The Crab Chronicles

Gone With the Wind and Me

I am reading a terrific book called Secrets of a Charmed Life and I was thinking this morning as I read author Susan Meissner's blog, how many fascinating ways there are that my life is connected to Gone With the Wind - and not just because my home is in Atlanta.[I am speaking about the book here more than the movie.]

When I was ten years old my mother gave me a copy of the book Gone With the Wind.[Hereinafter referred to as GWTW]  I was several grade levels ahead in reading skills, but it was still a struggle to get through the 1007 page tome, in some ways. In other ways - as in, being enthralled by the character of Scarlett O'Hara - it was not. The hard part was reading all the history. 

Yes, you read that right. GWTW is filled with history.

Margaret Mitchell, the book's author, had been a newspaper reporter, and she spent years researching the history of the Civil War, or as southerners would have called it in her day The War Between the States. (That's what my mother was taught to call it, as a child.) Mitchell started writing the book in the late 1920's and didn't finish it until the mid 1930's. She did her research - which in those days involved musty old libraries, not 2 minute Google searches. Her accurate writing about of battles around Atlanta, Sherman's march, and most importantly how civilians fared in the south, during the war, were all accurate. There were civil war veterans still alive when Mitchell was born in 1900. The memories of Reconstruction were still fresh in the minds of many southerners in the 1920's.

Now, before you label me a delusional racist, let me make something clear: Gone With the Wind is a racist book and the movie is racist. Anyone who doesn't see that lives in a fantasy world. I cannot blame African Americans for hating the book because it depicts them very negatively. I won't even try to defend GWTW from charges of racism. However, I will say this. We are all products of our upbringing, and Mitchell's upbringing is where she got her attitudes, which are, from our perspective undeniably racist.

However, in her defense, Mitchell was not entirely racist, by the standards of her day. She was very upset that black cast members of the film were not invited to the 1939 premier, which was held in Atlanta. She developed a friendship with actress Hattie McDaniel and wrote many letters to her. Most importantly, she underwrote the cost of many scholarships to Morehouse College so black students could become doctors, at a time when public knowledge of that would have caused a furor. [See Dear Mammy, for more] The University of Georgia [my alma mater] possesses a collection of letters which bear out these facts.

"She was a white woman who had written a powerful novel embracing the antebellum South, its plantations and slavery. He [Dr. Benjamin Mays] was a black man who stood at the helm of a prestigious college that taught African-American men to succeed in spite of the past. But in 1942, when Benjamin Mays needed money to help poor students at financially struggling Morehouse College, he went to Margaret Mitchell. Over the next seven years, the author of "Gone With the Wind" paid the tuition of dozens of young black men to go on to medical school in Washington and Tennessee." (from Of race and a southern novel, Chicago Tribune, March 31, 2002)

So Margaret Mitchell was not 100% racist, and I feel that she should be judged by the standards of the time in which she lived, if she is to be judged fairly. I mean let's be fair - Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence and yet was a slaveowner. History is full of great people whose lives are not exemplary by our standards today, but I think it's unfair to hold everyone in the past accountable by those standards. We cannot imagine what it's like to live in any time but our own.

Now, as to how GWTW intersects with my life...

When the film premiered in 1939, here in Atlanta, my grandparents went to the ball. My mother remembers going to the parade on Peachtree Street, even though she was a small child. Papaw knew somebody who had an office on the second floor of a building adjacent to the Loew's Grand, and she recalls: "We got to sit and look out the window and see the parade."

The book was considered "naughty" but my grandparents all read it and quoted it. It was slightly shocking the word "Damn" was in a book! Even Papa, who was very conservative and straitlaced, read the book, even to the point of ignoring his children while he read. Mamaw would laugh and say "He's not paying attention because he's gone with the wind!"

Mother: "When I was growing up everybody had read the book. Everybody I knew read the book. I used it for book reports all the way through high school and college. I had memorized the number of pages and the publisher. I could sit down and scribble out a book report in about two minutes flat."

"It was not considered a love story, a trashy book. It was considered a serious book. My daddy read it. I'm sure your daddy read it. Of their contemporaries, I'm sure everybody read it."

My grandmother Cordelia was awake late one night reading the book when a pedestrian was struck and killed on the street near their house. She was so enthralled by the book, she told the police she just hadn't heard anything, and could not be of any help to them.

I visited the Margaret Mitchell House and toured it around 2000 when I was working in an office just down the street, and it's a fascinating sight, this tiny brick house amidst the towering buildings in midtown Atlanta. I went to an event a couple of years later where family members of the Atlanta Crackers were recognized and author Tim Darnell spoke. His book, The Crackers: Early Days of Atlanta Baseball is a terrific read. (My grandfather was on the Crackers team in 1919 and again in 1932, as you can see here.)

When I was in my late teens I began to wonder about Margaret Mitchell, the woman behind the book. I read biographies of her. I began to see that an author will often use things from their own life even when they are writing novels. A few years ago PBS did a terrific American Masters program about Mitchell, Margaret Mitchell: American Rebel, and I think you can see the whole thing on the PBS website. It's very well done.

During World War II, Mitchell pitched in and helped with the war effort here in Atlanta. One of my great aunts remembered chatting with "Mrs. Marsh" many times, at bandage rolling events.

