Author: auntygreens

To love is to accept pain, faith, disappointment, wonderment, grief, mirth,heartache, joy, sorrow, and comfort.  To do so, unconditionally, is to fly in the face of the sun.

I have loved you with all of who I am.  All sides.  The most innocent, the most jaded.  The most feral, the most logical.  I rejoice the day you came back into my life.  I regret the day you came back into my life.  You will be with me, always, as I breathe, whether I wish you to be there or no.

I can not live in a cage, sweetness.  Not inside someone else’s fear.  Never again.  Nor can I ever ask that of someone else.  I do not wish that pain on anyone.  That is the part you forgot.  I could *never* ask that of someone else, in any context of that thought.  Read into that what you will because I will never control you or your thoughts that way.  I won’t make choices for you and someday, maybe, you’ll get that not making a choice *is* a choice. 

Sunshine, honey, cinnamon, and freedom.  It was always that simple.  There wasn’t anything *to* read into.

I can only hope, that someday, your heart will heal enough.  For now, mine will remain dark.  I wish you joy.

Well, my darlings, I have great news and not so great news.

Several months of extreme stress, and I became sick about a month ago.  On the plus side, I have finally quit smoking for good this time.  I have also let go of a one-sided friendship.  A hard, painful goodbye.  On another plus side, I have gotten a reminder lesson of what to take seriously and what to not.  I told someone yesterday that if I did have cancer, did I really want to return to the situation I have been living in for months, with the amount of bitchiness and sabotage.  The answer is no.

Life is too short.

I’ve been struggling to move and to be awake.  Just like a couple of years ago, when I was out of work for 10 months.  I learned a long time ago to leave behind people who would wrap me in silk due to being sick.  I learned that people who do this, can’t deal.  They make the outbursts they do for themselves.  They treat those who are sick as incapable for their own needs.  That they have a hard time coping and will keep a sick person sicker or worse, to fulfill only their own needs.  I’ve learned to find life where I can, to bring it in, no matter where I am or what is happening.

It’s okay.  This reflection time has given me back my perspectives.  I have found new happiness with my home life and my writing.

In the past couple of days, I have been able to find a new way to breathe life into my books.  I will be able to print hardcopies of books and have an easier time of designing games.

This is my best news.  One of the biggest blocks to me getting my products out is finding printers and custom manufacturers that can make the items for my games.  Finding cost-effective game pieces has been a hard road and I wound up frustrated when I have designed a game only to find out that the printers don’t make the pieces I had in mind.

Today, even though I am in debt, and will be even more so with the recent trip to the emergency room, I bought equipment that will allow Murder By Six to better manufacture the sort of games I want to make, and allow me to print my books.  I am super-super excited and  I hope I can finally bring all the designs I’ve had over the past 7 years to life.

Bless you and may fair winds be at your back…

Today has been… a day.  I’d like to say it’s been a rare one, but I can’t.

I fought with my greenhouse outside, did some laundry, took a nap.  Did chores.  A typical weekend day.  But it didn’t turn out that way.

I popped in a movie- Guardians of the Galaxy.  By it’s end, even with the movie score and the fight scenes, my house was quiet.  A normal day around here is quiet, without a lot of music.  But this was that- it’s 3 am and its raining and peaceful kind of quiet.

This summer, I didn’t post very much because, to be honest, I was downright miserable.  I haven’t been able to write much.  Edit, yes.  And I’ve finished my RPG, which was mostly technical double-checking and math.  As far as fun or peace or feeling like I could do anything other than get up and go to work?  No.

I did run into problems this weekend.  Frustration.  Severe frustration that had me screaming.  I heard a sound come out of me that I haven’t in a good, long time.  Six, seven years.  And I thought- is this it?  Is this what Life is ever going to hold for me?

Today, though… It’s been a day.  I sat on my bed, watching the battle cruiser or whatever it was blow up on tv, and I realized- it’s quiet.  My mom-radar went off.  Because, with my cats, quiet like that usually means something bad, like someone’s knocked over the upstairs tv.  But it wasn’t.

