The Crab Chronicles

Never Give Up

Many years ago, after I adopted my daughter from Russia in 2004, I knew I wanted to adopt another Russian-speaking child. She needed a sibling. I wanted to give a child with some sort of special need a home. I pored over photos on websites of adoption agencies looking for a child. I wanted to adopt them all, and it made choosing so difficult. Finally, I just asked God to send me a sign. The next photo I saw was a scowling little boy who happened to have been born the same month my father died. I took that as a sign.

In 2007, my son finally came home, to a granny, sister, and mama who were absolutely thrilled to see him.

He is now 26 years old, and after some challenges, he is in a really good place in his life.

He is working as a cook in a very nice restaurant here in Atlanta, Kindred. He loves his job and the people there. It's a very busy place but he works hard and they have a lot of happy customers.

I interviewed Michael the other day and you can see that here: The Cook W ith the Mighty Left Arm. Michael was a bit reluctant to do the interview but I pointed out that a lot of people don't realize that having one hand is no big deal.

The article includes a video and you can see Michael preparing shrimp and grits, a popular dish at the restaurant.

Never let a disability define you.

 

#amputeeawareness, #amputeeemployment, #disabilityawareness,

Words of Praise

I am in Deep Writing Mode, and it's hard to describe to someone who isn't a writer. It's a state of perfect happiness and profound weirdness. I am filled with impatience when I am not at the computer. I find myself turning off the TV or putting down a book I'm reading and just staring into space for a while, thinking.

You see, when I write, my characters come alive. It's like they are trying to get my attention so I can tell their stories, which is what I want to do, in the best way possible.

Ten years ago I wanted to write novels but I feared I would never have the talent or the patience to even finish a novel, about anything. All I had ever written were a ton of poems and maybe three short stories, plus a few screenplays that stank.

Poetry is easier because nobody expects a poem to make sense. Most poems can be read in under 5 minutes. In contrast, most novels are 60-90,000 words and take a few hours to read.

I wrote my first novel about 5 years ago. I was so thrilled when I finished it and typed The End. I immediately e-mailed it to everyone I knew. Only much later did I cringe, thinking how bad it was and how all my friends and relatives who tried to read it must have been appalled by how bad it was. 

Oh well.

I've read a lot of books by famous writers about how to write. For me, about 90% of their advice was useless. I am not going to spend years studying Greek and Roman classical texts, and I am not going to get up at 4 a.m. and start writing, or blast ear-splitting heavy metal while I write. I even took one of those online Master Classes where I watched famous writers on videos talking about how to write. Only one of those writers told me anything worth remembering, Dan Brown. I loved The DaVinci Code, but I've not liked any of his other books half as much. I hated The Lost Symbol because it had some unkind things to say about freemasonry, and since my father and both grandfathers were masons, I got ticked.

The only way to really learn how to write fiction is to just write. Every writer has to figure out for themself what works and what doesn't. You can take classes and read books and go to writer's groups with boundless dedication and enthusiasm, but in the end, you just have to sit and write.

The good thing about my first novel is that it was bad. I was forced to re-read it and cringe and that was really great because I could see where I had gone wrong. If it had been awesome I wouldn't have learned anything.

With my most recent novel, Return to Marietta, I have had a number of people -- some of them not even my friends or relatives -- reach out and tell me how much they enjoyed reading it. That was very encouraging. See below for some random comments by different folks.

"I just finished Return to Marietta. It was wonderful! I can't stress enough just how good this book was. I wish you would consider making it a little series, I know you could get at least 3 books out of it following the family in today's world. If you don't do that, keep writing, don't ever quit! love, love, loved the book!"

"This book has it all! I laughed aloud, cried, prayed, was touched, angered, terrified, and ecstatic. It is AWESOME."

"I thoroughly enjoyed “Return to Marietta.” I loved that the story was based on your grandparents."

Some folks may think it's childish and immature to post words of praise like that but so be it. I sit alone in my room for hours every day and write, and getting feedback is so important to my mental health. Even constructive criticism is fine, as long as the person isn't just a jerk about it. My BFF since infancy, Joanne, is brilliant at reading my manuscripts and pointing out the flaws without being mean. I always take her advice to heart, and I usually follow it.

If you love to read, I urge you to go to the author's website and contact them and let them know how much you like their work. It will mean a lot to the author, even if they are famous.

left, the cover of the hardback book

 

right, my grandparents on their wedding day in 1923

Echoes from the Past

There is something profoundly moving to me to see photos like the ones below. I look at the faces and I search for things like my chin, my father's curly hair, my mother's nose, my brother's mouth. I study their faces, and even their lives, with utter fascination.

