The calendar never lies...



Courtesy of Getty Images

I've found my month passing by rather rapidly. Every time I look at my calendar, I am left feeling kind of woozy at the passage of the days. Since classes are only a month long where I work, I find teaching to be white-hair inducing when the months are incredibly shortened... As they were this month.
We lost the first day of class thanks to the New Year's observation. We then lost another day this month for MLK Day. It wouldn't be so difficult if this were a traditional school setting, but we teach on a 1-class-per-month schedule. I did the math (with great difficulty) and discovered that each day of class is essentially 1 week in a traditional setting. That means I am cramming 2 weeks worth of material into other classes throughout the month. So, I've done that, my students have learned something despite their best efforts, and the month draws to a close.

On top of the two class shortened month, though, I also managed to hurt my back part of the way through the month. Usually I can catch it before it really gets bad, but this month it went from zero to "OH HOLY CHRIST THAT SMARTS" in a day. At one point I woke up, judged my back pain as "not too bad", stood up, and immediately sat back down on the bed. Apparently the process of standing caused a muscle spasm and that never goes well. Big Guy bought me a heating pad and made sure I had ibuprofen, so I spent a week hobbling through the house and ensconced on our sofa with a heating pad on my back.

What all of this has done, more than anything else, is make me cranky. I am cranky, I feel old, and I am tired. I am behind on so many things that I want to do because I've been babying myself. But, I've also avoided things I NEED to get done... Like write. I haven't worked on my story at all since the changing of the year and I'm irritated with myself for it. Part of it is more than internal frustration.

I'm feeling angsty and frustrated with certain things. I just need to suck it up and get over it. Instead, I intend to focus on what I am going to do in the spring and summer as the seasons change. Little Guy and I have already been discussing what plants we want to grow. Little Guy wants to plant peas and tomatos for sure. I'm surprised he didn't ask for carrots! I know I need to get sage, basil, oregano, mint, lemon balm, and other delicious plants to grow. For the first time in a couple years I am excited about the growing season. We are no living in a place where things can actually grow!

2011 in Review - Now with 2012 Resolutions!

This holiday season ate me up and spit me out.  I don’t know where time went and I don’t know how it got so crazy leading up to Christmas.  By the week before, I still had almost all of my shopping left to do, a party on Christmas Eve with no food, and we barely had a tree….  However, by the time Christmas did roll around, the tree was decorated, food was prepared (including some amazingly good mulled wine), gifts were wrapped, and much fun was had by all. 

Now, as I finish the holiday week, I look back over the year and it’s really been a very interesting year.  We moved, things changed, life evolved… And, most importantly, we survived.  In a way, I feel like a twig caught in the currents of my life.  I am buffeted to and fro, hither and yon, swept away by things I cannot see and cannot understand.  I’ve made it through, but I feel kind of overwhelmed and clueless.  I suppose that is a symptom of life as well. 

I am blessed in that it has been a good year, even despite difficulties.  I feel as though I am where I should be.  Even on boring nights at home, where I sit on the sofa with my crocheting or a book, and Big Guy putzes around on his computer while Little Guy plays a game/watches a movie/creates chaos, I feel at peace and content.  I like who and where I am. 

So, what lessons have I learned this year… 

I’ve learned that my tolerance for drama is at an all time low.  I’ve dealt with enough upheaval in my own life that if others want to create or bathe in drama, I can’t handle it anymore. It stresses me out, makes me tense, and I want to run away.  So, I’ve recognized that running from it may be the best option and I do. 

I’ve learned that I need to push myself harder to get things done.  I won NaNoWriMo.  Now I need to push myself to finish the book.  Get it written, get it revised, and get it out.  I have to stop caring whether or not it’s crap.  If Stephanie Meyer can get that misogynistic, cardboard drek published…  So can I. 

So, I resolve to complete my book and submit it for publication over the next year.  It’s grown in scope and I discovered as I wrote that I needed to go back even further.  I resolve to have a fantastic garden and to find new and wonderful opportunities to educate my child.  I resolve to create a peaceful, happy home for my family and to continue to put my best efforts into my marriage and my parenting. 

2011 was interesting and it ended on an extremely positive note.  Here’s hoping 2012 carries on getting better. 