I turned around and four furry bodies were stretched out in relaxation on the end of the bed.  All sleeping.  Perfectly content.

(I have to chuckle at the moment because my mostly blind cat thinks she sees something in the glass on the tv stand.  She’s watching “it” rather intently.)

Some of my babes have had it hard.  Like I have.  Seeing those bellies up, paws stretched out toward each other or me or simply off the edge of the bed…  Sigh.  I did something right.  I feel kinship and happiness.  Peace just washed over me.  And that sound…  the sound that happens at three in the morning… that was all throughout my house.  I sat and watched them for a few moments, instead of the end of the movie.

I made two very big changes- simple ones, but big- and it’s made a difference.

There’s a point I think everyone gets to, where they feel like they are just being ground upon until there isn’t anything left except to become that cog.  My changes have made an impact.  Nothing glamorous, like seeing the ultimate concert or anything like that.  It’s small things.  Little moments throughout my days that have turned me upside down and make days like today possible.  Bad shit, like my car battery dying again, still happen.  I am different.

And as I watched my little ones, I realized I, too, was stretched out, completely relaxed.  It’s been happening more.  That feeling, that sound, has been happening more lately.  That my troubles and cares are still there- they haven’t melted completely- but they aren’t as important.  I have things that I look forward to now, without cringing.  It’s been slow.  I’ve been waiting for a long time for this to start happening, because I knew what the problem was, years ago.  Choices I made and started setting up- small and large- are in place this time.  Today was a day to be.  Not let go.  Not deal.  Not chores.  Not a lot of not-negatives.

Peace settled over me and my house, and I enjoyed every moment of it.

Blessings, all.

 

It’s the silly season.

This is for all my dear friends that have been or are struggling with loss right now.

Thanksgiving was my mother’s favorite holiday.  It’s been over seven years since she passed.  It hurts.  And it is full of memories.  Sweet, bittersweet, full of anger, full of bluck, full of laughter.  Coming up right behind this is December.  A month during which I lost three children over the course of several years.  My Grump’s birthday.  My mom’s, right after Christmas.

Yes, the silly season indeed.  Eight weeks of compounded gut checks, one happening before I am able to cope with the next.

Very little in my life feels like it did ten years ago.  I count that as a blessing and as a source of heart-bleed.  I let both happen.  I let myself feel both, equally and without shame.  I weep for the things that will never feel right again and the hope that slowly died throughout my marriage.  I tuck the anger aside until I am alone or with someone close who understands, who will listen without judgement.  I ignore the jackasses as best I can.  Those who ask me repeatedly how I am doing, or strangers who ask what my plans are for the holidays when what they really want is for me to ask them.  Strangers who ask where my kids are.

While I am a very private person, the reasons for it come from being meddled with by those who think they are doing the right thing, because that is what they would want.  Not from pain.  Not from shame.

I weep for my losses.  It was drilled into me that you don’t show anything in public.  I have learned that doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t matter that I have lost.  It doesn’t matter that Mom didn’t understand me very well.  It doesn’t matter that what was will never be again.  Those pieces of pain are still an expression of love.

It took a long time for me to realize that loving my mother didn’t mean I had to make the same decisions she did.  I didn’t have to live the life she wanted me to.  And, while I would love to extend that same sentiment to my ex, I find that I cannot, because the life-partner or deeply-close friends you choose, you choose to live life together, in some fashion or another.  Those are the people I feel you should open your heart to, whether or not you show your love for one another publicly.  It has little to do with the wounds being too deep, and yes, they are deep, or that I should find forgiveness.

It has to do with who else is involved- my mother and my children.  I can not *not* love them.  I can not forget who they are or what they meant to me, or it diminishes not only who I am as a person, but their lives as well.  While I do not have to become what my mother wanted, that doesn’t mean I didn’t love her with the whole of my heart.  And to really show that love, even now, it means the pain of her loss is with me, too.

