Humans, their seasons, and a tomato...

 August 30, 2023

The summer progresses, as summers often do. I find myself wondering why on earth I was so eager for this one to get here. Seriously, it’s been making a complete mess of things, don’t you think? Remember those really cold days just a few months ago, this past winter? How we all put our hopes and trust on spring and summer giving us the blessed relief we craved. We had not fully formed images in our minds of sweet, warm days, idyllic scenes with slight breezes and distant but delightful birdsong. Maybe you imagined a bower, private and welcoming. Perhaps there was a hammock in this image, or a lounge chair with a pillow to cradle our world-weary head.

And then those two seasons, once more posing as inseparable twins so one could not tell where the first ended and the second began, arrived. There was heat and rain, rain and heat. The air was thick with humidity, and it felt as if we were once more living within a trap. This one, of course, was a hot trap instead of an icy cold trap, but a trap none the less. For far too many this idyllic summer has instead been an almost insufferable inferno.

I am coming to the conclusion that we humans are endlessly fickle and eternally impossible to please. We are seriously flawed—because we do tend to equate contentment with circumstance, and that, I believe, is always a mistake.

Later today I am finally off to purchase my new glasses. It’ll be a week until they’re ready, but that’s ok. Once more I am going to be frugal. There is a place in the next town that offers “three-for-one” and that’s my favorite choice. That way I get my bifocals for driving, and such. I can get a pair of glasses calibrated for my computer; and I can get a pair of prescription sunglasses. This time I have a discount card, and I certainly won’t be choosing the most expensive frames.

This is something I should have done at the end of July, but it simply got away from me. I forget the darnedest things, lately. One wouldn’t think I would forget to go get my glasses, especially since, as I suspected had happened, my prescription has changed.

I’m still struggling with my cold. A friend helped me feel much better about this situation. She says that her rule of thumb for colds was that a cold takes a week coming, a week being, and a week going. By her measure I am in the last week of my cold. I’m looking forward to having more energy, and of course, being able to focus.

There was a tomato growing in our garden that was a really good size. The perfect tomato for putting on your hamburger, as one slice would completely cover the bun (and did). My daughter claimed it as her own, and we were fine with that. Last night, she grilled hamburgers for us and her two grandchildren. The kids, being kids, have not yet discovered the beauty of tomatoes. Daughter, of course, was gracious in allowing her father and I a slice, each. It was very good.

Tonight, she plans to have the second half of that tomato between slices of toast. We have promised to leave her chosen tomato for her, as there really are plenty more where that one came from. She also shared a picture of it with me. If you’re interested, you can see that on my Face Book wall.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

 

 

Dripping eaves troughs, dripping nose...

 August 23, 2023

I’m in day five of a summer cold. On the first couple of days my ability to think was practically nonexistent. I had no focus, and while I do well dismissing arthritic pain most days, there was just no way I could dismiss the general “icky” feeling this cold has brought me.

Over the last few days, I have spent a bit more time in front of the television than is normal for me. The upside of this is that the constant presence of droning voices does wonders for my ability to doze off with impunity.

According to the weather network it’s planning to rain here all day—with a few thunder boomers thrown in for good measure. That doesn’t bother me overly much. I actually prefer, intellectually speaking, to be experiencing a gloomy weather day when I’m not feeling my best. It makes the whole, get comfy on the recliner, lay back and close your eyes if you want to routine seem completely justified.

That said, I should take issue with that science-based website, “the weather network”. It’s actually showing only a trace of rain expected until after 11 today. What we are experiencing right now is not a trace, it’s a deluge, and it has been for about twenty minutes. And we’re not supposed to have thunder until this afternoon, but those are boomers I am hearing at 9:50am.

I long for better accuracy in all mediums, but especially those that claim to be meteorological.

