This moment, as I sit at my desk facing the window, a canopy of redwoods lining the fence, blue sky peeks through the tall branches. This morning, the sun came up brighter than I have seen in days. In fact, today is the first day smoke and haze have not permeated the air, polluting, causing burning eyes, headaches and breathing difficulties. Like many others, I have been taking my exercise to the gym instead of outside.

The fires have been in areas other than Santa Rosa, all the way from Humboldt County (my old stomping grounds) down to Big Sur, and many places in between. In fact, other than two house fires started by electrical mishaps, Sonoma County has been very lucky. All we have gotten is the smoke, but it has been everywhere for days. In places where fires run rampant, wildlife has either died or been displaced, and many people have lost their homes. All from the natural phenomenon of lightning striking like an angry match.

I have only been in one fire, when I was five. We lived in a mobile home in a small town in the hills. I think it was California, or maybe it was Oregon. I don’t recall. My dad was a logger, my mother stayed at home. Sometimes she would put us down for a nap and go outside and split wood for my dad.

One particular day, she was outside working. She had told us to stay down for our nap. I was cold and asked my brother, who was six, to keep me warm. At some point, we found some matches and built a fire, just a small one in the closet to keep us warm until mother came back into the house. Within moments, that little fire took on a life of its own and raged out of control. The last thing I remember is my mother, five feet two and one hundred ten pounds, running out of the house with each of us under an arm.

I remember the terror I felt from the heat, the fear on my mother’s face as she rescued us from the preying arms of the flames, the anger in my father’s voice as he scolded us for playing with matches. However, I didn’t remember the incident until I was an adolescent, and then it came back full-force in flashbacks explaining why I hated fire, even that small flame when my parents struck a match to light their cigarettes.

In present times, I feel for those who have either had to evacuate or have lost their homes, including wildlife. Fire started by a natural phenomenon affords a lot less guilt than one started by matches. However, the emotions are the same- loss, anger, grief and the actions of picking up pieces and starting over. I remember when my parents had to pick up those pieces.

Each day, I say my prayers for those directly affected by the fires and for the fire fighters who have been working for almost two weeks to bring the flames under control. Other than prayer, and the angels who help out in numerous ways, all California needs is a good strong dose of rain.

This week, my Compaq Presario R3000 with Windows XP literally died. The power source inside of the computer shorted out and the computer would not start at all. It would have cost me more to fix it than to buy a new computer. Over the last year, I have had numerous problems with my computer- what appeared to be the backlight going out, which somehow “fixed” itself, problems starting up and crashing in the middle of work, and then the latest fiasco with the power source. My guess is that all those prior problems had to do with my system shorting out. However, despite the problems, I used my computer every single day for my writing and internet activity. It really was a great computer.

During my computer experience, I learned that there are still good people out there who are not after a buck. The technician at Mawson Computer Center did not charge me for the labor he had put into repairing the power jack ($270), but charged me a $69 diagnostic fee and told me to go buy myself a new computer. If I were to have the power source replaced, it would cost me well over $1,000 with part and labor. Without being asked to do so, and without charging extra, he also saved all of my “stuff” onto disc. I am really grateful. Here is a blurb on their excellent service record: http://www.diamondcertified.com/sonomamawsoncomputercenter.html

Now, this brings me to the real meat of this entry, which is a subject that makes many computer users out there pretty sore- Vista. Yes, my new Compaq Presario F700 came equipped with Windows Vista. I could have had XP installed for one low price of $59.99, but I wanted to try out Vista first before making that decision.

Let me tell you…..

I am glad that I did not install XP. I like Vista a lot. I have found it to be user friendly, fast and it looks great. Yes, it does look different and is probably a near-clone of the Mac operating system. However, it does things a lot easier and differently than Windows XP. For example:

1. When I hooked my DSL modem up to the internet, no action was necessary on my part other then plugging the correct cable into the correct port- Vista did the rest (whatever the rest was). XP required that I go through a few steps.

2. I installed my HP printer with no problems and no software- just plugged the printer cord into the computer and Vista did the rest. XP required that I used the software, which was cumbersome and too overloaded for my taste.

3. I removed the trial version of Word 2007 from my new computer because I didn’t like how difficult to navigate it was, didn’t want to purchase it, and love Word 2003. Since I already had my Word 2003 software, I tried to install it despite warnings from others that it might not work. Well, it installed just fine and is now in full working order.

