tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71568422520354985002024-03-13T03:19:02.280-04:00Katrina Kittle's BlogKatrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.comBlogger548125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-35057115514566466052014-07-06T09:52:00.000-04:002014-07-06T09:52:41.132-04:00#427 Moxie the Dog<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #427:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This Dog's Face</b></span></div>
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This is Moxie. Moxie lives with my wonderful veterinarian friend, Dr. Kathy (the same lucky woman who has Humphrey!). Moxie's face makes me happy. Everything about Moxie makes me happy.<br />
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Moxie is a bully, as in she is a Staffordshire terrier and bulldog mix, but she doesn't have a bullying bone in her body. She is sweet and shy and even a wee bit timid at first, but once you pass approval, she's a lovebug. She is sometimes called "hippo" and even "piggy" and, yes, she resembles both a bit (she's about as wide as she is tall). The world is a better place with this gentle soul in it. <br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-49246513878805513172014-06-27T06:00:00.000-04:002014-06-27T06:00:01.025-04:00#426: Goat's Beard<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #426:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Goat's Beard</b></span></div>
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Now, here, I'm specifically referring to the <i>plant</i>. Not the beard on an actual goat...although it strikes me that the beards on actual goats are absolutely delightful and would be a very worthy reason to be happy of their own. Hmm. Storing that thought away...</div>
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But, nope, I meant the plant, which I have in my yard and which is in resplendent bloom at the moment (or, well, it <i>was</i>, before three days of monsoon-like rain battered them flat). I really love plants with quirky-but-fitting names like this. Like <a href="http://katrinakittle.blogspot.com/2011/07/8-foxglove.html"><span style="color: blue;">foxglove</span></a> (which was Reason to Be Happy #8). Or gooseneck strife. Or hens and chicks.What are some others?</div>
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Anyway...this plant makes me smile.</div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-23211665739168600302014-06-20T06:00:00.000-04:002014-06-20T06:00:00.335-04:00The Gardening/Writing Connection<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Gardening/Writing Connection</b></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How Gardening Connects to Writing Reason #1</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEc36UJ4MWRDHR01tUTJizkPLb-e4DFcNt0lGhph9XiiRNkdv0Fp2ytUBLwfkSvzCvRvwn1dBoXzdOa9OFPpdJc1ZwzM71bc8WRsrNuDTGrlYezJZpq6kyC7AySTp_X-K_Ep0yBd9R2s/s1600/photo(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEc36UJ4MWRDHR01tUTJizkPLb-e4DFcNt0lGhph9XiiRNkdv0Fp2ytUBLwfkSvzCvRvwn1dBoXzdOa9OFPpdJc1ZwzM71bc8WRsrNuDTGrlYezJZpq6kyC7AySTp_X-K_Ep0yBd9R2s/s1600/photo(3).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When I first started gardening, I did it as I do
most things: I plunged in headfirst. I tend not to do things half way. My
gardening is a little obsessive…friends tease me I have a problem. I used to
worry about the time spent in the garden away from my pages. I felt guilty
neglecting my novel in progress. But now I understand that the gardening
actually feeds the writing in many ways. The most obvious way my garden
enriches my writing is that it gives me something relatively mindless to do
with my hands—which is exactly when the ideas flow. If I’m trying to figure out
what happens next in the story or how to resolve a problem in a scene, I can’t
just sit at the desk and expect the answers to come. The ideas come when I’m
driving or running or mowing or washing dishes…or gardening. I never listen to
music or the news in my garden. I like my mind open and free, while my hands
are engaged. Many a scene has been created in my garden.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But beyond that most crucial gift, the gardening
process is, in fact, quite similar to the writing process. Every step of the
process in one has a parallel in the other.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The first step is to have an idea, right? It
actually makes me laugh a bit when people ask me at signings and readings,
“Where do you get your ideas?” (as if they want me to name a website or secret
store). I don’t mean to be flippant, but I get my ideas from keeping my eyes
open as a human being on this planet. I have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so many</i> ideas queued up in my brain (kind of like a Netflix queue,
complete with the “move to top” option) that I will never be able to write them
all in this lifetime. That is exactly how I feel when I look at seed and garden
catalogues (or worse, when I am actually in the store and end up buying
everything I want) “I want this, and this, and ooh, look at that! I need two of
