What’s more exciting than winning a 2-hour consultation with Build the Fort author Chris Heivly? Actually having my consultation with him, at his headquarters on W. Main Street in Durham! That’s what.
Always aware of my surroundings, I was especially delighted in the set-up laid out before me. It is like a bee hive with all the different pockets of work spaces filled and everyone in them happily busy at work. This is a cheerful place, full of bright colors that instill confidence at first glance. It’s a place where dreams are confided and fulfilled. I’ve read the book (review posted already) loved it and now I am here to fill in the blank spaces. That’s with Chris’ guidance, of course.
The time has come to branch out, to make a plan to learn what avenues I need to travel in order to offer my talents and services to those who will benefit from them on a business level. I’ve been volunteering for many, many years now and it’s time to spread my wings and fly.
Chris is fabulous! He’s easy to talk to, immediately understands all my inadequate feelings of not knowing, how and where, to proceed next. We talked with comfort like I’d known him since he was born. That is very cool. He was also very helpful in getting me on my feet. I came home with a notebook loaded with ideas and scribbles that will direct me with confidence. I’m ready to set out and set the world aglow!
Thanks to LISA HAGAN BOOKS! For this great opportunity in winning this champion of wins!
A bunch of thanks to Chris Heivly, instructing me on how to Build the Fort! I’m on my way!
Category: women
BUILD THE FORT by Chris Heivly (book review)
Well, really, don’t you remember building forts when you were a kid? We were lucky enough to have a small wooded area that we neighborhood kids converged on (and later my own four sons). Actually we built a tree house with connecting logs running to other trees. I cannot imagine how one of us didn’t break a bone in the process.
On rainy days, my brother and I built forts inside, using sheets and blankets incorporating the dining room table and chairs. It was great fun that left me with fond memories of building a fort. Thinking of those days pulled at me with interest to read Build the Fort by Chris Heivly.
This book came to me just in time. I’ve been wanting to spread my wings and help guide readers who want to become writers. I know what I want to do, but need to know how to go about it. This book is all about ‘how to’ in an easy way to follow.
Chris is the co-founder of MapQuest and The Startup Factory, sharing his knowledge with passion, about facing fear, overcoming it, and how to handle building your business with confidence. He breaks it down to five easy steps that he uses building a fort as a metaphor to make the task simple for the reader to understand.
He tells us how to socialize our ideas, choosing who to socialize it to. While he encourages us, he guides us to miss the pitfalls, laying it all out before us so it is clear. He isn’t shy about revealing his weak spots-the ones he doesn’t want to deal with and tells us how to do that, too.
In reading the book, learning about bartering is included, along with giving something back. Really, Chris covers it all. It’s a great little book, one the reader doesn’t get lost in, but finds her way to exactly where she wants to be. Get a copy. Today, if possible.
Oh, and yes, I love the way he lays out the plans for Building the Fort. It brings back memories.
UNEARTHING VENUS: My Search for the Woman Within BY Cate Montana
I would have chosen a different path if I had this book to read when I was a teen. Montana’s journey through life reads so amazing that I sat up all night to finish it. Her sincerity, brutal honesty, and deeply touching moments jumped off the page and into my heart. It took tremendous courage for her to just pick up and do, trusting in the universe to support her when she wasn’t sure of it herself. Montana’s life reads like a feminine Indiana Jones, yet it is true. Reading of her stamina that got her through the tough parts, followed by the tenderness of cat Grace sitting on her lap at the computer brought home the complexity of a woman; this woman and so many of the women out there, including me. This is the best memoir I’ve read in twenty years!
Longbourn by Jo Baker…..a review
Longbourn. The very name of the manor house of the Bennet family of Jane Austen fame will perk up the ears of any reader and avid fan of Pride & Prejudice. Yet there are so many offshoots of the Jane Austen novels that are not worthy of a true fan of hers. I found that Longbourn by Jo Baker is an excellent read. The story comes from the voice of Sarah, an orphan servant below stairs. As she comes of age, she tells the story from her viewpoint, longing for love and wishing a man would rescue her from this life.
