I’m not so happy about this…!

December 27, 2013 / roughwighting / 37 Comments

A little over a year ago my daughter celebrated the birth of her third baby.

Her first child, Sophie, was 4, the middle boy Clark was 3, and now a baby. Everyone was thrilled: the parents, grandparents, great-grandmothers, aunts and uncles, and friends.

And everyone told Sophie and Clark how very lucky they were to have a baby brother.

A day after the baby was born, when the last guest left, patting Sophie on the head saying, “You must be a happy big sister!”, Sophie cuddled up on the hospital bed next to her mother, who was nursing the baby.

“MaMa?” Sophie began.

My daughter turned her gaze from her fresh, newly hatched being and gazed at her daughter. “Yes?”

Sophie whispered apologetically and guiltily, “I’m not so happy about this.”

Ah, how well we understand the misgivings, fears, and acknowledgements that new circumstances, changes, and relationships do NOT make us happy.

Like when my guy moved us from our perfect setting in the bay area, with moderate temps, a great group of friends, a fun job, and comfortable routines, for his new job in New England. I acted thrilled, gaily checking out the real estate, the university that our son attended just miles away in Boston, and the need for a new wardrobe for a 4-season-state. But inwardly, I was NOT so happy about this.

Yet, I jumped into a new job, tutoring special ed high school students, learning a million new facets of myself. I grew close to my mother-in-law, whom I’d never really known because we’d always lived thousands of miles away. I discovered the beaches of Cape Cod and the lakes in New Hampshire, and delved more deeply into writing (and writers) while living just a few steps away from Louisa May Alcott’s and Henry David Thoreau’s spiritual and brick & mortar homes.

I even learned to like Baked Beans, lobster, and the soundless arrival of snow.

During this time, a New England friend, happily traveling throughout the world in his upper management position, was suddenly “retired early.” Oh, how he fought what he saw as a downturn in his life. How could the company possibly live without his skills? He sulked, he ranted, and he knew he was not ready to “go out to pasture,” as he spouted to anyone who listened. He was not so happy about this!

But he surprised us all in a breathtaking way by signing up for a position in a non-profit organization that trained the disabled so they could acquire jobs and make a living for themselves. My always-corporate friend now earns a salary a quarter of what he’s used to, hobnobs with women and men who have less than a high school education with tough sad backgrounds and sadder tales of struggling in this world.

His corporate experience helps him procure donations and grants, and he encourages companies (like the kind he used to work for) to hire the needy who he represents. He has made a difference, and he is a happy man –feeling a deeper purpose in his life. His hours and his attitude are more relaxed; thus, his golf game has improved dramatically!

Can you think of the changes in your life in which you were NOT SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS?

And then what happened?

HAPPY (and maybe sometimes, NOT SO HAPPY) NEW YEAR TO YOU!

Sophie, now VERY HAPPY with her baby brother.

The Answers Appear All Around

December 20, 2013August 13, 2017 / roughwighting / 25 Comments

Christmas, poem, town, Tiburon, worshipping, spirits

Photo by Eddie Frank, Gas Lamp Productions

In my little town, the lights sparkle

Like diamond dust thrown in the wind

Lifted by souls of the living

Who search for the gift of pure joy.

Like diamond dust thrown in the wind

Questions fly to neighbors near and far

Who search for the gift of pure joy

While admiring the view of the world.

Questions fly to neighbors near and far

Are you happy, or sad, or just neutral?

While admiring the view of the world

Where the cardinal and pelican play.

Are you happy or sad, or just neutral

Living in towns, cities and farms

Where the cardinal and pelican play

With wings full of wisdom and grace.

Photo by Carla Bradley Evans

Living in towns, cities, and farms

Worshipping spirits and stars from above

With wings full of wisdom and grace

The answers appear all around.

Photo by Susan Licht

Worshipping spirits and stars from above

While snow dances or sun sets with a splash

The answers appear all around

If we listen to trumpeting truths.

While snow dances or sun sets with a splash

From sea to shining sea

If we listen to trumpeting truths

The message can give us all peace.

From sea to shining sea

We embrace the spirits who soar

The message can give us all peace

Love and joy are in each part of us.

Happy Holidays to you, and may peace and joy abound in your life.

The Simplest Hardest Cake in the World

December 13, 2013 / roughwighting / 31 Comments

When we’re first in love, we’ll do just about anything for the new apple in our eye.

Even bake a cake. A cake from a 100-year-old recipe.

At least, that’s what I grumbled lo those many years ago when I began to date the man I now call my guy.

We met in September. He lived in one state, I lived in another, so we dated by commute. But by the end of November, he asked to stay for a weekend in mid-December. I said yes, and in the next breath he said, “Oh, and by the way, it’s my birthday.”

I skipped only one beat and said, “I’ll take you out for dinner.”

He skipped no beats when replying, “Um, what I’d really like is my grandmother’s birthday cake.”

WHAT?

Turns out, since my guy was a little boy, his mom made him a cake from a recipe his grandmother discovered long ago in an old magazine. My guy loved that cake, and wondered if I’d like to bake it for his birthday.

Before I could say, “NO,” I opened my mailbox to discover a sweet love letter, with a yellowed piece of thin paper inside: the recipe for ye old “Ski Cake.”

The day before he arrived for his weekend visit, I followed the directions to the last teaspoon, creaming the butter and sugar while “working in” the milk and sifted flour (back in the grandmother’s days, the cook had to sift her own flour). I beat the egg whites and made a meringue and folded it into the cake, per instructions. As easy as ….cake.

