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In the first post of this series, The proper care and feeding of elephants, Part one, I promised to present a few examples of these fabled beasts and show how to ensure your elephants continue to thrive and live indefinitely.

I also mentioned that while there are a myriad of conditions which result in the creation of an elephant in the room, there is typically commonality to the environments in which they thrive.

• The owner of the elephant is rarely its master.
• The elephant cannot survive in an environment of open, honest communication where there are no secrets.
• “Shoulds” and “ought to haves” are an elephant’s favorite treats.
• These beasts feed and thrive on guilt, fear, pride and shame.
• Ancient elephants still exist today; many producing offspring through several generations.
• The ideal environment for a large, virile elephant is one where secrets are never openly confessed but are known by both the elephant’s owner and its master.
• Several elephants can co-exist under one roof. The come in many shapes and sizes, as do their masters.

At this point, many who have been living with these elephants in the room may be thinking that it’s high time to face the beasts and get them out of your lives forever. Having some experience in this endeavor, I feel it’s only fair to warn you that the task is not an easy one. Both owners and masters hold strong beliefs that the survival of these elephants is vital to their own survival. The longer these beasts are fed on a steady diet of things left unsaid; of feelings held but not expressed, the stronger they grow:

Editor’s Note: Many thanks to my friend Darlene of Simply Darlene for sending me these photos which inspired this post.

I’m a bit of a bird snob.

I love watching birds, just not all birds. I have a large picture window in my office. Just outside this window, I have strategically placed two bird feeders and a bird bath so that I can look outside and watch the array of birds native to this part of Texas.

But mostly there are doves…

So many in fact, that frankly they’ve become a nuisance for me.

They’re like rodents with wings. Hungry rodents. The city pigeon’s country cousins. I bought three 5 pound bags of bird seed over the weekend. As of Thursday afternoon, those bags are empty. I don’t want to look at these doves. They’re common, they’re dull, and they are eating up the bird seed I would much rather be eaten by the birds I actually like. Then something occurred to me while I was watching them gobble up all that bird seed and repeatedly fly into the window. (Yeah, they’re dumb, too.) I have turned this pleasant experience into something less than that because I’ve lost my ability to see them as anything special. But they are special.

and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” ~ Luke 3:22

How could I have disdain for a bird whose descent is compared to that of the Holy Spirit upon Jesus?

But familiarity really does breed contempt. The images I conjure up in my mind when I think of the American bald eagle are similar to this one. Majestic, independent, powerful and graceful.

And frankly, that’s the image I want in my mind. But how would your image change of the National bird of the USA if you saw hundreds of them every day scouring a landfill in search of food?

I can’t pick and choose which birds come into my yard, and I can allow my disdain for the commonness of these doves to spoil my enjoyment of bird watching.

Instead, I think I’ll choose to embrace the fact that just because things are common doesn’t mean they aren’t of value.

Unless, of course, any of you know of a way to get rid of the doves without getting rid of the other birds. Not that I would entertain that notion, of course. Being all enlightened now and whatnot…

Sometimes I’ll tweet stuff that’s rather cryptic. These tweets are often the result of frustration. They’re incredibly selfish on my part. My way of stomping my feet without stomping on anyone’s feet in particular.

Some writers can take a story about themselves and make it about the reader, some can take just about anything and make it about themselves. I’m not a fan of the latter. Navel gazing does not make for compelling writing.

I often read something almost good and mourn the first draft before the writer worried about offending anyone.

While both tweets may seem somewhat unrelated, they’re really not. Both are about my frustration with lack of honesty in writing. I understand that all writers should consider their audience and what they are hoping to accomplish through their words. Still, I think we spend way too much time worrying about what others think of us; too much effort trying to be a better version of ourselves–or worse–a different version of another person.

I know what a competitive field writing is. I also understand the pressure writers are under to build platforms and broaden their audience, even if much of that pressure is self-induced. But I’m telling you as an avid reader and a big supporter of writing and of writers:  Intelligent readers can sniff out dishonest writing. The last thing you want to do is to insult your reader’s intelligence.

Writers, and fiction writers in particular, have the freedom to express what’s in their hearts; to live lives through their words they most likely will never experience in the real world. Do that well and you’ll do us all the grand favor of allowing us to come along on the journey.

And I for one will be extremely grateful.

Who among you is old enough to remember the Euryththmics? I sure do. Back in the day when they actually played music videos on MTV and VH1. Ah, good times. I loved that band immediately. Not so much because of Annie Lennox’s voice–which I think is great–but because they were freaks. Unapologetic freaks at that. Finally, some role models!

I’ve always been told I have a vivid imagination. Okay, not really. When I was a kid, the most common descriptive of me was “That girl is weird”. And perhaps to give strength to that assessment, when people told me I was weird, I always took it as a compliment. Now I’m all grown up, married to a man who is decidedly not weird, and have two children of my own.

Since my creativity wasn’t really nurtured or encouraged as a child (I’m not bitter about this, my family just didn’t know what to make of me), it gives me a huge sense of pride when I see creativity in my own kids. My son is an avid reader, and while he doesn’t write often, when he does it’s usually well written. He’s also a great golfer and a pretty decent French horn player. (In my unbiased, motherly opinion, of course.)

My daughter, while she definitely has her own distinct personality, has a tendency to think like me; to take seemingly unrelated objects and put them together to form something completely new. Sometimes the results are whimsical or even incredible functional. Other times…

Well, other times they’re just downright scary. To me, anyway. Take her latest creation:

Okay, this is where we take a little leap outside the box:

Not creepy? Okay, maybe it’s just me:

Perhaps I’ve seen The Godfather too many times. Or perhaps I’ve read too many Stephen King novels. Specifically, The Dark Tower series. Here’s an illustration from The Dark Tower:

I don’t worry about my daughter having nightmares. I don’t think she thinks there’s anything at all scary or creepy about her…whatever that thing is.

