I have not been abducted by aliens!

As time goes by is one of my favorite British sitcoms, but in this context I am talking about life and the passage of time. It has become a time, in my life, where I am caring for an ill, and elderly mother.

She complains that the roles are reversed. She loves to instruct and she does not like playing the child to me, the mother. This is a role that is made even more difficult by the fact that she is OC.

It literally, took me sixty years to realize she was OC, because it was a normal state of my growing up. I thought every household balanced like ornaments when hanging them on the tree. Surely every one's mother cut up bits of papers in perfectly straight squares.

I was the weak one, who cannot cut a straight to save her life. Who finds it disturbing to have perfectly balanced anything on the mantle or coffee table. Don't ever look in my corners and expect perfect cleanliness either.

Caring for a mother who is in stage four heart failure and who has a tube in her gallbaldder can be very time consuming. I am fortunate to have a very understanding and supportive husband, who is often more patient than I am.

My mother, who has done more than I could even detail here for me, is worth every minute of that time, but I do miss being able to dedicate my time to my artwork. But, not to marketing it.

I have a website but find I am not updating it. So, I have decided to drop my website and use blogs instead, to both market my book and artwork.

This blog is already entitled my working title, "Moon Tree Brothers." This blog will remain a place to discuss writing and give you hints of my book.

With that said, I do so hope, I can take the time every couple of days to give you snippets of Moon Tree Brothers. Throw in descriptions, drawings, anything that you might find fun, without endangering my publishing possibilities.

So, a happy holidays to everyone from the gang in the Moon tree, who have come from all over the world to fight the Darkness together. My you have peace, joy and love in your hearts for life.

Help from a Stuffed Bear

I am drawing up a loose outline for each of the other books in my proposed five book series and I keep going back to the thought that something is missing from Book one. This is stalling progress, as I just cannot get my head around what is missing.

In the beginning, my family was a big part of my original idea and we did a lot of brainstorming. Okay, it was not exactly “a lot” of brainstorming. There was a week or so of that and then they lost interest, but they were always willing to answer my questions and give input, as they passed by. Teenage boys, who are now learning what it is like to have a normal life, are busy. We took these guys from their mother three years ago, due to extreme abuse and they have a lot of catching up to do.

So, lately, I have kept my book pretty close to me, but yesterday I just had to talk it out. My husband is disabled; he has been on disability for over eighteen years now and spends a lot of time sitting. He is quiet when I am writing on my book as this is an important occupation for me, but he is there, if I need him.

I had come in from watering the garden and doing some yelling (I don’t do it a lot but as things get tighter and tighter and break and can’t be fixed, it is happening more.). I was angry because we have water leaks everywhere, inside and out, and they are not getting fixed. Then, I apologize and tell him “I’m sorry; I’m just frustrated by the state of the economy.” And, he says he understands because he feels bad he is not contributing enough.

I go back to my writing and outlining, until I turn to him and began telling him my problem:

Me: “I feel like I’m missing a main point in Book one. I have this search for an Aetite.”

Husband opens mouth

I interrupt: “And then there is Phineus, (my Antagonist for book one) who gives him a tracker.”

Husband says, “Ah…..”

I interrupt again: “Oh, and I have to tell you that he has this little creature who is his guide, and becomes his friend and he gives him a gift of the tracker and ….”

Husband just stares.

I continue: “And, at the end … (no spoiler)”

There is a long pause in the conversation as I figure out that I do have what I was afraid I do not have and that is a thread throughout the story.

“See, you are contributing.” I tell him.

His reply: “You could have figured that out by talking to a stuffed bear.”