The rain is as good for our gardens as ever, and while we have harvested a few tomatoes, they are now taking their time turning red. Of course, we know that’s because the heat here has dissipated. I can’t find the wherewithal to really regret that. Not with so many people on this continent still being thrust into heatwave after heatwave. We’ve been quite a bit cooler here over the last few days, and that is something to be grateful for.  The tomatoes will eventually ripen. And for those that don’t, there’s newspaper to wrap them in.

I used that old hack last year and it worked out very well.

We’ve finished watching the last television series that we taped, just a week ago. There will be nothing more of interest in entertainment programming until the strikes are over. I truly hope that they’re settled fairly, and soon. They will be eventually, because no one is interested in permanently pulling the plug on the American entertainment industry.

Of course, I do realize that I could watch practically anything that I’ve never seen before, because I do have access to a few streaming services—but I’m picky when it comes to programmes that I invest my time in. I used to watch a lot of movies—we had a weekend movie habit when the kids were younger, and Blockbuster was in town. But I’m not into movies so much anymore. In most cases I would rather read, or write, a book.

But for the moment both of those beloved activities are on hold, because to do either requires focus, and that’s something I just don’t have in abundance now. This is why this week’s essay is a lot shorter than usual.

Hopefully next week I’ll be back to my usual overly-opinionated self. For now, take care, and God Bless.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

 

 

 

 

 

About this "writing" thing...

 August 16, 2023

I’ve often told anyone who would listen that being a writer isn’t just what I do, it’s who I am. I look at the world through a writer’s lens. My being a writer informs absolutely everything about me as a human being. Everything I think, or do—every opinion, every choice, and every emotion that I may claim—these all exist as they do because I am a writer.

There is a lot of emotion in my make-up and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about that. Of course, by now I understand there is nothing I should do about that. If not for my capacity to feel, I truly believe I would not be able to write—at least not in the way that I do or even would want to do. In my opinion, the ability to perceive and convey emotion is crucial to good storytelling.

It takes a lot of different kinds of people to make a world, and it would be boring as hell if we were all just carbon copies of one another. If you’re a writer, and if you write stories about people and relationships, then you spend a lot of time studying people. You want to know not just what, but why. You want to know the trail from there to here. You want to know the deepest, darkest secrets, and you want to see how many and varied ways there are to connect the dots.

That’s me. I want to present characters to my reader who evoke emotion because when you evoke emotion in your readers, they become invested in your work. If the reader doesn’t care about the characters you create, they will not finish reading the book. And if you write too many books where the readers don’t care, then the “prime motivation” for the writer is lost.

The prime motivation for a writer is to write so that others will read.

Now that sounds rather obvious, doesn’t it? But it’s really not that obvious, nor is it always necessarily the case. Over my career I have met different authors who write for many different reasons. And sadly, not all of these authors even understand their own motivation.

Some folks write because they want to tell others the truth—so that they can stop being themselves and start being who those authors think they should be.

Some folks write because they want to vent their anger, their rage, and their sense of deep personal injustice—it’s their way of shouting, “watch me, watch me! I matter!”

Some folks write to make money. Now, this is a motivation I really don’t understand because (and I can say this as the author of sixty-nine titles and counting published by my publisher) there must be at least a million ways far easier to make money that to write. When one is a writer, one willingly puts oneself through extreme torture from time to time. It’s like every time you write a book, you are taking a knife and eviscerating yourself and letting all that you are hang out there for everyone to see and quite often, mock.

Who of sound mind would do that? For money? One would have to be extremely desperate—and that same one would eventually be extraordinarily disappointed, because except for the very few rare cases, most published authors do not make a whole hell of a lot of money. I guess it’s the same as those who chose the career of acting. Most actors don’t necessarily even make a living wage.

It’s worse for writers than for actors when it comes to earning their way. Who would sit down in front of a blank computer screen and imagine that they could create a world, characters and a story worth reading out of only what’s within them? Well, and to partly answer my own question, I suppose that extreme narcissists would imagine that they could and that the resulting work would be a page-turner. The key word in that last sentence, of course, was “imagine”.