these, one in every color…”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So, inside, my brain kind of looks like this: </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcQWxqq4E51dJHuu2HRQDuEXBQIygN8IIICZrHpatNkzpCYdCceFC6Pm0rZ6cckQt6fukz10lz7amFO-LmLHNOG7fCToD-WIt7fvjtJX18Yps-Of2yNys-9dLuO22GriDaJQxDFi57qs/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcQWxqq4E51dJHuu2HRQDuEXBQIygN8IIICZrHpatNkzpCYdCceFC6Pm0rZ6cckQt6fukz10lz7amFO-LmLHNOG7fCToD-WIt7fvjtJX18Yps-Of2yNys-9dLuO22GriDaJQxDFi57qs/s1600/photo.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span>But then, you have to eventually pick an idea and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">focus</i>. You have to look at your space
and decide which plants will actually thrive in your zone and soil and
sun/shade conditions. I don’t have room for every single plant I’d like to
grow, so I have to be picky. </div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And just like with an idea for a novel, once I choose, I have to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">commit</i>.</span></div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-3413089386432041732014-06-09T12:15:00.000-04:002014-06-09T12:15:09.038-04:00#425: Getting Strawberries Before the Squirrels Do<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Reason to Be Happy #425:</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Getting Strawberries Before the Squirrels Do</span></b></div>
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I love picking fresh strawberries from my wonderful garden. They are small and sweet, and such a deep red color all the way through (totally unlike those giant storebought strawberries that are white and flavorless inside). Many of you know I have an ongoing battle with the squirrels in my yard (and occasionally a rabbit and a raccoon). I don't mind sharing, but it kills me to find a perfect berry with one bite gnawed out of it. Gah! (And the raccoons are especially prone to leaving the half-eaten berries all over the yard: on my shed roof, in the bird bath, on top of my mailbox, etc. Little vandalizing jerks!). Last year, I had an abundance of berries...and discovered a little snake in my strawberry bed. I was grateful to the snake, who no doubt helped keep some of the squirrels and bird away. I haven't seen the snake yet this year, but the animals seem to have the memory of him (or her? how do you sex a snake???) and I am enjoying bowls of berries! Ahh...nothing like walking out there barefoot in the morning and picking breakfast.</div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-62412496057325718802014-05-05T10:35:00.002-04:002014-05-05T10:35:43.889-04:00#424: The First Trail Ride of the Spring<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #424:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The First Trail Ride of the Spring</b></span></div>
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There's something so lovely about any view from a horse's back. After our brutal, relentless winter, it's so fun to get outside and amble through the fields and woods, hearing hoof beats and the swish of tails, and reveling in the luxurious rocking motion of a relaxed, walking horse. My friend Laura Burris took this photo while riding with her friend Alison. I love how the horses are still shedding their fuzzy winter coats. Early spring rides are usually mighty muddy...but well, well worth it.<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-89263008546709589582014-03-28T06:00:00.000-04:002014-03-28T06:00:02.598-04:00#423: Finishing a First Draft!!!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #423:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>FINISHING A FIRST DRAFT!!!</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrHyEcJOBVa1N2ynxPuqUo-MXww96xolHTBwt6uPA3drsGLsGb6UmZP68otw_-1yV4BEOAEdwQa3NihQYKpRYFopq7pqrU6-c6AqEaFbJUW1S18xI69Vkhn9Edi9_Zyhb8P-bf7o-4IH4/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrHyEcJOBVa1N2ynxPuqUo-MXww96xolHTBwt6uPA3drsGLsGb6UmZP68otw_-1yV4BEOAEdwQa3NihQYKpRYFopq7pqrU6-c6AqEaFbJUW1S18xI69Vkhn9Edi9_Zyhb8P-bf7o-4IH4/s1600/photo.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Ahhh...The first draft of a novel always feels to me like luring a feral creature into a corral. It's tricky, tenuous work that requires consistency, diligence, and trust. Happy to report that yesterday I shut the gate on the corral. That feral creature has been caught. Now, the work begins to tame it...but first some celebration of the milestone and some time away from it to give objectivity. I thought about tidying up my space to take a nice, cleaned up "just printed" picture, but thought, "Nah." This is what it really looks like: Notes everywhere. Ghirardelli chocolate egg wrappers. Coffee cup. Messy house. Plants that need watered.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">You can always make it better later. First you have to make it exist. Making it exist feels really, really good and the feeling never gets old (because the process never feels certain).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: small;">Doing a little happy dance! </span></span></div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-24978960512379032802014-03-26T06:00:00.000-04:002014-03-26T06:00:01.904-04:00#422: Writing in Hotel Rooms<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #422:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Writing in Hotel Rooms</b></span></div>
