Surviving the Summer!

I can't believe it's almost the end of July and I haven't written in 4 months!!  Totally ridiculous. But my life had been fairly insane. I work as an educator at a history museum and it's summer camp time. Basically, every week day from 8:45 am to about 4:15 pm I have 16 to 18 kids I'm responsible for. We run around and do art projects and learn about stuff and basically have an awesome time. But because I'm away from home nearly 12 hours each day that doesn't leave a lot of time for much else.

My house is a total wreck. I wouldn't even have my sister over it looks so bad. My poor cats barely know me when I get home. And my writing suffers. I did finish a book. Jeez louise, it was a month late, but I finished it. A Hunter's Promise is done and actually released. Woo hoo!!  I'm currently working on a new book I have tentatively titled Mated. It has nothing to do with the Promise series, but I really want to finish it. I discovered it while I was looking around my computers. The thing has about 24k and I just stopped working on it. Don't know why I left it, but there you go. So now I'm in the process of updating and rewriting certain parts of it. Once I do that I can finish it. Then I'll have finished 3 books this year. Wooooo!!  Go Gwen.

Inside Looking Out, Pt. 5

Spa Day at the Frazier

If, upon seeing the above title, you imagine the museum I work in sending its poor, tired workers to a relaxing retreat, forget it. Though we may imagine or wish it were so, nowhere but in our dreams is this ever going to happen. The tableau employees, on the other hand, they get treated totally different. If you’ve been here then you know exactly who I’m talking about. If not, they are the life-like figures all around the museum and depict different moments in history. Since they work soooo hard *eye rolling and sarcasm* every day…by standing around, they get the spa treatment a couple times a year.

Someone from exhibits pulls out the special spa tools (brushes, vacuum, and attachments) and goes around pampering our small bunch of prima donnas. Just this week was spa day for the two men on horseback in the Great Hall. As I came out of the Education Center, Anna was gently tending to our gentlemen and their mounts. While she lightly runs what looks like a powder brush over manes and tails, she uses the vacuum to remove the stirred up dust. She never gets too close for fear of sucking the hair itself up. I agree that I can’t think of anything worse than a bald horse. When I stopped to watch her, she informed me, “When I vacuum their faces I think they’re probably really uncomfortable.” That is the second thing I can whole-heartedly agree with. I can’t imagine attempting to stand still while someone sucked up my face with the vacuum.

This gives me pause and I realize no matter how hard I work, I certainly wouldn’t want the spa service perks given to the tableau employees. I’ll just stick with the ability to go home in the evening.

Why My Sister and I are Best Friends

Okay, so I've been MIA for quite a while and there are reasons really . . . really I swear. My part-time job became full-time which I am totally stoked about, but does require more of my time. I'm also blogging for the museum (where I work) now. More than that life has been . . . overwhelming to say the least. I was going to do some kind of fun light-hearted post about . . . something, but this week really hit home why my sister is my best friend and vice versa.

I'll start by saying the last 3 years has sucked . . . out loud. And, yes this has everything to do with the title of this piece. Anyway, I'm a teacher that now has a job I looooooove!! The museum I work at is amazing, but 3 years ago I ended up in a school that made me hate teaching. Now, my friends will tell you, this wasn't the case before. I loved to teach, I couldn't wait to get to school each day, but the 2nd school I ended up in sucked the fun out of everything. To top is off, my dog Lucy (lab-rhodesian mix) got really sick. She was only 5 and I took her to every vet and specialist I could think of. Unfortunately, nothing worked. I came home from a horrible day at school to discover my dog has passed away while I wasn't there.

I was devastated. Thankfully, my sister was there waiting for me. The first thing she did was hug me then she asked me what I wanted to do. I said, "Bury her." I grabbed a shovel and started digging. My mom pulled my sister aside and said, "What are you going to do?" Her reply, "Get a shovel and help her." Now I have to explain to you that Lucy wasn't a small dog. She topped 100# easy so burying her was an enormous task, but my sister was right there with me.

To make a long horrible story, short and horrible over the next 3 years my mom shattered her hip and had to go into a rehab facility, my beautiful cat Fiona (who had been sick for nearly 2 years) died, I fell and broke my leg, my Mom died, and my aunt died. If all this wasn't true I'm sure I'd be laughing by now, but no such luck. All of this leads me to the last month and a half.

My sister's cat Saoirse (Maine coon calico) got really sick. My sister got her when she was a kitten and she helped my sister get through a divorce and 3 moves. She took her to the hospital where they admitted her and where she stayed for 5 days. After coming home, Saoirse really did act like she was feeling better. She was eating everything and drinking, but then the seizures started. Two days ago I got a phone call at 4:40 a.m., it was my sister and she was crying hysterically on the phone. You got it, Saoirse had had a massive seizure and died. I threw on clothes and raced over there where I picked both of them up and brought them both back to my house. My sister wanted to bury Saoirse right next to Lucy and that's what we did. There I was at 5:15 on a Wednesday morning digging a grave in the dark of my back yard for my sister so we could bury her cat.

And this is why my sister and I are best friends. I hope for you, that you have a best friend that will go to the lengths that we go to for each other. And I swear, my next blog, will be funny.