Wordless Wednesday - - Worth 1000 words

How about 30000

NaNoWriMo - Hot or not?

While I haven't been writing in my blog, I HAVE been writing. I'm over 20000 words into my NaNoWriMo piece and finding myself struggling with certain genre vs character issues. Big Guy has been reading over my work and feels that it's well written over all. I still struggle with being descriptive and not rushing through scenes, so I'm erring on the side of overly descriptive. I can always go back and cut things, I feel. It's harder to add.


However, my book is not some fluff piece of happily-ever-after. The main character is a man (my first big struggle) and the female lead has dealt with some pretty tough things. You have a man coming specifically to woo a queen. This queen has remerged to run a kingdom after nearly a century. She was enslaved and then in hiding, so her view of the world is definitely different. It's harder and grittier. Also, she's not quite the same noblewoman as her peers. She deals with things differently, she perceives things differently, and she reacts to situations differently.

The problem comes when I finally have the characters "get together" in the novel. She finally acquiesces to their connection... It's important, I feel, to show how fully she has given to him. Big Guy does not necessarily agree, thinking that sex, for the most part, should not be part of a true fantasy setting. I think a large part of it depends on the world created. Is it a Disney-fantasy world with gender neutrality and happily-ever-after? In that case, good god no sex please. Or are we dealing with the seamier side of life? And perhaps that's where my descriptions are falling down... This is a dirty place. Slaves are not treated well, rapes and violence happen... Power is acheived through might, whether it's magical might, physical might, or political might. Bad guys aren't just mustache twirling villains... They are evil personified. They go out and kill kittens because they can...
 
There doesn't seem to be a clear answer on how to handle this though. I consulted the great Google machine, but finding an answer when sex and fantasy are involved is rather disturbing. At this point, I'm just going to push through to 50,000 and worry about the revision and sex afterward.

Novels and Scrivener

Tomorrow, NaNoWriMo begins. I'm a bit nervous about it since I have NEVER tried this before. I've been writing my entire life, I've started numerous books and novels, and I have been working on the same book for six years running. I finally decided to buckle down and get one done.

It's not the book I've been working on for six years... Instead, I am going to start a new one to slam out in one month. This is going to be an interesting exercise for me. I have to keep up with an average of 1667 words per day to meet the 50000 word count goal. I want to do it. But will wanting be enough?

Likely not. However, I have to admit that I finally caved and went to a novel writing software to help me. I ended up with Scrivener (they're offering a special trial through December 7th for NaNo writers) and I have to admit... I'm in love. For someone with ADHD, one of my biggest stumbling blocks are the several different documents I have to have open to track characters and settings or scrolling through the story to remind myself how I want things to go.

Scrivener keeps me in one program and flipping through the items is as easy as clicking a mouse. It even comes with a "corkboard" to place idea cards. It keeps my attention focused on the scene I'm writing, preventing me from scrolling through everything I've written to try and revise. I know better than to revise as I write, but I still attempt it anyway. Not anymore! Tomorrow begins a new writing dawn. A novel writing dawn one might even say... (how droll).

Because we must

Nicole over at The World of My Imagination wrote about writers and blogging... Her conclusion is sound... Writers need to blog. Why?

Writing - copyright J. Paxon Reyes

Well, I firmly believe that writers blog for the same reason they write. They must. It's similar to mountains and mountain climbers. It's there, so it must be climbed. The words exist, so they must be put down. Hell, I've been writing stories since elementary school. In my case, I always felt the stories churning around in my head and had to get them out on paper. It's like a sore in your mouth. You know it hurts to touch it, but you still poke at it with your tongue.

I can't help but write. I get antsy if I don't write, but I also have a love-hate relationship with writing. I'll go through spurts where I write nonstop. I throw every word in my head onto the page and then some.... And then I look at what I've written and trash it because I am convinced it sucks. I feel like it is the worst writing that has ever been since the first caveman (or woman) spit paint around their hand. I understand this is a common problem with writers. We are our own worst critics.

