Heart Broken.

I talk to a dead cat every day.

January 2021, our cat Penelope had kittens. All of them died except one. I became fond of the little kitten but we had no intentions of keeping her. I was going to find her a new home. (We already had too many cats.)

After she was born I was hospitalized, y’all remember that. When I got home she had a boo-boo on the top of her head. Her mom, Penelope, && Penelopes sister, Benson, got into a fight over her and booped her head. We named her Dotty.

After a bit that spot turned black – not a bad black, she basically ended up with a dot on her head that was black. As she aged a lot of her white darkened. She ended up looking Siamese.

Her and I bonded. We got very close. I fell in love with her when she was a baby. Completely head over heels. She got older, bigger, darker. She slept with me, && would want me to hold her like a baby rocking her as she slept. I called her Babykins. She was my baby.

Two weeks ago she never came home. I waited three days before I really started to freak out. By Friday I needed her home. So I went out looking for her. Walking around our small town I knew she wouldn’t go far. I even asked a Facebook Community page for help.

I found her. 💔

I know people always tell me that they don’t see their animals as animals but as children. I never understood that. Until her. She was special to me. She made me happy. &&& I know she loved me just as much as I loved her. (Even if I did read someone say that animals don’t love us that they only seem like it because they depended on us for food.)

She was down the road. Wet. Dirty. Which was things she hated more than anything. I wish I had went looking for her Wednesday, but I don’t think it would have mattered.

We have a set of aggressive dogs on our street. Mind you, I wasn’t there && at first I thought she was hit by a car. But this past Saturday we found another one of our cats, mauled to death in our back yard. I’m about 100% sure that Babykins was killed by the dogs.

When I found her. A piece of me broke in half. I feel like I’m missing something. A small part of me. A part of my happiness disappeared with her. I picked her limp body up and carried her home with no feelings in my legs. Couldn’t see through the tears. My lungs felt empty. I couldn’t breathe.

I sat on my front porch, alone, crying holding her like I did when she was alive. Close to my chest, rocking her back and forth, crying.

I went to work the next day. I shouldn’t have. For 12.5 hours I sat at my desk and cried. I wasn’t in the correct mindset to be there. I got nothing accomplished. But I went because I had no choice.

Milo, the other cat we found, was our baby. We got him April 2018, and he was solid white && deaf. He was a rescue that we got as a kitten. We raised him. He raised the other cats. We weren’t here for his but I’m pretty sure that Lucci, another one of our cats saw it. He witnessed Milos death. I think this because he has bite marks on his back and side.

Milo had no chance && I fear that Lucci tried to help but couldn’t. Lucci is now traumatized. Any noise he hears he jumps. Stares at the doors. Won’t go outside. You can tell he is sad.

I talk to Babykins every day I walk by her spot. We buried her next to the porch. We put Milo on the other side. They are both there and I see their spots every day.

I really miss them.

Songs.

Worlds.

Trying to break into worlds is hard.

No, this isn’t about me trying to find a way into another galaxy or proving that there is life in space. What I’m stating, is facts, that when you try to break into worlds it’s hard.

The writing community is huge. A lot of book worms, writers, authors, agents, editors, etc. && trying to get welcomed into it is like trying to sit at the popular table in high school. Sadly, I was never invited.

I have never been good at popularity contests && I wasn’t part of the “in crowd” && thinking that the writing community makes me feel like that is a harsh reality. I honestly know it’s not a popularity contest… but I feel like that. I also feel if you don’t have the money to spend you’ll never be published.

I figured the best way for an unknown is to publish it myself. Which is totally fine – I don’t mind doing the hard work. But I really wanted a professional editor to read through it, find the errors but unless I can poop out nearly $3,000 that will never happen. &&& I know they are worth the money, I just don’t have it to spend.

Then I think ‘okay, let’s skip the professional editing.’ Knowing that it’s self published, “most” readers will look over a lot of them. I will just edit the crap out of it.

Next hurdle. To self-publish, you need extra money. Thousands. I found a company that helps self publish but as I began reading I realized that not only do they request thousands of dollars they also keep 80¢ on every dollar for themselves so I would only get 20¢ of every dollar sold. Whereas, if I do it all myself and use Amazon, I get 70% of the royalties.

But then I think about going with my other passion but breaking into the food world is just as hard – if not harder. I guess when they say “you need money to make money” they weren’t kidding. But sadly, here I am with no money.

I did upload a couple chapters of the book. I figured if it gets enough notice that either that company will want to publish it or it shows that if I was to save the money, step-by-step it, that people would be interested in purchasing the book.

Frost the Novel.

