Finally Back!

Well, that was a ridiculously long absence, and I apologize. I have had many, many beneficial changes since the seizure in May. I have lost 40 lbs., I have drastically changed my diet, I have been exercising regularly for 5 months and even joined a gym. My blood sugar numbers stay pretty perfect.  But . . . I feel different.

I tire easier. I get overwhelmed easier. Is it weird to say I don't feel like quite the same person as I was before? I can't even say I don't like this person, in many ways, better, but there are some things I don't care for as much either. I get angry at my inability to tolerate as much as I used to. I get especially upset at the physical problems I am still dealing with. I mean, HECK, how much more virtuous can I get?! :) (I suppose I could give up coffee, but then I wouldn't want to live anyway . . . just kidding. Sort of. Love my low sugar mochas.) I've had a weird assortment of physical issues in recent weeks and I simply have no patience for any of them. They make me angry.

Sigh.

Other news? Family is doing very well. Nicole has a new job working at the Portland airport and, for the first time, she really, really LIKES her job. No news on the dating front. She is doing National Novel Writing Month for the 7th year in a row. She turned 23 last week--amazing. The age I was when I got married. How did that happen?

Caspian is still working about 20- 25 hours a week at a local brick manufacturing plant. He is thinking about going to Indiana in early 2014 to live with his grandmother for a few months, get a part time job, visit friends and family, and increase his traveling experience. He will be 21 in the spring. Once again, how did that happen?

Coryn has a little less than a month left on his grand travel adventure. We have missed him terribly. He has certainly had some incredible experiences, from learning to live in remote locations, helping to  take care of two very lively, busy little people, driving a quad, and discovering how hot Africa can get to holding an adorable baby monkey, attending a UN floating barge party and meeting a cute Greek girl. He will be home the week before Christmas and we have warned him we will do a great deal of hugging to make up for lost time. In the spring, he will turn 18 and I will officially have all "adult" children. (They've been adults for years in my opinion.)

Joseph is good--having sleep issues, which is lousy for him, and for me, since his disturbances bleed over into mine. We are experimenting with changing sleep schedules to see if we can figure it all out. We celebrated 31 years of marriage at the end of last month. As we so predictably are at that time of the year, we were broke and so did little. We went out to dinner, had some wonderful sangria wine, and had silly pictures taken in a photo booth. I cherish them. And him. And our years together. And the ones to come.

Still writing letters (they are occasionally my personal salvation on a day when I have written assignments all day and want to put words together that are about ME). Still reading when I have a chance. No new glasses yet, sadly. Not in the budget. Think I will ask Santa to bring them. :) Does he have elves who specialize in that kind of thing?

Sorry for the long silence. I should be back more now. It means a lot that people check in, read and I love comments, so feel free to leave them. Thanks all.

A Guest Author?! Really? YES!

Hey almost two dozen followers . . . . sorry for my continued absence. I have tons of excuses but it will boil down to lack of time, as usual. In my stead, however, I'd love to post something my daughter Nicole wrote recently. It touched my heart in many, many ways and I thought it said so many essential things about who we are and who she has become, as a person, an adult, a writer, a daughter, a future wife and mother, that I had to share it. Give it a read. Leave comments if you want. I so enjoy knowing you came by. 

Reviews and Ridicule

I came to a realization recently regarding my own writing.

A few weeks ago, I submitted a piece of my writing to the writing group I am a member of. Now, I had done this several times before and had thought I knew what to expect. They'd always been very good about giving good feedback along with the bad, had always made a point of ending on a positive note. With this in mind, I gave them the longest piece they'd ever looked at and in retrospect; it feels as if they tore it to shreds. It's been weeks since that happened and I've had time to gain distance from it. At the time, however, I found it almost impossible not to take it personally. When an author shares a piece of writing that's a work-in-progress, it's a show of trust. When I had my story ridiculed, torn apart and then given back to me with a "there's nothing to salvage here," I found myself wanting to do nothing more than put my laptop in a box.

I'm done. That's it. I suck. Why keep going?

Because I am stronger than that, I didn't give in. I've pushed and shoved onwards into the next story, next plot, next plot of characters. I've put distance between me and my hurt feelings, but more than that, I think I've realized just why my work was received as it was.

