Ramblings are called that for a reason.

Michiko in her comment, when I said my son was enjoying Japan, said she didn’t realize I had a son. I thought how I keep my personal life personal -except every now and then something may slip, or I will share something that has happened – as when my beautiful Old Girl Kayla died (when I wrote that, I looked up at the painting with her on the porch – still miss my old girl). But, I don’t say much about myself that doesn’t pertain to my writing/editing or something immediate in my life.
 
So, although I can’t imagine anyone is interested, but:
 
Yes, Michiko, I have a son; my only child. He lives in Oregon. I’m proud of him…he’s turned into a fine young man and is dating a wonderful girl with a really great Italian family. I’m proud of him, and her. I miss him because he’s so far away. I’d kick the ass of anyone who hurt him. He’s too intelligent for his own good sometimes, but I grin as I write that–a proud mother’s grin. My husband has three children, but I don’t think of myself as their stepmother – they were older when we married and never lived with us. I like them; they are fine children, but I do not feel like their mother. I’d do anything for them if they asked and I was able to do it. I’d protect them if they needed protecting, and I’d kick anyone’s asses if they hurt them. I am proud of their accomplishments…hmm, maybe in some ways I do feel like their "mother."
 
I love full moons and instead of making me crazy, they make me sane. I am weird like that.
 
I have four brothers, but David died in 1994 and I never got over it; none of us ever got over it; you do not "Get Over It…" it only becomes less acute by distance of time (except for times when it becomes acute again).
 
I love watching The Office. I quit watching ER two or so years ago, because they lost their interesting characters and went shallow. I watch Discovery Channel and Science Channel and I adore Neil deGrasse Tyson and M. Kaku. I quit watching Lost after the second season for all kinds of reasons.
 
I am shy, but like other shy people, I hide it by doing things shy people do to hide they are shy.
 
I didn’t have good women friends until I was in my 40’s and when I found them, or they found me, or we found each other, I knew I’d found the best damned friends in the world–it was worth the wait. They are beautiful and gifted and talented and unique and they love me and I love them…I’ve since widened that circle of friends and they know who they are.
 
I eat a piece of dark chocolate almost every day. I hate parsnips so much I curl my lip as I write "parsnips." I adore cheesecake. No Fat mayonnaise is an abomination.
 
I was adopted by my mother when I was a young girl – I had lived with her and my father since I was 3 1/2ish. Most of my biological family lives in West Virginia.
 
I love Boston Terriers and one day will have another one. I cried when my friend’s Darla died – cried for her, and cried because I missed my Boston Terrier from years ago, and cried because I loved Miss Darla and even named a character after her in my  VK book.
 
I can’t stand sugar or salt or grittiness on my bare feet. I don’t like bare feet touching me. Really, I do not.
 
Sometimes my nightmares scare the hell out of me and make me think I am insane. Sometimes my dreams facinate me and make me think I’m not so bad. Sometimes between wake and sleep I hear laughter, or crying, or names called, or once I saw a shadow of a girl in a bonnet, and I saw the Shadow Man watching me but without malice. Sometimes I dream things and wake feeling as if I am supposed to KNOW something as if someone or something is trying to get me to receive a message and I just don’t get it…and then I feel insane again.
 
I watch Food Network less and less and Green Planet TV more and more.
 
My novel character Virginia Kate is derived from my name "Mary Kathryn," my bio mom’s name Katherine Sue, and my adoptive mother’s name "Ruth Virginia" together…we three women are the heart of fiction story that isn’t about us, not really…but more about Women and Secrets and Lies and Hope and Love. 
 
The Virginia Kate Novel (From a Mountain Rising) has secret codes in it – whispered secrets that no one will know but me; or sometimes, some will know just what I meant. It is so full of secrets that when the book is published and when the reader opens it, ghosts may fly out, but do not be afraid, for they will just fly out and whisper all the secrets on the wind and be freed – each time you open the book – when it is at last published – you are freeing the Secrets…and I will thank you, and they will thank you. Spells will be broken and spirits will be freed.
 
When I was a little girl, I used to eat dirt. I once filled a cake box full of it and proceeded to eat it. Years later, I recently wrote a story about a girl who ate some dirt from a cake mix box, but it was not me. I do not eat much meat anymore. But, I never eat veal, or lamb – and never ever Pork from those beautiful smart pigs.  I love soup. I hate to eat reptiles or amphibians, or octopus, or squid, or raw oysters because it gives me the "eyewwss." But, I wish I had a cinnamon bun right now. I had to write cinnamon three times because it looked weird so I googled it and realized I had it right.
 