For someone like me, who uses the computer for creative writing and simple things, Vista Home Edition is perfect. I don’t do gaming, but I do love to browse the internet to the writer’s digest forums (link in sidebar on the right), research, listen to music, view videos and review blogs, and I spend a lot of time writing. Speaking of writing, it is time to get back to my editing chapter 8 of my novel, which now lives on my new Compaq.

This last week, I have been on what I call a working vacation- time off from my day job to do work at home. My goals were to get lots of writing done, clean my filing cabinet, redecorate on a budget, have new windows put in and do the mundane things I don’t have time to do. On Friday, I planned on going up to Don’s and coming home on Monday. I promised myself that I would run early in the mornings as I usually do before work, followed by a half hour or so of browsing the internet while I ate breakfast and, finally, getting in at least two hours of writing each day.

I am more than tickled to report that my vacation went pretty much as planned, with a few setbacks. Sometime on Sunday night, my computer decided to become upset; every time I pressed the keys, the blue screen of death appeared followed by a quick restart where I didn’t have time to read the error message. I attempted system restore, updating Windows, and all kinds of other little things. I finally ended up buying a $15.00 external keyboard, which was the perfect solution. That is, until I forgot I had the external keyboard and started using my laptop keys again- and the computer hasn’t crashed since! My logic- computers have their personalities too!

This week, I met my writing goals. On most days, I wrote at least two hours. On Wednesday, while my windows were being installed, I got in four hours of writing. Since I live in a spacious 925 square foot condominium, I was able to work at my laptop in my office while the old windows were removed and installed at the front of the house. When they made it back to the office, I moved to the kitchen table. This system of staying out of their way while doing my own thing resulted in two things- chapter six and seven are revised/rewritten and I now have new double-paned windows that eliminate most of the outside noise and all of the old draft and keeps the inside evenly heated to my specifications.

The greatest gift I received this week came while I was cleaning out my file cabinets. First, I decided to rid myself of multiple copies of the same story, all of which came from when I took writing workshops about 15 years ago. Some of the copies had intelligent critiques, others contained nothing more than random doodles or words/phrases that made no sense. I shredded until I had the most current copy of each story, including those that went through major revisions. I am not a clutter-bug, except when it comes to my writing, where my ego is more at play. It helped put my own creative side into balance by throwing away that which was not doing me any good.

My other gift was finding a large folder containing rejection slips dating from 1991 through 1998. As any writer knows, rejection is a normal part of submitting your work whether you are published or not. As I read the rejections, I noticed that many were personalized letters and contained handwritten encouragement on form letters. Some were as simple as these:

*So sorry, not right for us.
*Thank you, I regret this is not for me. Good luck!
*Thanks for your submission, but we are not accepting fiction at this time. Best of luck!

Then, there were the personalized letters written directly to me, not form letters with my name inserted at the top. I love Cats wrote me this on April 29, 1992: “Thank you for sending me your story and I really enjoyed the piece and writing. However, I recently accepted a story on the same topic so I will have to pass on yours…”

There were other personalized letters telling me to check back in a few months, and another giving me advice on seeking a literary agent as opposed to submitting on my own, another rejecting my proposal but advising to consult with Writer’s Market and Literary Marketplace for a more comprehensive list of places to submit, and yet another rejection where the editor enjoyed reading my proposal but ran out of funding and would not be able to accept any work at this time.

Even the dark cloud of rejection can contain a silver lining (cliché, I know, but who cares?).

I quit submitting my writing for a good eight years after receiving the rejections slips. I don’t think it was the rejections themselves, but more life taking over- going back to school and getting my paralegal certification and then completing my B.A. degree in liberal studies. Both of those contained a lot of writing and submitting to no one else but the professors.

Early last year, I decided to start writing more, as well as submitting. I completed the first draft of my novel, and I am now editing and rewriting. Within the last 14 months or so, I have submitted three short stories, two of which have been accepted for publication. One of the stories keeps getting rejected. My first rejection was because the magazine decided to fold, which is not a rejection of my work per se. The second magazine I sent it thought it was a good story but that it was not right for their publications, perhaps I should submit to crime magazines. The last rejection was from a well-known crime magazine. Time to get that story back into circulation again.

My weekend with Don was great. We went to a musical gathering on Friday night, visited Grandpa on Saturday, attended a parade on Sunday morning (he actually rode in the parade while playing his fiddle and guitar), went for a boat ride and lunch outing on Sunday afternoon, and then I came home this morning. It was wonderful spending the weekend with the one I love and many wonderful friends.