No, I can not stop death.  I can not change it.  I am powerless to stop it from happening.  The past is the past.  And that is a great comfort.  Because while there will never be another Mom, neither can she be taken from me again.  While there will never be another Samantha Ann or David, or Gabby, I still have room inside my heart to grow and love, and I still have the love for my children that I do.  While Adrian was the love of my life, it did not stop me from loving my ex, and my failed long-term relationship will not stop me from loving another.  While I do not have the friends I did as a teenager, I have others- deep close personal friendships that mean more to me than the world and more to me than the endings of those friendships.  One drop of love touches another.

Thanksgiving will always be my mother’s favorite holiday.  While I miss the turkey and getting up at 5 AM to make meat stuffing with her, and all the humor that went with it, especially when she turned her back on our 17 lb. cat when I went to the bathroom and he tried to take off with a 40 lb bird, I am also grateful that I have those memories.  That I no longer have to dress in heels or white linen stockings or wear awful dresses for family get-togethers, forced into a house with people I do not get along with.  That I no longer have to answer questions about when I am getting legally married or having children over what should be a pleasant meal.  I can simply remember my mother on the couch and attempting eat a sandwich, surrounded by our pets and how they outfoxed her completely.  She was overwhelmed and wound up laughing her ass off on the floor, plate flipped over by her feet, and several sets of scurrying noises as bits of bread and meat somehow disappeared or went flying through the air.  And now, I have a new Thanksgiving tradition that involves a sandwich.  I have other pets that are similar to the ones who have passed.  While bread and meat don’t necessarily go flying through the air, there is a lot of purring and happiness.  And other chaos that would take too long to write out.

Let your loss be.  Be.  It is a part of who you are.  It doesn’t have to overrun you.  And if your choice of dealing with it is practical jokes and laughter, so be it.  Grief comes in many forms.  We can not live for the dead or the love that was there dies, too, because *we* are the ones ending it, not those who have left.  The gut checks will happen, whether you want them to or not.  We can, however, take those drops of love that were and continue on, continue to have more, continue to be alive, and continue to remember.

Blessings to all who have lost a child, a spouse, a cherished pet, a parent.  You are loved.

 

Goodness!  Three months without a post!

I guess time flies when you’re not having fun!  It’s been a very rough summer… six, seven months, actually.  I decided not to spew all over the internet with it.  I just didn’t think as much time had passed.

I’ve had two cats undergo major surgery and I’ve lost my grand dame, Nefret, to cancer.  She went downhill very quickly at the end.  I must say, though, that I have the best damned vet in the world.  Thanks, Doctor Dale and the staff at Cayuga Veterinary Services, for everything you do for me and my family.  And the team at Veterinary Medical Center, for their night emergency services.  I don’t think Pi would have made it through anything without any of these wonderful, caring people.  (He has a tendency to rip out his stitches after surgery, though this last one, somehow Dr. Dale wrapped his leg in such a way that he actually couldn’t get out of it for 5 days.  I swear, this cat was Houdini in a past life.  He’s managed to get out of casts, harnesses, bandages, cones of shame, and carriers.)

I want to thank everyone from twitter that has said hello recently!

With some other news…

I am almost ready to release Alder, Book 4, of my World of Novo Series, as well as the first two books in the Murder By Six Plots and Drops Role Playing Game.  Also, I will have an online store, soon.  Still researching on where.

As for me?  Well, I haven’t been able to write much this summer, due to extenuating circumstances, which I will not be adding in to my blog.  Suffice to say, I have been incredibly unhappy for several months.  And, I blew out my knee five weeks ago.  Finally went to see a doctor.  Two, actually.  I will be seeing an ortho in about 10 days.  Might be a torn ligament.  Might be damaged meniscus.  So, of course, this year, my garden went absolutely out of control.  I think the cucumber plant was attempting to strangle just about everything else.  I did, however, get my peppers.

I made a new soup last weekend.  I was able to stand long enough to chop things.  So.

