Category: gratitude

Carbo Loading The Muse

This past weekend, I competed in round two of the NYCMidnight Flash Fiction Challenge.

It goes like this: They give you a genre, a location and an object. You get 48 hours to write a one thousand word story incorporating all of that.

I *love* participating in this contest. It is my third year and it challenges me and stretches me and causes me to come at my writing from different angles.

Until this contest I’d never written anything that could be remotely labeled science fiction, fantasy or historical fiction. But guess what, I’ve done them all, and in the case of historical fiction, twice.

My first jab at historical fiction was a well researched story about Babe Ruth. It remains one of my most favored stories of all that I’ve written.

It scored very low with the judges, however.

This weekend I pondered all the angles of a comedy set in a tunnel with a gold watch. (A little bit like Clue…Colonel Mustard in the library with a candlestick.)

As I threw around story ideas, I got the brilliant Good Man involved in brainstorming. He looks at the world in a way very different from me and is a good source of inspiration. While brainstomring, he uttered one of those pearls of wisdom that will stay with me all my days as a writer.

The conversation went like this:

Me: “What’s funny about a tunnel? Is there a tunnel that could be funny? What about a sewer? Is that funny?”

TGM: “Well, anything with poop in it has potential.”

There it is, folks. Write that down. Embroider that on a dish towel. Just remember you heard it here first!

But he’s right. Bodily functions are usually funny. Except when they are not.

I chose to avoid a sewer tunnel for my story, choosing something a bit more metaphysical instead.

All of this yammering on is to say, my brain is exhausted. My Muse is weary. She gave it her all for forty-eight hours and informed me this morning that she didn’t *feel* like coming up with a brilliant blog post idea today.

So instead, I chose to follow well-heeded wisdom when it comes to writer’s block…

Write through it.

So here I am, writing through the block. Suddenly words are forming into paragraphs and the page is filling up. It’s not brilliant words of prose, but it’s working.

And here I am at about 400 words. Plenty enough for a blog post! So ok! I did it!

The Muse didn’t even have to work that hard.

Though I think if I hope to get another blog post tomorrow, I’d better treat her to some baked goods. She does tend to run better on sweets.

I’ve Become That Grownup

Last month when I visited New Mexico and stayed with my best friend, I made it a point to spend time visiting one-on-one with each of my two goddaughters.

They are ten and eight now, fully formed people, and their challenges go well beyond walking and eating and sleeping. The so-called “real world” has decided to come roost in their lives, and it is extraordinarily hard for me to adapt as quickly as they have.

My oldest goddaughter is incredibly intelligent and incredibly obstinate too (*coff*herfather*coff*). Her problem is that she is so smart and world savvy that she’s knows when someone is pulling a fast one or isn’t acting in the smartest way.

But she’s only ten going on eleven, so her powers to right the wrongs of this world are slim. So far, anyway.

She told me about how her new teacher this year is teaching the students a new approach to spelling. “I know how to spell, this is so dumb!”

And her teacher is making the students learn long division. By last year she had long division down cold. “Why do I have to do this all again!? It’s such a waste of time!”

You know what? She’s right. She’s absolutely right.

So what do I do as the adult she’s looking to for advice?

Do I do the usual grown up thing and tell her that the grown ups are right and she should just mind what they say?

Because I can’t do that.

Do I tell her fight?! Fight to the end for justice!

No, that’s not good guidance either.

So I dug deep into my own experiences and came up with just this:

“Pick your battles.”

It was advice that was handed to me in my first year of work. Like my goddaughter, I was willing to take on every challenge, rail against the inefficiencies of the bureaucracy, fight the good fight for every injustice.

The mentor assigned to me, a very easy-going sort of fellow who was revered by the leadership of that company was the first to sit me down and tell me this lesson.

Pick your battles.

Figure out the fights that one, you think you can win and two are worth putting all the energy into. If it meets both criteria, then go for it.

And fight for the ones you can’t win if it really, really matters. But remember you can’t fight them all if you want to win any.

So I found myself sitting in the cooling evening breeze in the backyard of a Las Cruces home, imparting this same knowledge to a ten year old.