As you likely know from reading my recent post on the Cal Leandros series by Robin Thurman, I am one of her biggest fans. This is due to the bond between her main characters, which are almost always male. Sometimes they're brothers, sometimes they're brothers in all but blood, but they're always incredibly close, yet believable. That's what I've vied for. That's the sort of dynamic I want to insert into my own tales, but according to the reviews I've gotten, I'm somehow missing the mark. When I read a review of Robin Thurman's first book, Nightlife, (I own 13 copies now) I realized why.

I was raised in a rather unusual household. It isn't just that I was unschooled all my life or that both of my parents were atheist. It wasn't just that we were a bunch of hippies, believing in things like home births instead of hospitals, breastfeeding instead of formula, family beds instead of cribs. It wasn't even that we visited nudist resorts or that we changed diets as often as most people washed their hair. No. What made my household weird and unlike that of any of my friends was the LOVE and our ability to share it.

My parents have never yelled in anger, not at each other or at their kids. Throughout my childhood and then my teens, my parents are known to kiss, grope, fondle, tickle and even (GASP) play footsy under the table at meals. Many people reading this may frown on their doing this in view of their children, but to us, it was normal. It was our parent’s way of modeling what love was supposed to look like. And no, they didn't just do this at home. Out at restaurants, my dad would hold the door open for my mom as much as he would kiss her as she walked through. Walking into one of our billion favorite coffee shops, my mom would share the newspaper with my dad as much as she'd rest her leg on his knee while they read them. These aren't inappropriate acts. They're signs of love. It only seems weird because they're showing them to the world. Shouldn't we smile at the sight rather than remark "get a room?"

At this point, you might already think my family bizarre. Stick with me though. I do fully intend to swing this topic back to writing fiction and the epiphany I had regarding my own works.

A lot of people look at my parents PDA (public displays of affection) as odd, but they're a married couple of 31 years. It's unusual, but my dad dipping my mom in the middle of the library to kiss her for no reason other than he felt like it, is STILL romantic, even if startling to some. They're married. They're supposed to be close.

What people can't wrap their heads around is the idea of siblings being close. So what if my brothers and I hug each other after being gone all day, visiting with friends? So what if my 20 year old brother worked an eight hour shift, is in pain, so I rub his shoulders while the whole family watches TV? So what if I sit next to my 17 year old brother in bed and watch TV with him on his laptop, his hip jammed up against mine (because futons are NARROW!)? So what if my entire family is walking into a restaurant and my parents link arms, so my brothers and I do too? And finally, so what if my siblings and I say "I love you" to each other at the end of phone calls and when we head to bed at night?

We're FAMILY. We love each other. Why is it weird for us to show it? It's not creepy love. It doesn't cross any taboo lines. We don't have a house or a home. We have a haven. We're 100% percent comfortable with who we are here and who our family members are. Frankly, I think I'm lucky that our hugs aren't awkward. I'm lucky that I can say I love you to the people I adore without any hesitation. I'm lucky that if one of us is in pain, I can reach out and hold a hand, rub shoulders, kiss a cheek, sit closely so that he knows I am there.

I love this, but I will admit that compared to the rest of the world, we're weird. THIS is my normal, but it's the world's weird. Thus, when I insert this type of relationship, this type of physical and verbal affection, into my stories, I get adverse reactions. Writing about two fully grown brothers hugging each other after something traumatic comes across as un-masculine. Writing about two men, unrelated yet raised as brothers, who let each other see them cry--well, that's not just girly, that's just plain wimpy. In fiction and in life, it is unbelievable for men to be affectionate with each other and still be straight.

Put simply:

(1)  I come from a household that is verbally and physically loving

(2)  As a result, I like authors such as Robin Thurman and Sarah Rees Brennan, who write stories of characters who are also verbally and physically loving, such as brothers, sisters, really good friends

(3)  As a result, I also write want to write about these types of relationships

(4)  Because these are not societal norms, my stories and my taste in stories similar to them comes as a challenge to those attempting to review them

When I read that review of Robin Thurman's Nightlife, she was being given flack for the unbelievable connection between her two main characters, Cal and Niko. As a devoted fan, I knew just what the reviewer was bothered by. You know what? They were bothered by the very thing I love Robin's books for, the very thing I always write about, the very thing I grew up with. With all of this in mind, I can now understand why I got the incredibly critical feedback that I received from that writing group.