It’s MY nightmares I’m concerned about:

Sweet dreams, people! Mwha ha ha!

Family Reunion

It’s Sunday afternoon and the family has gathered for a very special occasion.

The boys and their families flew in from Colorado and Tennessee. The girls married and settled closer to home, neither one more than an hour’s drive from their childhood home.

The big occasion? It’s Mom and Dad’s 50th wedding anniversary. The house is small, so John, Kevin and their families chose to stay at a nearby hotel in town. Now gathered in the tiny family room, the brothers and sisters wonder aloud how they ever managed to all fit in this house, let alone grow up here.

While their parents are in the back yard playing with the grandkids–nine in all–John, Kevin, Janet and Kara catch up on each other’s lives. The brothers each left home after high school graduation. John set off for college on a football scholarship and Kevin headed for Fort Bragg and a career in the military. They talk about their kids; about how much has changed and how much has remained unchanged.

What they don’t talk about is why Janet’s husband has spent most of the afternoon taking private calls on his cell phone out of earshot of his wife, or the fact that no amount of make-up can cover the purple, swollen skin under Kara’s right eye.

The elephants in the room loom as large as Kara’s husband’s absence from this auspicious occasion.

But the biggest elephant of all–the one each sibling recognizes but none want to admit to themselves, let alone each other, is the old saying that in this case rings heartbreakingly true:

Both Janet and Kara married men just like their Daddy.

And the elephants feed and grow…

If you missed the first three installments of this series, you can find them here:

The proper care and feeding of elephants, Part 1: An Introduction and Explanation
The proper care and feeding of elephants, Part 2: Unspoken
The proper care and feeding of elephants, Part 3: Anniversary Gifts

Thursday was the last day of school. Before I sat down to write this post, I dropped my daughter off at an end of school pool party. My son will be attending one on Saturday.

In what has been the driest spring (and now moving into summer) that I can remember, I am still surrounded by water. Clean, accessible water for drinking, bathing and for all the other things we do that require water I rarely think about. The only time I think about it is when we suffer the occasional power outage and we are temporarily unable to access it. (We’re on a well and septic system, so when the power goes out, so does the water pump.)

Much of the world is not so fortunate.

Forty-two thousand people die every week for reasons clean water could help cure. Ninety percent are children.

Thirty-seven thousand, eight hundred children die every week because they don’t have access to clean water.

When fellow blogger Matt Windley of Becoming Last contacted me last month and asked if I would join him in an ambitious fundraising adventure for Charity Water, I didn’t have to think long about it before I agreed. I’ve been involved in a campaign with this organization before (30 Days/30 Bloggers), so I happen to know they are a good group of folks.

The beauty of Charity Water is that they give 100% of the donations to their projects. Matt’s goal is to raise $1,000,000 in the month of June. I know. That sounds crazy, it is, but it’s the number he keeps coming back to. There are approximately 310 million people in the US alone. Even if just .003 of that group gave $1 each, we’d reach $1 million. I believe using our social networks in and outside of the internet, we can make a huge difference in the lives of many suffering children.

Will you help? If you answered yes to that question, or even if you only answered maybe, please visit Becoming Last for further details, or to donate directly to the campaign, visit the Charity Water 30 Day – $1 Million Dollar Challenge page.

In the first exciting and compelling installment of Words with Friends: An idiot’s guide, I debunked any false presumption that I was a smart or logical person. Clearly, anyone who downloads a game app on their iPhone then stares at it for months hoping to ascertain how to play by sheer will rather than googling “How to play Words with Friends” is not the sharpest tool in the shed.

However…

Over the past two weeks, I have gained priceless knowledge about the inner workings of this game. Knowledge that I will share with you today.

Because that’s me.

I’m a giver.

The following are a few random observations about my journey into the world of Words with Friends (WWF). It is my sincere hope that you will benefit from my learning some things the hard way.

There are certain words used in WWF that I dare say have never been uttered by human lips. No one really knows what they mean, and if you look them up in the dictionary, the definition most likely will say, “word used in Scrabble”. This definition may quite possibly be written in the margin with a red crayon. The Mac Daddy of all of these nonsensical words is:

Then there are those words whose root word is allowed, but not their verb form:

There are other words that, if used in a writing assignment, would be circled with a big, red angry pen, but are apparently perfectly acceptable in WWF. Words like “NOHOW”. The use of these words may stir up anger and resentment in your opponent:

These seeds of resentment sometimes spill over into other forms of social media:

And speaking of acceptable and unacceptable words, many of you already know that proper nouns are not allowed. I found this out when my triple word score of “PEZ” was summarily rejected. JUNE is also not acceptable, even though I would argue that “JUNE” is a descriptive of “BUG”. But nobody asked me. You can, however use this word:

And finally, in choosing words, you must let your conscious be your guide. There are certain cuss words which are allowed and others that are not. I’ve tried to avoid using any bad words. Unless of course a double or triple word score is involved. (Sidenote: “BADGERASS” is not an acceptable WWF word. Or so I’ve heard.)

If you do choose to use questionable words, my personal recommendation would be only to do so with someone you know, and a quick text to them in the form of an explanation may be in order:

Just to make sure you’ve not offended anyone and everything is COPACETIC.

So what say you, Words with Friends fans? Am I leaving out any crucial information? Care to share some uncommon words with me? Talk to me.