I haven't figured out how to get past that yet. I'm open to suggestions, because I have several half-started books kicking around and random story bits that never seem to get finished. Part of it may be my ADD/perfectionism, though. I have so many partial projects and so few completed ones. It's scary. I think that's where my difficulty in applying to grad school is stemming from as well. What if I get in, and I'm told my writing sucks. I can take constructive criticism, but to be told that I CANNOT write would be horrible.

It doesn't even matter that I know I am at least a passable writer. It doesn't matter that I have had people nag me to finish stories so they could read them... I still am convinced all my writing is horrible... So I hide it away and only let it out occasionally. I want to finish my book(s). I know where I want the stories to go. Unfortunately, I sit down to work on them and end up getting distracted by revising... Which leads me to reading them... Which causes me to think: "This is horrible! No one wants to read this!" And then I abandon writing it for another few months, only to start the process again.

I think, this November, I am actually going to buckle down and do NaNoWriMo... Anyone want to do it with me?

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Krafty Kitten is taking a huge leap forward, as you can see.  I've changed the formatting (a bit) and I am hopefully improving the content.  The change reflects (in a way) the changes we've been going through around here.  Aside from the move, Little Guy has started being homeschooled, Big Guy is still the house-husband, and I, the intrepid instructor, am trying to talk myself into going back and getting my Master's degree. 

Right now, my vacation week is winding to a close.  I had a great time at home with my guys.  We were productive indoors since it rained most of the week.  Hopefully, we'll be able to enjoy the outdoors in the next week.  I'd like to have Little Guy look at trees as the seasons change from summer to fall.  I have grand plans that will probably never quite work the way I want them to.  Such is the price of having a Little Guy like mine. 

Tonight, my last night, I am cooking dinner and then showering since I spent the whole day putting together next month's plan for my class.  I have a few new tricks up my sleeve and I really needed this break to recharge those creative juices.  The dinner I put together was quick and relatively easy.  Big Guy had cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast and we had a pan with bacon grease on the bottom of it.  I took chicken breast tenderloins and fried them, onions, garlic, green beans, and spices in the pan.  Then I boiled some angel hair pasta, drained it, and tossed it with the chicken mixture and fresh basil.  It turned out really well though I may have over done the red pepper a smidge. 

The shower will be appreciated since I feel like I'm coming down with a cold.  Perfect timing.  I'll pop some cold meds before bed and hopefully kick this before it starts.  I hate being sick, and being sick while teaching is a full measure of suck.  We do what we must though and I am determined to make this an excellent month. 

One final note, I did get my interview published on Mommy Page.  It even has a picture of me!  SO EXCITED! 

How would my story be told?

The National Public Radio released an article recently on the stories people tell as their lives come to a close. The psychiatrist who ran the study noticed that the stories people tell take a very different tone and focus as they are dying.  That got me thinking...  What would my story be?  Who would I want to have it? 

Everyone wants to believe that they matter.  Everyone wants to believe they made an impact on others' lives.  Why?  Probably because people really are small in the scheme of things.  With 6 billion people on the Earth, it's difficult to say that anyone can make a definite impact on anything.  Most people never write a great novel, sing an amazing song, or paint a spectacular picture.  Very few will become politicians or activists who actually make any sort of impact. 

I've come to believe the impact we make will depend solely on the people we interact with.  I realized that I've had about 400 students pass through my classes.  I've seen many of them succeed and graduate.  Even now, I have former students stop by just to say "hi."  I am pleased that, even if they don't LOVE English, they got something worthwhile out of my class.  I also know I can't reach everyone.  Sometimes, some of my students don't make it.  I hate that, but it is what it is. 

So when it comes down to it, I'd tell my story for Little Guy.  And I would want him to see what I accomplished and what he could accomplish.  I'd want him to know that I followed my heart...  Both in my career and in my personal life.  I married his father out of love, and I loved both of them more than anything.  I would want him to know how much I valued my education and how important critical thinking is.  More importantly, I'd want him to know that no matter what, I'm proud of him.  He's an amazing, brilliant child, and he can grow into an amazing brilliant man. 

I'd also write for Big Guy.  I'd want him to know that of all the unexpected things in life, he topped my list.  I'd try to make him see himself how I see him.  He's intelligent, sensitive, and creative.  I'd want him to have more confidence, to believe in what he can do more than he currently does.  He often sells himself so short. 

