Writer's Cozy Cabin Companion Cozy Cabin Journal | |
Updated 06/14/2008 01:07:30 AM
"Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower . . . We will not grieve. Rather find . . . Strength in what remains behind." ~William Wordsworth
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
The Road Not Taken |
Hi, friends. Thanks for visiting my writer's cozy cabin. See you somewhere down the trail. May 18, 2008 New Anthology
Yes, I am a tree hugger. This one looked like it needed some TLC. Yesterday, Hubby and I networked with other authors at the Ozarks Writers League annual May meeting, book signing and fund-raising auction and lunch. After our meeting, I spotted this gorgeous spring flowing down a tree-shaded hillside just a few feet away and couldn't resist the photo op. The new VOICES anthology is out, featuring my short story, THE SHORES OF OBLIVION. What a lovely book. The excitement of seeing my byline and stories in print never goes away. Each time, the joy and delight of holding the published book in my hand feels brand new. I'm so proud to be included among the other gifted authors in this anthology, including New York Times best selling author, Jodi Thomas, who took the time one afternoon at the Oklahoma Writers' Federation Conference (along with best selling author, Debbie Macomber) to mentor this struggling writer and encourage me to "send my stuff out" and get some publishing credits. Friends, read their novels. These authors weave magic words.
Until later, Friend. Lynn April 20, 2008 The Cruelest Month The great poet T. S. Elliot said: April is the cruelest month, breeding I wish I could say this has been a great month so far, but . . . April has been rather cruel this year. Several friends have suffered extreme health crises. Some are fortunate to have survived. All have great faith in Jesus, who walked them through the storm. Things we took for granted a year ago have become luxuries. Oranges (the huge, juicy kind). Avocados. Kraft cheese sticks. Rib eyes. Pecans. Dining out. Long showers. Long drives in the country. These days they're a major investment. For every family, the sacrifice is different, but everyone is suffering in their own way. I get discouraged, but it's essential that we look on the positive side and gaze ahead to happier times to come. There are still a few things in this world that we can enjoy without breaking the bank. If you can add to this list, email me your suggestion. My list: Listen to bird songs. Walk in the woods. Sit by a singing stream. Go on a picnic (even bologna tastes better outdoors). Stroll through the Farmer's Market. Plant fresh herbs. Make herb butter and slather it on a baked potato or pasta. Play your favorite music. Start a journal. Write a poem. Make a scrapbook. Collect your favorite recipes in a binder to share with your friends and family. Cuddle your "best friend" (mine is a red and white Parti cocker spaniel named Peaches, who is perpetually cheerful.) Spread a blanket on the ground and count stars. Hugs and kisses are free. Stock up. If all else fails, make a "thankful" list of everything and everyone for which you are thankful. While we all weather this economic storm, please be good to yourself and kind to those you love. Hey, don't give up, friend. Keep walking down that April road. Hope may be just around the bend. Just out of sight. If you give up, you'll miss it. This poem sustained my grandmother during hard times and continues to inspire me. May it comfort you today. What God Has Promised Words: Annie J. Flint, 1919. Love, Lynn
