Monthly Archives: May 2016

What Excellent Boiled Potatoes

This weekend was one that had been planned far in advance. Ya’ll know my friend Hannah Prewett, who went with me to Mount Hermon. When we were there, we were reacquainted with Rosemary E. Johnson, a slip of a young lady who writes high fantasy. She was with us for the midnight rebel-rousing and we knew we had to get together again.

the girls

That’s Rosemary, Hannah and me.

 And a better interpretation of me:

sillyme

We headed up to a cabin in the mountains. This particular cabin is close to my heart because I’ve been going there for twenty-three years. There is no electricity, one landline, no cell service, no internet and the running water comes from a spring. There have been some upgrades over the years and we were set to head on up, generator on hand to power our laptops.

cabin

This is the cabin Hub’s great-grandpa build when he was 72! (with an addition from a decade ago)

 

Hannah and I live near one another already, but Rosemary drove to meet us. My car was loaded with bags, groceries and friends who were glad to be together again. We arrived to a warm cabin, courtesy of my wonderful Hubs, who’d come up earlier to make sure everything was ready for us.

 

After an abbreviated tour, we downed our dinner and plugged in the laptops.

table

The set-up. Yes, that’s a vintage yellow, laminate table with matching chairs.

 

There was much brainstorming and writing, laughing and multiple discussions on mermaid attributes, dragons and why something matters to a 96-year-old woman. We stayed up past our bedtimes and ate healthy food (until I bought a candy bar on a store run—I will bring more chocolate next time).

 

Saturday brought a breakthrough for all of us. I finished a chapter that needed a certain something, something and plotted an “impossible task.”

 

Sunday, we headed down to Whitmore, Grace Community Church, where my friend John Rodrigues is the pastor. It was nice to worship with friends.

 

We’re already planning for another getaway. This time, I’ll bring a potato masher to avoid Mr. Collins’ comments: “What excellent boiled potatoes.” Some exemplary vegetables will be on the menu next time.


Grumpy Super Heros: Civil War

As a young girl, I looked for ways to earn money because I had an agenda. Stuck in a small town (and I mean small…there were four in my 8th grade class), I lived for the new comic books that came into the equally tiny general store. My first job as the church janitor at twelve funded my subscription to The Uncanny X-Men. So it’s not a far cry to say I love comics made into films…especially ones by Stan Lee.

 

This weekend, I headed to Captain America: Civil War. I know the special effects were going to be good—they had to live up to the other Avenger movies and stand-alone movies. Truth be told, I didn’t follow the Avengers growing up. I just want a good story…a good, alternate universe filled with alien and technology goodness. Captain_America_Civil_War_poster

Here’s my own rendition of the plot: Super hero friends get grumpy and fight with cool powers because they each believe they are right and the others are wrong.

 

Sounds like a rumble during a kindergarten recess, right? Minus the whole, “I have laser cannons on my hands!” “Well, I have ninja assassin skills!”

 

Ya’ll need a juice box and nap mats.

 

However juvenile the plot basis, there are some serious, underlying adult themes: What happens to friendships when friends can’t see eye to eye? Adult or teenager, we all have our rules and beliefs—our lines in the sand. When someone you admire pushes your back into a wall, how will you react? (without telepathy and vibranium-steel alloy shield thingy).

 

While I liked the movie overall, it wasn’t my favorite Marvel flick. There are a few plots holes, but I’m picky about my Stan Lee-ness. But countering the missteps are the inevitable jokes and onion-layered plot—the fine balance between a friend’s opinion and a misconception.

 

This isn’t a movie for anyone looking for Pride and Prejudice. Lots o’ fighting. A bit of swearing (baby Spidey shouldn’t have cussed, but that’s my humble opinion). More fighting and shooting and crashing thing-a-ma-gigs. Crude comments. Aaaand, more fighting.

 

Huzzah to the addition of Ant Man to the group! His lines were some of my favorites. Wasn’t too jazzed on Spider Man barging in, or his ability to seemingly age backwards. Black Panther was the favorite of both Thing 1 and 2. Yep, took my spawn to the movie since they’ve seen every other Avenger and X-men based picture. What can I say? I raise them to be nerdly.

 

And it wouldn’t be a real Marvel film unless there are TWO clips in the credits. It’s so disappointing when people get up before the very end. Seriously people, you need to chill and wait it out.popcorn


Ten Things…

The day when you run out of ideas and know that you should post on your blog? Today is my day. So in honor of this moment, we will play the game I sometimes have to employ at the end of my Sunday School class–you know, when the service runs long and the children are hungry and antsy? They are allowed to ask me one question. Here are ten random facts about me:

 

  1. I have multiple Christmas trees in my home. Yup…one of “those” people. I even have multiple decorations in case I feel like changing the house from one year to the next. I’ve tried to donate/throw away some of my Christmas storage tubs, but I’m just not ready. Each year, I tell myself, “Next year.”
  2. Acting my age is overrated. As a high school senior, I was voted eternal freshman and I still strive to live up to the title. Just ask Thing 1 and she will roll her eyes in agreement. But, I love how old I am because there is wisdom in the years gained.
  3. I taught myself to snap with both hands because someone told me I couldn’t do it as a kid. And to punctuate my point, I learned to write with my left hand too, although I’m out of practice now.
  4. My favorite color is green.
  5. I live next door to my mom and dad. In the country. An few acres apart. More like kinda next door, with trees and bushes we planted so we aren’t staring into each others back yards. Because that would be plain weird.
  6. Teaching first through third grade Sunday School is magical to me. They come in barely able to scrawl their names on the paper and by the time they leave, they can help the littles and recite the ten commandments using signs. Also, they have active imaginations and ask me questions like: If you could have your hair be any color, what would it be? Silly kids, I’m blond on purpose.
  7. Pastor’s kid.Not the type from Footloose.
  8. I prefer cats over dogs. This doesn’t mean that I don’t like dogs. Currently, there are three canines in the Bennett house, outnumbering the two kitties. There is something about a cat’s attitude I like more. And, they are more self efficient. I could share stories about that, but it would probably cause gag reflexes.
  9. My favorite meal is homemade roasted turkey and mashed potatoes. No gravy. Ick.
  10. I wish I could wear contacts, but my eyes are shaped like a football.

 

There you have it. Ten useless bits of information. Anyone else stubborn enough to learn how to be ambidextrous?


There’s A Fly On My Windshield

My day zigged when I thought it should zag. That moment when you see the email of your dreams in the inbox and you know:

fangirl

One magical click later and it was all floating away, like an errant flip flop in the ocean waves.

cry

 

Then the next email hits and I’m so overwhelmed with happiness. You see, I’m headed into a new adventure as a film reviewer for PURSUE magazine! Happy dance! I’m so new that my bio isn’t even up yet. 🙂

 

real boy

 (I’m a real author…almost…)

Still, the ebb and flow of a single day is nothing new to me or you. Just wanted to toss out a word of encouragement to you, my reader; some days you’re the fly and then you’re the windshield, within thirty seconds of one another. This in no way means that I didn’t mourn a missed opportunity or have a moment of silence for a rejection. But I didn’t wallow in the self-doubt and pity (although it’s squishy and warm sometimes). It’s not the first nor the last rejection I’ll have.

 

Take a breath, thank God for the opportunity and move on. Learn, relearn and grow. Put yourself out on the line again.

 

Look at me, all preachy today. Excuse me while I fall off my soapbox.


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