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I don't know why, but I write like crazy in hotel rooms. I feel inspired and I get a lot of words on the page. Maybe it's because I don't have to worry about anything else—I'm not at home where other tasks might distract me, and no matter how lovely a hotel room is, it's essentially just a room. I don't question it—I just embrace it. When my fella had to be out of town for a work conference and invited me along, I jumped at the chance to spend some days in a hotel room alone while he was at the conference. I told the front desk not to service our room, I fired up the coffee maker, and I got SO. MUCH. DONE. I'm really nearing the end of this draft and it feels so good!<br />
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Perhaps the only thing that makes writing in a hotel room better, is getting to eat cake straight out of the box while I'm doing it. This beautiful cake came from the wonderful women at <b><a href="http://thurberhouse.org/"><span style="color: blue;">Thurber House</span></a> </b>where <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7156842252035498500#editor/target=post;postID=4364109580117066783;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=6;src=postname"><b><span style="color: blue;">I spent the month of October</span></b></a>, and where I began the draft of this same novel (which seems very fitting). I took a writing break Friday and left the hotel (gasp!) to go visit them. Left feeling inspired (but in a food coma). They sent the leftover cake for me to share with my fella.<br />
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Well, they even included little plates and forks, so we could eat it in a civilized manner, but I forgot to include a knife, so in a plot twist frenzy, needing sugar, I had to resort to eating the cake with a fork right out of the box. I highly recommend this the next time you're in a writing marathon. I made <i>huge</i> progress on the draft and now safely report that I <i>will</i> finish this draft by the end of the month (and, yes, I know that's less than a week away. It's gonna happen). I'm telling you: cake.</div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-80188662593943292302014-03-19T06:00:00.000-04:002014-03-19T06:00:02.513-04:00#421: The Saguaro Cactus<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #421:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Saguaro Cactus</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was recently lucky enough to leave the bitter, brutally long Ohio winter and spend some sunny days in Arizona. I became quite a fan of the Saguaro.<br /></span></span></div>
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Known as one of "the defining plants of the Sonoran Desert," it is found <i>only</i> there—in Arizona, and the parts of California and Mexico that the Sonoran Desert touches. They can live to be 150-200 years old, and can grow to be between 40-60 feet tall.<br />
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They have one main tap root that goes down a couple feet, but the majority of their roots spread out like a maze (as wide as the plant is tall) only about 3 inches deep, in order to get as much rainwater as they can. Can you tell I totally geeked out about these cool old guys? If you're geeking out, too, check out Science Friday's cool blog,<br />
"<a href="http://www.sciencefriday.com/blogs/03/29/2013/11-things-you-didn-t-know-about-saguaro-cacti.html"><span style="color: blue;">11 Things You Didn't Know about Saguaro Cacti.</span></a>"<br />
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Here's my goofy fella bonding with his new century-old buddy. Aren't they both cute? <br />
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The Saguaro has gorgeous white flowers in the spring and red fruit in the winter. I took all the photos except for the red fruit one (above). That comes from a really cool Kuriositas blog you should check out called "<a href="http://www.kuriositas.com/2012/01/saguaro-cactus-and-its-greedy-guests.html"><span style="color: blue;">The Saguaro Cactus and Its Greedy Guests</span></a>." It's chock full of amazing photos of birds, bats, owls, and other creatures making use of the Saguaro.<br />
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This last photo is of a giant Saguaro for sale at a garden center we visited. It was only $6,500. Um…I'll take two! I'm known for being out of control with my garden…<br />
but, alas, I doubt it would thrive in Ohio. <br />
The world is just so full of cool stuff.</div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-55173169001417172252014-02-19T06:00:00.000-05:002014-02-19T06:00:01.262-05:00#420: That Cheerful Drip Drip Drip of Icicles<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #420:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Cheerful Drip Drip Drip of Icicles</b></span></div>
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Sure, it's a happy enough sound. But their pitter patter means winter <i>is </i>thawing...</div>
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...and that spring <i>will</i> come. </div>
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The first photo was taken by the talented Carol Tierney. The second is from my back porch, featuring my neighbor's leaning pine (that tree top <i>touched the ground</i> in 2012's ice storm, but it's resilient and stood back up. I always say it wants to be in my garden, and is trying to sneak over).</div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-74847851916656373292014-02-14T06:00:00.000-05:002014-02-14T06:00:00.986-05:00#419: When My Cat Sits Like This<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #419:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>When My Cat Sits Like This</b></span></div>