Frost

I have decided to step out of my comfort zone. To do so I have uploaded the first few chapters (through chapter three), so I can get feedback on it. If you happen to read it, and you like it, please hit the heart button.

I also understand that not everyone likes every book written, so it won’t hurt all of my feelings if someone doesn’t like it. But at the same time, I hope people like it.

Through that website, if it’s like && enough buzz, they would consider publishing it.

Learned Something.

In the 150 years that I have been alive I have always been told “it’s hot because of the humidity”. Okay, that’s fine, I get it.

The other night I was reading something that a friend wrote on Facebook (she lives in South Carolina) that it was In the 70’s. I stopped && thought ‘I wish it was in the 70’s here’ (104° that day). She mentioned the humidity making it extremely hot.

It got me to thinking. The hottest place I have ever been is Florida so I googled the humidity there – that day it was 78%. So I googled mine – I live in Oklahoma – ours was 34%. So I googled South Carolina – it was 34%. (Mind you, today as I write this, all three humidities are in the 70% but not the day I learned this.) That day here it was 104° &&& I felt like I was on fire.

All of this made me google the places with the highest humidity. The top five: Iowa with 82%, New Hampshire with 81%, Alaska with 81%, Maine with 80% && North Dakota with 80%. Alaska and Maine surprised me briefly until I remembered – water. Water heat. It makes your humidity sky rocket. Oklahoma sits at #34 with a 76% humidity && I cannot forget about Texas, since I was born there and I’m about 5 minutes from the state line- it sits at #29 with a 76% humidity. Deleware is the lowest with a 72% humidity.

So I learned it isn’t always the humidity. Sometimes, living in Satan’s butthole, it’s just hot.

I also think I may have been looking at the wrong numbers the other day with the 30% humidity. Today it’s 72% – though it’s 66% in Oklahoma City, 72% in Tulsa and Gage comes in at 49%. Amarillo, Texas is sitting at 58% whereas Houston is at a whopping 85% but Galveston is at 79%.

So there you have it. Todays humidity levels around Oklahoma and Texas.

Have a good day.

Walking Around the Clock.

I bought a treadmill.

&& shockingly, a part of my body didn’t try to die. (Remember jump rope?) I had it a few days before I actually used it. && I could sit here and give you a million reasons why I didn’t – but truth is… lazy.

The treadmill was on sale. && when I say it was on sale, I’m talking dropped nearly 400$. I have been wanting to buy one because I know I’ll use it. But there are still days where I’ll go outside for a walk. But with this, I have no excuse.

The last seven days I have walked a total of 2:22:20 hours, 3.83 miles && estimated calorie burn of 755. I have given myself small goals on it each day. First. I want to hit one mile. Two. I want to hit 45 minutes or more of walking. Three. I want to burn at least 200 calories. (I know the calorie count is an approximate.) I usually hit one mile first. Takes me approximately 30ish minutes. Then I hit the 200 calories. At that point, I’m just waiting to hit the 45 minute mark.

I know doctors say at least 30 minutes a day, but I figure an extra 15 isn’t going to kill me. Unless I trip – like I almost did today. So my machine has the ability to program exercises for you. I thought today I would do this tour in Louisiana that is on there through a building. Sounded exciting. It was up until it decided it need to speed up, didn’t give me any warning, and I nearly tripped and fell.

Falling on a treadmill is not on my to-do list.

Going with the 200 or more calories per workout, for five days a week, that’s 1000 calories. By gum, if I can’t lose the weight doing 1,000 calories a week – then I need to admit and accept that I’m meant to be overweight and just move on.

But even as optimistic as I am, a part of me worries that I’ve done too much damage && that I can’t reverse anything. I get, && understand that diabetes isn’t curable. It’s manageable. It’s also reversible. A part of me is scared to death that I can’t reverse it && that I have do deal with this the rest of my life. That’s even if I pull the weight off && get myself back on track.

I guess the good part of all of this? I’m out of my walking rut. Now I just have to keep going && not give myself a dumb excuse why I can’t walk one day. The only day I don’t plan on walking is Saturday’s && I’m not using an excuse. It’s the truth. I work from 5A-5:30P – by the time I get home I have enough time to make something for dinner, get to bed, just to wake up and be at work at 5A again. I’m not even going to try to exercise on Saturday’s unless I find that I am off on Sunday’s && as short handed as we are on that day – I don’t see it anytime soon.

My goal is five days. Monday through Friday. If I can hit that goal, I won’t beat myself up if I don’t walk Saturday && Sunday.

I feel as if I’m rambling. So I’m going to stop now.

Frost.

