My Room

Today I thought I'd take you on a tour of one of my favorite places. My room. Not my bedroom. My other room. It used to be Mandie's bedroom, but I claimed it in the summer of 2008, to help me get through my mid-life crisis. (See my blog posted on Nov. 21, 2010 - "M" is for Mid-life Crisis.)

My room is the place where I go to think, write, pray, play and just hang out amongst my things. As Maureen O'Hara put it so well in The Quiet Man, "I must have my things about me."

(Remember, you can click on any of these pictures to get a closeup. Just click your back arrow to get back here for the rest of the tour.)



First stop - my bulletin board. Yeah. There is a bulletin board under there, but it's mostly covered by the butterfly calendar Mandie got me for my birthday last year. She knows what I like.



Next stop, my laptop. I got it for $50 from my local Thrift Store. I actually use it more than you might think. Of course, I can't go online with it (it only has dial-up Internet access), and there's no port for flash drives. But it does have a floppy drive. So I got an old A-drive from the college junk pile, and Zack installed it on our family computer. Now I can work on documents here, save them to a floppy, and upload those files to our other computer to save, print, post... And the other thing this old girl can do is play old computer games. Hey kids, remember The Puzzle Collection? It came with our very first Gateway back in 1997. It includes games like Color Collision, Mixed Genetics, Fringer, and my personal favorite...Rat Poker. Still addicting after all these years.



Here's my little make-up corner. I can blow dry my hair, curl it, and slap on my make up in 10 minutes flat.



This spot on the top of my stereo is pretty special. The framed Matthew passage was a gift from back when I taught Sunday School in Sleepy Eye. Mrs. Halvorson always gave the best gifts. The plate was also a gift. I had seen it at the thrift store and later told my daughter Danica how much I loved it. She snuck off and got it for me. She knows what I like too.



Here's the bookcase Jeff built. The top shelf is pretty much all kids books. I'm saving them for when I have grand kids. The other shelves hold an assortment of reference books, albums, devotionals, and a few novels. I know it's not a very impressive personal library, but the public library is only a few blocks away. Why buy when you can borrow?



On top of the bookcase are a few pictures. The big one is from when my kids were 8, 6, 3, and 2. They all look so sweet and innocent. The photo on the far left is from Mandie and Dan's wedding, a very special day. The picture of the rose was a gift from Jeff's Grandpa, a very special man. The box behind these pictures was made for me by a true artisan, my dad. In it I have assorted memorabilia such as old newspaper clippings, and my collection of old drivers licenses. Do you save yours? You should. They're fun to look at. And back in the corner is an old jug we used back on the farm to bring milk up from the barn. Mom would pour it through a piece of cheese cloth into glass bottles. We may not have had a lot of treats growing up, but we could have as much fresh whole milk as we liked. Yummy!



This shelf is for labeled containers filled with office supplies. I love labeled containers filled with office supplies. You'll actually find quite a few of these throughout the house. We're remodeling our basement family room where the office is supposed to be, so all that stuff had to be moved upstairs. I'll post before and after remodeling pictures once that transformation is complete, hopefully in a month or two.



Here's a little spot that makes me smile. My parents bought the smiley mug for me at a church silent auction back when I was a kid. It's not a real McCoy, but I still treasure it. The card brightened my day one time when I was feeling down. Nothing like kind words from a friend to make you smile. The friendship candle was Mandie's but she didn't want it so I took it. I'm not above taking hand-me-downs, even from my kids.



Here's my window. Unfortunately, the scene from it today is rather colorless, but in summer and fall our backyard is full of color, thanks to my handsome live-in gardener. Look for a blog featuring the fruits of his labor in July or August. Perhaps you've noticed, there are no curtains. I prefer curtain-less windows. I like to see as much of God's beautiful creation (and my studly gardener working up a sweat) as I can. You may also have noticed the butterfly sun catcher. It was a gift from my friend Norma. She knows what I like too. If you're very observant, I'm sure you noticed a few more butterflies in my room. I have several of them hiding in here.




Here's one.




And here are some.




And here.




And here.





And here too.




This concludes the tour of my room.
I hope you've enjoyed your visit.

And now...the Beach Boys.

Linette Writes About Writing

Hello, Readers.

This week I’m going to write about writing.

I like to write. But you know that. I write blogs each week, so I must like to do it. Otherwise why would I? (The answer to that question will soon be revealed. Read on!)