March 14, 2008 For Women With Wings The great British scholar and novelist, C. S. Lewis, said of grief: "No one ever told me grief felt so like fear." For some women, grief is looking in the mirror, realizing the dreaming girl is gone. In her place stands a woman whose eyes look like her father's when he grew too old to dream. Or like her mother's when she found herself alone. What do we say to the woman in the mirror? Does she know fear tastes like envy? Does she know grief feels like fear? The fear of being forgotten. The fear of being invisible. The fear of growing too old to dream. Does the caterpillar grieve as it weaves its cocoon? For some women, the fingerprints of time weave a cocoon that never opens. Encased in resignation, they wither away, and with them goes the dreaming girl they used to be. Grief anchors them to solid ground when they should be growing wings, reaching for stars, blazing new trails. For others, the pupa stage of change, this resting stage of life with its accompanying wrinkles and lines, little sags here and there, defines a life well lived, a road well traveled, and celebrates other roads yet to be discovered. Friend, look at the woman in the mirror. Tell her she is beautiful. Tell her stars are never too high to hold the wishes of a dreaming woman. Tell her she has earned her wings. Tell her to peel off that cocoon and be radiant, for she is at last a butterfly. To women with wings, Lynn February 19, 2008 Spring's Soft Footprints Six years ago this month, I lost my beloved father to complications of lung cancer and strokes. Six years ago next month, my dear mother-in-law passed away of colon cancer. Six years ago this May, my beautiful best friend lost her battle with breast cancer. What I remember most of that sorrowful spring are those losses, and the crows that filled the trees in our yard every day, dressed in black mourning suits, chasing songbirds away. One would think the very notion of spring would strike a bitter chord in my heart today; yet I welcome another spring with thankfulness, and joy. I am thankful that my father gave me his gift of words, and taught me to build stick houses, and though challenged by his own illness, cooked me a perfect egg custard pie when I needed a perfect egg custard pie. I am thankful that my mother-in-law, a lady of grace and faith, loved me like a daughter and never let me forget it, though at times I was not the easiest person for her to love. I am thankful that my best friend reached out from her own suffering to bring me smiles, laughter, her beautiful cheerful voice, and endless hope when hope seemed impossible. I have walked this earth six years without them, but their gifts of grace, love and strength continue to challenge and empower me. Inspired by them, I get up every morning and thank God that I am able to make my own choices, go my way, pursue my own dreams and try to be a blessing to others. Emily Dickinson said, "Hope is a thing with feathers." I say, joy is a thing with wings. The joy of having been loved by someone who truly made a positive difference in your life adds substance to grief that can, with time, sustain you and enable you to smile again. I've lost a lot of loved ones and friends in recent months, but I am still here. Why, I ask myself each time. Only God knows. Surviving can be the most difficult part of losing someone you love, and perhaps, the best tribute you can give them. I woke up yesterday to the songs of birds singing cheerfully in the elm tree outside my window. For the first time in a succession of winter's sad gray days, the gloomy veil parted to reveal spring's soft footprints. I took Peaches outside for her potty break, and as I stood beneath a towering sugar maple, I spotted new life springing from its bare limbs; frilly lavender buds that promise pale green leaves to murmur in the restless winds of change. With spring come the pollens and toxins that make me cough and wheeze, but still I wait to spot that first blue Johnny jump up, and walk beside golden seas of waving buttercups. Too early, I think. Still time for that killing frost. Yet, tender buds unfold. We have not yet had one real snow, but still I wait for them to bloom. Raising my collar against winter's chill, I dream of the mossy green trails we will walk when the morals burst free of their leafy shrouds. Until then, I will dance everywhere I go. Dance because I live. Dance because I breathe. Dance because I can, praise God. Friend, wherever you are, whenever challenge rises to block your path, I hope you dance. Lynn February 11, 2008 Happy Valentine's Week!