My mom would need to get a copy too, just so I can tell her how much I love her.  I like who I am, and I wouldn't be who I am without her.  I wouldn't have been able to achieve this without her...  Though I could have done without the writing addiction.  I blame her for that. 

I may never write the Great American Novel.  I may never give magnificent speeches or go to unique and spectacular places.  But I think I have made an impact.  And I am proud of the impact I made.  I think that's the important part when it comes to the end of life.  Did you do the best you could?  And I think I have.  

An Open Letter to Bad Students

Yes. I teach a super-basic English course. I teach you how to correctly put words into sentences, how to put sentences into paragraphs and how to put paragraphs into an essay. I've been doing this for a long time. Longer than you've been here, and I will probably still be doing it long after you've gone, whenever and however that may be. I work hard to make a very dry and usually boring subject somewhat interesting. I know you think this is a stupid, easy, fluff course, but you would not be in this class if you didn't need it. You took a test for placement and failed badly enough that you are mine. 

And so here we are. You on your side of the desk and me on mine. And guess what? No matter what, I win. For the time you are in my class, I am the most important person in your world. Or at least you should act that way. Why? Because teachers aren't stupid. When we're in the lab and you're tap-tapping away on your keyboard or clicking away at your mouse, I KNOW you aren't paying attention to me. And believe me, I know who you are and I will call you out on it. If you're sitting there, slack-jawed with your book closed next to you as I am lecturing about a chapter, I know it's not English you're thinking about. And it adds up. 

You start as a blank slate in my class. By the end of the first day of class, I have identified the students who are going to be most difficult. You know who you are. You are the student who thinks you're so damn wonderful that you can be all cute with the teacher and she'll fall all over herself to give you an A because you're just that amazing. If you think that, think again. Because, in conjunction with me being the most important person in your world while you are in my room, I also have little to no patience for your "cuteness". Your cuteness is not awesome, it is not amazing, and your winning personality will not get you an A. I don't care if you know this; I don't care if you don't want to do the assignment. If you want your grade, you have to earn it. You do not pay my salary. I earn it. You pay for the amazing opportunity to be in my class.

You are also the student who keeps a notebook of excuses. I'll let you in on a secret... I don't care if your dog's uncle's cat's brother ate your homework. I don't care if your car caught fire and burned all your books inside it. If you didn't call me, email me, or leave me a message, it's an excuse. And, if you do this at least once per class session, I probably don't believe you anymore. If you cared about my course, you'd find a way to make those excuses nonexistent. 

My patience is wearing thin. I've explained something just to have to re-explain it five minutes later because a student was doodling flowers in her notebook and is now lost, and I've done that 5 times in half an hour. When a "cute" student ignores me for the better part of a class only to interrupt me five times as I'm trying to explain the assignment, it makes me want to stab my eyes out with a pen. When I'm trying to explain a concept and a student full of excuses is interrupting me to answer a question on the lab assignment that they are doing instead of listening to me, it makes me want to unplug the computer and throw it through the window. Even worse, it causes a deep wellspring of pity for the students who do care and are trying to learn. Because while I am stuck with them for a month or two (or three), these guys will work with them in all their other courses.

I'm sorry, smart, conscientious students. I am sorry that there seems to be such a vast chasm between you and your peers. Do not fall into their trap. Do not think that because they passed, you do not need to work as hard as you do. Because, at the end of the day (or college career) you can come to me for a letter of recommendation and I will give it. I will not be "too busy" for you. If you need help understanding something in another course, I will be more than happy to sit down with you or act as a go between for you and your instructor. You have fostered that trust and you have earned your place. And it is nothing to be ashamed of, so do not fall into their trap.

The bad students are a swampy morass of helplessness and entitlement. They don't know anything, don't want to really improve their lot if it means work, and don't think they should have to do anything anyhow. They pay their money, they should get a degree. That's not how life works. And, by God, that will not be how my class works. So go ahead. Yell at me. Roll your eyes at me. Grumble beneath your breath about these "stupid assignments" and complain just in earshot about how worthless you think they are. I don't care, and in fact, it makes me giggle a bit on the inside because you'll be doing them again when you fail. Tell me how your cat ate your car and that's why you missed 3 classes in a row. It makes no difference to me. You'll take the course again and I will still get paid. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. Get used to it.