This has left me with just one question though: Shouldn't you showing your love for your loved ones BE a societal norm? 

I'm Baccccccccck.

Sorry for the delay. In part, it is due to the fact that I have to sign in under one account to get access to online documents editors send me, and into a different account to post to this blog. Switching back and forth is sometimes irritating and complicated, and so I simply give up on posting for a while.

In part it is also due to being a little overwhelmed by life. While my blood sugars continue to stay in target range without any insulin, and my weight is still dropping (albeit S L O W L Y), I have been dealing with an angry gallbladder and then, out of the blue, some type of food poisoning. Up all night erupting (that's enough detail, right?) and then this weekend dealing with the sore muscles and pain the aforementioned eruptions caused.

So--a catch up on the Orr House is as follows . . .
Caspian is working 20 to 30 hours a week at a local company that manufactures bricks. While he doesn't LIKE going to work, he likes bringing home a paycheck and casually saying, "Here Mom, let me cover dinner tonight" or "Let me fill up the gas tank today."

Nicole is back from her travels, and has been focusing on writing jobs, transcription jobs, job applications, and gazing at handsome men from afar. Some guy so needs to come along and sweep her off her feet. She is more than ready, and is tired of making the first move after all of these years.

Coryn left Belgium this morning and lands is Africa later today. It is hard for me to imagine him there as I know so so little about where he will live. I am anxious for the chance to Skype (when clear weather in Liberia permits) and get a look at what a rubber plantation is like. I have stereotyped images in my mind as to what Africa looks like--you know, the stuff we see on the National Geographic documentaries--and it's hard for me to picture him in the middle of all of that. I miss him but am loving the adventures he is having, knowing they will be with him for the rest of his life.

Joseph is . . . . good. We have had several days of rain and already have discovered leaks that we had hoped an entire summer of money, time and VERY hard work had repaired. That was a blow, and I know he lies in bed in the mornings thinking about what to do about it. I lie there thinking about meeting due dates and how to write an introduction and what my "to do" list dictates I am doing with my day. He thinks about flashing, shingles, water patterns, and leaks. Ah, adulthood.

Anyway, that is the overall catch up for the Orr House. I will try to post more often in coming weeks, and just put up with the account switching. I have a couple of new followers now (hey guys!) and that makes me smile. Keep stopping by, leaving a comment and letting me know you're reading. It's a great motivator to give you more to read.

Til next time.

That Sound you Hear . . . .

If you happen to hear a high-pitched keening sound early Monday morning, it is not the U.S. attacking Syria. It's not a plane with engine trouble. It's not even Miley Cyrus attempting to outdo her hideous performance of earlier this week.

No. The sound is Tami's apron strings stretching around the world. I've done it before and survived. I did it in 2011 when Nicole went to Alaska, and again in 2012, when she went to Australia. Now I am doing it as Coryn walks away to go to Europe and then Africa for almost four months. His bags are packed, his yellow fever vaccine has been given, his tickets are printed, his insurance is purchased, and his Kindle is loaded up. He has such amazing adventure in front of him, I can't begin to imagine it.

I am beyond thrilled for him. This is a dream we have been holding for months, postponing in May when the seizure changed all of our lives, and then resurrecting when the family reached out to say sure, we still want him! (Thanks Laura and David!) I've bought his supplies, helped him design an online fundraiser, managed donations (thanks again to all!), and supported him every way I can.

But . . . the truth is . . . I will miss him so much, it's like walking around with a low-grade fever. It wears you out, it slows you down, it makes you feel off and irritable, and unsettled. It won't last long. He will fly out very, very early tomorrow morning, and I'll stand in the airport and cry (once he can't see me any longer), and then, as the days past, I will hear about his incredible adventures and be so happy for him I will be ridiculous.

But . . . right now, the idea that he won't be here to tease and laugh with, and to give the most amazing morning (which were always mid-afternoon since he slept in) hugs is hard to get past.

So many parents are eager for their children to grow up and move out and on with their lives. While I want excitement and adventures for all of my children, I must admit their leaving almost undoes me as I love and enjoy their company so much. Roots and wings, right?  I think the quote forgot to mention that flight is exciting freedom, but is not without its pain.

Nicole's Trip Back in Time

Nicole has been busier than usual these days. After a week spent at the Oregon Country Fair with a friend, she worked a booth at the Hood River Country Fair, learning how to get burnt making cotton candy, how hard carnies work, and how fabulous it is to be at a fair at night when everyone else has gone home.