I have cousins who literally have no interest in knowing anything about their ancestors, and I find that completely puzzling. How do you know who you are, if you know nothing about those who came before you? I truly believe that the DNA we all carry in our bodies contains not only genetic materials, but memories. How else to explain my father's severe claustrophobia that he hid from his children until the day he died?

How else to explain the wisdom passed down from mother to daughter, to granddaughter? "Let the man think he's the head of the household while you do what you want. If he thinks it's his idea but it's not, so what?!"

[those are only two examples of many]

I wonder why great grandmother Ginnie Hasty lost one of her twins, but one survived, and how did she feel about that? I think she gave birth to 11 or 12 children but only 8 lived to adulthood. How incredibly sad. Things we don't have to deal with any more like diphtheria and whooping cough and measles actually killed children 120 years ago. (Maybe that's why I could never let my children opt out of vaccinations. Too risky.)

Sometimes I will see an image or a view and I will shiver as though someone is walking on my grave, as the saying goes. I feel a deep sense of connection to the image even when it's [oftentimes] a place I've never been before. My mother and I used to just gaze in awe at the Smoky Mountains when we rode around East Tennessee when I was a kid. Many of our ancestors came from the Scottish Highlands. When I was in England years ago, riding on a bus touring the utterly gorgeous English countryside, I got this sudden wash of sadness and this thought popped into my head: how could they have left all this beauty? How bad must life have been for my ancestors to get on a ship and endure weeks or months of hardship to arrive in America, a place filled with disease and danger in the 18th century. How badly did they want to get away, make a new start?

My ancestors lived in conditions that most people today cannot really fathom. I can't imagine not having an indoor bathroom, or running water, or access to an education. I cannot imagine not going to the library every week as a child and getting all kinds of colorfully illustrated books. When my grandparents were children books were still rare and precious. Ironically, some of my happiest memories are of my grandparents reading to me. 

I think traits like determination and courage and love of music and artistic talents can all be passed down through the generations, just like hair color and eye color. My forebears were smart, hardworking, and moral people. They persevered in the face of some incredible hardships.

Their greatest talent they passed down to me? The ability to love. That has to be consciously passed along to the succeeding generations. It isn't automatic, like the fight or flight response. My parents were flawed and they made mistakes (like all parents) but one thing they got right was they showed us how to be loving and how to accept love. It shouldn't be taken for granted. My children lived in orphanages before coming to live with me and I had to teach them how to be loving. It was easy because they needed love, and they absorbed it so quickly, and returned it so easily. Because my parents were so good at it, my children blossomed beautifully under the loving care of me, my mother, and my brother. So even though my children aren't connected to my ancestors by blood, they are connected by love.

As long as I have breath in my body I will long to know more about my ancestors.

photo below, the only photo I have of my great grandparents on Dad's side, James and Martha Henderson. James had red hair and my hair is auburn, just FYI. The shorter lady behind the little girl is my grandmother Cordelia. The little girl on the far right is Virginia and her granddaughter is one of my dearest friends today.

bottom photo, my grandfather Bob Hasty and his family

top photo, my grandmother Wilma Butler Hasty and her sisters

 

Count Blessings

I asked my mother once how she was able to get to sleep when it was a tough night and it seemed like insomnia was going to win. She didn't have to think about it a long time. She said "I review, in my mind, all my happy memories. I go through each one, and relive the happiness." I asked her if any of those memories involved me, and she smiled. "Many of my memories include my children." That made me feel good.

I have had a difficult life in some ways and I've led a charmed life in some ways. When I get down, I try to remember the many times in my life when people have gone out of their way to be nice, and I try to focus on those memories and let go of the ones where people chose to be mean to me.

When I was ten years old we went to our cabin at Douglas Lake for the weekend. I felt like it was a really special birthday. I was a decade old! I was very impressed with myself. I had some gifts to open, but no cake. My mother usually bought us a Baskin Robbins ice cream cake for birthdays, which was a big treat, or she made a cake. That year she hadn't gotten it done. However, that was a really hard summer for Mom because just about 5 weeks before my birthday Mom's father, Papa Hasty, had died. Mother was devastated. Some days she didn't get out of bed until right before Dad came home because she was so depressed. So it should not have come as a surprise that she just forgot to get me a cake or take the ingredients to the lake to make me a cake. (The little fishing cabin was not air-conditioned so cooking a lot was a sweaty business.) I remember seeing the neighbor's wife outside that morning and telling her it was my birthday. Her name was IvaLee. I told her that my Mom forgot my cake, and how upset I was. Late that afternoon IvaLee walked over to our cabin with a homemade cake, with candles and everything, and we all had birthday cake. That sweet lady knew about Mom's grief and decided to help out. I have never forgotten that. 

