Guest post: Really Easy to be Overwhelmed

There’s a lot of food for thought here for all of us who are authors.

The official site of Ari Meghlen

It’s Tuesday so you know that means we are joined by a guest poster and this week’s poster is the wonderful Jaye Marie who discusses being overwhelmed – a topic I can completely understand right now. Enjoy 🙂

jayeReally Easy to be Overwhelmed

by Jaye Marie

I had made the decision to take a break from fiction this year, and already I know I will miss it.

The last few years have been pretty manic, almost destroying my passion for writing. I am 73 years old and half of a writing partnership, which means I am also an editor, proof-reader, promoter, publisher and marketer of our nine books.

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Guest Post: “Love, twue love”

I hope you’ll go to “The Eternal Scribbler” blog, enjoy my guest post there and leave a comment so Ari and I will know you stopped by. 😊

Today we welcome back to this blog the wonderful Pearl R Meaker, author of the Emory Crawford Mysteries. Enjoy! “Love, twue love.” by Pearl R Meaker Today is the “love holiday” and, like the movie …

Source: Guest Post: “Love, twue love”

Death in my Dryer

I was doing my laundry. A common, ordinary, everyday thing usually associated with life, not death. But a T-shirt and a book I read recently combined to make my thoughts meander down the cemetery path.


“A T-shirt? What’s a T-shirt have to do with death? Is it Goth?”

No, it’s better than Goth.

It’s a shirt for a very special school. I’m sure there are only one of these T-shirts in my home town – along with three hoodies.


Worsham is a privately owned and operated, fully accredited two year school that has been in Wheeling, Illinois for a little over 100 years, training morticians/funeral directors. It is one of the most respected schools of mortuary science in the US.

And how did my family come to have Worsham shirts & jackets?

Because my hubby used to teach insurance seminars.

Prepaid funeral packages are tied into life insurance policies, so the future funeral directors at Worsham need to get licenses to sell life insurance. Hubby used to go to Worsham once or twice a year to do their life insurance pre-licensing  seminar.

I proudly wear my Worsham “T” and hoodie, and people in town may see my daughter or my son-in-law wearing their Worsham hoodies.


The book I read was about the assassination of President James Garfield: “Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President.” by Candice Millard.

I love well-written books about historical events more than biographies. With event focused books you get a broader view, I think, of the time period as well as learning a good deal about the primary people involved. In this case, you also learn about the state of medicine at a time when Joseph Lister had been promoting the practice of “antisepsis” in all medical procedures but it had not yet gained total acceptance amongst practicing physicians – especially here in the US.

Quite literally, President Garfield was as much killed by his doctors’ care as by his assassin’s bullet. None of his doctors washed their hands before dealing with the wound. The instruments that were used on him were not sterilized, or if they were they were being handled by unwashed, ungloved, hands so it didn’t really matter. Plus, the handles on the instruments were usually wood or ivory – porous materials that don’t sterilize well anyway. He quickly developed infections, which the man who assumed the position of chief physician dealt with poorly (even for that time) or did nothing at all. The wound was deep and could have killed him anyway, but many felt then, and now, that with the best care of that day – meaning the use of antiseptic procedures – the President may have lived as there were many Civil War veterans who survived serious bullet wounds, lived and still had the bullet inside them.

The author acknowledges that many of her readers were probably wondering why the president wasn’t taken to the hospital? Why was he taken back to the White House?

Back then, in 1881, hospitals were places for the indigent. They were where you went if you couldn’t afford a physician who would come and treat you in the comfort of your own home. Hospitals were, because antiseptic procedures had not been well accepted yet, filthy, smelly, vile places. No One wanted to go to a hospital back then – Even more so than today.

You were sick at home.

You were cared for at home.

You died at home.

You’re funeral was in your home.

As hospitals improved, all the events of serious illness and surgery began to happen there, more people died there instead of at home, and funerals began to change as well. Instead of the funeral being in your home it was in the mortician’s or funeral director’s home. You would be laid out in his parlor and people went to his house to mourn and pay their final respects. Hence the now familiar terms: funeral parlor and funeral home.

And so I’ve come full circle back to Worsham College of Mortuary Science, trainer of morticians and funeral directors . . .

and one of their school T-shirts in my clothes dryer.


Hugs from Pearl

Commit to Creativity

I needed this post. Do you?

The official site of Ari Meghlen

Committ to Creativity.jpgWe all have those moments, lingering senses of stagnation or apathy. The best way to get through them is to release your creativity. Everyday!

Creative people need to be creative. We need to dip into that rich, vibrant well frequently for our own sanity.

So just do something. Anything. Be creative.

You don’t need to write an opera or sculpt a life-size model of Benedict Cumberbatch (although that latter one sounds pretty fun 😉 ) 

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Unhappily happy?

There is a lot of good, honest truth in this blog post from the White Padded Room.

White Padded Room

There are times when I feel really happy, but at that time I know it’s just temporary, because I’m going to go back to being fine. And there are times where I feel unhappy, and I know it’s going to go back to normal. I’m never constantly fucking happy, ’cause that would just be insane. I don’t think anyone is constantly happy and if that is the case, I don’t want to know you. ~Felix Kjellberg, a.k.a. PewDiePie

Yes, I am a fan of PewDiePie, along with 52 million people around the world who are considerably younger than me.

Really, though, I’m a little kid in size 8 adult shoes so it shouldn’t surprise you.

PewDiePie is a Swedish YouTube celebrity who owns and operates a gaming and entertaining channel. His real name is Felix Kjellberg. I’ve been following him for quite some time. He recently made a video entitled…

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Oh, the first snowfall of the winter!