“Do you honestly expect the teacher is going to look at you and say, ‘wow, you are right, I was teaching it wrong. Let’s do it your way!'”

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head.

“So what are you trying to get to? What do you expect?”

She wants to be challenged. Ah, ok. There’s something we can work with.

I told my girl that life is going to be pretty tough if every day is spent digging in her heels.

And so all of that best answers the question posed by the idea generator today:

“If you could pass on a piece of advice that meant a lot to you when you received it, what would it be?”

Pick your battles.

I might be qualified to impart that wisdom from my position in the long and deep trenches I carry behind me, heels worn down to the nub.

Customer Service Has Not Died

Despite all appearances to the contrary, customer service has not died.

Nope, there is still a small patch of wonderful service to be found in Southern New Mexico.

You’ll recall a week ago, I wrote of my joy and my subsequent despair regarding buying actual New Mexico grown chiles here in Northern California.

In that blog post last week, I mentioned that I wrote a rather terse letter to the New Mexico Department of Agriculture, complete with photographs, about my sorrow.

In fact, I’ll let you in on the text of my actual letter, sent to Mr. David Lucero at the NMDA:

_____

Dear Mr. Lucero – I found your email address from the www.nmda.nmsu.edu
webpage, though I’m unsure if you are the right person to contact.

I am a native New Mexican now living in Northern California and while on
a Southwest Airlines flight, I was happy to see an ad in their inflight
magazine for Hatch Green Chile coming to a long list of supermarkets in
my area.

My husband and I plan to buy a lot as we enjoy our green chile
throughout the year by finding kind friends back home to bring us the
good stuff.

While at Whole Foods recently in (town name redacted), California, I saw a sign for “Hatch peppers” and I was very happy (Whole Foods was on the list of stores that would carry the product).

As I picked a few from the pile, I looked closer at the sign and I
noticed it said “grown in California.” (see photo attached)

Now, I’m confused. Is this the “real thing” as advertised by the NMDA
and just mislabeled? Or has someone appropriated the Hatch name for
not-Hatch peppers?

I chose not to buy any that day as I’m unsure.

Hence why I’m coming to you for advice and guidance.

Are Hatch chiles going to be available in the Northern California Bay
Area? Also, is someone perpetrating a terrible fraud by selling
California grown peppers under the branded Hatch name?

On behalf of my family, we thank you and appreciate any guidance you
would provide.

All my best,

Karen Fayeth

_____

Honestly…I expected no reply.

Imagine my surprise when not only did I receive a VERY nice email from Mr. Lucero thanking me for providing this information, he also told me that he’s taken up the issue with his national Whole Foods buyer (who was cc’d on the email) and also with his shipper, Seco Spice (also cc’d on the email).

Then, and here’s where my mind gets blown, Mr. Lucero indicated that a Mr. Ogaz from Seco Spice would be happy to send me along a box of roasted and peeled chile if I’d be willing to pay shipping.

Holy jumping jehoshaphat!

So I’m currently getting shipping costs from the very kind Mr. Ogaz.

That’s amazing.

I want to publicly thank both Mr. Lucero and Mr. Ogaz for helping a poor New Mexico expat find her way home via the ol’ dinner plate.

By the by, I checked with my friends down in the greater Las Cruces and Anthony metropolitan areas and they know the Ogaz family and Seco Spice and can vouch that they are top notch people and growers.

So here’s a HUGE public thank you and a plug for the good people over at Seco Spice and the NMDA.

: sniffle : It makes me very proud to be a New Mexican.

The Tradition of One Thousand Paper Cranes

Are you familiar with the Japanese tradition of folding one thousand origami paper cranes?

From Wikipedia:

“An ancient Japanese legend promises that anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by a crane, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury. In Asia, it is commonly said that folding 1000 paper origami cranes makes a person’s wish come true.”

I have always been enchanted by this tradition, and many years ago when the daughter of a friend was to be married, I even helped participate in the tradition by helping the bride fold a thousand cranes before her wedding day.