Love

An English Teacher on the Edge

Little Guy is Spirited not Strong-willed

I'm confining myself to the same strictures I put on my students and forcing myself to sit and write for 10 minutes straight.  Well, at least as straight as a parent who is home with a 4 year old can make it.  Right now, I'm up to about a minute of uninterrupted time.  I'm seriously impressed. 

Currently, Little Guy is ensconced in the hall with his cars.  I can't get him to finish his "brep-fast" of a banana on a hot dog bun smeared with peanut butter.  He asked for it and now he won't eat it.  Meals have become a battle ground.  Short of forcing him to sit, we're stuck with fighting him every step of the way to eat.  This has become the new "potty" argument. 

One of the things I have done recently is look up advice on "Strong willed" children.  I immediately decided I didn't approve of the group who had take "strong willed" as their banner phrase and instead decided to go with the parents of spirited children.  It may not seem to make sense, but I've discovered the advice on parenting "strong willed" children seems to advocate breaking their spirit and bending them to the parent's will.  Advice on parenting "spirited" children seems to advocate working with the spirited child and encouraging them to keep their sense of self while working within the bounds of society. 

I don't want to break his spirit or individuality.  He's going to need it as he gets older.  I want him to be able to make his own decisions and to be firm in his convictions.  I want him to not be afraid to stand up for the right thing, even if most people disagree with him.  I don't think that forcing him to follow a narrow path is the best way to do that.  Of course, I also have issues with society as a whole right now. I don't want him to follow the path that so many people seem to follow and be apathetic and content with the status quo. 

I think spirited children are our future and quite likely our only hope.  If we're so keen to make them fit into the cubby holes that society has deemed appropriate, we will never improve the situation in our country.  If Edison or Lincoln had done that which was expected of them, we would still be enslaving people by candlelight.  And, unfortunately, he has me for a mother.  I hate following the well-worn paths.  I'd much rather poke around and discover what I can find on my own.  I want him to feel comfortable doing that too. 

What this means for me, however, is a long period of time where I will be frustrated and irritated because my son has a mind of his own.  I just have to let him learn some things through trial and error.  Right now, we're not going to go outside because he hasn't finished breakfast.  Once he finishes breakfast, I will go out with him and turn on the sprinkler and let him play to his heart's content.  But he's being his spirited self and I suspect that won't happen before I have to get ready for work. 

We can't communicate and we're too lazy to care

Writing should be an important topic in schools, but the more I teach, the more I realize it’s not stressed nearly enough. This month, I am teaching a “Fundamentals of English” college course. This course teaches the basics of English to students. I cover parts of speech as well as basic writing skills, and I try to do it in 12 hours a week for four weeks.

Really, it’s not nearly enough time. The students need more time to practice, more time to assimilate the information, and more work to do. In some cases, I deal with students who don’t have a clue what a complete sentence is, let alone how to identify a run-on sentence. There are also students who just don’t grasp why the parts of speech are important, even after I give my puzzle analogy. I tend to work my tail off these four weeks and go home exhausted every night, but I also find it more fulfilling than the higher level classes.

In the higher level writing courses, they have been jaded to the writing process and just don’t want to do it. They have also reached a certain “in school laziness” where they are more willing to slough off the work to the last minute. In the Fundamentals class, they are at least still somewhat excited to the new process of school.

But, in all cases, the writing abilities of some of my students saddens me. How is it that our country is producing graduates who don’t know how to communicate properly? And why have we let it go on thus far? Currently, we are a nation at the top of the heap, but we can’t bring ourselves to educate our children to continue that trend. Instead, we produce citizens who don’t know what their rights are, don’t know how to communicate those rights, and, even worse, are too apathetic to care.

It seems the baby boomer generation, the one that produced the changes in the 60’s and 70’s, did not imbue their children with the same restless spirit. Well, most of them at least (I know my mom did). But they also did not give their children the work ethic that our grandparents had. Our country has lost its inventive spark because it’s too much effort to create, whether it be creation of the lightbulb or creation of a book.