Margaret Mitchell was hit by a car and killed right outside the Atlanta Women's Club, where my grandmother was a member. My mother went there many times as a child, and learned to swim in their pool.

Mitchell's grave in Oakland cemetery

 

I remember as a child first reading the book that I loved and admired the character of Scarlet, because she got to wear fancy dresses and go to parties and Rhett loved her. After I had matured a bit, I realized that Scarlett really isn't all that admirable because she lies and schemes to get her way, not caring who she hurts, and she's a rotten mother. What intrigues us about her though is that she is a survivor. She goes through terrible things and she struggles mightily and she endures. I think that's why she will always be a classic character.

Taylor says the letters—many of them excerpted in Young’s documentary—provide insight into the author’s evolution from a spoiled, self-indulgent child of privilege into a driven visionary who accurately predicted Atlanta’s future as a black metropolis and quietly but fiercely fought racial inequities in education and healthcare. - See more at: http://www.atlantamagazine.com/civilrights/friendship-margaret-mitchell-benjamin-mays/#sthash.EGv6LEPp.dpuf

Taylor says the letters—many of them excerpted in Young’s documentary—provide insight into the author’s evolution from a spoiled, self-indulgent child of privilege into a driven visionary who accurately predicted Atlanta’s future as a black metropolis and quietly but fiercely fought racial inequities in education and healthcare. - See more at: http://www.atlantamagazine.com/civilrights/friendship-margaret-mitchell-benjamin-mays/#sthash.EGv6LEPp.dpuf

Taylor says the letters—many of them excerpted in Young’s documentary—provide insight into the author’s evolution from a spoiled, self-indulgent child of privilege into a driven visionary who accurately predicted Atlanta’s future as a black metropolis and quietly but fiercely fought racial inequities in education and healthcare. - See more at: http://www.atlantamagazine.com/civilrights/friendship-margaret-mitchell-benjamin-mays/#sthash.EGv6LEPp.dpuf

Taylor says the letters—many of them excerpted in Young’s documentary—provide insight into the author’s evolution from a spoiled, self-indulgent child of privilege into a driven visionary who accurately predicted Atlanta’s future as a black metropolis and quietly but fiercely fought racial inequities in education and healthcare. - See more at: http://www.atlantamagazine.com/civilrights/friendship-margaret-mitchell-benjamin-mays/#sthash.EGv6LEPp.dpuf

Unlike the North, the south was much more affected by the Civil War. It was everywhere - homes looted, families torn apart, homes burned to the ground. It was personal and real to civilians, not just soldiers. I think a lot of southerners feel a great affinity for the book because it talks about how the Civil War changed all of our lives, forever. I remember Mother telling me when I was a teenager that one reason to be proud of our heritage is that we survived. Despite poverty and devastation and hard struggles after the war, our family survived and eventually we flourished - on both sides of my family.

As a child, we took a lot of trips and my father took us to every Civil War battlefield. He told us the stories of those battles, because he was an avid student of history, particularly the civil war. The battle details were usually rather boring to me but watching how animated my dad was in telling us those stories left a big impression on me. History was not just something dry and boring, in my house, it was something to feel passionate about.

Finally, I remember sitting in a big chair in the living room of my house reading the book and feeling like I was living inside that book. Margaret Mitchell brought that time and place alive in a way that was incredibly vivid and passionate, and despite it's flaws, Gone With the Wind is a classic American novel and it deserves to continue to be read and studied.

Skip the Angst

The hardest part about being a parent, for me anyway, is trying to remember how it felt to be my kids' ages, and then trying to think of comforting or inspirational things to say to them.

I don't recall being really moody at the age of 19 but I probably was, just maybe in a different way than my son. He just informed me that he doesn't want to go to school, or work, or do anything. He says this about once a week, usually when he hasn't eaten in hours, which is when he's most grumpy and unreasonable.

I always want to say - and I sometimes do say - look, eat something and let it digest a bit, and then we can have a reasonable conversation. When I say that, he gets mad. He seems to like to nurse his feelings of anger, like worrying a loose tooth with your tongue until it falls out.

What I've somehow failed to teach him is this: there are going to be many days during your life when you just trudge through the hours, going through the motions, feeling tired and discouraged. Then the sunshine comes out and something happens that makes you happy, and you are glad you kept going. If you fly completely off the track, though, those happy interruptions are not going to come.

His earliest influences were a birthmom who used any excuse to drink. Life seems boring or unfair? Drink a bottle of vodka. Numb yourself to the pain.

I like to think I've shown him differently, that I've shown him how to keep putting one step in front of the other, while the wheel slowly turns. Maybe I have not, though.

If I could get him to sit down and really listen, and more importantly really BELIEVE ME, this is what I would say:

There are going to be many times in your life when it feels like what you're doing is a waste of time. There will be many times when you are tired, or bored, or discouraged, or all of the above. Medicating yourself with alcohol or drugs doesn't help.

Here's the only thing I've learned over the years that really works: grow where you're planted. Learn how to find little signs of hope and encouragement. Ask God to help you through the tough patches.

I never thought I would end up as a caretaker for my mother in her final years. I spend a fair amount of my day catering to Mother and making sure she is dressed, fed, has something to read, is warm enough, etc.

I am also Lola's caretaker. I take her out many times a day.

I am also the caretaker for a moody teenager who gets mad at the drop of a hat.

