Category Archives: A day in the life

And The Clouds Could Move Away From The Sun

My asbestos friend made me a very thoughtful, handmade birthday gift, and I just had to share it.

It is a cross-stitch of the title of my book. And if you are wondering, “Why a cross-stitch?”, then you need to read the book. ‘Nuf sed.

The Wind Could Blow a Bug

The Wind Could Blow a Bug

This is not the first cross-stitch gift I have received from friends. I guess I must surround myself with creative people.

A close family friend has made me two large cross-stitch pictures over the years that now hang in my son’s room. When I got married, my green-haired friend undertook the ambitious task of creating a picture of the lighthouse bed and breakfast my husband and I honeymooned at on the shore of Lake Superior in cross-stitch.

Hmmm. This is inspiring me to go upstairs and dig through my own unfinished cross-stitch projects…

My first book, The Wind Could Blow a Bug is NOW AVAILABLE!

PURCHASE as a Paperback or eBook on Amazon.com TODAY.

Cracking Nuts

I asked for two things for Christmas this year. And I was so happy to get them both.

Works of Ahhh... Nutcracker Prince kit

Works of Ahhh… Nutcracker Prince kit

One item was a Decorate-Your-Own-Nutcracker kit. A number of years ago, for some strange reason, I became very fond of nutcrackers as Christmas decorations. At one point, I even had a six foot tall nutcracker, but I had to kick him out of the house. He was always breaking everything.

You are such a pig!  Leaving nut shells all over the floor...

You are such a pig! Leaving nut shells all over the floor…

I debated how to personalize my little hunk of wood. I am sharing the results with you here, honestly, because it seemed like a really easy blog post.

I present to you, Nutcracker Kid Rock.

I'm a pimp, you can check my stats.

I’m a pimp, you can check my stats.

Also, I wanted to give props to “Works of Ahhh…”, the makers of the kit. The nutcracker is a nice size for decorating, the paints cover in one coat, and the paint brushes are a nice enough quality to save for use on future artistic creations. The stickers included were useful, with details such as eyes and a mustache. The worst part of the project was the patience required to wait for paint or glue to dry before proceeding on to the next step.

It stinks that now that I have him all done and he looks so cool, I have to pack him away for next year. I will forget where I packed him among my dozen plastic storage boxes of Christmas decorations. I probably won’t lay eyes on him again for three years.

Now I am thinking it might have been fun to make a Hello Kitty nutcracker. Amazingly, that may be the one item that I have not seen her feline face plastered on.  Sanrio, get on that.

What was the other thing I wanted for Christmas, you ask? Here it is…

My first book, The Wind Could Blow a Bug is NOW AVAILABLE!

PURCHASE as a Paperback or eBook on Amazon.com TODAY.

What I Learned This Week – 1/4/15

This week I learned that it feels good to reach a goal, and then to receive your reward for reaching said goal.

Per my blog post from August 18, 2013, I made a promise to myself that when I published my first book, I could get a cool “Writer” tatoo. And in the last few weeks, I did publish my first book “The Wind Could Blow a Bug” by Jennifer Friess (available everywhere on Amazon that good books are sold). I actually reached this goal a year later than I intended. But I promise you, the next one will not take that long.

So, here is the result.

New tattoos make me feel so bad ass...

New tattoos make me feel so bad ass…

To answer my asbestos friend, “Yes, I love it”.

And even if I were to stop tomorrow and never write another word again, I am a published author.

I have sold a few copies too. Woohoo!

 

My first book, The Wind Could Blow a Bug is NOW AVAILABLE!

Purchase as a Paperback or eBook on Amazon.com TODAY.

Your Annual Dose of John Denver

This post was originally published on 12/11/2012. You can find the link to the original here:

https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2012/12/11/rocky-mountain-christmas/

To most, John Denver is a joke.

To me, he is the sound of Christmas.

When I was a kid, my mom had the record (large, round, vinyl black thing with grooves) Rocky Mountain Christmas by John Denver. She played it every year at holiday time. Christmas starts for me with the first few tinkling notes of Aspenglow.

Rocky Mountain Christmas by John Denver on CD & record, and John Denver: Christmas in Concert on CD

I would be happy if it was the only Christmas album I ever owned or played.

My mom didn’t own any other John Denver records. My crazy friend knew that I liked this Christmas album, so then on mix tapes she would put other non-Christmas John Denver songs. She didn’t understand. It wasn’t so much that I liked John Denver, it was that I liked his voice with this collection of Christmas songs from this period of time. From my childhood.