But otherwise, one might expect that the true answer to that question of “why do it” might be that if one has no friends and no life, one might indeed need to resort to such a thing if only to quell the boredom.

Money doesn’t qualify as good enough reason to go through what I go through to write a book. I may have my truths I want to share, but I don’t ram them. I just reveal them and then leave it to the reader whether to take it or not. As for the expression of pent-up emotions? Oh, my friends, y’all should know by now there is nothing at all pent-up about my emotions. They’ve had free rein over me for all my life.

When it comes to writing, for me, it goes back to that prime motivating factor.

I write so that others will read. And in the process, I hope the reader will find a few moments of entertainment, that they will recognize something that is relatable for them, and that when they finish the book, they will feel just a bit better than when they began to read it.

One reader once told me that reading my books was like having their heart hugged. And really, what could be a better reward than that?

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our dichotomous conundrum....

 August 9, 2023

Because I am older, and I recall what used to be, I can look back and see differences between what is and what was—even as I admit that some of the unintended consequences of the way things are today, I never saw coming. What a strange world this is that we are living in—strange, and oddly dichotomous.

In this modern age, most people have cellphones and Internet access. They have cable and they have streaming services. They spend their time online with “their friends” or chilling, watching videos. Information can be had at the stroke of a key or the push of a button. Everything is so easy and instant and at our fingertips. On the one hand, there is much good to be said about these modern technologies and current methods of operating in life.

And yet, the reality for the average individual human being, it could be said, belies all of the above.

We have access without any concrete connection, and information without any real knowledge. And as a result of that, we have never been a people more tribalized, while we have never been persons more alone.

This evolution in our society likely began as a trickle back in the last century. Our civilization used to be one of community, in that we came together for varied and different things. In days of yore, we’d participate in a barn raising or a quilting bee. In the times of my youth, we’d attend a place of worship; we’d join a flower club, the 4 H, the scouting movement, or a reading group. There were extracurricular activities at school that were strongly encouraged to join.

We would go to the library, to Main Street for a parade, or the local park for a 4^th of July or Canada Day/Victoria Day picnic.

The local churches would hold their annual bazaars or bake sales, and people from the entire area would attend.  In the U.S. y’all had Friday Night lights—the local high school football games where you’d mix and mingle with other parents(this was never a thing here in Canada when I was in high school).

But today, we have those cellphones and that Internet access and those twenty-four-seven streaming services. We have busy lives that we somehow have molded into solitary lives, and it’s not a good thing at all.

Dr. Vivek Murthy, the Surgeon-General of the United States posted an advisory entitled, “Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation.” I believe that there is merit in this premise. Humans were not created to live alone; we were created to be social beings, and that’s a Biblical principle. Dr. Murthy states unequivocally that there are real health dangers born out of loneliness and isolation—not to mention the danger they can pose to the healthy maintenance to our democracy. Here is a link to Dr. Murthy’s publication:  https://www.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/surgeon-general-social-connection-advisory.pdf

There is a world of difference between “social media” and socializing face to face. The media is only a one-dimensional screen shot. It has no warmth, no depth, and no nuance. It is easier, of course, to just do something online—whether it’s playing a game or even participating in a chat. But it’s not nearly as satisfying as getting together with friends for a game night, or just meeting the guys, or the gals, for a couple of drinks and a good chinwag.

I think we need to begin to take time out from our algorithm-influenced, hermit-like ways. When there are community events being held in our area, we should go. Oh…there won’t be anyone there that you know? That’s kind of the point. We need to interact face to face with new folks, with people who might not believe everything that we believe. We need to reach out and make real, living connections with real, living people. We need to begin again to feed our intrinsic need to socialize.

Nothing happened overnight. We’ve fallen into these habits, that have ended up putting us in isolation, over time. So let us begin to reverse that, over time. Let’s become communities again.