I have lots of reasons to be moody and want to escape all of it. However, I have learned not to get bogged down by the "what-ifs" or the "I wish" type of thoughts.

I love to write and edit and I am getting lots of chances to do that now. I'm not making a lot of money, but life is infinitely more satisfying to me than when I was working full-time in a law office, with a stressful commute and lots of stress passed down from my bosses. I never felt like I had enough time for anything in those days.

Now I have time to walk outside and feel the fresh air on my skin.

I have time to dream up yummy things to fix for dinner, and then cook them.

I have time to look through old photos and scan them in and share them.

This caretaking phase is simply a part of my life. This time will pass, and I will have to find compensations and blessings to get through the next phase. I have learned to take the long view.

I just wish I could help him skip all the angst and let Michael understand this now...

 

Twenty Questions with Suzy Darrah

Imagine being 6 years old and going to a birthday party where you can’t eat the cake, or the cookies. All the other kids can eat all the goodies. You can’t eat anything because you are allergic to gluten [or dairy] and you don’t want to have to go to the hospital.

Suzy Darrah, of Myrtle Beach SC, mom to two boys, ages 11 and 8, saw that happening at birthday parties not long ago, and decided to do something about it. She started a specialty bakery called Hippienut, making gluten-free and/or dairy-free or sugar-free cakes, cupcakes, muffins, etc. for children and grown folks whose restrictive diets prevent them from enjoying most baked goods.

Suzy was an experienced baker. She had started learning the business when she was a new bride years ago. “I started a baking business called Sweet & Savory and the moms were asking me to make cakes for their kids’ birthdays. Then I was making cakes for restaurants on Pawley’s Island. I was doing well and had a big customer base on Pawley’s Islands.” By that time she knew baking. “When I was pregnant the first time I had just gotten married and I was bored out of my mind and I started working at my friend’s bakery, Crady’s in Conway [now a restaurant]. My mom was a big baker, and I learned a lot at Crady’s from Barbara, my friend’s mother.”

She didn’t start off her professional career as a baker. “I was a coastal geologist. I worked on the Hunley – helped dig it out and get the bones out. I was a scientific diver for a while. I also taught scuba diving.” That life was not conducive to raising kids, however, so she turned to baking.

Before I started my usual Twenty Questions, I wanted to find out more about Suzy and her business. [Full disclosure - I know Suzy because she is the girlfriend of my cousin Michael Hasty.]

How long have you lived in Myrtle Beach? I grew up here. I lived in Marathon for a while. Had a scuba shop and taught diving here. You can’t be on a boat for a week at a time when you have two little ones. My boys are 11 and 8.

What inspired Hippienut? My son had friends who couldn’t eat gluten or dairy and they never had fun snacks. I started fooling around with recipes trying to come up with fun and healthy snacks. I was playing around with recipes for a year and a half. They had a holiday market at The Market Common in November and I was told by a representative that “We need someone like you because you’re all organic, and can do gluten free and dairy free..” I was already really busy and didn’t think I could do it but I didn’t want to lose my spot to another vendor so I said OK.

When did you start the company? Last November 2015. Michael came up with my logo and labels, and he’s great at it. [You can see more of his great design work over at Inkhaus]

We’re still working on the Hippienut website.

Where did you get the name? Michael came up with the name and logo. It was a nickname for a kid we went to high school with. We went to Myrtle Beach high school together, although Michael was a year ahead of me.

How are you selling your products right now?

It’s only been since November we’ve been selling. People are putting in orders on Facebook and emailing me orders. I have weekly orders that go to the Boone Hall Farms market in Mt. Pleasant.

What’s your favorite recipe and why?

There are so many naturally sweet things you can add to make things good. My blueberry oat muffins are very popular and very moist.. I soak my oats in orange juice.

What makes your products different from other gluten-free products? With all my recipes, I like to keep things as natural as possible as far as what goes in – everything in its natural state. All of my ingredients are as natural and unrefined as we can be.

You make gluten-free [or dairy-free] special occasion cakes too?

I do a lot of character cakes, wedding cakes. I’ve done a lot of dairy-free stuff too.

I make my own flour mix. The best one you can buy commercially is Bob’s Red Mill. The flours, a lot of them are just too starchy, and I come up with different combinations.

Twenty Questions

What is your full name?

Suzanne Gail Darrah. That’s my maiden name

Where would you live, if you could live anywhere in the world?

I would probably live on the south end part of the creek in Murrell’s Inlet. I love a creek. I can see the ocean and I can smell the pluff mud.

What is your favorite movie and why?

I’m old school and my favorite movie would be The Private Eyes with Don Knotts and Tim Conway.

What was your least-favorite subject in school when you were a kid?

It was probably English. I love to read. I didn’t like grammar, though, diagramming sentences.

What was your nickname when you were a kid?

Sunshine. Actually people still call me Sunshine.

Do you believe in God?

Actually I don’t believe in God but I don’t talk about it because it makes other people uncomfortable.

What sound or noise do you love?

I love the sound of bubbles underwater. I love to sit underwater and hear the sound of water moving.

If you could do anything other than what you do, as a profession, what would it be?

I would work on a research ship somewhere and be doing scientific diving – what I used to do. It’s just impossible to do that and be a single mom.

If heaven exists, what do you think it is like?