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No further explanation is really necessary.</div>
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Happy Friday!</div>
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He's my Sexy Valentine!</div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-8465873450104699672014-02-05T06:00:00.000-05:002014-02-05T06:00:02.178-05:00#418: Fixing Your Mistakes<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to be Happy #418:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Fixing Your Mistakes</b></span></div>
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Anyone who has ever waited tables will appreciate this one.</div>
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So, a little backstory first: A couple weeks back, my talented writer friend and Capricorn sister <a href="http://sharonshort.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Sharon Short</span></a> and I went to <a href="http://www.thewineloftdayton.com/"><span style="color: blue;">The Wine Loft</span></a> to celebrate our birthdays. We had a lovely dinner, festive cocktails, and decadent desserts—all brought to us by a fun, attentive server. When I paid my bill with a credit card, I made sure I left her a nice tip.</div>
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We left. The week got busy. It was over a week later when I was dealing with the receipts that had accumulated in my wallet. Imagine my mortification when I realized that the night of our birthday dinner, I had accidentally taken both the customer copy <i>and</i> the store copy of my credit card bill. I mentioned my horror to a friend. She said, "They swiped it. You got charged. Don't worry." "But, no," I protested. "The server has no idea I gave her a tip. As far as she's concerned, I totally stiffed her." This bugged me. Bigtime. Now, sure, I heard immediately that tiny little voice in my head suggesting that "Oh, well. No big deal. That's just a little bonus for you," but I slapped that little voice quiet. It was <i>not</i> okay. As soon as I could, I drove over to the Wine Loft. My server was not there (fortunately, her name was on the receipt), so I left a card with a note explaining what had happened. I included her tip (plus interest) in the card. The other servers listened to my story and kept saying, "That is so nice of you." Sure, it's <i>nice</i>, but it was also <i>right</i>. I made a mistake. It felt important to me to <i>fix</i> it. </div>
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Later that night, I received an email from the server thanking me and telling me "You made my day." She remembered me and my friend. (See? I would've been remembered for the <i>wrong reasons!</i>) And here's the deal: the tip wasn't all that much. It wasn't like I'd had a $100 dinner or anything…but it felt so good to do the right thing. I probably felt better making it right than she did receiving the tip. That's important to remember. Fixing your mistakes isn't just the right thing to do; it can actually make you feel happy. </div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-84308455814870022822014-01-30T06:00:00.000-05:002014-01-30T06:00:00.792-05:00#417: The Color Red in Winter<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #417:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Color Red in Winter</b></span></div>
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Ah, winter in Ohio... The landscape can be gray and bleak, and folks get prone to the blues and put on their cranky pants. Even though the cold has been relentless, you have to admit the snow <i>is</i> beautiful (and the landscape much prettier with it). And there's nothing more dramatic and stunning than the color red against the snow (and that is <i>not</i> the start to some gory horror story, I promise). Many of my friends are talented photographers, so I gathered some of their shots of gorgeous flashes of red. I hope they cheer you as much as they do me.<br />
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This gorgeous shot is by Scott Ross.</div>
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The next three were taken by my talented writer friend, Erin Gross. (And that's her son, aka Tank, who is among my favorite children on the planet).<br />
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The wreath above, and the final two, were taken by Carol Tierney, whose photos never fail to brighten my days! Thanks, everyone! Please post your own in the comments—I'd love to see more!<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-43641095801170667832014-01-28T06:00:00.000-05:002014-01-28T06:00:00.507-05:00#416: Uninterrupted Time to Write<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #416:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Uninterrupted Time to Write</b></span></div>