Tomorrow I go back to my day job. Since I like the people I work with, as well as the type of work I do, I am ready to step back into the working world again. Right now, I enjoy being in my warm home (outside it is windy and overcast) and hanging out with my cat, Buddy and Oliver.

I hope you have all had a safe Memorial Day Weekend.

Three mornings a week on my run, I stop to visit a sweet elderly Stallion named Festin. The last time I visited, my friend did not look well. Whereas he often met me at the chain link fence, this day he could not so. It appeared that his entire body was glued in place, and every tiny movement of his legs seemed too difficult. I picked up some hay and tried to feed him. I could tell he wanted to acknowledge my gesture in his usual way, but that he could not. I worried about him and hoped he would be okay.

When I went running later in the week, an acquaintance told me she had not seen Festin in the field for the last few days. “I think he’s gone,” she said. “I saw him limping last week as if he were in pain. He didn’t look good.” A few minutes later, when I reached Festin’s home, the field was empty. He was nowhere to be found. As I looked toward the wooden fence where he liked to hang out, or up by his water trough, I realized that I probably would never see him again.

Today, I read an article in our local newspaper that Festin had been put down due to a chronic leg condition that was beyond treatment. For the last two years, I have been blessed with the gift of a great friendship with this wonderful soul. Festin attracted a local audience with his spirit and friendly personality. I know several will be saddened by his loss, including his owners. I am really going to miss him.

To end my week, several angels stepped into my path. First, I received a check that was not due for ten days. I was surprised, but at the same time elated. Payday is not until May 15, and I wondered how I would make it through with the high price of gas and all. The money came just in time.

That Friday evening, I was on my way to Don’s for the weekend. On Range avenue, my car started shaking like crazy. I knew I had a flat tire. The only place I could pull into was the cul-de-sac next to where Festin used to live. I called the towing company to change my tire and called my boyfriend to let him know I would be late. As I waited for help, I imagined Festin running happy and free through the field. I truly believe that his great spirit was watching over me.

The towing company never did come, but a young lady stopped and said her boyfriend could change my tire. Once completed (and after I profusely thanked them for their kindness), they suggested I take the back roads to a local tire center. I made it there just as they were getting ready to close down. Instead of turning me away, the staff stayed overtime to put a new tire on my car and to make sure the rest of my tires were okay. While I waited the forty-five minutes, I worked on the editing process of my novel.

Until next time- be sure to keep your eyes open so you don’t miss any angels that come into your path.

A recent question at an online writer’s forum was when to call one’s self a writer. The responses varied, with opinions ranging from someone who is published and makes a living as a writer to those who simply love to write. My opinion was somewhere in the middle.

If someone asks what I do, I say I am a paralegal because this is how I make my living. However, in discussions on what we do outside of our careers, I tell people I love to write short stories, and that I’m working on a novel. But, I don’t call myself a writer because that is not what I do for a living. However, I might say that my hobby is writing.

When I was younger, I had dreams of becoming a lyricist. Then, I wanted to become famous writing short stories and novels. I saw the world through rose colored glasses. My mother thought it was wonderful that I wrote, but she also told me that one does not usually make a lot of money writing.

“You need to go to college, get your education and find a career. You need to learn how to support yourself.”

As any teenager would, I argued with my mother and stood my ground. As any good mother would, she encouraged me to continue writing and pushed me toward college.

Of course, mom was right.

I’m glad I chose my education and a career. On a daily basis, I create legal documents- compile facts and write about them so others can understand the case. Some time of each workday is dedicated to writing, some days it’s all I do. I love the law, and I love writing. What better way to earn a living!

When I come home from work, I write short stories and/or work on my novel, or do some other type of writing. Sometimes it’s 15 minutes, other times it’s an hour or two. It just depends. Once in awhile, I submit. Two stories I have submitted in the last year have been accepted. Two magazines have rejected another story. I think it’s a good story- perhaps I should continue submitting and see what happens.

As for the rest of life: it’s around 80 degrees outside and a wonderful spring day. I am taking a week off from work in a few weeks for window remodeling on my home. I will also be jumping into spring cleaning, as well as looking through some of Grandma’s writings and working toward compiling them into a family history.

Tomorrow, I will be going to the Redwood Writers Club joint meeting with Marin County. This should be loads of fun!