I also like to write stories. If you read my blog a few weeks ago, you know that too. I’m working on a novel…or trying to. I also enjoy writing letters, emails, promo ads for work… pretty much anything.

Whenever I write, or whenever anyone writes, it’s important for them to know who their audience is.

For example, when I write a letter to my mom, I figure Mom’s the one who’ll read it, of course. But I also know she’ll probably let Dad look at it too. It’s a good thing for me to keep in mind.

Or when I write an ad, the first thing I need to know is - who’s this for? Am I trying to get students to shop the Bookstore, or are we trying to appeal to a wider customer base? The words I use, as well as the length, style and subject matter depend on the answers to those questions.

But when I write in my journal, as I do each morning, I can write whatever I want, any way I want. Why? Because other than the Lord who sees all, I know no one else is going to read it but me. And I don’t care if my penmanship is a mess, or if I misspell words. And I certainly don’t have to worry that what I say is too emotional, too trivial, too blunt, or too deep. I can, and do, write about anything. Writing without an audience to worry about is a joy.

Ramona Czer wrote a book about journal writing I really like. It’s called The Tablet of my Heart – Journal Writing for Spiritual Growth. (If you are at all interested in journaling but don’t know how to start, I encourage you to get a copy of this book.) In it she lists 7 reasons to keep a Journal:

1. KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU WANT TO UNDERSTAND YOUR UNIQUUE THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS

2. KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU WANT TO LEARN TO PRAY HONESTLY AND COMPLETELY.

3. KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU WANT TO EXERCISE YOUR POWERS OF OBSERVATION.

4. KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU HAVE STRONG EMOTIONS YOU NEED TO WORK THROUGH.

5. KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU NEED TO DISCOVER YOUR GOALS AND MAKE PLANS TO PURSUE THEM.

6. KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU WANT TO HAVE A RICH MEMENTO TO PASS ON TO YOUR DESCENDANTS.

7. KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU HOPE TO WRITE SOMEDAY FOR OTHERS.

Six of those fit me perfectly. However, I decided a while ago that the 6^th one, KEEP A JOURNAL IF YOU WANT TO HAVE A RICH MEMENTO TO PASS ON TO YOUR DESCENDANTS, wouldn’t work for me. I’d roll over in my grave if any of my descendants got a hold of my journals after I was gone!

Certainly, I will save them, and reread them when I’m feeling nostalgic. I may refer back to them, and even incorporate parts of them into other things I write. But it’s better if they are not shared with all of humanity. No. That’s what my blog is for.

Which brings me to why I blog. Just as my letters to Mom are for Mom (and Dad), and the ads I write at work are for our customers, my blogs are actually a gift I hope to give my grand kids one day; “a rich memento to pass down to my descendants.”

You see, a few years ago I really thought a lot about what I should be writing and why. I know I’m not a phenomenal writer. If I ever finish my novel, it might be entertaining to some, but it won’t win any Pulitzer Prizes. I don’t hold any illusions about that. But I do love to write. And I believe that my love of writing, and whatever ability I have as a writer, are from above. It’s a gift. And as with all gifts, it’s my responsibility not to waste it, but to figure out how best to use it.

I finally decided, after much deliberation, that I wanted to write something I could pass down to my grandchildren, and maybe even their children, and so on, and so on, as long as anyone cared what old Gramma Nettie had to say. At first I called this collection of short musings, Letters from Grandma. I began with the intention to write one letter a month. But as is often the case, great intentions don’t carry you too far. I soon realized the deadline for completing my magnum opus was a bit far off. I don’t even have any grand kids yet. And even if I did, it’ll be years, maybe even decades, before they’re old enough to care to read my collection of stories, advice, and ramblings. With a deadline like that, procrastination soon set in. I needed something to spur me on.

So I formed a writer’s group. I’d been in one before, years ago, and it was extremely helpful. But it was hard to find people to join it. I got a few interested individuals, and we had a couple of meetings, but eventually even those people became too busy, and my writer’s group was no more.

Then one morning, without much thought, I typed “blog” in the search box on my computer screen. One of the ladies in my short-lived writer’s group said she had a blog. I wondered if having one of my own would help motivate me to write. Within an hour this site was up and running. I was a blogger, just like that.