I think there’s energy but I don’t know what it is.

Do you have siblings?

I have two older brothers, one is 8 years older and one is 6 years older. One is a detective and one sells cars.

What is your favorite memory of childhood [something specific]?

I love dinner time. We’d talk about our day. My mom was a stay at home mom and every night we had dinner together. My oldest brother was the funny guy. Every single night one of my brothers would spit milk through his nose, from laughing.

If you had to choose between one week traveling around the USA by car, or one week traveling around Europe on a train, which would you choose and why?

I would probably do the USA by car first. That’s what I want to do the most, only because I love our country and its beauty, and there are so many place I haven’t seen. I love a road trip, not being on a schedule.

What or who inspires you?

That’s a changer for me it’s changed over the years. My kids inspire me every day. I’m a mom and I’m biased but my kids are just amazing. They are smart and kind and hilarious. I love being around them.

Which holiday do you prefer, Christmas or July 4th?

I like Christmas. Everybody’s home and we make stuff and I bake whole lot. I like the feel of Christmas.

What project or idea are you most passionate about, right now? Right now I’m focused on getting the snacks into the backpack buddy program. The Backpack Buddy program is great – stores donate food. There are snacks for kids who may not have food, like on the weekends and school holidays when they can’t get the free school lunches. They get stuff like Doritos and fruit rollups in the backpacks. My goal is to get Hippienut into those backpacks. The kids love them, so far. I want things to taste better to children so they want to eat them. I have another little project I want to do eventually - make cakes for kids in Ronald McDonald houses. You know they can’t have certain foods.

Do you know how to cook? Yes! I know how to bake better than regular cooking. I have to have a recipe for regular [non-baked foods].

What is your favorite thing to cook/eat?

I love to go to a southern cooking buffets and eat things like fried chicken..

If you could go on vacation anywhere in the world, for 2-4 weeks, all expenses paid, where would you go and why?

I would probably go to Micronesia, Pulau, work my way around those islands – see the underwater stuff.

Who do you love the most in the world?

My children. That’s an easy one. My kids are fun. I enjoy hanging out with them!

What question has nobody ever asked you, but you wanted to answer? May I mop your floors and fold your laundry for you today? [that's a question we'd ALL like to hear!]

Words and More Words

February in Georgia can be a really cold month or there can be days where it's in the 60's. It's always so startling to see the bare winter trees and beneath them, daffodils shooting up through the ground. I was walking yesterday and noticing all the daffodils and I thought to myself how much they look like spiky green hands, pushing up through the soil.

I wish I had a better camera so this would look better. One of my friends on Facebook posts a lot of short poems and the images are always wonderful. Maybe one day I can add "meme writer" to my resume but that day isn't here yet.

The second issue of the Blue Mountain Review is now available. I have an article in there on page 103, about my friend David Moore, head of Historic Oakland. Check it out!

 

I was excited to get an e-mail from editor Ingrid Hall about an anthology I contributed to [Our Day of Passing: An Anthology of Short Stories, Poems, and Essays] that's doing very well as an e-book on Amazon.

"Super excited to be able to tell you that Our Day of Passing has hit #1 in the amazon.com bestseller rank for comparative religion and #2 for reincarnation. Let's all have a HUGE push to get it to number #1 for reincarnation too! I have also just checked amazon.co.uk and we are #1 for religious studies over here!"

 

My essay isn't about religion or reincarnation but it's still fascinating to me how this book has been categorized.

 

*************

I am reading a book I first read when I was a teenager, Christy. Wonderful book. When I lived in East Tennessee [1971-93] I was fascinated by the culture of people who lived in the mountains. This book really captures the spirit of those people. Most of them are descended from Scottish immigrants who came to America in the 17th and 18th centuries, which is when some of my ancestors came, so it's fascinating to me.

 

**************

 

I made Mother a pimento cheese sandwich the other day. She left it on her desk in her room, covered up, while she went to the bathroom. Lola grabbed that sandwich and ate it right off the table without making a sound. Lola came in the kitchen a few minutes later and looked up at me, wagging her tail, like "gimme a snack!" Mother hollered at me to come into her room and pointed at the plate on the floor, laughing. I wanted to fuss at her but it was too funny. 

 

She got a cookie off the kitchen table the other night.

 

We forget how LOOOOOONG she is because her little legs are so short. [Lola, not Mother]

 

 

************
Michael is helping a lady move this morning. He was out very late last night, and didn't get much sleep, although I warned him he would be needing a good night's sleep. He has never helped anybody move. I have -- many times. It's exhausting under the best of circumstances. He's being paid [and two of his friends are] to lift furniture and boxes into a truck.

 

I texted him last night and said to come home and get a decent meal and a decent night's sleep. He doesn't listen to me.

 

I vowed when I moved into this house 11 years ago that I'd never move again if I could possibly help it. We lived in 5 different houses in 2 different states when I was a kid, then I lived in 7 different apartments over the years before moving into this house. It took months to consolidate Mother's household stuff and mine and we ended up giving away a lot of things. I purposely didn't give everything away because I was thinking the kids would want things when they got their own places. We have enough pots and pans and dishes to stock 4 kitchens.

 

I actually found a meat thermometer in a drawer that my brother gave us years ago and we had promptly misplaced it. Yes, the kitchen is THAT big.