Potty Watch and Midterms

I'm taking advantage of the silence this morning to sit down and write this entry.  Little Guy is still asleep and so my busy day hasn't started yet.  I watched my Orange County Housewives reunion show and ate a bagel.  I'm enjoying the silence so far. 

Yesterday was full of screaming and wailing as I put the kibosh on fun times unless potty time was implemented.  By the end of the day yesterday, I was more than ready to close the day with a seriously strong drink.  I am realizing that my son is more than capable of holding his own line, even in the face of an upset mommy and daddy.  However, because of that, I spent a lot of time with an angry, screaming, whining 4 year old who could not understand why mommy would not help him or give him what he wanted. 

Tonight is the midterm night for this month's class and they have a paper due tonight as well.  I am still scrambling to finish up the papers from the first week, and I have almost finished.  However, a comment from a student threw me into a tizzy and now I am trying to decide how or even if to approach it with the students who were upset by it.  Right now, I am leaning towards getting a feel for the emotions of the class today, a full 48 hours after "the incident" and seeing if it needs to be addressed or not.

In the meantime, I'll get back to grading.  Ugh.   And here's Little Guy...  Time for another day of potty drama and cuteness! 

Beg, Borrow and Write

So, if you haven't noticed, I have started a support this blogger page.  I read an article which smacked some sense into me and made me bite the bullet to do so.  It asked what your reasons were for writing your blog and pointed out that, if you want to earn money from blogging, you have to be shameless.  So, I swallowed my pride and have put up a bit of begging.  I apologize in advance. 

Now, I will admit, most of my motivation in putting fingers to keyboard and blogging stems from my own deep-seated need to write. As I explain to my writing students, writers have a love-hate relationship with writing.  It controls you, forces you to write and then smacks you upside the head.  The writing process sucks.  You put everything into your writing, and then you look at what you've created and, as a writer, realize that you think it sucks.  It's horrible.  So then you re-write, and re-write, and re-write...  Writing is a cruel mistress, capricious and mean. 

But, writing can also earn you a bit of cash.  I have done freelance writing for pay, and I have tutored in writing for pay. My real-world job involves teaching people how to construct viable essays and papers. And, I have obviously monetized this blog.  (Hello Google, thanks for giving me some pay.  I <3 you).  If you are a good enough writer, if your writing can resonate with people or interest them in some way, they will come back.  Most of the information you find on blogging says that you need to figure out what the hot topics are and write on those, but I am a stubborn, prideful little wench and tend to write about things that I find interesting. I have to accept that it may mean I will never become popular, but I also believe that the sheer force of my personality and the fact that I'm just so darn cute will win out over that. 

If it doesn't, I'll rely on the fact that my son is so darn cute. 

Characters of life

As a writing instructor, I have to guide my students to write properly in many areas.  This month, in the fundamentals class, I teach them how to construct proper sentences and paragraphs.  In Composition I and II we cover six other types, from a process analysis paper all the way to persuasive essays.  In there, as well, we teach them what makes up a good story and the basic elements of plot.  In my Comp II classes, I finish the month with a movie and a brief overview of interpretive analysis papers and how to identify whether or not characters are rounded or flat.

As humans, our lives tend to be filled with many rounded characters; they have their light sides and their dark sides.  Life falls into many grey areas and we are left to decide what is acceptable.  As a writer, I try to plan out all my characters.  I know their background and history, I know their likes and dislikes.  I know what makes them tick.  And, with all my characters, I always include a "fatal flaw".  And like most writers, my characters' fatal flaws are based on my own experience with such flaws. 

I recognize my weaknesses, whether or not I want to.  I recognize I suffer from a certain amount of hubris.  I don't think it's a large amount, but I can also recognize times where my pride can get in the way.  I can also recognize the good that pride can achieve.  It's that pride that allows me the confidence to stand in front of a classroom night after night and teach. 

I also recognize that, at times, I may be a little stubborn and headstrong.  I will throw myself eagerly into the fray if I feel that it is the right thing to do.  This can be bad since, in my headlong rush to join in, I don't take stock of the situation and will, quite often, find myself pitted against stronger foes than me.  Big Guy has been known to yank me out of situations he has decided were too dangerous, either for me or overall.  He's described watching me handle these situations as akin to watching a small kitten face off against a large dog where the kitten thinks it's bigger than it is and the dog doesn't know what to do with the little thing hissing and spitting at it. 