--GC

Win a Kindle Fire!

NaNoNeNow . . . Na Nu Na Nu??

November is apparently the month in which to write a novel. I know, I know, you’re thinking but people write all the time. But it’s like OFFICIALLY the month. Somebody somewhere a billion years ago declared November the national month to write a book. It even has a spiffy sounding title, though for the life of me I can never remember what it is. The whole point of this is to write 50,000 words in a month. I’ve thought about doing it in the past, but never really got on the bandwagon. My reasons are endless, but the main one was I was a classroom teacher and didn’t have the time or energy to put into anything other than teaching. Now, though, I am a museum educator. I’m still a teacher, but don’t have all those pesky teacher things to deal with . . . say for instance, kids. So this year I could do this. I could, but wasn’t planning on it until the phone call.

Last night, my bestie Jessica Jarman called me and told me she was doing this novel in a month deal. The reason? A challenge . . . she was challenged by her daughters! Her thirteen year old tossed it out first and then the eleven year old joined the fray. Hello? Who wants to be whooped up on by two kids? The oldest asked if I was doing it and Jess asked me to join them. To sweeten the pot we decided to throw a reward out for the one who writes the most words. Each week we are donating money toward a Starbucks gift card to the person who writes the most. Oh, baby, I am there!!! I love Starbucks. I live for Starbucks. So who’s going to be writing a novel in a month? This girl is! Hell, I might even write 2, you never can tell with Starbucks as a motivator. So I will say may the best person win, but I already know it’s me. So I guess the
best person will win. Heh!

Inside Looking Out Part 4

Okay, so I was going to whine . . . I mean write all about how hard writing is. But I got sidetracked and decided to share with you that I lead a double life, a secret life. Mild mannered writer by day and by . . . ummm, other day I'm a spy. Yep, that's right I am a spy. I know it's unbelievable and pretty cool, but there you have it. And who you ask am I a spy for? Or should that be whom? Whatever, I am a spy for the Union and the Confederacy. I'm sure you're wondering how the heck I ended up being a spy for two groups that haven't really existed for 150 years. It's all about the history museum. So we're opening our new exhibit entitled Civil War: My Brother, My Enemy and I happened to be riding the elevator with one of our curators. She and I were talking and I told her if she needed help to let me know. That's when she gave me my assignment: Be A Spy. I shrugged and said, "Sure." Heh. We spies are cool like that.

She brought me two replica cypher wheels, one from the Confederacy and the other Union. My task was to create three messages for each one and then put them into code. I didn't want them to be incredibly long since I knew visitors were going to try and break the code, but I didn't want them to be super easy either. It took a good hour or so to come up with them and put them into code. I had one of the people I work with check them all to make sure they were right and whammo I had created 6 secret messages.

So, if you happen to come by the museum and run into those cypher wheels you can see what a writer/spy does during the day. You can also try your hand at decyphering them, but just know I'm watching you. You may not see me, but I can always see you. We spies are tricky like that.

--GC

Inside Looking Out Pt. 3

Have I mentioned that most of us working at the museum are total history geeks? Well if I haven't, let me just say that we are. And we aren't just your typical history geeks we're . . .unique, unique history geeks. To illustrate this point, let me tell you about the "fight" that's currently going on between some of my geeky co-workers. These people will of course remain anonymous to protect their identities, blah, blah, blah. For the sake of the story they shall be dubbed Jodi and Kelly, because those are sooooooo totally random names. Anyway, so Kelly, um wait . . . "Kelly"is one of the absolutely fabu curators that work here taking care of artifacts and creating exhibits. Jodi . . . sorry, "Jodi" is a really good friend and she's also my boss in the education center.

To start out the story, the museum is currently prepping for an exhibit entitled Civil War: My Brother, My Enemy which opens in October. Part of the prep calls for the creation of text panels, which of course contain photos. One of the photos that'll be used is of a man named Major John Davidson whose family lived here in Kentucky. Oh, his picture is to the left so you can get a look at him. Anyway, there's a mock-up of the panel with him on it downstairs across the hall from the curators' office. Next to his photo is a sticky note that reads something like "Back up off him you Ho. He's my man." This was written by Kelly . . . wait "Kelly," apparently in answer to some email that had been sent claiming ownership of said man. Next to the sticky note is another one in the shape of a heart that reads "J.L. + J.D. = True Love." Who, you ask, rendered this scathing reply to the Ho note? Jodi . . . "Jodi" of course. Under all that, is another sticky note that reads: "He doesn't want either one of you. He loves me. M" I'm sure you are wondering who the mysterious M is. It's another person who works in the exhibits area named Monty . . . wait "Monty" who figured he might as well jump in and add his dog to the fight, as it were. Now "Monty" is married with a baby daughter, but that never stopped a history geek before right??

Personally, I think he's handsome, but not worth all the carrying on and threats. And, truly, my man could whoop him any day of the week. To top it off, he is a much higher rank that a mere major. Finally, he truly is desperately in love with me. So notes of congratulation can be sent to me and General Ulysses Grant (left) at my email addy. I'll certainly keep you all apprised of our budding romance and how the "Ho" fight eventually ends.

--GC