Katrin Greene’s Cream of Celery soup:

1 medium sized celery root ball

3 medium radishes

Fresh Purple Basil

Fresh Lemon Basil

water

butter

milk

coconut-almond milk combo

 

Take the root ball and clear off the outsides.  Cut into chunks, about 1″.

Clean off the radishes, skin or don’t skin, up to you.  Cut into 1/2″ chunks.

Clean the basils.  I pulled these out of the garden.  About 2 sprigs of purple and 4 lemon.  Coarsely chop.

Put all the chunks into a pot.

Add the basils.

Add in butter.  I used 1/4 cup, but you do this to taste.

Add in enough water to cover, then a 1/2″ over the top.

Boil until the celery root chunks are soft but not soppy.  Because I couldn’t stand for very long, this took me two hours.  I had to turn the burner off twice to prevent boil over, as I cook in glass cookware.  This makes a difference!  Liquid contents will continue to simmer for a good twenty-thirty minutes or so, after the burner is turned off, if you use glass.  You may need to add water, but don’t add too much or your soup won’t thicken later.

Take everything out of the pot and put in a bowl.  Retain the pot.

Scoop chunks and liquid into a blender.  Do not add too much chunks or you can break your blender.  Try to do this while your ingredients are still warm and make sure there’s enough liquid to make the mash.  Puree until the mixture is consistent and your blades don’t go ca-chunk.  Pour the contents back into the pot and pull out any chunk that is still in existence.  Start a new batch to puree.  Do so until it’s all back in the pot.  You can get rid of the bowl now.

Add in milk and coconut-almond milk.  Again, this is to taste.  I used about a 1/2 cup of lactose free whole milk and 2/3 cup of pre-blended coconut-almond milk.  Mix with a rubber spatula very quickly, until consistent.  Turn the burner back on low for about 15 minutes to thicken.

Voila!  You now have cream of celery soup.

I added pre-cooked, dry, crispy bacon and corn to my base.

Keeps pretty good in the fridge.  Can also be frozen.

 

And, just as a warning…  When your sister is helping you get your food shelves back in order because you are even klutzier than normal, due to the leg, try to remember that the bottle of olive oil is in the cupboard over the stove before you accidentally open the door and drop it in the soup pot.  That isn’t the kind of shower she wants to take.

 

I will be starting a new series of blogs- the adventures of Ham and Cheese, soon.

Have an awesome!

 

My buddy Magoo is at a gaming convention right now and I was sharing a memory with him.  I used to love table top war games, including Warhammer and Warhammer 40K.

I played, years ago.  Tyranids.  Or Bugs, if you know your lingo.

I will tell you a story that I told him, with pictures.  I don’t have rights to the images on these links and they aren’t my pieces, but they will show you what I am talking about.

I love to play the bad guy in games.  In the case of WH40: Bugs.  This link will take you to front line gaming.  About a third to a quarter down the page, you will see a picture for Carnifex.  This is an old school carnifex.  What I had when I played.

If you look closely, you will see that Carnifex has an open mouth with teeth.

One day, I was at my local Hobby Store, playing a massive meat-grinder game.  I had a carnifex on the table and my mental glitterbombs went off.  I don’t know how or why, but they did.

I said- “He looks sad.  He looks hungry.  That he needed a ham sandwich.  Carnie needs a ham sandwich.”

This, of course, broke up my table mates into hysterical laughter.

That night, I went home and painted the inner claws with glitter paint.  And later on, I found a little doll plate that had 2 slices of bread and an apple on it.  So he could have an appetizer before he ate through the marine army I was used to playing against.

“Carnie wants a ham sandwich” became my battle cry.  Complete with glitter and …

Well.  Chuckles… good times.  Good memories.

 

Oh, boy, I am in so much trouble!  The blackberries.  Oh, my, the blackberries…

While this has been a completely frustrating week, with printers severely messing up my orders, I had a very… awesome weekend.  Very awesome.

I slept.

That may not mean all that much to most.  For me?  I normally get… oh… 4-5 hours of interrupted sleep a night.