We can start in our own homes, with our own families and friends, and then go on from there.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

 

Gardening and life...

 August 2, 2023

I awoke this morning to what the weather network website called a “premature taste of fall”. I checked that site out earlier because out of the window I face and can just see beside and below the edges of my monitor, the world appeared to be grumpy and possibly getting ready to cry.

Indeed, the forecast calls for partly sunny this morning with the risk of a thunderstorms in the afternoon. I am hoping to see that “partly sunny” portion soon. At the moment, though, there are only clouds and a damp chill in the air. And yes, it is autumn cool outside, only 66 degrees so far.

We are all now safely into the month of August, and I am sending my sincere prayers and wishes to all of my friends around the northern hemisphere that have been suffering in the heat extreme. July 2023 has already been deemed the hottest month on record, and I hope everyone gets to cool down in the days ahead. I also really hope that the above stated new record stands for a long time.

Meanwhile here in the Ashbury household, we have enjoyed the fruits of my husband’s labors twice now. Yes, green beans have been growing, and eaten, and I am writing down the days we harvest. They are very, very good! Every two weeks seems a good guideline for going out and picking those beans. For those who don’t garden, picking your beans regularly ensures new beans will grow. It only takes a bit of work to wash, cut the stem ends, and partly cook them, then blanch and freeze them. So, we will begin to build our inventory of frozen beans to enjoy in the coming winter—one meal at a time.

That worked well last year, and it promises to do so again this year. We also already have two bags of sweet peaches and cream corn frozen under the same principle. And that’s a lesson I’ve learned in the last year that I wanted to share with y’all.

I move slower and have less stamina than I did. There was a time when I would “do all at once” the canning or freezing of a fruit or a vegetable. That suited the life I lived then, being a busy working wife/mother. Time was a commodity that was less plentiful than the dollars in my hand. That meant I could go and buy a bushel of something and in one day, process it.

Working this way: taking the cobs of corn (freshly picked from a neighboring farm) not eaten at the dinner table, stripping and then freezing them; picking a couple of servings of beans, partly cooking, then freezing them. Working in smaller quantities and doing so on a regular basis turns out well. At the end of the season, there may still be a veggie or two I choose to spend a day working on. But I will have already accumulated a good number of meals of veggies in the freezer.

I’m not letting my advancing age define me, necessarily. But it seems rather pointless to bemoan all I cannot now do, rather than to celebrate that which I can still accomplish. Reality is reality; the difference between 30 and 34 in my physical capabilities and energy levels was negligible. The difference between 65 and 69, however, is, as some may say, a thing.

The tomato plants have several large tomatoes formed and growing, and the plants themselves continue to be exceedingly healthy. Since all of the water they have been getting for the last month or so has been from rain, I am anticipating very juicy fruit this year. The only sad thing in all this greenery? The Swiss chard that had been planted in the midst of some of the tomato plants looks like it’s going to have to be harvested soon or lost.

Mother Nature always has her way. Whether in the jungles of deepest darkest South America, or our table gardens right here in southern Ontario, Canada—the undergrowth will most likely be choked out.

My writing continues to proceed at a better pace than it has in a couple of years. This gives me great hope. Yes, most of the challenges in this area of my life have been with me, myself. I have no problem acknowledging the fact that recent world-wide events have been a creativity buzz-kill. I have never denied being a woman who is more emotional than can possibly be healthy. Of course, it can be argued that one needs to be very into emotions if one is going to write stories about people and relationships. And that’s really my milieu.

Life truly is five percent what happens to us (what one could call “the facts”) and ninety-five percent how we deal with it (what one could call “perceptions”). That said, it’s useful to show people variations on how others see and deal with the elements that they themselves may encounter in their life’s journey.

In my sixteen years as a published author, I have spent a lot of time observing people with a view to understanding why they do what they do.

Humans are endlessly fascinating, and writing stories about them something I should be able to continue to do, regardless of the number of candles that decorate my birthday cake.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury