If You Dig It, Don't Do It

If you dig it, don't do it
And if you like it, better leave it alone
And if it's too much fun that ought to clue you son
That you're probably doing something that's wrong
--Little Charlie and the Nightcats

If you have a minute (and it’s Friday, so c’mon), click this link and give a good listen to this tune by Little Charlie and the Nightcats.  It really sets the mood for this blog post.

As you might guess after listening, this week and last were full of appointments for annual checkups.  I seem to have a rather unlucky relationship with most physicians, and in the past I have been misdiagnosed with Lupus, cancer (twice), and even a brain tumor!

So I hope you understand that I was quite nervous about my recent rounds of preventive healthcare maintenance.  Seems my doc conversations these days always begin with “At your age,” or “Understandably…” and get worse from there.

I have been poked and prodded, mashed, x-rayed, and spent thirty minutes with a rather nice dermatologist who eyeballed every inch of my skin.  These docs have seen more of my body than my lovely husband ever has

And while I’m no physical fitness saint, I’m not usually the doctor’s worst nightmare either.  So I’m always surprised by how disappointed they seem by my “levels" and vices!

Makes me wonder sometimes if I should just throw my usual health regimens to the wind.  I mean, if you do all the right stuff (well ok, most of the right stuff) and the health gods are still unhappy, what the heck is the point?

There is something about sitting around in an ill-designed flapping gown waiting for someone in authority to tell me WHAT IS WRONG that makes me suffer from what they call SEVERE STRESS.

I try to tell myself I’m in control and that I’m doing good things by getting checkups.  And that I’m not really sitting there waiting to hear what is wrong, but what is right and good and commendable.

But that’s not how it feels, is it?

You need to lose some weight, you need to stand up straight.
 Boy, your posture is a terrible disgrace
You need to suck in your gut, you need to tuck in your butt,
 you need to clear them zits up off of your face.

And I kept waitin' and waitin' for the man to finish,
 but the sucker just went on and on... on and on... and on.
  –Little Charlie and the Nightcats

If any of you can offer suggestions on how to NOT feel like a helpless twit in these circumstances, I would love to hear your comments.  Or, just come on over for a drink or two and some dessert J.  For now I gotta run, really!

Marianne M. Smith

Writer At The Ranch

Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time

http://www.writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

Hiking with a Vengeance

Photo by Marianne M. Smith

Recently I went hiking with visiting relatives at Edgar Evins State Park, and remembered with a vengeance why I like to disappear into the woods.

Nature takes its time, is nonjudgmental, un-opinionated, usually quiet, and allows space for you to simply be. 

She does not scream for you to be an over-achiever, and the worst thing she delivered that day was poison ivy.

Frost had it right:  “The woods are lovely, dark and deep.”

Photo by Marianne M. Smith

I always come out of the woods different than when I walked in.



These mighty caterpillars were everywhere



And, amazingly, I have fewer words.  So this time I’ll just share some photos taken on our hike and look forward to your comments.  Or, as Thoreau said:  “Our life is frittered away by detail.  Simplify, simplify.”

Natural Bamboo

Center Hill Lake wearing away at the rock

My hiking buds Denise and Ernie Franz

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time
http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

Getting Skunked: Adventures of an Animal Empath

While I’m driving one of my pups to PetSmart to get her talons clipped (why is the stuff for another blog), the image of a skunk pops into my head.  The visual is clear and distinct.  I grip the wheel tighter and soon it passes.  I don’t actually see or smell a skunk, so I find the vision interesting.

A few minutes later I have forgotten the skunk and I’m singing along with the radio.  The letters D-0-G scroll briefly before my eyes, as if a cartoon overlay is running over the traffic.  Amused but not frightened, I continue driving and wonder about the meaning of this unsolicited little movie.  (As far as I know I’m not schizophrenic or terribly emotionally disturbed.)

Arriving at PetSmart, I attempt to hang on to my pup as she drags me to the rear of the store.  We enter the grooming salon, and a cheerful tech says: “Sorry about the lingering smell.  We worked on a dog all day yesterday who got skunked.”  While I found this a bit startling, the images in the car now made sense.

I’ve learned that what I experienced is technically known as animal empathy—I’m an animal empath.  That probably explains a lot about why I’m so in tune with the animals on my farm.  An animal empath is simply someone who is sensitive to animal energy.  There are many other types of empaths, too, including human empaths, of course.

My gift seems to be getting stronger at the moment, for reasons unknown to me.  I’m trying to stay open-minded to see what I can learn from it.  Had I not experienced similar flashes before, I would certainly have questioned my sanity, or lack thereof!

My late Mom was an animal empath and a telepath, but hid her abilities for fear of ridicule.  I’m also a bit nervous about putting this out there, but it was the most interesting element in my week.  And besides, it seemed like a fun blog topic!