When I sleep, I sleeeep.  It’s yummmmmmy.

Think of spending over 48 hours in a state of cloud.  No sense of time.  Floating.  Just after the third beer blurry.  The moment when “the black” of intensity turns… mellower and you’ve got your eyesight back from bouncing colors on your eyelids, you’ve gotten your breath back, and you still have absolutely no bones to speak of, but past that point where someone attempts to convince you that you’re a grapefruit and you respond by saying, “thanks, I’d love one.”

48 hours…  and all that happens for me to get this is to sleep.

I’ve needed it.  In an attempt to describe my best writing time of day to a friend, I’ve discovered some of what I, personally, have been… not exactly missing…. I think more… not getting enough of, in my writing.  Sometimes, these gentle whacks to the head are just what I need to kickstart myself again.

I’ve been paying attention to the garden a lot lately.  For personal happiness.  But also, in the Novo series, I’m up to August.  And I was writing it in the winter.  Today, as I came home from work and saw the purpling forest of thorns, I had about fifteen images come to mind that I should definitely thread through my stories.

I say the “blackberries,” because I really do not want to look at the other side of my front yard garden.  Other than to notice that I do, indeed, have peppers.  Six of them.  While a handful of things did not grow…  (biting my lip), many other things did.  Impressively.  I think I will be overrun with cucumbers, pumpkins, and melons much more than the blackberries.  Berries are at least small.  All I can think about right now is poor Elizabet with the cucumbers and pumpkins.  I have images coming through of those creeper vines coming up the side of the house and knocking on the window for a glass of water.  I can only imagine what trouble I will cause with a forest of berry bushes…  At least Duncan will be safe from them.  I have to pick a new victim from my Guard, other than Duncan and Alden…  Wonder who it will be to carry on through the summer months?

 

WOOT! WOOT!  My application got approved!

I’m going to be at the Rotary Ribs, Rhythm, & Blues fest in Auburn!

 

https://www.auburnrotarybbq.org/

 

Emerson Park, July 20-22

YAY!

Whew.  I have discovered GARDEN YOGA!

That bowl of strawberries might not look like much.  But most of those are the first harvest of wild strawberries no bigger than a fingernail.  I haven’t hit the set on the cliff face yet.  But as anyone who has taken yoga and has spent an hour in various versions of the downward dog, you can guess just how much I was shaking afterwards.  Not exactly looking forward to the warrior pose on the cliff side, but!  I am definitely getting my all over body workout.  Sans kitty assistance.

The parsley (Top row, right) is HUGE.  And I didn’t even plant this one.  It migrated from a container garden I had last year to the front box beds.

 

 

 

 

I do have evidence (Bottom left) of blossoms on a pepper plant.  My GOAL has been ACHIEVED!  Both the peach tree and chestnut are doing great.  And the blackberries.  I can’t get over this.  My neighbor can’t get over this.  The bottom right is one bundle about the size of my palm.  I look out over my front yard patch and I am amused and concerned that the culms might actually wind up taking over someone’s car.

 

 

 

 

I’ve ordered several more bushes.  I’ve decided that, since some of the poor diseased trees were cut down behind my house, that belonged to the cemetery, there is a lot more light and space.  I know, a handful of years before I bought this house that a giant lilac was high on the cliff face.  I had to rip the lilac out because it was sick and the termites were horrendous.  I’ve tried for years to get rid of the honey locusts, hostas and day lilies that took over it’s place.  A nice dwarf orchard would look great.  And will attract a lot of birds.  It will be nice to see.

Even better, I’m putting this knowledge into the Novo:Ridge Lake series.  I know, yada, yada.  It’s not a sales pitch.  Part of why I love to write these books is that, in my heart, I think of all the wonderful things out there, just waiting, that make life… better.  For most it’s high tech.  For me?  Herbalism and environmentalism has been my passion since I was so young.  All these cool things that can be made.  With what’s right around us all.