 

It's hard for me to believe I have lived in the exact same place for 11 years. That's a record, in my life..

 

*******************
It has been a productive week. Got my taxes done, and Michael's, and I'm working on Mother's.

 

Stay warm...

 

Pat Conroy and Me

Yesterday I heard some really sad news. Author Pat Conroy has pancreatic cancer.Last year one of my high school classmates passed away after battling pancreatic cancer. It's hard to detect in the early stages and people typically don't live long after it's diagnosed according to the Mayo Clinic.

I never met Pat Conroy but I almost saw him, years ago. He was scheduled to speak to a group in Knoxville and I talked one of my grad school professors into going with me to hear him speak. We got to the location and learned we had the date wrong and he wouldn't be there for another month. We were very disappointed.

My professor was a cool guy and we were friends so we went out to dinner instead. We were really bummed about not seeing Conroy. [There was some reason we couldn't get to hear Conroy when he finally did get to town, but I don't remember what it was..]

It was 1987 or 1988 and Conroy's book The Prince of Tides had just come out. The professor read parts of it to us in class. We were mesmerized by the beauty of Conroy's words describing the area of the low country where the book is partially set. (I know the area well because I've vacationed in the area my entire life.) Years later when the movie came out I was so disappointed to hear Nick Nolte's dreadfully bad southern accent. Hollywood always screws things up.

Everything I've ever read by Conroy has left me with a great feeling of emptiness and sadness when it was over. I literally feel, every time, like I have been thrust into another world, so rich is his imagery. His books take me out of my life and give me another life.

His life has been something of a mess, though. His parents were abusive. He's been married three times. His sister and his daughter don't speak to him. I think this quote by him is very telling because it speaks to his genius and his misfortune:

"You know, when I started writing, Robin, I told myself this. I was going to tell the truth as I saw it, as I lived it. So, all these stories, you know, that are so painful, but I thought by not trying to at least write about the pain, I was not telling the truth. And if I'm not telling truth, why do I write? And, you know, I think over the years, I've developed a thing with readers that they expect it of me, and I try to oblige. I try to tell as much as the truth as I can get out of myself. You know, it's a pledge I've made to myself, and it's a pledge I've made to the books I write."

It takes guts to tell the truth people don't want to hear, and to risk alienating folks in your own family. The painful truth needs to be told however. It needs light, because only then will it cease to torment us. I have told the truth a few times and gotten burned too. There are people in my extended family who don't speak to me. So be it. I don't lose any sleep over it.

The last thing I want to do here is quote Pat's wonderful book, The Prince of Tides:

"I grew up a river boy with the smell of the great salt marsh predominant in sleep... Nothing pleased me more than the sight of the shrimping fleet moving out before sunrise to rendezvous with the teeming shoals of shrimp that made their swift dashes through the moon-sweetened tides at first light."

Conroy writes prose that often sounds like poetry, and that's an incredible feat. I can write poetry and I can write prose but I cannot marry the two the way he does. It's a marvelous gift. I pray he somehow beats this cancer so he can keep writing for us for a long time..

my copy of Prince of Tides with my dad's inscription to me..

 

POSTSCRIPT of March 5, 2016: I just heard that Pat died last night. The world is a much poorer place today. Heaven, however, has gained a great storyteller.

 

Watching Their Pain

I had to do something an hour ago that I never anticipated having to do. I had to help my son dress for the funeral of one of his friends. I watched him put on black dress pants and a white shirt and a beautiful gray sweater and I thought, how grownup he looks. How handsome.

I wanted to cry.

After he left, I did cry. I felt such anguish at sending Michael off to the funeral. (He was taking two of his friends though, so he didn't go alone.)

No 19 year old should have to go to the funeral of one of his friends because the boy killed himself. It's horrific.

When I was in my early 20's two of my childhood friends killed themselves. They were not close friends of mine but they had been in classes with me in school. We had played together, eaten together, sung songs together, laughed together -- for years. Then they grew up and had to deal with heartache and they found life so unbearable that they ended it.

I remember well the absolute horror and sadness I felt for them. My friend "L" had made a bad marriage and had a toddler she was trying to raise alone. She shot herself, after taking the baby to her parents' house. My friend "J" and I danced at a wedding of a friend, laughing and reminiscing, and just a few years later, unable to find a job, he put himself in the path of a train. The only way I could deal with it was to write about it, and my poem "The Lost Boy and the Train" was published in the UT literary magazine.

I have had dark times in my life, times when life was really awful. I have never come close to feeling such despair that I couldn't see my way out of it, though. I was blessed to be born to parents who had strong faith in God, and incredible love for me. When things get dark in my life I can always talk to my mom. Always. She raised me to come talk to her when I was upset.

Watching Michael grieve for his friend since he heard the news last Sunday has been a special kind of hell. As parents we always want to spare our children from shock and grief. We want to shelter them. Watching them in pain is worse than feeling it ourselves.

Michael has been through so much in his young life, from the loss of his birth family and culture to the loss of his hand. He lost an older brother to suicide. Alesia chooses to stay away from our family and he hasn't talked to her in many months, so she is essentially lost to him. SO many losses in such a short time.