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This is truly the greatest gift you can give a writer! Back in October, I was so honored to be the John E. Nance Writer-in-Residence at the wonderful <a href="http://www.thurberhouse.org/"><span style="color: blue;">Thurber House</span></a> in Columbus, Ohio. A whole month to immerse myself in my current work-in-progress....ahh...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKm5FDRVgp7OiM-e4FG1Z-yVrfgoeIf0CfOemhSSUUBpyss28C-c1m3EIJLBAVY3BlWqvVAr1mJR2v5gYfhcJsrDaowp8qTJazQbF96qZ6NuRGPuwKuqAmSVPc23XspG4Fdg2xGsk8Tn4/s1600/photo+copy+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKm5FDRVgp7OiM-e4FG1Z-yVrfgoeIf0CfOemhSSUUBpyss28C-c1m3EIJLBAVY3BlWqvVAr1mJR2v5gYfhcJsrDaowp8qTJazQbF96qZ6NuRGPuwKuqAmSVPc23XspG4Fdg2xGsk8Tn4/s1600/photo+copy+6.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wonderful Thurber House.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
I had a great time and was incredibly productive there! And they let me bring Joey Cat with me!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://thurberhouse.wordpress.com/2013/11/20/nance-writer-in-residence-thurber-house-from-the-perspective-of-katrina-kittle/"><span style="color: blue;">Read my blog about the experience</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to get details about the staff, what I worked on, and, of course, the ghosts.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRslqAXS7CfbbxvUWXlL_BpQSv9XKGN1apZnLESMMI8HaWD1a4UG5dAH14M8w_QI7kO9QnRuaVIQq_c3BMzJLHP-RCGxpLBeiIAEols0hvWPeAOrU2ZC08rHbUICsCzR5zQvCnP1tkmXA/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRslqAXS7CfbbxvUWXlL_BpQSv9XKGN1apZnLESMMI8HaWD1a4UG5dAH14M8w_QI7kO9QnRuaVIQq_c3BMzJLHP-RCGxpLBeiIAEols0hvWPeAOrU2ZC08rHbUICsCzR5zQvCnP1tkmXA/s1600/photo.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The steps up to my attic apartment.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopTuLITdqAM8ww4oXO_hc6Kc_6y_kacXAw0GhiONmMlRN0bteZZ07Ui-SZdTLuoKdwwn7zFVJVqnfkIoerCE4_d5yVHThrYqOL1kH83M5VY_CxnAstTCM35h4zxQbvZrDxHAgZh4SsoM/s1600/544079_10151942188452930_1055716528_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopTuLITdqAM8ww4oXO_hc6Kc_6y_kacXAw0GhiONmMlRN0bteZZ07Ui-SZdTLuoKdwwn7zFVJVqnfkIoerCE4_d5yVHThrYqOL1kH83M5VY_CxnAstTCM35h4zxQbvZrDxHAgZh4SsoM/s1600/544079_10151942188452930_1055716528_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My "office" on nice autumn days.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF01ewbSp8WNcuz_GXznmntNtg66I1AgjDMDsfO1uNKYi2CJfW9pa2E0gX_lO-ZFuU4Plx7TAl1vbo1J2B6CKHST0h6gyXzf2iTph3bGeXQHVRQAiLdUsEBZvaUSEGX1smvT9vCT0qv3U/s1600/1379650_526970400714330_1972838035_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF01ewbSp8WNcuz_GXznmntNtg66I1AgjDMDsfO1uNKYi2CJfW9pa2E0gX_lO-ZFuU4Plx7TAl1vbo1J2B6CKHST0h6gyXzf2iTph3bGeXQHVRQAiLdUsEBZvaUSEGX1smvT9vCT0qv3U/s1600/1379650_526970400714330_1972838035_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My office in the wee hours and late at night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3El7bS8G9yIk0lFC7i-PY7XyDBYcfohPLtXTu5LsOQTObNwnjItjoDaXztj0dgKmVZBbtfzUr_XR_o8Z-76Z1rrNKb1C0crH4rp6FsX7ZY_hlxVt492klggJHuMrh7Amcl93mqrgSgo/s1600/photo+copy+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3El7bS8G9yIk0lFC7i-PY7XyDBYcfohPLtXTu5LsOQTObNwnjItjoDaXztj0dgKmVZBbtfzUr_XR_o8Z-76Z1rrNKb1C0crH4rp6FsX7ZY_hlxVt492klggJHuMrh7Amcl93mqrgSgo/s1600/photo+copy+6.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joey kept watch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrTjFNWaTI2IWXDMP5RbMJpqFmtJ_gHKms6huEt5NFY0dhBWkCLEKorQngaeylm7u-B8k2EhKqxqrdR29yXiodTHBSoojLYyo7Ax78vVdr8lJcQKdzeEuMe7GBLKDYByVAMLj7s3K4W4A/s1600/photo+copy+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrTjFNWaTI2IWXDMP5RbMJpqFmtJ_gHKms6huEt5NFY0dhBWkCLEKorQngaeylm7u-B8k2EhKqxqrdR29yXiodTHBSoojLYyo7Ax78vVdr8lJcQKdzeEuMe7GBLKDYByVAMLj7s3K4W4A/s1600/photo+copy+7.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joey wandered the halls with his ghost friends.</td></tr>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-70401414012975120282014-01-22T06:00:00.000-05:002014-01-22T06:00:01.465-05:00#415: The way fresh snow crunches under your boots<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #415:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Way Fresh Snow Crunches </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Under Your Boots </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDk5SVcOsTuCu8jvpk2Hhu9tFhJo7p0USOGlw4ldQ4E1etgR_wmKi-7ffSQOuslSunoXi7SM-uJb_-A3og6Sp_JMkndupaaUDLOK13W9xLg-J5z6avViPc39-lFl07O9upqFkf_t3glc0/s1600/P1200007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDk5SVcOsTuCu8jvpk2Hhu9tFhJo7p0USOGlw4ldQ4E1etgR_wmKi-7ffSQOuslSunoXi7SM-uJb_-A3og6Sp_JMkndupaaUDLOK13W9xLg-J5z6avViPc39-lFl07O9upqFkf_t3glc0/s1600/P1200007.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Winter comes with a bunch of cool sounds. This one was pointed out on Facebook by my observant friend Cherie Cooper-Darragh and I immediately stole it! There's even that Styrofoam squeak of the snow when it's super duper cold, like it is right now. </div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-45403157338459756132014-01-14T06:00:00.000-05:002014-01-14T07:41:59.148-05:00#414: Snow Laden Pine Trees<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #414:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Snow Laden Pine Trees</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihsJWx36yKBw1lBRPlRAf6FtUmyFFd7pQ-ZGKIN7AXryCLcc6widi11X5ARNAp75GNXYdAIeadm0QeP9KI3Cb66TaQ-E5pjpTrYROGd5whosscS4zU4ECCvtsoBrhFUFvVsxGKN2asADU/s1600/1486697_10201843858471766_331671479_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihsJWx36yKBw1lBRPlRAf6FtUmyFFd7pQ-ZGKIN7AXryCLcc6widi11X5ARNAp75GNXYdAIeadm0QeP9KI3Cb66TaQ-E5pjpTrYROGd5whosscS4zU4ECCvtsoBrhFUFvVsxGKN2asADU/s320/1486697_10201843858471766_331671479_n.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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I recently asked folks on my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/KatrinaKittleAuthor"><span style="color: blue;">Facebook Author Page</span></a> to list their