When James Smith comes on the scene as a footman, it is obvious to Sarah that there is a secret to uncover; something to do with Longbourn. Secrets must be uncovered, she says to no one there.
Ptolemy, a freed man of Africa, who takes on his master’s name of Bingley enters the picture with big, wild, dreams of his own and he’d like Sarah to share them. Sarah longs for a life away from the drudgery and doesn’t mind going after what she desires.
Jo Baker does an exceptional job of writing. She keeps the language of the early 19th century, only revealing what the downstairs servants would have known or heard of what was going on upstairs, and describing what their lives would truly have been like. She also shows a different view of Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins. Brava to you Ms. Baker.
The WAM Maya Angelou Tribute
Thomas Park of the Warren Artists’ Market (WAM) declared the First Friday Poetry Night in June to be a tribute to the memory of Maya Angelou; a great idea for a great lady who influenced many people in her lifetime. Several folks read a poem or two of hers. I had just recently taken “Maya Angelou: The Poetry of Living” by Margaret Courtney-Clarke out of the library, so I brought it along. In the book there are over a hundred pages of comments from people whose lives she touched, along with a few comments of her own.
To accent my chosen readings from the book, I added two poems that touched me especially. “Alone” was one and the other “Touched by an Angel” surely she had personal experiences with both.
Sterling added some soft jazz in the background and gave us all a special treat by playing a recording, bringing Maya Angelou’s voice right into the room with us! A delightful experience!
Maya cooked with words of all varieties. She also was a kitchen cook. Reading her cookbooks, The Welcome Table and Great Food, All Day Long, etc. that sit on my cookbook shelves, are filled with recipes for elegant dining, the best recipes for leftovers, and a running conversation. They make me feel as if she is in the kitchen with me. A blessing and a comfort, indeed.
I hope she got her cool drink of water before she died.
Looking for a Lost Relative
Looking for a Lost Relative
The trouble women face, not as often today as in the past, is the name thing. When we get married and take our husband’s name as our own, we lose our identity. This makes genealogy searches on women extremely difficult. And when we marry a second time, it makes it twice as difficult.
It also makes it hard when cleaning out old files and boxes full of photos that the next generation will know nothing about. Which brings me to my dilemma; I have photos of a first cousin, who I only remember meeting once or twice in a lifetime that spans two centuries. (The last one and this one-I’m not over 100 years old.)
The photo posted was Janet Bice at her Holy Communion, born in Trenton, New Jersey area, I think. in the late 1930s. Daughter of William Bice. Not sure, but I think her mother’s name was Helen. The last I heard, she lived to Texas. This would have been in the 1970s. If anyone has an idea of who she or her family is, please let me know. I know someone out there would love to have these pictures.
Purple Socks
What is it about purple socks? I began wearing purple-colored socks and only that color, at least 10 years ago. I first came across them at the Columbus Farmers’ Market in New Jersey. They have a huge flea market outside covering acres of new and used items on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The Sox Lady there makes her own socks and brings them to the market each week. I bought a dozen pair, all the same; all from the same dye lot. No longer would I have to go searching for a mate. Just reach into the pile and pull out two socks. Voila`. A matched set.
I have no idea where the idea of wearing purple socks came from or why I chose that color and not pink, orange, or my favorite color, green. If you know, please let me know.
A few years ago I went to our local radio station, WARR 1520 AM to do an interview with Sherman Johnson. As I waited my turn in the foyer, a gal walked in…..wearing purple socks. She glanced down at my feet and smiling, said, “Hi, I’m Sharon.”
I liked her instantly. Was it the shared love of purple socks? Did it mean more than two people liking the same thing? We chatted casually, half listening to Mr. Johnson on the air. We met again briefly, a year or two later, at a Warren Artists’ Market (WAM) poetry slam in the Warren County Memorial Library. Her teenage son Noah was reciting that night. He sounded like a natural, words rolling off his tongue without effort. At least it seemed to me to be without effort.