It is an act of diligence, of repetition, of bringing yourself and your heart to each crane.

I was reminded of this tradition today, as I contemplated the creation of this, my one thousandth post here at Oh Fair New Mexico.

Each post is, to me, like a beautiful origami crane, my own work of art constructed from the folds of my brain, the diligence of my psyche, and the creativity of my Muse.

The posts vary widely in topic and scope. I started out as a homesick New Mexican looking to assuage my guilt by talking about home. Three years later, it still holds that space for me, but it’s also grown well beyond, helping me to find my voice and my writing style.

I’m grateful to each and every reader who stops by and gives me their eyeballs for a few minutes. Especially those readers who have been here long enough to remember that The Good Man used to be The Cute Boy.

When I started this blog back in 2007, I hoped I’d be able to make it last for a year. I’ve well exceeded that goal.

So today, as I finish folding my one thousandth crane, I string them all together and let them take flight upon the wind. I’ve cast my cranes to the fates and I send them all out with the best of me on the wing.

Tomorrow, I’ll sit in front of a blank Word document and start again, folding the first crane in the next series of one thousand.

May we all make a beautiful wish that comes true.

Mine already did.




Image source: Hakobyan Hayk’s Blog


The Things I Could Talk About Today

Every morning after I wake up, stumble over the cat and yawn three times, I start to think about my day.

Part of that thinking involves devising a topic for my daily entry to this little ol’ blog.

Over the years, the topics have varied widely from news of the world to news of crevices of my mind. And food. Lots of talk about food.

So I thought quite a bit about what to write about today for this, my 997th post in the life of Oh Fair New Mexico.

I could write more about the really awful fire in San Bruno last night. About the stutter-stall from PG&E in addressing the situation, about the homes and lives lost.

I could go on a rant about the nature of mega-corporations (*coff*BP*coff*) and their inability to respond in crisis situations.

I could even write about the fact that my own employer is a way-too-huge corporation, and sometimes that worries me.

I might even wander out of my local area and riff on that wack-a-doodle “minister” (I use sarcastic quotes on purpose) who is so filled with hate and not a small amount of insanity, that he would endanger the lives of people around the world and American military troops just to get a little publicity for his wack-a-doodle 50 follower church.

I seriously considered discussing the conversation I had this morning with my boss, who is here in the US for three weeks, but who usually lives in London. He is a very kind, gentle and mellow man. He said to me this morning, “I don’t understand this man who wants to burn the Quran. Can you explain it to me?” I couldn’t. It is beyond my grasp.

I could discuss my growing dread regarding the upcoming California governor’s election in my state.

Or my belief that on both sides of the political spectrum, our US Congress has run so far off the rails that I’m unsure how we will ever find our way back.

And I could talk about how, really, this must be end of days because I can’t fathom this world where being so rude, being so self-centered, and being so utterly oblivious are acceptable. And yet, it is.

I even considered discussing how I’m what is considered a very sensitive person. In fact, there are books written on this subject, “The Highly Sensitive Person” and such. And because of that, how my choice to watch a blazing fire on my television all last night is really NOT good for my soul. How tweaked out I am about this whole thing.

Yes. I considered all of those topics and more.

But it’s Friday, and I’m exhausted. Three weeks ago one of my dearest friends died and I still can’t seem to climb up out of that grief.

And watching people lose their homes and their lives last night really did me in.

So today, I’m going to talk about a dog.

My first god dog, a heeler and Chihuahua mix, has been a good dog. She’s deaf and near blind and still very sweet. But she doesn’t run around and chase the ball like she used to.

My second god-dog is an adorable little beast. I’m not good with dog breeds, but I think he is a boxer. He’s a big, muscular dog with a menacing bark.

But he’s the sweetest little pea-pod of a dog I’ve ever known.

And he likes his godmom back.

There now. Let’s not think about the jacked up things in the world.

Look into those eyes. Doncha just feel better basking in the glow of this little bubba of a dog?

I know it makes me feel better.

Everyone just pat a cute dog on the head and love your neighbor and hug your family.

And let’s all have a nice weekend, ok?