For the Mudskippers -- all of whom rock, by the way...

Check this out -- and, of course, after that, you must check out this...

No, I don't have too much time on my hands. I'm practicing work avoidance -- and having a small midlife crisis, too, I'm thinking! You'll absolutely HAVE to agree once you see this!

: }

Megan, who is now definitely in her 40s. But these are the wisdom years, right?!?!? (I sense there are a few who might disagree with attaching that adjective to moi!)

Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore...

At times, life can be trying. Horrifying. Unbelievable. And then, suddenly, fabulous again. So unpredictable, isn't it?

When I am unsure of the future or upset about the past -- or somewhere in the middle treading water -- I like to listen to this. Or better yet, this.  And if things are really getting crazy, I listen to this.

And if you're ever tempted to try to go back in time and relive the past... THIS!

Enjoy!

Yours -- with a pounding heart and a rockin' soul,

Megan Elizabeth

What a difficult week...

My mother had 80% of her stomach removed yesterday. I was disappointed that they weren't able to leave more, but my brother told me they had feared she would have no stomach at all and that her prognosis was very grim. It is looking like somehow the cancer was still localized and not metastacized as is the case with 80% of all stomach cancer victims -- because there are usually no symptoms until it's too late. Mom had no symptoms either, but a regular checkup revealed microscopic amounts of blood in her stool (sorry to be so graphic, but I have to pour my soul out somewhere!) When she had lung cancer several years ago, the same thing happened. A routine test revealed a large, agressive, fast-growing tumor wrapped around her windpipe. But they caught it in time to crush it with chemo. It seems (knock on wood and say a prayer) that they may have caught the stomach cancer early enough to cure it, too. But we aren't sure yet. There could still be lymph node involvement.

Cancer is ugly and cruel. I wish it didn't exist. But since it does, I am going to pray for a cure to be discovered. Wanna join me? Click comments and write down your prayer to eradicate cancer here on my blog, okay?

Yours -- when all else fails and your back's against the wall,

Megan Elizabeth

January 27 is Mozart's birthday... Let's celebrate!

If you have children and you want to get them interested in classical music in general or Mozart in particular, click here and enjoy!

Megan

Life gets tedious... or Why I still haven't finished my midgrade novel (and other excuses)

All I want to do is curl up on a comfy sofa with a cup of hot tea and a laptop and finish writing my midgrade. But what do I do each day instead? Hmmmmm...

Before I even get out of bed, I pray. You're about to find out why.

I get up at 5:30 with my high school-aged daughter, make her breakfast, pack her a lunch, see her off (her dad drives her to school which starts at an ungodly 7:15 am), then hit the computer.

Yes, sometimes I do LITERALLY hit the computer, but today, once I cement my hind quarters to the chair and start writing, I'm working on magazine articles, direct mail appeals, and brochures. 

Not my midgrade.

After a few hours of this, I reward myself with a cup of hot chocolate (homemade with semi-sweet chocolate chips and whipped cream on top -- sometimes I stick a Hershey's Special Dark miniature in for extra richness. Ooooh, la, la!). This special chocolate moment is interrupted by  a request for snuggles from a sleepy, homeschooled 11-year-old, hunger pains from a groggy 14-year-old, and a frantic "Where's a pencil? A pen? My makeup? My backpack? My cell phone?" from my 17-year-old who is attending college early and needs help finding everything but the kitchen sink, then a ride to the bus stop. 

After said ride to bus stop, I return home to begin teaching my two homeschooled sons -- which I do, with many interruptions, work phone calls, and a frantic call from high school daughter who ate her lunch during second period and knows she'll be desperately hungry if I don't drive through somewhere and bring her more food at lunchtime, which -- since school started so danged early -- is seriously close to pick-up time.

I bring her lunch at 12:20, race home to serve lunch to two hungry boys, then pick her up at 2:15, come home to return work phone calls, make snacks (Gee, these kids eat a lot!), and finish homeschooling. By this time, the boys have been at Nintendo for at least an hour while I was away instead of doing the assignments I gave them to complete by the time I returned home. They avoid this independent book work DAILY despite the fact that I assign them chores as a disciplinary measure each time. What can I say? They must love cleaning toilets.