It was a warm, windy Sunday in late January when Hubby took this photo of me on the trail at Beaver, AR. That's Beaver Lake in the background. What a great day! He caught me doing a little sun dance. I'm silly that way. When I feel good, I dance through super markets. In my defense, I don't make a spectacle of myself, like someone in a Broadway play. Heck, sometimes the canned music is pretty snappy. Hubby is much more reserved. That's usually the moment he goes to find the milk. Ha. I guess we balance each other fairly well. Last month, I purchased a Gazelle Power Plus and have been like a hamster on a wheel, working out (pacing myself) at least twenty minutes every day. It's wonderful to be active again. We've enjoyed several dances so far this month, and have several more lined up. I still sit out the faster two-steps, but it's all good. I'm just too darned stubborn to sit still for long. Winter can't make up its mind this year. Most weeks begin with thunderstorms on Monday, proceed to light ice by mid week and end with sunny Sundays. Last week's devastating tornados missed our immediate area. Others in our state suffered heart-breaking losses of life and property. Our prayers are with them. We went to a watch party on Super Tuesday for our former First Lady of Arkansas, Senator Hillary Clinton. Friends, this lady can and will step up to the challenges facing our next president. A world renown and beloved humanitarian and diplomat, she will restore America's heart and soul, and dignity - not only here in the USA, but worldwide. She is a proven champion for human rights, including the right to affordable health care, financial stability, quality education and global security for every American, not just the status quo. Women are fighting our battles in the Middle East. Wives, mothers, daughters and sisters have answered the call to defend this great nation. Friends, at this moment in history, when so many have lost and sacrificed so much, Hillary Clinton has answered America's call. Remember prosperity? Remember honor? Remember hope? Remember the American dream? Please click to visit her website Happy trails. Lynn January 5, 2008 No Time For the Blues I'm one of those people who tend to get melancholy on New Year's Eve. For the past few years, Hubby and I celebrated with friends, music and family fun. Party hats. Horns. Auld Lang Seine. There was no time for the blues. This New Year's Eve, we stayed home. Our dinner was humble by contemporary standards: brown beans, ham and buttermilk cornbread, with sweet, crunchy bread and butter pickles. We could have selected a fancy restaurant, stood in line forever, dined on that evening's special. We considered it. A homemade dinner, cooked together, while Reba McIntire's new Duets CD played in the background, won out over party crowds and revelers. A few minutes before midnight, I went outside and stood under a canopy of stars. I thanked God for the old year and placed the new year in His hands. Hubby found me there, standing in the dark, shivering with cold, as fireworks boomed in the distance. "Hurry," I told him. "I'm talking to God." As the final moments of 2007 ticked away, I was watching Heaven. I shed a few tears for the old year - opportunities and people lost, opportunities and people found. Said prayers for the new. Gave the rest to God. Happy New Year, my friends. May it come with only happy tears. Lynn December 26, 2007 Happy Holidays! We celebrated Christmas day with a winter hike around our city lake. Though it was unseasonably warm at 57 degrees, the 25 mph wind added a brisk nip to the air. We were thankful for our hoodies. Our part of the state seldom has a white Christmas, but we didn't miss snow. The warm sunshine was a welcome visitor after so many gloomy days earlier this month.
I took this shot on the first leg of our hike, a rugged climb along the edge of the lake. At the fork, we hiked the less strenuous south woodland trail to Copperhead Crossing. The return trek took us past this ancient tree.
That's me, standing next to the Arkansas State Champion Black Oak tree. At 14 feet around, it deserves that honor. This is one awesome tree. If it were in my yard, I would climb it and stay a while. Imagine how long it took an oak tree to grow this large. What a privilege to stand beneath its branches. I am so blessed this season. Over the holidays we danced to good music, ate delightful food and enjoyed family parties and good times with our musical and writer friends. Thank you, Jesus. The glory is yours. Bless you, my friends, and those you love. See you somewhere down the trail. Lynn November 20, 2007 On the Trail Again
Praise God from who all blessings flow! New trail photos! Sunday, Hubby and I walked at Devil's Den. I enjoyed the gorgeous Indian Summer weather, taking photos from the dam while Hubby napped on a nearby rock. Tonight, we strolled the square surrounded by a wonderland of lights. The Lights of the Ozarks is a magical display. Carols were playing. Sweethearts were snuggling on benches, perhaps sharing their first holiday. We stopped every now and then to remind ourselves that this energetic "new me" is a true blessing from God. I've lost thirty-six pounds this month and have renewed stamina. It is a truly miraculous transformation. I feel brand new! We went to three dances and a concert last week - and I two-stepped! Indeed. God is so good, and my doctor deserves much credit too. I guess my little fighting spirit can take a bow as well. Friends, life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain. Till next time, Lynn
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart forever. Psalm 73:26 |
 | Journal of Arkansas author, Lynn Carney. (c) 2008 All Rights by Lynn Carney, Designer & Owner Terms of Service Scripts from Dynamic Drive: http://dynamicdrive.com/ Certain graphics, quotations and prose copyrighted by individual artists, speakers and writers. The wonderful graphics on these pages are not for download. If you love them, please visit the sites of these generous graphics designers. Thanks!
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