John Denver sings nice, straight-forward renditions of the classics: The Christmas Song, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, the seldom-heard Silver Bells, Away in a Manger, What Child Is This, Oh Holy Night (a spectacular version), and Silent Night. There is no Mariah Carey warbling.

The original songs on the album are some of my favorites. I already mentioned Aspenglow. Christmas for Cowboys paints a wonderful musical picture of a lonely holiday on the snow-covered plains. My husband likes Please Daddy (Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas). A Baby Just Like You is my favorite. John Denver wrote it for his own son Zachary. I love to belt out “MERRY CHRISTMAS LITTLE ZACHARY!” at the top of my lungs.

I know, I’m weird.

Sometimes now I change it to be my sons’ name.

Inside cover of Rocky Mountain Christmas, featuring the lyrics to A Baby Just Like You (I used to love to look at the details of this picture when I was a kid)

Several years ago my mom bought the album on CD, so it was very nice to be able to listen to it again. The problem was, we had only one copy that we shared. (I have no idea why I never thought about burning a second copy. Oh ya, because that would be illegal.;)

Last year I found my own copy of Rocky Mountain Christmas on CD. I even found a concert version of the same songs. My mom is very happy I am no longer hogging her CD.

I still don’t understand why none of the Christmas music radio stations play anything off this album. They play other seldom-played artists. They always need different artists singing the same 12 traditional songs. And it would make me so happy.

A Christmas Together: John Denver & The Muppets – Also a nice album, but just not the same for me

I kept my mom’s record of Rocky Mountain Christmas all these years, even though there was no way to play it.

Last year, my husband and I picked up a Fisher Price children’s record player from the 80’s at a garage sale and a handful of records.

So, while I totally enjoy digital clarity, the ability to listen to it in my car, and load it on my iPod, I am playing the original record for my son as I write this. Sure, it is scratchy from 37 years of use and improper storage and probably a pretty dull needle. But it takes me right back to being a preschooler myself in my living room in our house in Riga, Michigan. In the terrible 70’s clothes that my mom dressed me in.


When you listen to the CD, you don’t have to see his dorky appearance.

Excerpt: The Wind Could Blow a Bug – Chapter 1

TWCBAB_med

The Wind Could Blow a Bug
The Riley Sisters
Book 1
By Jennifer Friess
ISBN: 978-0692339565
#TWCBAB

Here is an excerpt from my upcoming young adult contemporary romance called The Wind Could Blow a Bug.  Sign up for email updates about publication at:  http://imnotstalkingyou.us9.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=f58cebd8190793e8348ca281f&id=a695e51c66

1

JANE

The Oakley town council meeting had started off typically enough. There was a review of the minutes from the last meeting, and the usual complaints about too much. This time it was too much noise and chickens. But with all the Tucker boys in attendance for the meeting tonight, a rare occurrence, it was only a matter of time before things got rowdy.

The main order of new business on the agenda was to discuss a nationwide pharmacy with plans to build a store at the edge of town. The tiny town, population 3,300, was divided on this particular issue. And so they piled into mayor Skip Wickley’s living room for tonight’s meeting.

Skip was a large black man, in both mass and stature. He was an impressive physical figure to lead the town, but he was often too busy trying to keep everyone happy to make effective decisions.

On a night of a normal meeting, there would have been plenty of room for everyone. Skip had a large old farmhouse. Usually only 30 or so citizens were in attendance. Tonight it looked as though a representative from almost every household in town was here. The living room and dining room were one combined space, as though a wall that had formerly divided them a hundred years ago had since been removed. Every inch of that space was needed tonight.

Jane Riley sat in the corner on the couch, with her spiral-bound notebook on her lap. Although only a high school senior, she was present at all the town council meetings. She took down notes and turned them into the regional newspaper to earn extra money for college. Twenty dollars per meeting. Since the town council was so small, her newspaper recap also served as official meeting minutes. Being quiet with few hobbies, she would take advantage of that on her college application by saying she was the secretary for the town council. As no one officially held that post, no one could really complain if she claimed it.

But tonight she was too distracted to take conscientious notes. Her attention was not on the debate, but instead on the group of four strapping farm boys standing up, trying to holler over one another. The Tucker boys were not the type of guys to give Jane the time of day. They were all older than Jane. Then again, no other boys in town were interested in her either. Jane had earned a reputation for being “shy”, a word she hated. In truth, she just didn’t care to socialize with the jocks and cheerleaders of her school. They had no clue that she could be funny and witty. Jane saw this as their loss, not hers. She was average in just about every way. She was an average height, with a thin frame, and light brown hair of an average length. She was often mistaken for several years younger than her 18 years. If Jane was a boy, she probably wouldn’t be interested in herself either.