I told Michael today, gently, that his friend should have seen a counselor to help him deal with his feelings before things got so bad he thought suicide was the only way out. Michael said "We didn't know how he felt. None of us knew! He never talked about his feelings." I said softly "Well that's why it is SO IMPORTANT to talk about your feelings, not bottle them up." I wasn't trying to be confrontational, just trying to get Michael to think.

A few days ago I gave Michael a composition book and a new pen and urged him to write about his feelings. I cannot afford to take him to a counselor right now. He hasn't opened the book.

I'm praying for him, praying for his friends, praying for the family of the boy who died.

Michael has been talking to his friends a lot. That helps. He doesn't want to talk to me.

I like the quote above because it's an apt metaphor. If we let the awful stuff out there in the world get inside of us, we will sink. We have to bail out those feelings. We have to unload them, because only then will they seem less enormous.

I unload by writing, talking to my mom, sometimes talking to friends. I pray. It all helps.

I just wish schools and churches did a better job of helping teenagers find ways to cope with their feelings, so tragedies like this can be avoided.

[FYI - Mike's friend who died has a Go Fund Me page if you'd like to contribute to the funeral expenses.]

Freezing Outside

I took Lola to walk this morning and it was snowing. If you look closely you can see snow on her coat in the photo above. It flurried, off and on, all day. Pretty to look at but way too cold, even for me. This is supposed to be Hot-Lanta. I can live with the heat. I'm used to it. Hate this bitter cold and wind, though.

Of course, the ground was so warm there was no way that snow would stick. We have daffodils up in the front yard, and camellias blooming. Always seems weird to see blooming flowers in the snow. Then again, last week we didn't need coats. 

When my brother asked me what I wanted for Christmas a few months ago, I said BIRDHOUSES. Four of them. He got me four lovely cedar birdhouses. I was walking Lola last fall and one of my neighbors had put two of these tall green plant stands out for the garbage and I took them both. I knew I wanted to hang birdhouses on them. We love to feed birds but unfortunately since there's a creek behind the house, huge rats come up and eat all the bird food literally right out of the feeders. It's horrifying. So we can't really feed birds. So the houses are what we can do. We have a couple of older birdhouses in the yard and every year there are baby birds living in the houses, which is awesome. [BTW, the firepit in the photo is only there temporarily]

The last few days have been tumultuous.

Sunday night I killed a palmetto bug in my room, much to my horror. I HATE those things. Huge roaches. UGH. The exterminator guy is coming out Thursday. I had a hard time sleeping Sunday night because the dang bug was just a couple of feet from my bed when I killed it.

Michael learned some very sad news Sunday, late morning. One of his buddies shot himself. Michael was SO upset. This boy was a good friend. Not a super close friend, but a good friend. I talked really hard to Michael about going on to work, because it was Superbowl Sunday and he works at a sports bar. So he went on in to work and was there from 3-11, on his feet, which is a long shift for him, as a host. Michael is not dealing with it as well as I would like to see, but he's dealing. I suggested he journal his feelings, and put a blank notebook and pen on his bed. He is just staying gone all the time, hanging out with his buddies. He didn't get in until very late last night. I cannot get him to understand that I sleep very badly when he stays out so late.

I made a blueberry cobbler yesterday and Michael has eaten most of it, which is fine. He goes for hours without eating, then tends to eat junk food. Blueberries are pretty nutritious, compared to most of the junk food he likes. I just worry about him not eating right. We have healthful food in the house, but it's hard to get him to eat it. He's rarely here for dinner any more.

Today is Shrove Tuesday and Mom and I had pancakes and sausage. Very yummy. Totally off the diet. Ate some carrots later in the evening because I actually missed having a vegetable!

I have not decided what, if anything, I will do for Lent. You don't have to only give up something. You can also take on something, like an additional obligation - working extra hours, doing something for a neighbor, etc. It's supposed to be a time of reflection. If the weather were better I would try to do some major garage cleaning, but it's too cold right now.

I was hoping Mike would come home for dinner, and strongly suggested it, but he's off with his buddies. He will probably not get in until late and then he will just demolish the rest of the cobbler.

That's all I know to report. Stay warm!

Twenty Questions With Renee Richards

I’ve wanted to interview Renee for a long time and I was delighted the other day when she said she would acquiesce to my request. She is undoubtedly the most interesting person I have ever met.

She is also a healer, and a very spiritual person. As she explains, “I work with  the master Sananda the Christ, some may call him Jesus. I am deeply spiritual.  I do energy and prayer work every day.  I believe in Angels, and ascended masters help us on our journey.” 

I don’t recall exactly how I met Renee but she was a contributor to the anthology The Divinity of Dogs: True Stories of Miracles Inspired by Man's Best Friend, and I have an essay in there too. I usually like “dog” people, and I quickly became intrigued by Renee’s profession. She is a psychic medium. She has done a couple of readings for me which were very accurate.

You’re probably wondering what in the heck a psychic medium actually does.

From her website: “During a reading, Renee connects with your Energy and higher self to deliver a reading that spiritually will touch you in many ways. She also connects with loved ones that have crossed over for messages of love and healing. Renee provides knowledge and compassion to each individual circumstance. She not only gives you information, but allows you to see all the possible ways you can direct the outcome of your life. The tools she provides empower you with the confidence to make informed decisions about your future.”