Mara Montgomery spends her days cooking and cleaning for her stepmother and two stepsisters. But after an accident one night, Mara finds her life changing forever. When she arrives back home and see’s that everything has changed, her anger turns into revenge, before taking off deciding her life isn’t what she always thought it would be. Mara is only partially accepting with the reality she was facing when she is approached by the charming, rude, and egotistical Kristopher Plague.

Kristopher Plague comes across to the public as the ordinary rich boy, not wanting for anything, living in the largest house on the West side of town. He uses his notorious good looks and money to gratify his every need, but is secretly obsessed with Mara, the only girl he cannot have. Once she appears in his yard in the middle of the night, almost as a knight in shining armor, he will do anything and everything in his power to make her his. Until a guy, NiKlaus Cuttingham, appears out of the shadows and threatens to take everything that is his.

NiKlaus Cuttingham is Chief of Police and all-around terrific guy, and brother of Mara Montgomery’s best friend, Megan. He finds himself hunting down the ‘bad guys’ and rescuing damsels in distress. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the girl-next-door would need some saving and he would find himself tangled in the middle of lies, deceit, and murder.

*********************************

I’m slowly finishing up the novel. I’m to the point where I have let someone have the first four chapters to read. I’m still scared to death – which of course, everything that the person says I overthink it && make it worse in my head.

The question is – from the blurb – would you read it?

I have had the blurb for the back of the book written for years, I’m not sure if I have ever shared it before, but here it is. I’m wanting to find one more person to edit it, start to finish, after I finish reading through it, but I’m not sure who to use. I know I can’t use an official editor, because I don’t have the money for it && I refuse to ask someone who does it for a living to do it for free. Because – that’s like asking me to go to work for a week && not get paid for it. I wouldn’t do it I don’t expect them to do it.

Anyhoo… I am up to chapter 19 of 29-ish. It’s either 28 or 29 chapters. Then I have to upload my changes once again && then hopefully find someone who…

I’m worried about giving it to someone who has been in my life for a long time because I fear they will tell me what they think I want to hear because they are afraid of hurting my feelings. It’s one of those, I’d rather them hurt my feelings because if they tell me it’s good, I go to get it published (whether I do it myself or through a company) the criticism will be worse than a friend/family telling me they didn’t like it.

Ya know?

I have my goal to finish is by Summer of 2022. Getting it published is a different story.

Stay on the same path.

The last couple of months has been pretty interesting health wise.

I don’t want anyone to think I have been hiding a secret heart attack, or a stroke – because I haven’t. I am referring to running out of a medicine, not being able to get ahold of that particular doctor, and making my blood sugar never get below three hundred for months. The scariest part of that is wondering what it was doing to the rest of me – on the inside – the parts that I can’t see.

So yesterday when I was heading to Denton for my heart doctor appointment, a part of me was petrified. Even during the echo I was laying there, with my eyes shut – praying. I told the atmosphere that I didn’t want to be taken out like this. I didn’t want to be another heart disease statistic and go into a book about how I was overweight, and my heart couldn’t take it anymore.

Testing after testing. Poking and prodding. The doctor finally came in to speak to me about the results. Before we go there, let’s rewind to last year. I was told I was in the 20-30 beats/percentage with my heart. Basically, my heart wasn’t beating enough so I am now considered to have heart failure. That’s a scary thought especially since all this time I was alone.

Fast forward to yesterday. The doctor came in and sat down in front of me, holding her notebook . I sat there, nerves killing me – waiting for her to tell me the last few months have set me back and I have to start over. That’s what I prepared for.

“Everything looks good. The numbers are good. Your echo was fantastic.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. All I could think was – at least it’s not worse.
“So fantastic that your heart is in the normal range. We want it to be in the 50-55 && you are in the 50-55.”
I just wanted to stand up and do a dance. I was over the moon knowing that everything I was doing was working and I am still going in the right direction.
“I have never seen someone get this kind of news && be able to get it set in the right direction this fast. I am so proud of you.”

I know I am not out of the woods. I know I have a lot of work to go. I need to continue to work on my weight. I’m still stuck in the 80’s, which has made me sad, but at the same time Boyfriend keeps telling me how long were you stuck in the 90’s? I have to admit he’s correct, I was stuck in the 90’s for a while so it’s just getting out of it. I want to blame the cold the last few months, but I honestly can’t. Truth is – I haven’t had the oomph to do it. I’m just tired all of the time.

That’s another thing I must figure out. Why am I tired all the time? Before I could blame it on my heart – now I can’t. Since it’s normal, my tired levels should be better, but they aren’t. My heart doctor wants me to get with my primary && do a sleep study – but the last time I was going to do that they wanted 2,000$ up front. I don’t have that kind of cash just laying around. It’s why I haven’t done one. Side thought: Should have done it last year after my deductible was met, but that’s for a different conversation.