Looking Northeast from our patio.


Last Sunday, Dec. 4th, was my town’s first snowfall of this season.

I know, I know. Many of you dread that event, and with good reason. It’s cold. It’s slippery. It often needs shoveling.

Who needs snow?

Oddly enough, it does some good things.

It adds moisture to the earth – moisture that soaks in slowly instead of all just running off – and that’s good for crops in the spring.

There are some plants that need not just winter but a cold snowy type of winter to bloom, or bloom well, in the spring.

And I have a little guest spending the winter on the wall by our front door. When he first showed up he (or she) looked like this:


Then like this:


And now he (or she) looks like this:


Only by going through an entire winter, that includes cold weather, will that caterpillar turn into this:

(unidentified photo from the internet)

An adult Polyphemus Moth.

Yeah. Winter.

It can be useful. 😊

❄️   ❄️   ❄️   ❄️   ❄️

judyt54 mentioned to me in a conversation on my post “In The Rain”that she’d like to see some of the photos I’ve taken of snowflakes. ❄️ 😊

The snow we had on the 4th wasn’t good snowflake snow. It was mostly clumps of spiky crystals:


But there were a few recognizable flakes to be found.


The snowflake is about in the center of the photo, top-center of the clump.

In good snowflake snows, I can get shots like this:


Which I can “clean up” to look like this:


I rotated and combined this shot with another of my snowflake shots and used it for a Facebook banner one year.


I hope you enjoyed the photos, and maybe you’ll be a bit more tolerant of the winter weather (or not 😉 ) and inspired to take a closer look at the snowflakes the next time they fall.

*If you want to see snowflake photos taken by the first person to take a photomicrograph of a single snowflake back in 1885 go to the official website for Wilson A. Bentley of Jericho, Vermont – . He took photos of over 5,000 snowflakes in his lifetime. They are fantastic!

Hugs from Pearl! 😊  ❄️

In The Rain


In The Rain

I stood out in the rain today.

Wind-slashed rain.

Big drops and hazy rain,

Because I wanted to.


I stood out in the rain today.

On the pebble path,

Beside the birdbath.

Because I wanted to.


And I laughed out loud.

At the fun of it.

With the joy of it.

Like a child

Who still counts

The halves and the quarters.

“I’m ten and a quarter!”

“I’m seven and a half!”

Like a fifty-eight and three quarters kid

Laughing aloud in the rain.


I wanted to.

☂   ☁︎   ☂


I wrote this four years ago. I thought about it today and decided to post it.

I hope you enjoyed my poem and photos.

Hugs from Pearl 😊

Time As We Know It

Sunrise Snail

I spent all day yesterday telling myself not to waste time.

I wasted time.

I got distracted, an all too easy a thing for me to do, and time slipped away like a furtive child who has snitched cookies off the cooling racks mother left unattended on the counter, and now hears mom returning to the kitchen.

Small. Quiet.

Seconds. Minutes. And yes, hours too, slipping away to wherever it is time goes when it’s gone.

I will be working on the same project today, and again I’ll be telling myself not to waste time and doing my best to act on that timely advice.


1) the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present and future regarded as a whole: the progress of time as affecting people and things: time or an amount of time as reckoned by a conventional standard …

We have always been ruled by time, even when it was only the rising of the sun and the going down of the same pacing our lives with light or its absence.

“Make hay while the sun shines.”

Snail days, that mosey along and seem to take forever to get from point A to point B.

Lightening days that flash and fade to what seems to be a night come too soon.

It seems weird to me sometimes that we are dominated by something so capricious …

yet so structured that we now can chart it to the nanosecond.


May you handle your time well today – as well as any of us can handle such a mercurial master.

And I’ll endeavor to do the same. 😉

Hugs from Pearl. 😊

Of The Making of Goals

Goals as permanent as words written in the sand.

“Of making books goals there is no end, and much study wearies the body.”       Ecclesiastes 12:12, New International Version (paraphrased)

Our world is full of sayings about goal setting. 

“If you aim for nothing, you’ll hit it every time.”

And many others.

Now we’re nearing the close of 2016 and so the topic of setting our goals for 2017 is starting to pop up everywhere. Since the Fiction Writers Blog Hop focuses on writing, we’re dealing specifically with our writing goals for 2017.

Goals? What goals?

I’m supposed to actually think this all through? Map it out on a corkboard or a spreadsheet or a “My 2017 Writing Goals Collage?” Make it visible, permanent, real?

Whereas I can understand the benefits of these processes, and I know they help gazillions of people around the world, I have always had trouble with . . .


Yes. It stands there in huge capital letters, looming over me while I cower before it, because try as I might over the now long years of my life, I’ve rarely been very successful with setting or reaching goals that I set that way.

You know – in stone. Like the law of the Medes and the Persians.

Whether because of my ADHD, or something else, my life doesn’t seem to cooperate with that technique. Like the things I “put where I won’t forget them” end up vanishing, goals set so formally, so officially, so visually get strangled to death and fade from existence more often than not.

For me, life doesn’t cooperate with hard and fast goals.

And so I just sort of, kind of know what I intend to do . . .

the Good Lord willin’ and the creeks don’t rise.

I know I want another Emory Crawford Mystery written by midsummer – if I can. It would be better to have a deadline. Yes. A goal line to aim for, if you will. I do well with deadlines.

I know I’d also like to write a few short stories based in the ECM world – if I can.

But these will be the extent of my GOAL SETTING. Anything firmer I know will somehow get adjusted, altered, or even dumped as the year progresses  . . .

and life happens as unpredictably as it does for all of us. 

Hugs from Pearl 

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