Wondering if any of you would be willing to share your own empath experiences?  I’d love to hear them.  They’re making my world larger.  If you think I’ve flipped a switch, that’s ok, too.  But If you’re curious and want to learn more, I can highly recommend a wonderful book: Whose Stuff Is This? Finding Freedom from the Thoughts, Feelings, and Energy of Those Around You by Yvonne Perry and Caron Goode.

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time
http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com

Used Cows For Sale: Rethinking Your Packaging

As a writer, I often disappear into a world of my own making.  But this week has been full of critical business decisions, leaving me firmly planted in the world of marketing and self-promotion.  I’m getting my first novel ready for release, and every decision seems to be loaded enough to bring about either success or failure.

Several times this week I’ve stopped to stare at a favorite tin sign hanging in my kitchen:  “Used Cows for Sale” it proclaims.  The sign always makes me smile, but sometimes it really is about the packaging.  You can sell almost anything if you wrap it right.

Mostly for reasons of autonomy and profit, I’ve decided to self-publish my novel.  Because of evolving technology and changes in the book business, this route offers a lot more independent decision-making.  Book cover choice? Title choice? Online promotion strategy?  These topics have historically been in the hands of Agents/Publishers.  But like many writers in this new era, I’ve decided to take control—making the book a true entrepreneurial venture.

Because of the jump in book sales for e-readers (think Kindle), I’ll be able to sell my book to my readers for less money, and I’ll be able to retain more of the profits than I would with traditional publishing.  Now that sure seems like a win-win to me.

Why is any of this important to you?  I’m simply suggesting that you rethink your packaging.  If you’re selling a product or service, are you doing it with your customer completely in mind?  If you’re selling yourself in some shape or fashion (like a writer does), have you given a lot of thought to how you are perceived and if that fits in with how you need to be perceived to be marketable?

In our current (un)economy you must stand out.  You need to promote your “used cows” in a novel way.  Of course, you also need to stay true to yourself and your vision.  But I, for one, am truly delighted that what is currently selling is uniqueness.  That gives us all permission to be who we are without being so focused on fitting in.

Have you made any significant changes in your packaging lately?  How is that working for you?  I’d love to hear your comments.

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time
http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com



Wardrobe Malfunctions

If you’re thinking of some superstar in an oops moment, just relax.  I’m talking about my whole closet.  Luckily, due to my stay-at-home writer and rancher status, I am able to be pretty dang casual about my wardrobe.  Some say I have lost all the fashion sense I once had (which was never a lot).

My elderly neighbor was asking about my “ass” shirts the other day.  I explained that donkey farmers have a wry sense of humor (you try raising asses without it) and it’s just the way we roll.  He just smiled.

 My husband is an IT guy and gets lots of freebie tech shirts with pithy slogans that the tech people, in their own sweet way, find hysterical.  As a couple, our entire casual wardrobes consist of ass and tech T-shirts.  The few exceptions for me are some of my (long dead) mother’s T-shirts.  They are so worn and frayed that I could probably sell them to Keith Urban, who has his T’s acid-washed to achieve the same effect.  Aside from sentimental reasons, I attribute still wearing these to my practical side.  As McCrae says about Deets in Lonesome Dove:  “He ain’t one to quit on a garment, just ‘cause it’s got a little age.”

I suppose working on the farm doesn’t help our clothes any.  Most of our shirts (and to be truthful, some of our pants) are riddled with barb wire holes, indecipherable stains, and teeth marks from equine who didn’t think it was time for us to go into the house just yet.  Perhaps our threads are simply a badge of farm honor?  Guess I can’t use that excuse for my usual lack of appropriate undergarments…

And how do I explain the bath robe with chemical stains on it from wearing it to the hot tub?  Or the mismatched socks with permanent mud stains?  Do normal people dress like this?

I still work out, get regular hair cuts and go to the dentist.  It’s not like I’ve let myself go completely—just my clothes.  Since I almost never go anywhere, my wardrobe deficit doesn’t affect many.  (Well, there is that elderly neighbor…)  My hub in his IT shirts is usually not one to be critical, though he did mention the other day that one of my mother’s T-shirts had more holes than fabric.

Some say that clothes make the man.  If that’s the case, I am distinctly doomed.  A good day for me is when my two large pups haven’t slimed me before noon.  Wonder what the aliens would say if they tried to decipher current culture here by my wardrobe?  (Something about high tech ass comes to mind.)

If you’re thinking of nominating me for a wardrobe makeover, don’t bother.  I seem happy and comfortable in these old and injured threads.  But if you have an extra ass or IT shirt, feel free to send it my way.  Every once in awhile the cycle has to begin again.

Are you a style icon?  I would love to hear how you manage it.  Please feel free to leave a stylish comment.

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time
http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com