The Tucker brothers all had hair damp from the showers they had taken before attending the meeting. It was nice that they had been considerate enough to wash off the day’s worth of dirt and sweat before they came. But they also had drowned themselves in cologne too. Were they all heading to the bar to pick up chicks after the meeting? The mix of four different colognes and testosterone filled the room and made Jane’s head spin, in a good way.

Evan Tucker was the father of all these men. He was nearing 50. While most fathers were old and chubby and balding, Evan was still a good-looking man. He would look right at home in an Eddie Bauer catalog. His full head of black hair was just starting to have some white mix in around the edges.

Randy was the oldest son. He had to be about 27 now, and helped his father run the business. He looked a lot like his father, but Randy was a few inches taller.

Josh was the second oldest. He was known around town as a prankster. This somehow made him easy to dislike. Josh sported a headful of brown hair and wore a goatee of perpetual stubble on his chin. Jane assumed that he did the same work on the farm as his brothers, but somehow he was thicker around the middle than the rest. He was 24 years old.

Wade was just a year younger than Josh. Wade was the Tucker boy most of the girls in town liked best. He had won the genetics lottery. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a face like a model. His smile had been known to stop traffic.

Oakley’s main street only had two lanes and one flashing signal. So really, sometimes a stray cat stopped traffic as well.

Pete was the youngest son. He had been a year ahead of Jane in school, which meant he was now out of school. He looked a lot like his mother. He was wiry, with dirty blond hair.

The discussion was breaking down as everyone talked over each other.

“The SaveRX would bring many jobs to our town.”

“But it would put my drug store out of business.”

“It sounds like a budget strip club.”

“The people from Parker would get all the jobs anyway.” This was unlikely. Parker was the next largest town about 40 miles away.

“Wouldn’t they need to use some of my land to build it at the proposed site? I am not selling. Does that mean you are going to use eminent domain to claim it?” asked Evan Tucker.

Now it was more obvious why the Tuckers were here. Mr. Tucker owned much of the farmland around Oakley, including all of the farmland on the west end of town where the pharmacy was to be built. He may look like a hick, but he was a very smart businessman. Mr. Tucker had kept his farm going and growing in a time when many had failed. He had managed to keep it in the family as well, an even bigger feat.

Tucker Farms had been started by Evan Tucker’s grandfather. Then it was very small and only fed the immediate family. Evan’s father grew it to have many cash crops and added many silos for grain storage to cover himself in times of bad weather until his death.

Evan took over the business in very different times. The old-time farmers were dying out, literally, and their children did not want to continue.   They wanted to get jobs at the automotive factory in Parker that offered a steady income and benefits. Or they just moved away to the cities, where they could get a job in anything. Evan started buying up the land. Often times he could not offer much, but the sellers snapped it up just to be rid of it. Evan began to diversify his products.

As Evan’s business was growing, the local grain elevators, the Oakley Co-Op, just called ‘the Co-Op’ by locals, were suffering. With the drop in the number of farmers using their buy, sell, and store services, they did not have the ability to make upgrades or pay their employees. When the Co-Op went out of business, Evan was put in the position of expanding his own operation to provide the services to other farmers in and around Oakley that they could no longer receive anywhere else. In a day and age when no one put down new railroad tracks, Evan found he had justification to have some laid between his elevators and the nearest rail spur a few miles away.

Evan had helped salvage what little community was left in Oakley. The goods he bought from the feed store and the hardware store kept them in business. The local tractor supply helped to keep his farming machines in running order. And so on. In turn, all those merchants could buy newspapers, groceries, and eat at the two restaurants in town. It was a delicate balance. Evan Tucker knew this, and it no doubt kept him up late nights.

“Ya, we ain’t selling,” Josh said.

“That is prime farmland,” Randy articulated.

“It is also the best make-out spot in town,” Wade said, smiling.

“You should know, Wade!” someone in the back yelled.

With that, the room let out a whoop and the conversation quickly was derailed from the task at hand. Wade seemed to be at the center of the chaos.

A great dig at Wade came to Jane. She crossed the room to get closer to the action, waiting for her turn to contribute. She felt self-conscious standing, so she sat in an available chair, left vacant by all those now standing. Wanting a better vantage point of the room, she sat on the back of the stuffed green plaid chair and put her pink Converse shoes on the seat. She began to remember that she wasn’t the kind of girl to speak up in meetings, especially to flirt with guys. As the conversation moved away from Wade, Jane knew her chance was gone. This made her relax a little. Although her brief moment of bravery, of just moving across the room, had already made her deodorant fail.