Granted, as soon as I took it out of the oven it flattened half its size, but still, I figured that’s how cakes looked in the olden days.

I frosted and set it before my dimpled date on his birthday, and with bated breath waited for him to take a bite.

He bit, and he chewed, and chewed and chewed, before he finally swallowed. Twice.

Averting my eyes, he said, “Delicious.”

I took a bite. The cake was as hard as a rock and tasted like stone.

Despite my failure, we married within a year, and on his next birthday, I tried again.

With the same results.

On our third anniversary, I had a new oven in a different state with a state-of-the-art mixer.

But the same results.

A week before our fourth anniversary, I called my guy’s mom and admitted my dilemma.

“I follow the old recipe exactly, each time, and each time, it’s a bust!” I moaned.

A small effervescent bubble popped between the phone lines. A few seconds after the pop I realized the noise was my mother-in-law’s chuckle.

“No one can make that recipe work,” the sweet woman explained. “On his birthdays, I’d race to the store and buy a Betty Crocker white cake mix. He never knew the difference.”

I didn’t find it as funny as she did, but you can be damn sure that I ran to the store and bought that cake mix, and the night before his birthday, in secret, baked the best Ski Cake my guy had ever tasted.

He said so.

And every December, he enjoys my home-baked, best simplest hardest birthday cake in the world.

Ski Cake

You Asked for It!

December 6, 2013 / roughwighting / 20 Comments

You asked for it.

I finally delivered.

The highly-reviewed book, The Right Wrong Man, is now available in paperback.

I’ve interviewed the person most affected by our book’s evolution, Meredith, a more interesting character than I, so to speak, who plays a pivotal role in the journey from e-book to paper.

First, as an introduction for those who have never met you, are you a hot person, or a cold one?

Oh, what a trick question! My boyfriend says I’m very hot (giggle), but if you’re talking about the weather and are familiar with my recent escapades to the Caribbean, I admit that despite the soft sultry warmth of those islands, I prefer the four wild unpredictable seasons of New England.

Wild and unpredictable New England weather.

Speaking of wild and unpredictable, how’s your story been received by the critics, as well as your friends and family?

Wow, that was quite a segue. My story, developed by PS Wight as The Right Wrong Man, ended up being researched, studied, and then committee-ed by the F.B.I, the C.I.A., and the D.E.A. since its publication in January, 2013. I’m amazed that my actions regarding my kidnapping and ultimate discovery of illegal drug running have caused so much reaction.

Really? Surprised? Your role in the case was pivotal in…

Excuse me, I mean I’m amazed at the readers’ reaction to the book. So many people who don’t know me (or my author) bought the e-book in droves, and the reviews of my story have been rewarding, to say it mildly. My family hasn’t exactly liked the way some of their secrets have been revealed, and my boyfriend is a bit worried about how the authorities have reacted, but overall, it’s been rewardingly successful.

Speaking of “your author,” as you have several times, what’s your take on her latest big news about your book?

The Kindle Edition.

OMG, PS Wight is just not technologically proficient, know what I mean? I wanted to jump out of the pages and help the poor woman. But I give her credit. So many of her friends and blog followers have begged her to publish The Right Wrong Man as a paperback for those who are not into e-reading. Personally, I agree with them (though I never share my thoughts with Wight– she has spent too many hours formatting and screaming obscenities – for a sweet woman, I was shocked at some of the words she used) and praying that she wouldn’t succeed when she attempted to throw her computer out of her window into the nearby waters of the SF Bay. What passion!

Are you happy to be in paper now ?

Ecstatic! I felt a bit ethereal, you know, with my story squished into the Kindle. Now I’m a white and black character full of print and potency. I can sit on your desk and be visible day and night! Although I’m certain some departments of the D.E. A. will try to confiscate any paperback editions hanging around their offices, I think this book will sell even faster than the e-book did. The story is a nail-biter (I’ve read it five times, and even though it’s about ME, I still hold my breath during every chapter).

Now available in softback!

Thanks for stopping by at Roughwighting, Meredith.

Oh, thanks for having me. Here is my question to your readers. Can you guess what TRMFY means?

To get the answer, and to enjoy Meredith’s wild and unpredictable adventure from Boston to the Caribbean, from one wrong man to the next, while helping discover a dangerous drug ring, hit the link here and visit The Right Wrong Man‘s Amazon page. Available now in softback, as well as e-book.

A Thanksgiving Dance

November 29, 2013November 28, 2013 / roughwighting / 15 Comments

We peer out the window and watch the leaves dance dramatically in the fresh late autumn air. The burnt reds, dulled oranges, and browns are gay in their jig, and we stop resisting the urge to go out and join the party.

After pulling on my navy jacket, I bark a quick “Let’s go” to the dog and the two of us race to a path that leads to the wildlife refuge – a marsh hidden with a wild kingdom. Ten minutes later we walk on the trail that circles the large estuary, covered with tall brown reeds, cat’s tails, and grasses.

I’m disappointed though; not much wildlife in sight. The geese honk overhead. The red-winged black bird has already flown south for the coming winter.

Photo by Susan Licht. (http://lichtyears.wordpress.com/)

My dog stands as still as a stone though, his golden ears raised higher than a giraffe’s. Yes! Suddenly with a swoosh like a hundred taffeta dresses moving in synchronicity on the dance hall, hundreds of hidden ducks swirl out of the water and up into the air.

The sound moves me like no other, and I feel connected to the land, the sky, and to a hidden God just revealed.