I’ve mentioned that I’ve redone my kitchen and how I shop.  I’m starting to physically feel better.  Just getting outside, even in the heat…  I’ve stopped bothering with the gas mower.  I have a push one now, because it beats doing pushups.  I can see, literally SEE, the progress I’m making each day.  Even getting up into the heavy grasses on the cliff face.  The yellow portulaca that I planted for my grandmother (it was her favorite) is taking over.  Last year?  Last year, I got sick enough that I was in bed for nearly six months straight.  And in my research, I’ve discovered plants that most people think of as common weeds killing their yards that our forefathers used as painkillers.  Not just willow bark.  And that, a hundred years ago, people ripped out grass fields to make room for dandelions because of how nutritious and beneficial it was to eat.

I’m not saying everything was better back then.  Disease certainly ran rampant.  I also know people have vastly different definitions of both homesteading and survivalism.  I don’t care.  Honestly, I don’t.  I may live in a sort of suburbia and spend 14+ hours a day on a computer.  I also know I can live quite happily without electricity or central heating or plumbing.  I can’t tell you how much I’ve cut down on the bills since I’ve started putting this stuff into play.  And I always have something interesting going on.

Since I’ve started focusing on this garden, I feel better inside.  I have something good and positive to move on to, instead of letting my past continue to make me feel numb.  I don’t miss the hurtful chaos one little bit.

And I have to say… something odd happened to me today.  A sort of validation that came from a friend of mine.  Positive.  After years of criticism over a viewpoint I’ve taken since I was about 14, this person said that they were happy I had that viewpoint and acted on it years ago.  (I’m paraphrasing, here.) Someone actually saw that I had been being nice and… well…   The way it was stated, by this person, it came out like others have repeatedly done in the past, as a negative.  It wasn’t meant that way and I didn’t catch on at first.  I had no idea how to handle the observation as a positive.  I actually almost cried from it.  My head’s still in shock and a bit numb.

I have this wonderful space, outside and around my house, to work this stuff out now.   I spent an hour hauling stuff around and using the push mower.  Especially up the cliff.  Worked out almost all of that confusion.  Enough that I had the time and energy to sink into getting what’s needed for that dwarf orchard that I’m picturing in my head, instead of twisting myself up inside, trying to cope.  I don’t need to “cope.”  Those choices I made to stop dealing and just get on with things is blessing my day and helping to create something wonderful.

And, this fall, I’ll be making collapsible DIY greenhouses to put over my new orchard to protect it until it can be hardy enough on its own, with our harsh NY winters.  How cool is that?

Hope your day is turning out as whacky as mine.  Tomorrow, I’ll be out, doing the warrior on the cliff to get the rest of those strawberries to freeze for this winter…

It’s a hot. lazy summer night.  Muggy weekend.  I’m pretty happy, though.  I’ve got the start on manufacturing for Survival: Heaps.  The reason?  I’ve rented a booth (hopefully) at a massive BBQ in July.  Very excited about this.

I’ve been working on some basic graphic design lately.  Getting ready.

But tonight, in the heat, with my tiny ac on, and wrestling with the cats for room on the bed in front of it, I’m watching the First Time again.

It’s an odd movie.  Love the ending.  I’ve done some massive editing on Hawthorne lately.  Added in scenes and bits of storylines from other books.  I’m watching this struggle.  Thinking of some of the heavy duty “shtuff” I’ve been dealing with lately, you know- career, house, people.

Today, I saw little blooms on my pepper plants.  Which is what prompted me to take a break from accounting and manufacturing and graphic design and switch over from watching Criminal Minds to The First Time.  I need that “feel good” oddball whacky ending.  To go with the peppers.  I think, this week, I’m going to re-read Alder, Book 4, and see what I need to add in little touches of, here and there.   Swing into putting together Survival:Heaps games.  And begin a grammar edit on Lamp Light.  Should round out my week nicely.

Oh, and kitty survived his latest cancer surgery.  He’s doing fine and for once, so far, hasn’t… nope.  Not going to finish that though and accidentally tempt Fate.