My goal was to post once a week, and except for the last week in December when I took a little Christmas vacation, I’ve kept it. But that doesn’t really surprise me. I like to write, remember? What surprises me is that… wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles… people are reading my blog! I honestly didn’t expect that. And whenever it happens and people mention it or post a comment, I’m just amazed. Not only am I a blogger, I’m a blogger with followers. Who’dah thunk?

But, I still want this blog to be a gift to my descendants. It’s for them…my future grandsons and granddaughters. They may just be a figment of my imagination now, but I trust they’ll arrive one day. And when they grow up, and they’re old enough, I’ll give a copy of this blog and all the others to them… in a big fat 3-ring binder…or more likely, on a high-tech flash drive of some sort. However it’s delivered, I hope they’ll treasure it, as much as I treasure them, because I know I will.

That doesn’t mean you, my friend, family member, or stranger from 2011, can’t read and enjoy my blogs too. I’m glad you are. I’m thrilled, actually. Cuz, you know what? Journaling without an audience is a joy, but writing to an audience is even better.

Thanks for reading.

Linette Has a Dream

Daylight Saving Time began yesterday. Whether you’re a fan of DST or not, I think it’s here to stay. Experts say this practice of setting our clocks ahead one hour in the spring and back again in the fall increases traffic safety, reduces crime, and gives us more daylight hours for after-work activities.

I’ve always preferred springing ahead one hour to falling back one. But that’s because I am and always have been a morning person.

Benjamin Franklin who discovered the benefits of DST while on a trip to Paris and brought the practice back with him to the states, was a morning person too. Perhaps his most famous quote is this: “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” He should have added, “…and ridiculed.”

Social norms say going to bed early is for losers. The accepted thing to do is to stay up well past midnight and sleep in until noon, if you can. The discrimination we early-to-bed-early-to-risers have to deal with from the night-owl-morning-zombie-types is not only unfair, but unfounded. You get just as much sleep if you go to bed at 10:00 pm and wake up at 5:00 am, as you do if you go to bed at 1:00 am and sleep until 8:00 am. Yet throughout my life I’ve had to put up with insults pertaining to my sleep patterns. First from my older brothers, then from my college roommates, and now from my own children!

Why does it have to be this way? I say it doesn’t. Morning people – unite! Stand with me now, and defend our rights to an early repose…for...

I have a dream… that my future grandchildren will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the hour of their bedtime but by the content of their character.

If you agree, say: “Amen!”

…or perhaps: “Good Night!”

Linette’s Secret Obsession Revealed

Due to the fact that the college where I work is now on spring break I have found myself with an 11-day vacation of sorts. I have decided to use this time to catch up on several projects: spring cleaning, family memory albums, and writing my novel.

Yes. It’s true. I’m working on a novel. I call it “Emily.”

It’s a dangerous thing for a writer to work on a novel. In order to do it properly, one must put aside reality and totally immerse oneself in the lives of people who only exist in one’s imagination. It may not surprise you to learn, this sort of detachment with reality comes easy to me. Indeed, I’ve been an avid daydreamer my entire life.

I’ve never told anyone this before, but as a young teen I took daydreaming to the extreme. It was, for a time, my secret obsession.

I’d lock myself in my room and lay on my bed imagining stories. Sometimes I’d actually get up and act them out, whispering all the lines. Most of my stories back then were about me in some other idyllic universe where I played the part of the damsel in distress who needed to be saved from some horrible fate. Other times I became the unexpected heroine, coming to the aid of others just in the nick of time. It was always exciting, always fun, but always secret. I could never tell anyone what I was doing. Because as much as I enjoyed letting my mind take me away from my reality, deep down I knew it wasn’t right. I wasn’t a damsel, and I wasn’t a heroine. I was just me. Linette. As much as I enjoyed pretending to be someone else, eventually, I told myself it had to stop, and I gave it up.

But now it’s Emily and not me who will play the part of innocent victim and/or unexpected heroine, as the chapter may be. And it’s just as exciting and fun as ever. My goal is to “fix and finish Emily” by my 46th Birthday this August. After that, who knows. I might send her off to publishers, or maybe self-publish. Maybe I’ll post the story here, one chapter a week! Right now I don’t even care. I’m just enjoying the journey.

Some people build birdhouses. Other people paint. I’m writing a fun, wholesome, Christian romance novel appropriate for young adults or modest Christian women. And I’m not ashamed to say it. No more hiding behind locked doors.

So, if you happen to see me staring off into space with a faraway look in my eye, don’t be surprised. I’m just working on my novel.