favorite winter-specific reasons to be happy and I received so many
wonderful, beautiful comments! One that really spoke to me was this one
from Eva Makstutis. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKbEOmJQxyQv5Zu_h12lGh7fU3Y2MArj72iEUo-2FCWhr6F2CsElw5L13SDRrCQwbD-4Wyn1S-VkW8YYTQb5IZnPwa4sVhFWpXXL3ImJY_MX_Kt53AwR9-LIdGsX00W9GKVZA9fXXu6A/s1600/1545115_10201843897552743_392561621_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKbEOmJQxyQv5Zu_h12lGh7fU3Y2MArj72iEUo-2FCWhr6F2CsElw5L13SDRrCQwbD-4Wyn1S-VkW8YYTQb5IZnPwa4sVhFWpXXL3ImJY_MX_Kt53AwR9-LIdGsX00W9GKVZA9fXXu6A/s320/1545115_10201843897552743_392561621_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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Snow laden pine trees are a winter sight I never tire of. Snow highlighting the branches of <i>any</i> tree skeleton is gorgeous, but something about that sugar coating on the evergreen boughs is especially striking. These beautiful photos were taken by the talented Carol Tierney. Thanks, Carol!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii41_Egoayet9ocj_iAVorx_g8qp2wTMDQd5WP9vnuN5i-TnDNDyZblo1CvUXZM4nfeY85E-CShZoEzRFyelCeOu98xfuJM3CQHh8sLRm9ImsvHXkYpq_-99IV6X6_oL1fpSqOLetKvEs/s1600/1545659_10201843851791599_555654356_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii41_Egoayet9ocj_iAVorx_g8qp2wTMDQd5WP9vnuN5i-TnDNDyZblo1CvUXZM4nfeY85E-CShZoEzRFyelCeOu98xfuJM3CQHh8sLRm9ImsvHXkYpq_-99IV6X6_oL1fpSqOLetKvEs/s320/1545659_10201843851791599_555654356_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-83356840916743306742014-01-07T06:00:00.000-05:002014-01-07T06:00:01.279-05:00#413: The way snow sits atop dead coneflowers like those furry Russian hats<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #413:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The way snow sits atop dead coneflowers</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> like those furry Russian hats</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhMmrk-CoDwBVfL8QTSH0voGlvlWt-137L7mGFwktRm8hz1ubaWalsWtDi_JnR3mKLHV8X5Yb4iHQxwjFSYGBRjqEp07CFoksWNna-n8Enu4FdaOHhRAyuPfr1Zyklc8-umsxLkFu360/s1600/P1020001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhMmrk-CoDwBVfL8QTSH0voGlvlWt-137L7mGFwktRm8hz1ubaWalsWtDi_JnR3mKLHV8X5Yb4iHQxwjFSYGBRjqEp07CFoksWNna-n8Enu4FdaOHhRAyuPfr1Zyklc8-umsxLkFu360/s1600/P1020001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I never prune my perennials until spring. I like to give all the wild creatures a bit of habitat and shelter, plus I love the interesting sculptures the snow makes of them.</div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-74462457618440115162013-10-08T07:28:00.001-04:002013-10-08T07:28:14.121-04:00#412: Cats in Bags<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #412:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Cats in Bags</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtRHlntjuJ3nmOXDqY9NkmzjPcZ41OkDzLdQF9h8EJWn3oXNQ2o60fjPx4ZqazHQtS6fYahkuYP5hbiQLKnF-3mdfaeraC-4ZiC6fr-fQo54rbtNxT6vYKfrCQmPE4C7JL9yzWUF0wMg/s1600/PC140005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtRHlntjuJ3nmOXDqY9NkmzjPcZ41OkDzLdQF9h8EJWn3oXNQ2o60fjPx4ZqazHQtS6fYahkuYP5hbiQLKnF-3mdfaeraC-4ZiC6fr-fQo54rbtNxT6vYKfrCQmPE4C7JL9yzWUF0wMg/s320/PC140005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Watching a cat (or two) play with a paper bag is one of the quickest ways to produce laughter.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVCGx6vQlHBESaPv-sk50GHohcfSsVYW2Zfh_P2HKz-exvvqzH-WBX8UoCH14oVkpCOHyNP5eRcckMRu55pGatYNz64tLpFWUigmWvvAXzrkkbbWC4RgIAws7Vyj_3LNC_dRwlOYLb644/s1600/PC140006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVCGx6vQlHBESaPv-sk50GHohcfSsVYW2Zfh_P2HKz-exvvqzH-WBX8UoCH14oVkpCOHyNP5eRcckMRu55pGatYNz64tLpFWUigmWvvAXzrkkbbWC4RgIAws7Vyj_3LNC_dRwlOYLb644/s320/PC140006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've never met a cat who didn't embrace the joys of playing in paper bags.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUOsFsqemUhaENqdjQxoINr_xwXv2Lv6wvkvGNwQiNn4YYM-DEnwH1Ngv7J_34oQP5vO4eXuYKzId2_uMvYjuBFkxRFvaqG2GIc846tUUqa45ARmQXl-2Z2JrnxhmK16ZH1Y3QPX5kJo/s1600/photo+copy+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUOsFsqemUhaENqdjQxoINr_xwXv2Lv6wvkvGNwQiNn4YYM-DEnwH1Ngv7J_34oQP5vO4eXuYKzId2_uMvYjuBFkxRFvaqG2GIc846tUUqa45ARmQXl-2Z2JrnxhmK16ZH1Y3QPX5kJo/s320/photo+copy+4.