Renee became aware of her gifts at a young age, growing up in a chaotic and sometimes abusive household. As she explains, “I have always been this way.  When I was young I used to shudder at night because I could hear voices and talking, figures moving around.  When the lights would go out a whole new world emerged, not being distracted by the everyday things in the world, at night it was quiet, and it came alive, everything was moving, and breathing. So when I would run around the neighborhood talking about the movie's in the sky, and the color TV we had (which in reality was black and white) my parents were just stymied, and I can't blame them this was something they had never dealt with.”

She does readings but they don’t take up the majority of her time. “I am so busy I just do three readings a week. I need balance. I also see spirits and angels and colors and it is fantastic and I want to have time to experience those things. I also mentor others and that takes up time.” She sees other psychic mediums as colleagues, and is generous about sharing her time and wisdom with them. “I really do try to support and promote everyone.”

She is also a writer and storyteller. “I am writing a book, too, a memoir about my life. My father was very abusive and I grew up with violence and there was a distinct change in me, making a decision as to how to live my life. It’s in my words, about me working through everything that happened. I want to write about things but the hard thing is revisiting everything. I am going to go into the deep spirituality of it, and the connecting.”

On Friday nights, Renee does a radio show on Blog Talk Radio and it’s a fascinating experience to listen to her. Her show starts at 5 Pacific and 8 Eastern time. If you call in advance you might get a free reading.

Without further ado, I present to you my friend Renee Richards.

What is your full name?

Renee Ellen Gutzmann. I didn’t want to give up my name. Richards is not the name of my husband, although it's what I use. It’s a family name.

Where would you live, if you could live anywhere in the world?

In California, up in Northern California, on the coast. I lived there before and I loved it. Very secluded. Very dramatic. I miss it so much.

What is your favorite movie and why?

Probably What the #$*! Do We Know!? You could watch that a million different times and you would get something different from it each time.

What was your least-favorite subject in school when you were a kid?

Math. My mind does not work well with math. I love numerology. I can do math. I even did nursing math. I was a medical assistant at one time in a doctor’s office, and I worked in nursing homes for ten years.

What was your nickname when you were a kid?

“NayNay” – short for Renee

Do you believe in God?

Yes. I believe in God as a consciousness that permeates everything and is inside of us. It’s part of universal energy, yes.

What sound or noise do you love?

No noise, quiet. I love extreme quiet or maybe the wind blowing through the trees, but that’s it. I feel more at peace, connected to spirit when it’s really really quiet. We live out in the country. When it’s quiet I hear angels singing, the hum of the earth – it’s a beautiful experience.

If you could do anything other than what you do, as a profession, what would it be?

At this time of my life, I would probably be a death doula, who helps people when they are going to die. That calls to me every now and then.

If heaven exists, what do you think it is like?

Even though I use the word “heaven” I can’t say heaven covers it. There are so many dimensions. I would call it the higher astral plane – so in essence it does exist, in some form.

Do you have siblings?

I have one sister – I love her like she’s my child. She’s 12 years younger.

What is your favorite memory of childhood [something specific]?

One of the best memories I ever had was when I was coming home from school and my mom was going to have the baby and I saw my stepdad getting into the car and said what did she have? He said she had a girl. I was so excited to have a sister. One of the best moments of my life.

If you had to choose between one week traveling around the USA by car, or one week traveling around Europe on a train, which would you choose and why?

I would choose Europe on the train. I think that would be more interesting. I haven’t been to Europe.

What inspires you?

The Christ consciousness or some call it Jesus. That energy inspires me every day.

Which holiday do you prefer, Christmas or July 4th?

None. Not a holiday person.

What project or idea are you most passionate about, right now?

Probably my book, getting that book out.

Do you know how to cook?

Yeah. I like to cook. I enjoy it. I make a lot of natural stuff. I try to be very vegetarian. I cook a lot of soups and sauces. I don’t eat meat because of my stance against animal cruelty. I will eat meat once in a while, though, at somebody’s house, if that’s what they are serving.

What is your favorite thing to cook/eat?

I love protein shakes – kale, spinach, blueberries. I crave that stuff. For me, that’s a big treat.

If you could go on vacation anywhere in the world, for 2-4 weeks, all expenses paid, where would you go and why?

A place in Peru, Machu Picchu. That’s where I would love to go. I use the picture of the ruins for energy work, the vibration is so powerful.

Who do you love the most in the world?

Myself. It may sound weird. If you don’t love and forgive yourself, you don’t have anything left to give to others.

What question has nobody ever asked you, but you wanted to answer?

I have no idea.

How to Start a Short Story

I love to write and I like to always be working on a writing project but the past couple of weeks have been nerve-wracking because I've had no particular creative project going. I need to start writing short stories, for several reasons. One, it’s good training as a writer. Two, there’s a great market for short stories that are well written. I can actually get paid for a decent short story. I’ve never really been good at writing short stories, though. I can count on one hand the number of short fictional stories I’ve written in the past 30 or so years and none are publishable.

The last time I tried writing a short story it turned into a novel, which I am still working on, or more accurately, waiting for feedback from several folks so I can start revisions. After I write a first draft I have to put it away so I can go back a few weeks or months later and see it with fresh eyes. Otherwise I'm too close to it and I can't be objective.

One way to get excited about working on a writing project is to start with what’s called a writing prompt. In other words, do something to spark the old imagination and get the fingers flying over the keyboard. So I decided to brainstorm a little bit and post ten sentences here and get y’all to vote for which ones you find most interesting. In other words, if you saw a story that started with this sentence, you’d be intrigued enough to want to read the story.