I finish teaching, then work a bit more on the articles that are almost overdue. And did I mention we're remodeling our house? About this time, the remodeling crew calls. Carpet is in, tile is not. Can't finish without the tile. Oh, wait! We don't have any more of that tile, not even at the factory in Brazil. Ahhh, never mind. We found some -- in The Bahamas -- but you'll have to pay extra for them to ship it here. 

My mind swirling, I drive to the bus stop to pick up collegiate daughter while thinking about what to make for dinner. It occurs to me that I should have done this much sooner (the thinking part) because what we have in the fridge would have been perfect for a slow cooker meal. Too late for that, though. 

I stop by the gas station to grab a Dasani because I suddenly realize I haven't had anything to drink all day. I try to remember if I ate lunch, but the answer escapes me. Collegiate daughter back at home, I race to the sandwich shop to buy subs for dinner, arriving home in time to get boys into scout uniforms for their dad to take them to Boy Scouts. I throw them a sub sandwich and usher them to the car where Dad is waiting. I then grab collegiate daughter and toss her back in the car, sub sandwich and violin in hand, to go to orchestra rehearsal. 

High school daughter, home alone, calls my cell phone. It's dark outside and she's afraid to let the dogs out even though she knows they need to go out. I reassure her, advise turning on more lights, then realize she can't because the remodeling crew turned off the electricity in half the house. Instead of grabbing a coffee while collegiate daughter is at orchestra practice, I race home to comfort high school daughter, arriving just in time to watch poodle puppy make a puddle.

Dogs crated, daughter encouraged, I head back to orchestra rehearsal to pick up collegiate daughter who is, remember, still only in high school. She tells me she forgot to sell peanuts and must pay $50 to the orchestra instead. While driving home, husband calls to remind me I have web copy to write for him before day's end.

Home again, I toss my shoes in the closet, put on jammies and slippers, and get back on the computer to write that web copy. It's now 10 pm and I've been up since 5:30 am. I'm dazed and confused. The copy sounds pathetic. I type and retype. Stop and send 11-year-old back to bed three different times. I try again. I reword things. Eat chocolate. Start over. 

Then I decide to stop and write on my blog instead...

So what keeps YOU from finishing your novel????

Wackiness and Weirdness...

A fellow blogger in Charlotte found my blog and she's almost a carbon copy of me. (I think she's a few years younger, but only a few...) Check out her comments below.

I also added to my profile if you are inclined to find out more about moi!

Yours -- with parrot on shoulder and doggie in lap,

Megan Elizabeth

This is not good... Please pray.

My mother was diagnosed with stomach cancer two days ago. I know an 80-year-old woman who has lived a long and healthy life could acquiesce to this condition and leave quietly for her future home. But my mother is a fighter and will probably kick this thing in the hind quarters as hard as she can. But please pray for her. I have a feeling the doctors are writing her off because of her age. But they haven't yet staged the cancer. It could be totally curable. Her name is Nancy, and we covet your prayers on her behalf.

Megan Elizabeth -- desperate in sorrow and triumphant in joy!

We closed on our loan!!!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the Hoyts finally got their money. We have so much to do to finish this house, though. I don't know how we're going to manage on the budget we have, but God does. I'll keep you all posted.

Meanwhile...

Check out my friend Jody's blog. She thought I was an Indian giver (native american giver? Oops, I'm not very politically correct. No harm intended!) Here's proof that I'm not!

Megan Elizabeth, queen of the monkeys

I have been remiss!

But I'm back and blogging again. It's January fifth, the evening before Twelfth Night. We always have a twelfth night party at our house. We play old-fashioned parlor games, light candles instead of electric lights, and crown a king and queen of the twelfth night. There are two cakes. One for girls and one for boys. A tiny pea is placed somewhere in the boys' cake and whoever finds it is the king. Inside the girls' cake, there is a tiny bean. Whoever gets the bean is the queen of the twelfth night. They get to boss around everyone and make them bring things to them all evening. It's such fun. 

I'm off to help decorate!

Megan Elizabeth -- alias, Queen of the Twelfth Night!