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Cat + paper bag = belly laughs</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlO9BO7QSw92LPJdeJVl4jcuTnGOVLDW5qBRxnRQ4BIjylXEWyJLYbTnoSxes28A7jd9p6HWq4Gr3ERZerKF6USzPb53zR1hgKPdC880PMXuoh4rncspbRcdaxIb2F2zg8scsp8_-N80/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlO9BO7QSw92LPJdeJVl4jcuTnGOVLDW5qBRxnRQ4BIjylXEWyJLYbTnoSxes28A7jd9p6HWq4Gr3ERZerKF6USzPb53zR1hgKPdC880PMXuoh4rncspbRcdaxIb2F2zg8scsp8_-N80/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-88917824708048881052013-09-27T06:00:00.000-04:002013-09-27T06:00:02.658-04:00#411: The Aroma That Rises From a Fresh Box of Doughnuts<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #411:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Aroma That Rises From a </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Fresh Box of Doughnuts</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPtBWVGHa_x3GzlaSJFe5wIk9mvfJq2w2vCpnKxAvE9JPJai6dasIBwwj5caU16B4fP3iEIcPJt82Sw9WpC2LMxM7HxYEXoOOapUTo9dHDT2Fw3IkG-yhz8Wyh8xfGarpffRc1WcafHo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPtBWVGHa_x3GzlaSJFe5wIk9mvfJq2w2vCpnKxAvE9JPJai6dasIBwwj5caU16B4fP3iEIcPJt82Sw9WpC2LMxM7HxYEXoOOapUTo9dHDT2Fw3IkG-yhz8Wyh8xfGarpffRc1WcafHo/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Okay, this is going to sound blasphemous but I'm not a huge fan of doughnuts. Don't get me wrong—I fall for them every single time! And every single time, I say "They always look so much better than they taste. Why do I let them fool me?" And you know the answer?<br />
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It's that insanely-fresh-yeasty-bakery-shop-intense-warm-inviting aroma of <i>comfort</i> that rises up when you lift the lid off a box of doughnuts. It's an aroma that encourages you to close your eyes, lower your nose closer, and deeply inhale. I <i>should</i> learn that the aroma alone is <i>enough</i>...but I know myself too well. Next time, I'm sure I'll spend longer than a reasonable person should selecting a fat, shiny, chocolate-iced cream-filled (not custard, but cream—you know, the white cream that's kind of grainy with sugar?) doughnut and putting it in the microwaves for exactly 8 seconds. I will eat it slowly, then say, "They always look better than they taste. When will I learn?"<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-33400066907414303522013-09-26T06:00:00.000-04:002013-09-26T10:37:00.695-04:00#410: Writing Poetry<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #410:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Writing Poetry</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Today I am pleased as punch to offer a guest blog from a writer friend of mine. I met Ed Davis years and years ago (I won't...ahem...say just how many) when we were in a writing group together. He is the author of the novels <i>I Was So Much Older Then</i> and <i>The Measure of Everything,</i> as well as the poetry chapbooks <i>Haskell</i> and <i>Whispering Leaves</i>, and many short stories. He's one of those writers who is <i>crazy</i> good at reading his own work. I would happily sit and listen to him read for hours. You can find out lots more about him at his <a href="http://www.davised.com/"><span style="color: blue;">website</span></a>. Ed blogs here about <i>writing</i> poetry, but the reasons he lists are mostly true of <i>reading</i> poetry, as well. I recently shared with a writing class that part of my morning writing warmup is to read two or three poems. I look forward to reading Ed's poems when <i>Time of the Light</i>, his new collection, releases this November. In the meantime, please read his wonderful blog on writing poetry below:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reason
to be Happy: Writing Poetry</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>Rumi and Rilke,
Lennon and McCartney, the Psalms of David . . . ah, <i>poetry!</i>
Like Katrina, I’m a novelist, but one who also writes poetry. I
once thought I couldn’t “serve two muses,” and I quit writing
poems in favor of writing stories exclusively. But I couldn’t avoid
those moments that screamed <i>poetry.</i> And what <i>is </i>it
about poetry, you might ask?</div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reason #1</b></span></div>
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Writing poetry gives me intoxicating
pleasure even purer than fiction. You don’t need all the
infrastructure of plot and characterization. All you need is image,
language and rhythm,<i> </i>mainlined into your veins and shot
straight to your head and heart.</div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reason #2</b></span></div>
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Writing poetry has taught me what the
stuff really is: mostly something I feel in my gut rather than in my
head. Meaning is subordinate to music. Even when I don’t get it—or
even like it—I recognize it. And to hear and to read it was, for
me, to want to write it, which I’ve been doing for about
thirty-five years now.</div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reason #3</b></span></div>
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Using language to make poetry is a
whole “other thing” than prose. I live for the music of word and
line, whatever the breath can encompass. True, prose can be luscious,
poetic to a greater or lesser degree, but pure poetry is the closest
to heaven that words ever get.</div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reason #4</b></span></div>
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Writing poetry perfectly complements
the spiritual inspiration I find in the woods. Being among rocks,
trees and streams takes me to the place where my Higher Power and I
commune most closely. The confluence of nature and poetry gives me
great joy—and sometimes yields poems I want to share with others.</div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reason #5</b></span></div>
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Writing poetry connects me to a vital
community. Poetry-Land is a parallel universe, easily accessed.