A good first sentence makes the reader excited about reading more. Stephen King famously described it this way: “An opening line should invite the reader to begin the story,” he said. “It should say: Listen. Come in here. You want to know about this.”

So here are my efforts. Please weigh in:

• “Gail awoke on the floor by the fridge, with the certain knowledge that today, unlike every day for the past fifteen years, would be the first day of a new beginning in her life – a terrifying thought.”
• “I never saw it coming, the bright blue electric car that hurtled out of nowhere and ran over my foot.”
• “Ann should have listened to that little voice in her head that said quite clearly, as soon as she saw him, he’s not the one, but of course she dismissed it.”
• “Elaine’s friends and neighbors thought she was elegant and tasteful and her home was right out of a magazine but if they had known the truth about her kitchen they would have called the police immediately.”
• “Sandy had watched the sad parade of employees cleaning out their offices for months and said many prayers for everyone, but when the word came down that she should clean out her cubicle she could only stand there stupidly thinking this must be a dream and I need to wake up now, please.”
• “After the audition, Bella looked at all the other hopefuls sitting in the old theater seats and thought, it’s always the same, I should get that role but it will go to whoever is tallest and has the biggest rack.”
• “I love my son but there needs to be a medication invented so kids can skip the teenage years and just go straight from adolescent to person who has a fully functional brain.”
• “The possum chewed on a cantaloupe rind with pleasure so deep he didn’t notice, across the yard, the hound dog who was streaking across the patio, hell-bent on biting his butt.”
• “Angela noticed the light first, the light auras around everyone, all colors of the rainbow, shimmering with an unearthly glow.”
• “Danny should have known the will would be where his uncle had left it, wrapped around a bottle of Crown Royal, sitting inside his gym bag beneath his smelly socks and right on top of a loaded .38 pistol.”

Pregnancy and Drinking

The CDC has released a statement which all women of childbearing age need to read carefully: More than 3 million US women at risk for alcohol-exposed pregnancy.

Most birth defects are not preventable. They just happen. Fetal alcohol brain damage is the ONLY 100% preventable birth defect.

"Alcohol use during pregnancy, even within the first few weeks and before a woman knows she is pregnant, can cause lasting physical, behavioral, and intellectual disabilities that can last for a child’s lifetime. These disabilities are known as fetal alcohol spectrum disorders (FASDs). There is no known safe amount of alcohol – even beer or wine – that is safe for a woman to drink at any stage of pregnancy."

What the CDC left out, which I think is important, is an explanation of what FASDs look like. I used to think FASDs meant a child who was simply like Forrest Gump, or had an even lower IQ than that. Since I became an adoptive parent I have commiserated with other adoptive parents -- especially those of children from Eastern Europe -- who see a range of behaviors.

My daughter has normal intelligence, and in some ways is quite smart. I thought for years she didn't have FASD even though I knew her teenaged birthmom was an alcoholic. However, once my daughter became a teenager I realized something quite devastating.

She has a lot of difficulty comprehending cause and effect.

She often cannot remember simple information from one day to the next.

You may think those two things are no big deal but they are HUGE. For instance, if you don't understand cause and effect, you don't remember that using birth control prevents pregnancy. You don't remember that drugs can cause overdoses.

She also has what is called "swiss cheese memory." One day she may know her multiplication tables. The next day she may not. I remember years ago watching her struggle to remember a dance routine she had practiced in class hundreds of times over a period of months. It hurt my heart to see her struggle because she was actually a very good dancer.

I have friends whose children cannot remember to take a shower or brush their teeth every day.

Kids with FAS often break things. My friend Stephanie calls her house "chaos manor" because something is broken there every.single.day.

Adoptive parents often come to understand FAS very well and it breaks our hearts to see our beloved children struggle. Read Stephanie's blog or my friend Cindy LaJoy's blog.

Most tragically, some of our daughters with mild FAS do not understand that 1) they have brain damage; and 2) they must NOT drink alcohol. So I have friends whose daughters get pregnant out of wedlock and do idiotic things like play beer pong, despite carrying a developing fetus. So the child will have the same struggles as the mother, or possibly worse.

It's mentally exhausting trying to raise one of these kids. This is from my friend Cindy LaJoy, about her son Kenny:

"As tired as I am, I can't begin to imagine how tired he is...of never hearing a single thing correctly, of never being able to get directions correct and act on them, of always losing every single thing, of seeing siblings succeed and move gradually into adulthood and talk about things he will never be able to do, of having to choke down and swallow a future that will never look "normal" and try and find meaning and worth in a life that has SO MUCH DEPTH and yet so much that doesn't work right."

So young women, you need to THINK about this. You need to understand how important it is to not even have one beer or one glass of wine if you even THINK you might be pregnant. You are dooming your child to a very tough future. If you DO have a child with FASD it will take a while to figure it out, and then you won't have much help. You cannot get an IEP or a 504 plan for your child based on FASD. You will have an uphill battle to try and get social security disability for the child. Trying to raise that child will mean so much sacrifice. You may lose your boyfriend or your marriage. You may never be able to have a normal social life again.

Worst of all, your child will never be able to meet their full potential in life.

THINK before you DRINK.