I have never met my maternal or paternal grandfathers, ever.
 
As I write all this, I become nervous. Exposing myself. I consider deleting some of it. I think to go back and make sure I haven’t said "too much." You will never know if I did delete or if I did not.
 
I wonder right now who is reading this or if they are bored as they probably are at my ramblings, and why some people do not stop and leave a message and then again I sometimes visit places and do not leave a message and I wonder about all kinds of things – I am a wondering woman, a wandering woman, a waiting woman.
 
The title of my original Virginia Kate novel was "The Waiting" until I googled it. Then it was "The Waiting Woman." Then, it was so very different from what it is now. I recognize with clarity that the original may have published faster, but then, it would not be Virginia Kate, it would be someone else. I will still tell that Waiting Woman’s story – very soon. soon…it is not my story, even though I called myself a waiting woman. Arent’ we all?
 
I am where I am supposed to be, right here right now – but I am far from some of those I’d like to be close to right here right now.
 
I am boring everyone, including myself. I will go now.
 
Tomorrow, I will be backon my schedule – since I have come to kind of sort of like my schedule.
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8 thoughts on “Ramblings are called that for a reason.

  1. Hi there!  It was nice to read a bit about you, and no, I was not bored.
       xx  fellow shy person, aka Wildcat, aka     ~Pamela~

  2. That was so very interesting. Thank you for sharing. I know that\’s hard. I SEE you…and I\’ll see ya in person soon. ;)

  3. About those "fall foliage" photos on the csmonitor.com web site – did you read the little caption underneath? Maybe what you thought was one taken near you, really was!
     
    And I liked hearing about your mom\’s new kittens. Mine seem to have found other resources. Maybe I\’ll post something about them tomorrow. :)
     
    Best,
    Nan
     

  4. Thanks for stopping by. I know what you mean by exposing yourself so personally. I\’m always amazed at people who blog so freely about their kid\’s problems, their visits with their psychitrist, their gastro-intestinal problems (really!), their PTSD, OCD, sexual abuse, depression . . . . in detail. I think you told us just enough. If you don\’t feel comfortable, delete the parts you would rather not have shared, even now. No one will know the difference.
     
    I hated the ER series. After working in a hospital for 27 years, many of them in the ER, it made me groan to see the high drama. Doctors shouting "Move it, Move it", discussing personal issues in front of patients, and having affairs right and left! ERs are quiet and even when there\’s a major trauma everyone moves quietly into position and goes quietly about their job. The only time there\’s any emotion is when a badly hurt child or infant comes in.
    And even then, we all did our jobs quietly, quickly, and efficiently. If there were tears it happened in private after it was all over. Many times it was difficult holding tears back when mom or dad was standing at the bedside, weeping.  I have many stories about those years. Many of them, sad.; many of them funny, some unbelievable (like the time we were doing CPR on a woman and baby roaches began crawling out of her nightgown and hair). And many of the stories were commonplace and forgettable.
    Oops, I\’d better get on with my IRB application.
    I love it when you visit and I love visiting you!
    Blessings on your house,
    Caroline
     

  5. not boring at all. actually, i think this is one of my favorites. i think you are an endlessly interesting humanoid, ms. kat. and i wish i had known i was reading your secrets when i read VK. i like vulnerable writing — honest and bare. i think that\’s where i feel the strongest connect. like when you wrote:
     
    "I am shy, but like other shy people, I hide it by doing things shy people do to hide they are shy."
     
    me too.
     
    but just like when you give your characters interesting little quirks to make them 3D and accessible… you\’re a character, too. :)
     
    p.s. i love the office.

  6. I got all about you family and you have a good friends and I have three true good friends for over 30 years…
    About youself that I remember you told us adopted by your mum .
    Would like to walking the beach (fine sands)? the prsnips it doesn matter if you don\’t eat all yourlife LOL!
    I believed you are pretty much on the vigetarian? thats very good for you! on the What is a good for you on the program the TV. It was NOT BORING POST "thank you."
    Have a great weeks ahead, 

  7. Not a boring post at all.  As others, I liked your description of being shy.  It seemed somewhat convoluted, but expressed the feeling exactly.  I know that to be true because it describes me well, also.  The only bit that concerned me was the part about "exposing yourself."  Oh, well.  Whatever you decide.Peace, Doc

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