Readings are all over the place, from bars and coffee shops to
libraries and prisons. Also, through poetry I’ve forged ties with
poets all over the country.</div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reason #6</b></span></div>
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Writing poetry also brought me the gift
of public performance. For a long time, I thought I could never
share such intimate words and experiences. And yet, if the holy has
happened—as it so often does in the composition process—the
result will, like liturgy, bless both writer and the listener with
astonishing joy.
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Now you . . . </b></span>
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Once you start watching for it, poetry
will find you<i>. </i>And that’s only a step away from you perhaps
writing your own poems. They could even become indispensable. “These
Poems,” a poem which came to me one day in Glen Helen Nature
Preserve, seems to think so:
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I’ve left these poems behind</div>
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a hundred million times,</div>
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lying in ditches, tossed</div>
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thoughtlessly from speeding cars,</div>
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buried deep on cemetery ridges.</div>
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But these poems . . .
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Never left me.</div>
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God willing, they never will.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Main Street Rag Press
will publish Ed’s first full-length poetry collection </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Time
of the Light, </i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">including the poem above,</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>
</i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">in November 2013. See <a href="http://mainstreetrag.com/bookstore/product/time-of-the-light/">http://mainstreetrag.com/bookstore/product/time-of-the-light/</a> for full details.
Please visit Ed at <a href="http://www.davised.com/">www.davised.com</a>.)</span></div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-49580865883191677902013-08-29T09:27:00.002-04:002013-08-29T09:27:30.578-04:00#409: Those Little Messages Inside Dove Dark Chocolates<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #409:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Those Little Messages Inside </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Dove Dark Chocolates</b></span></div>
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So, not only do you get to eat a melt-in-your-mouth Dove dark chocolate,
which is really a reason to be happy all by itself, you <i>also</i> get
a lovely little message like, "You are exactly where you are supposed
to be" or "Take this moment. Enjoy it." Reminders such as, "You make
everything lovely," and "Take good care of yourself" brighten any day.
And I did mention that <i>you're eating chocolate</i>, right?<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-87748499242064959532013-08-22T06:00:00.000-04:002013-08-22T06:00:00.658-04:00#408: A Fella Who Brings You Flowers "Because It's Thursday"<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #408:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>A Fella Who Brings You Flowers "Because It's Thursday"</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> </b><span style="font-size: small;">Forgive me if that's sappy, but it's a lovely thing, receiving flowers "just because." And Gerbera daisies happen to be my favorite. (So is this fella).</span></span></div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-12449012002767325082013-08-20T06:00:00.000-04:002013-08-20T10:41:37.312-04:00#407: Having Everything You Need to Make Pasta Sauce Right in Your Own Backyard<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #407:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Having Everything You Need to Make </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Pasta Sauce</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Right in Your Own Backyard</b></span></div>
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I love my garden. I love fresh pasta sauce. And I love walking outside with a basket and picking everything I need to make it from my own yard—tomatoes, basil, thyme, oregano, peppers. Okay, full disclosure: that onion came from my CSA box. But the rest I grew myself!<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-28014960418790924082013-08-16T06:00:00.000-04:002013-08-16T06:00:00.585-04:00#406: This Llama Wearing a Hat<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to be Happy #406:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This Llama Wearing a Hat</b></span></div>
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I met this fine fellow at the West Virginia State Fair. He was a flirt and kept reaching his head out to visit with me...but as soon as I pulled out my camera, I swear he "posed"—he turned his head to the side and stood very still. As soon as I put the camera away, he returned to his previous antics. Look at those eye lashes! And his speckles! What a handsome guy! I'm a sucker for an animal in a hat.<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-9829061943512938542013-08-14T06:36:00.000-04:002013-08-14T06:36:28.303-04:00#405: Peanut Butter Rice Krispy Treats with Chocolate Icing<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #405:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Peanut Butter Rice Krispy Treats with Chocolate Icing</b></span></div>
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I know, I know, I already used Rice Krispy Treats as a reason to be happy way back, but this is different. Believe me, it's a whole new level of happiness! Whoever dreamed up this recipe is a genius, in my humble opinion. Adding additional layers of happiness (and awesomeness) is the fact that this lovely treat was baked by my sweet man's wonderful (and talented) mother. Aww…is that enough sugar for the day? :-)<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156842252035498500.post-27750504416753726542013-08-03T09:59:00.000-04:002013-08-03T09:59:12.816-04:00#404: Rainy Days for Writing<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Reason to Be Happy #404:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Rainy Days for Writing</b></span></div>
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I love my writing office so so much. I've designed quite an inspiring view for myself...but that view can also be a distraction because I love puttering in my garden <i>almost</i> as much as I love writing.<br />
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Rainy days are my friend. I get all the benefits of that gorgeous garden view, but none of the temptation to go out there. I settle in, with good coffee and a purring cat, and stay at the desk. Ahh...<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15591135353537396429noreply@blogger.com0