Skip ahead to 2004, and my adoption of my daughter from Russia. I was supposed to get home on a Friday in early December but I had bronchitis and I came home a couple of days early, miserably sick. I had to try and find someone to go to the airport on a Wednesday night around 9 and pick up me, my daughter, and a lot of luggage. I was exhausted about a 10 hour flight from Moscow. I had no cash for a taxi. I had emailed my friend Maria from Moscow, not knowing if it got through and asked if she could pick us up. She was a single mom too, and it was a school night. Nonetheless, she showed up at the airport with her son and got us and all our luggage. She took us out to dinner at Waffle House. Alesia could see photos of food and just point at what she wanted. Maria and her son were very welcoming, and after our late dinner they took us home and helped get all that luggage up the stairs, which was quite a chore. I was so exhausted I went to bed and slept for 12 hours without moving. Maria and her son were a godsend.

In 2015 I was trying to establish a freelance writing career. I had been blogging since 2005 but there weren't many articles on the internet with my name on them. My fri end David Moore who was then head of the Historic Oakland Foundation, let me interview him for the Blue Mountain Review. [You can see the issue here, but you need to go to page 103] Oakland Cemetery is a public park and a wonderful time capsule of Atlanta history. David and I drove all over the grounds on a golf cart and David told me many fascinating stories about the folks buried there, including golfer Bobby Jones and author Margaret Mitchell. A week or so later I sent my son Michael down to take photos and David took Michael all around so he could make photos for my article.  I was so delighted with how the article turned out, and it was so kind of David to take the time to take both me and my son all over that huge cemetery. I will always be thankful to him for that.

My friend Dana took a day off of work in 2001 and took me to have my wisdom teeth removed, then drove me home and stayed with me until my brother could get there. That was undoubtedly a very boring day for her, but I was so thankful for her help.

I am not a rich person but I am rich in having wonderful friends.

When I was a caretaker for my mom from about 2015 to 2020 there were many times when my friends Bronwyn and Lesleigh came to my rescue. When I had my hysterectomy in 2013, Lesleigh spent the night with me at the hospital. On other occasions, she spent the night with my mom at the hospital, so I could be with my kids. My beautiful friend Bronwyn came many times and stayed with Elva for me so I could have a break.

Next time you are feeling down, remember the many times in your life that you have been blessed by kindnesses from others.

How to Get A Good Night's Sleep

For most of my adult life I had to battle insomnia. Then I discovered Melatonin. Now, when friends post on Facebook about sleep issues I advise them to at least try Melatonin. I started researching it in 1995, back in the dark ages before the internet. I actually went to the library! Then I went to Oxford Books here in Atlanta and bought an entire book about Melatonin. I didn't find anything disturbing, so I started taking it.

I have now been taking it for 27 years, and it's a miracle drug, for me. Except it's not a drug, it's herbal.

Now, the good thing is that it's not a sedative, so if the house catches on fire you will most likely get out on time. (I only say "most likely" because I have not actually faced that scenario.) When I was a caretaker for my mom, from about 2012-2020, if Mom called out for me in the night I would hear her and go help her. Melatonin also doesn't have the terrible side effects of Ambien -- no shopping online in the middle of the night, no sleepwalking, no late night crazy calls. Ambien is pure evil, IMHO. It's caused bankruptcies and terrible car crashes. It should be banned.

Sorry, didn't mean to meander off down a side rant road there...

Anyway, over the years, even with taking Melatonin, I don't always have an easy time falling asleep, so I wanted to offer some other suggestions.

The best advice I can offer it to get a routine going, and stick to it. The routine signals your body that hey, we're getting ready to go to sleep now. For me, I put on my gown, sit in front of the computer and check messages, and listen to at least a couple of mellow songs. Nothing lively or up tempo. I take my Melatonin, 5 mg. It takes about 30 minutes to work. After 30 minutes I shut off the computer and brush my teeth and tinkle. Then I get into bed.