Another few months passed before our next meeting at the Senior Center where I had arrived a bit late. I say a bit late because Sharon had invited me on that first meeting, to come to the Center and give a workshop on writing. Stuff kept cropping up, getting in the way until the invitation faded in my mind. Now I was there to team-teach writing, poetry mixed with memoir.
I realize that when a path is laid out, I may drift away from it, but I will get back on it because the path is still there, waiting.
And I was delighted to see Sharon was still wearing purple socks, as I was, too.
Pssst……..in case you haven’t heard:
Sherman Johnson has invited me to his radio show to talk about ghosts….& things that go bump in the night and maybe more….wow! ….on the radio! WARR 1520 AM or on your computer….on Wednesday, 27 March at 10 am. Who knows what subjects may come up……it’s a month for women’s history! Join us, expect the unexpected………..
AND
Thursday 28 March 2013, at 5 pm at the Warren County Memorial Library….a Reading, Signing and talking about: Ghostly Spirits of Warren County & Beyond. Question & Answer period to follow. I’d love to see you. C’mon out and we’ll talk…
Surreal or Preview?
Friday, 28 December dawned like this. It was the day of the most amazing experience. I visited Ed McKay’s Used Book store to exchange some books for a few CDs and DVDs in Raleigh. Mostly the trip was for just getting away from the computer for a day. And what better way to relax than being surrounded by books & such. Content with my exchange, I was driving home to Macon heading north on Hwy 401 in Wake County, NC.
Cruising along listening to an audio book, not a day to be in a hurry, when I heard a ‘pop’ and wondered if a stone had flipped up from the road to hit the car. I thought no more of it until I heard a soft thump, thump, thump. “Oh, no,” I thought. Here I am out in a rural area, knowing I had just blown a tire. Darn. At least I wasn’t flying down the road speeding.
I started to coast toward the side after clicking on the hazard lights. But the shoulder looked like it may be soft. Knowing I had most likely ruined the tire anyway, I crept up to a driveway where I could at least pull out of traffic.
Yup. It was a blowout. The tire looked mighty sad. ‘Darn,’ I thought again. I called Triple AAA on my cell phone, got the message asking for my ID number, hung up because I’d have to look for the card, yadda, yadda, yadda. I got out again noting the mail box number so I could also give them some kind of location. That’s when the mini-miracle began to happen.
Two young men came walking down the driveway with a weed trimmer in hand. Guess they were going to trim around the entrance to their property. Smiling, one fellow came over to check things out, sweet as could be. They invited me to pull up the driveway to their garage about 100 foot away.
Within minutes they had the tire off the rim and my spare off the back of my tracker, zip, zip went the power drill, bolts off, deed done, new tire on and old tire in the back of the car. It was surreal. I barely had time to pet the dog! It only took a few minutes! They wouldn’t accept any money but they each got a very hearty hug from me and they sure have my gratitude.
Those two darling men turned my day from becoming an awful one to a wonderful one. I would not have been shocked if I saw halos floating over their heads, but I did not. I did see two gentlemen in jeans that will be in my thankful prayers of gratitude tonight and many nights more.
I didn’t even get their names!
But I’ve had strange experiences like this before and I would not be surprised if we meet again in the future, that this was a mini introduction to something bigger. We’ll see.
The Kiss of Gustav Klimpt
The painting draws my attention
like a casual stroller at the lower left hand
corner of the local garden.
The softly draped yellows and flecks of color
falling from their shoulders,
while kneeling, down to their feet
where hers are bound by ropes of gold,
making her flight impossible.
My eyes gaze upward to the fold of their robes
blending in, one with the other,
then I notice her face turned away
from his kiss placed so tenderly
on her cheek.
Boredom is her expression;
being
the adored one,
lonely,
no passion there.
His hands cup her face,
gently,
his neck bends
to kiss
his beloved.
Her arm circles
his shoulder,
hanging on
while the other
pushes him away.
Stars are in her hair
adornment,
reflecting
the absence of
stars in her eyes. © Arlene S. Bice, 2008