Really, our quirks make us who we are,  I am always looking out for those interesting quirks in people because they are fascinating and wonderful.  Big Guy, the love of my life, has his own share of quirks.  He has a "white knight complex" which has led to his share of hard times.   However, it also led to our getting together when he helped me move in a pinch.  People are such interesting things. 

What are your flaws?  What flaws, if you write, are always there in your characters? 

Chicken Soup for the Writer's Belly

The first day of class went well.  The group seems, if not interested, at least energized for now.  This is a good thing because we'll end up feeding off eachother's energy.  I find that if the class is more energetic, I am more enthusiastic.  And that leads to a higher energy in the classroom!  It becomes a cyclical thing and keeps class interesting and fun. 

We went through the writing process last night which. I told them, is the reason that most writers are alcoholics, drug addicts or both.  I also explained that no one, not even writers, like the writing process and that writers have a love/hate relationship with their chosen profession.  I love writing, it's in my blood, and I adore it but oh how I hate the process. 

I've been working on my novel for 6 years.  Yes, you read that correctly, SIX.  I found out that there's actually a term for this process.  Unpublished Guy calls it "Slow Writing your story into oblivion". 

On the one hand, it's nice to know, as a writer, you aren't alone.  On the other hand, I really wish that I could find the wherewithal to finish the book.  Finding the time, the energy and the desire to write is difficult.  Of course, that's why I've gotten back into blogging.  I am forcing myself to write on a daily basis and perhaps, eventually, work on the book again.  Good luck to me! 

Yesterday was somewhat chilly despite the sunlight.  I woke up early and was unable to go back to sleep, so I got up and decided to make chicken soup.  We had ended up with 3 large chicken breasts thanks to Big Guy and his ideas.

The plan, initially, was a chicken marinara with melted cheese.  And it certainly sounded delicious...  Right up to the point that I realized Big Guy had bought the cheap chicken breasts, with the skin on them and bones still in them.  When I explained the work it was going to take to debone the chicken, he decided that, perhaps, the chicken marinara wasn't the right meal after all.  I assuaged his sadness with a promise to make my chicken soup though. 

Big Guy loves my chicken soup, and I try to make it most often in the fall or winter. It's a long simmering soup that takes about a day to cook and is truly worth it.  This one started out with a pot of water and some seasoning.  I added celery seed, black pepper, sage, rosemary, thyme, parsley, salt and garlic. I always kind of eyeball the addition of seasonings and taste often throughout the cooking process.  After I got the pot to a rolling boil, I added the defrosted chicken breasts and let that cook for an hour.

The house smelled so good during that hour, my belly was rumbling.  I was relieved when the timer went off and I was able to lower the pot to a simmer and pull out the breasts.  While the broth simmered and bubbled, I skinned and deboned the breasts and tore apart the largest one to add back to the pot.  The other two will probably be shredded into a cheese and chicken omelette for Little Guy and I for breakfast. 

I added the shredded chicken and chopped up a carrot and an onion to throw in the pot and let it cook for another hour, getting the carrots soft and the onion practically invisible.  I then threw in some frozen green beans and let it finish cooking.  I managed to nab a small bowl before I left for class and it was really, truly worth it.  While I was gone, Big Guy and Little Guy finished off most of the soup and then I had a couple more bowls when I got back. And not alone either, Big Guy had another bowl and Little Guy had two more. 

Kitten's Chicken Soup

Chicken Breasts (bone in & skin on)
Salt
Pepper
Water
Seasonings - recomm. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, Thyme, Bay Leaves
Veggies - Recomm. Carrot, celery, onion, green beans

This simple and tasty treat involves hours of simmering goodness

1 - bring water and seasonings to a rolling boil. 
2 - add chicken breasts and simmer for an hour, adding water as needed.  The skin will add all the fat you need to the broth
3 - Pull the breasts out of the water and let the broth simmer while you debone and skin the breasts.  Then, shred the meat and add to the broth.
4 - Chop and add the veggies and simmer
5 - Add water and seasonings to taste during the cooking time

Delicious!