town today. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Sunny showers of falling leaves

–nature’s confetti dancing on the breeze,

celebrating the ripe, old year

that’s not quite ready to surrender

NaNoWriMo.  No, that’s not Mork that you’re hearing.

It stands for National Novel Writing Month.  Every November 1-30, novelists wanting a push to crank out first drafts gather at NaNoWriMo.org, register, and set a personal goal to wrestle into existence at least 50,000 words of a novel. The idea is to simply generate quantity, not quality, so that by the end of the month there’s raw material to shape and improve.

Of course, I’ve had no problem getting out my first draft of my novel.  (Those of you who know me well are stepping back, waiting lightning to strike me.) Sigh.  Alas, I’ve been slower than Christmas writing this novel.

I need deadlines.  So…I’m going to dive in to NaNoWriMo this year.  I can think of a million reasons why this is a horrible month to challenge myself with a goal like this, but when is there a good time?  The last few weeks I’ve missed concerted writing, and this is a great way to jump start me.

Will I meet the goal?  Who knows?  But this girl’s sure gonna give it her best shot.

Cheer me on or heckle me for lagging:  soon I’ll try to add a widget on this blog so you can see how far I’m getting.

Do you ever feel like today’s technology is secretly in charge–rather than vice versa?

I had one of those suspicions recently.

While on a short trip, I had just washed my hands in a convenience store bathroom. Turning to get a paper towel, I saw that it was one of those fancy machines…you know, the ones where you gracefully pass your hand in front of the sensor, and the dispenser complies by providing a towel.

At least, that’s the idea.

But this one had a low battery, or an attitude, or both. It emitted a groan of pain when I tried the normal routine. No dice.

I sighed and tried again, waving a little harder. It reluctantly gave up an inch of paper.

No paper towel machine was going to beat me. I gritted my teeth and ramped it up again, eventually waving so furiously that 1) my hands were dry already just from the movement, and 2) I looked like a little girl waving at Santa passing by in a Christmas parade, minus the smiles.

Oh, but I got my paper towel, make no mistake.

As I left, though, I had a distinct feeling that the machine was silently snickering at me.  Hmm…