Once in bed, I close my eyes and go through my mental checklist. I pray for the health and safety of my children and my friends and loved ones. I ask God to let me have a good day tomorrow. Sometimes I add special prayers for friends or acquaintances. Next, I start a self-hypnosis process. I mentally picture myself in a beautiful home, my dream home, and I go through each room arranging furniture and decorating. Usually I fall asleep within a few minutes. You can choose any mental task that's pleasant. When I was in my 20's and 30's I mentally planned my wedding. You could mentally plan a party, or build a sandcastle, or eat a piece of cake -- whatever task is pleasurable for you.

Conscious breathing also helps. I concentrate on breathing in slowly through my nose and slowly exhaling through my mouth. I try to block out all distraction and focus on breathing. It also helps when I am tense or anxious.

MORE TIPS

Make sure that you don't read, eat, or watch TV in bed. Use it only for sleeping. 

When you are ready to sleep, make sure the room is very dark. 

Go to bed at the same time every night. 

Turn off your phone!

Don't workout or exercise within 3 hours of going to sleep.

Skip taking naps!

If you eat dinner early and go to bed late, an empty stomach can sometimes keep you from sleeping. Eat a little snack before bed.

Don't drink alcohol less than an hour before bed because it interferes with your sleep cycle.

If you drink a lot of sodas [Coke, Dr. Pepper, etc.] they have caffeine and that may be what's keeping you awake.

For years, my routine included taking off my makeup and taking out my contacts. I couldn't sleep if I felt dirty.

Try to not get into arguments or do stressful things like balance your checking account right before bed. Try to wind things down mentally, and relax. The more relaxed you are, the easier it is to sleep.

If none of my techniques work, try a small amount of Melatonin. I only buy it from GNC, not the cheap brands. I order it off Amazon. Start with 2 or 3 mg. at first. Some people also find good results with Valerian, but it gave me a headache.

Good luck with good sleep!

#sleeptips, #dealingwithinsomnia, #sleepissues, #howtofallasleepfaster, #melatoninbenefits

Google Gets It Wrong

Fasten your seatbelts -- it's time for a rant. Rarely do I let news items make me really angry but when blatant misrepresentations abound I tend to get upset.

Every morning I peruse the stories on Yahoo.com and I then check my Yahoo email. This morning I was totally puzzled to see:

Naomi Judd Cut Daughters Ashley & Wynonna Out Of $25M Will [LINK]

"Singer Naomi Judd cut her daughters Ashley Judd and Wynonna Judd out of her $25 million dollar will.

Earlier this year, the country music community was shocked and saddened to hear that Naomi had lost her long battle with mental illness and taken her own life at age 76.

In a surprising decision, Naomi left her estate and her fortune, which is reported to be around $25 million dollars, to her husband, Larry Strickland, who she married in May 1989.

The Blast was able to confirm the existence of the court document, which states, “I nominate and appoint my spouse, Larry Strickland, as Executor of my estate.”

The document continues, “In the event my spouse ceases or fails to serve, then I nominate and appoint my brother-in-law, Reginald Strickland, and Daniel Kris Wiatr as Co-Executors. I direct that no bond shall be required of my Executor.”

As Page Six reported, the document did not state if either of Naomi's two daughters were named as beneficiaries of any of her assets."

 

The people at Yahoo and The Blast and Page 6 are obviously idiots. So is the LA Times! They published the same misleading story.

This article is fundamentally ignorant. Every estate has to have an executor. The executor doesn't get to decide who inherits. The executor has to make sure the estate is settled properly, that's all. The executor has to abide by the Will. This says nothing about who inherits according to the actual Will of Naomi Judd. The fact that this article got published when it is utterly misleading really ticks me off -- AND a bunch of other publications have re-run the basic facts of the story showing they are idiots as well.

I know about executors because when my father died in 1996 he specified my mother was to be the executor.

Folks, any journalist work a nickel should have done 5 minutes of research and they would have realized this story is completely ridiculous.

"An executor (also called a “personal representative” in some states) is a person named in a will to carry out the wishes of the deceased person. An executor typically offers the will for probate, takes action to protect the assets of the estate, makes distributions of property to beneficiaries and pays the debts and taxes of the estate."[Source: Forbes]

What's worse, I googled the basic facts and saw that now Google is treating the story as factual.

Kids THIS IS WHY DOING RESEARCH USING GOOGLE alone is risky! Consider the sources. Never use only one source. Look at other stories printed by the source.

#googleuntrustworthy, #googlemisleading, #googlegetsitwrong