She returned from those adventures to get on a Greyhound bus and travel all the way to Tennessee, where she was a counselor at an unschooling camp for a week. She taught her group how to do the Cup Game, performed in the talent show, and had a wonderful time. From there, she took another bus over to Indiana. She stayed for a week with her Grandmother (Joseph's mom, who lives in our old house, so she slept in her original bedroom), and visited her past in every way possible.

She had coffee with her best friend from the past--now a mom and wife. She met up with neighbors, going to lunch, getting rides and catching up. She went to our all time favorite playhouse where Jasmine and I used to usher, and saw one of the best plays ever, "Forever Plaid". She went to the office where Joseph, his sister, and his parents once worked, and to the playground and park where she used to play and go to day camp. She had dinner with two families that did--and still do--mean the world to us. They showed her amazing hospitality and kindness, welcoming her into their lives as if we had only stepped out for a few weeks instead of years. They plied her with coffee and delicious food and laughter and memories.

She visited our old grocery store, ate at favorite old spots, and walked through familiar pathways. She went out into the huge field behind our house where we took the kids to play all the time. We shot rockets up from here, shouted hello down the mancovers to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles that the kids KNEW lived down there, and had picnics there over the years.

She met up with very kind relatives and borrowed Grandma's car to drive around, getting Penguin Point french fries, and some coffee at Courthouse Coffee, and then drove to Leesburg to see the house she was born in. I had her walk down the main street and told her about how, when we lived there, Jasmine and I would get up in the morning and walk down to the post office to get our mail (no home mail delivery in a town this small), and then stop in the grocery store to get a glazed donut. We would sit on the curb and share it.

As she took this trip into the past, I was vicariously right along with her, you see. Tonight we will sit down and go through the 1,000 photos she took of the her time in Indiana and further reminisce. I am glad she is back home, sitting next to me as we do so. As much as she enjoyed her time connecting to the past, she is happy to be back here where the present and a very bright future await her, and so are we.

A Family Visitor!

Since we came to Oregon in late 2001, we haven't had many visitors from back in Indiana. My parents came out in 2005 and my Mom was here in 2007. This week we have been fortunate enough to have Joseph's youngest brother Jon here to visit as he explores this part of the country on his most lovely motorcycle. Here are the Orr bros, reunited again!

More Books!

It has been a while since I posted any books reviews/comments, so here is what I've been reading in my severely limited free time lately:

1. Zoo/James Patterson . . . . really quick, fun read. If you like fast action and a good story, he is the master.
2. Both of Us/Ryan O'Neal . . . a biography of his years with Farrah. Meh. Mostly skimmed this one.
3. Insane City/Dave Barry . . . . if you like funny and are not easily offended, RUN, do not walk, to get this book. Plan to be a pain to anyone in the room with you as you read it. You will want to read it out loud constantly and when you aren't reading it out loud, you're laughing and falling over. What a delight.
4. Defending Jacob/Landay . . . disturbing, trial/law oriented tale. Worth your time.
5. Mad Scientist's Daughter/Clarke . . . hmmm. . . interesting premise but I felt somewhat let down by it by the end.
6. Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend/Matthew Dicks. . . . incredibly unusual and fascinating read. It is from the perspective of a little boy's "imaginary friend" and what he must do when his little boy is in danger.
7. Lunatics/Barry and Zweigel .  . my second Dave Barry book. I  laughed just as much and ended up reading half of it out loud to Nicole and Joseph. Ludicrously wonderful.
8. NOS4A2/Joe Hill . . . wow. I'm a Stephen King fan but his son may just be taking over his spot in favorite authors list. This novel was fabulous and scary and beautifully done.
9. The Guilty One/Ballantyne . . . didn't think I was going to like this one at first and ended up really enjoying it. Excellent story, but would have loved another chapter or two at the end to tie us some loose ends.
10. Redshirts/Scalzi. . . . If you know the term "red shirts", you will like this book. It's a zany take on shows like "Star Trek" and a lot of fun.

I've read a few other titles, of course, and am currently reading Sisterland (really well written and incredibly intriguing story line) and Forever, Interrupted (which made me cry by p. 10 so I'm in big trouble). What's on your night table to read?