I do know, though, if I keep losing weight my issues will continue to decrease. Less weight means no diabetes. Less weight means no high blood pressure. No diabetes && no high blood pressure means no medication.

That’s my dream. I dream of no medication && not dying without it. Know what I mean?

But for today, I’m going to be happy and celebrate the fact that I am going in the right direction. I just have to keep going && not get irritated and stop like I did last time. Which is what has put me in this position I am in today.

Bacon.

I googled today “blog topics”.

I really wanted to write a something but I didn’t have anything in mind to write about. So I pulled up the internet and googled it. Some of them were interesting but I came across one that made me laugh. Out of everything that you could possibly write about, the website said:

“Bacon. Who doesn’t love bacon?”

I laughed. I thought who would actually take the time to write a full blog about bacon? I understand that people do enjoy a good piece of bacon – alone, with something, in something, wrapped around something. But would someone actually read a full blog that was based on the popular breakfast food?

But the question more is – what could I say about bacon, that others haven’t already? Bacon. Pork Bacon.

I actually didn’t used to eat a lot of bacon as it upset my stomach, sometimes it still does. Then for awhile it gave me kidney stones because of the salt – although I found the underlying cause of that, so it wasn’t bacon. Recently, after the diabetes and such, I began cooking with bacon a little more. Not a lot of bacon, just enough to give a taste and probably a crunch since I overcook it (I tend to zone out).

I do enjoy the bacon jokes when people say they will take their bacon with a side of bacon, covered in bacon, and bacon on the side to dip their bacon in. When I still worked overnights && my job still has an employee dining room – I’d go get bacon, crumple it && put it in white gravy. Then I’d eat it with a spoon. Told that to the boyfriend && he said it sounded gross. Maybe not gross, but it could explain why I’m 9,000,000 pounds. (That might be a slight exaggeration.)

Bacon isn’t what will kill me. Butter is.

The websites also said to share a recipe with your readers. &&& since I chose bacon – I’ll share a bacon recipe with you. I call it warm corn and cabbage salad.

I first take a head of cabbage and chop it up.
Chop up an onion. I use white, but I’m sure it would be good with whatever kind you want to use.
Fresh corn on the cob – I cut the corn off.
Chop bacon into small pieces.

I first cook the bacon. I toss in the onions, and cabbage. Mmm-mm. After they cook a bit I add in the cabbage – season with your favorites (I tend to use pepper, onion powder, & garlic powder). Cook it a bit until you get the texture of the cabbage you want. Serve.

Well, I guess it is possible to write a blog about bacon.

To ghost or not to ghost.

When I was fifteen I lost my mother.

The day before she passed her && I spent the whole day together. I had woke up that day to get ready for school but something told me not to go. So I didn’t. I used the fact that my foot was broken, I said it hurt, to not go to school that day. Instead, we spent the day together.

At a point in the day she told me if there was anyway she could come back && let us know that she was safe, and had found her mother and grandfather, that she’d let me know. I joked, of course, && told her I wouldn’t do that unless you want to see me a lot earlier than you expected. We both chuckled.

She was scared that day. I didn’t realize it at the time. But she was. I remember going home that night helping her pack and get ready to go to the hospital. In the bag she had packed were letters she had written. They were for my brother, dad && me. When I found them that day I asked her about them && she said they were nothing && threw them away. A part of me wishes I hadn’t said anything. I have always wondered what it said.

The next day we drove to OKC Heart hospital. Waited all day. Drove home that night without her.

A few days pass, not many, just enough. My brother && I were in my bedroom – up on the shelf was a mantle clock that belonged to my great-grandfather. It hasn’t worked in years due to the fact that all of the inside pieces are in the bottom of it. That day the clock chimed three times. I looked at my brother who looked back at me. For a brief second – I was relieved. My brother & I have always believed, && I always will, that was my mother telling us that she found our grandmother && great-grandfather && that they were together.

Every so often I’ll see a shadow out of the corner of my eye – not all the time, and it’s usually subtle and doesn’t stay long. Just long enough, I guess. I’ll stare in the direction of the shadow – I don’t know if it’s in hopes of actually seeing her or just feeling comfort to know she’s there.

I just hope that she is proud of me. Even though my house is a mess, my life is a mess && I’m nowhere near being in the position that I thought I would be at 34. && I hope after my dad passed that he was able to find her. That they are together along with her parents, and his parents, siblings, etc. I hope that in the afterlife you do find your people && you know it. That it isn’t over after you die && there are great things for you waiting.