NaNoWriMo Take Five (?)

All decked out, and no
place to go

Happy Halloween! 

Hope you are ready for the influx of ghosties and superheroes and Harry Potter lookalikes! :) I'm going through a bit of nostalgia as this will be the first Halloween we have spent without a full cadre of dressed-up Dunnes. With my eldest away at university and my other two teens in a new city with busy lives, I'm not sure any of them of will dress up.  The witches brew and mummy dogs will still be cooking up in the kitchen, and I'll be wearing my favourite purple and black striped tights.

So. October 31st also means preparation for one of the busiest months of my year... November. Remembrance Day. Diabetes Awareness Month (one of my teens is a juvenile (Type 1) diabetic). Christmas preparations. American Thanksgiving. And--when I'm feeling particularly crazy--National Novel Writing Month.

And this month I'm feeling particularly crazy.

The truth of the matter is, with all that's been going on, I'm in a bit of a writing rut. Not blocked (I'm not a believer in writer's block), but significantly decelerated. My mojo needs some gojo. There is nothing better than a month designated to not just pick away at, but to FINISH a project when you're an author. A suspended inner editor and a permission slip to let the laundry pile up...with several hundred other crazy nut-bars write (miss-spell intended) there along with you.

My first NaNo project!

If you've followed me since the beginning, you'll know that Treasure in the Flame started out as a NaNo project in 2010.

In 2011, a little idea I'd titled Red Sand Selkie battled it's way through to becoming SKIN.

2012 was Dependent's year.

2013 I worked on Off Grid (currently under sub).


In fact, just about every year since I found NaNo, I've used November as a month to do something with my writing.

This year for NaNo I'm HOPING to barrel through and finish at least one of the sequels I've got on my laptop... And I'm starting with the much requested sequel to SKIN, tentatively titled SWIM.

 Ocean and Sam are in trouble. Deeeeeeep trouble. And I have to get them out of a very nasty mess. I'm about 25k words in, making it a perfect 50k+ word winning NaNo project.

And that's the great thing about NaNoWriMo. You can't really 'lose'. Any words down at this point will be winning words. And in the end, you get a sequel. Wish me luck!

And now, back to my regularly scheduled Halloween candy pilfering... ;)


Brenda


*Nano Image Courtesy of National Novel Writing Month

Military Monday: The Proof is in the Clematis.

My baby clematis peeking
over the fence

In our family we have a saying--well, several sayings actually--that revolve around postings/PCSs.

"I see someone I know every time I go to the grocery store...it must be time to move."

"I can't go anywhere without running into someone I know...it must be time to move."

"We've almost finished unpacking...it must be time to move."

"The bookcase is just the way I like it...it must be time to move."

"I actually feel comfortable at school...it must be time to move."

"The teachers know who I am...it must be time to move."

You get the idea.

We say these things to torture ourselves, I think. Or to make it easier when the posting message actually comes. A coping mechanism. When you move every 1-3 years, there are some things that you really come to appreciate. The simple fact that your kid's gifts in Math precede them to the next grade. The knowledge that if you needed someone, you'd have more than one person to call. The location of the very best coffeehouse in town. These are things taken for granted in other communities, but in the military community they can be a sign that you've truly settled in a place.

Spring has sprung on Vancouver Island

I love to garden, and one of my dreams is to live in a place long enough to have both an established saucer magnolia, and a full, thriving purple clematis. To date it's never happened.  Even one of the two would be nice, but as always, the magnolia just takes root...and it's time to move.

One of the first things I did last summer was plant a clematis, in hopes it would take root and grow to something fantastic while we were still here. It did well all summer, and I even saw a few blooms before the fall. Throughout our short winter, I watched it, wondering how it would fare.

And now, after a wet and dark winter, spring is here on the pacific coast. Flowers are blooming and birds are singing and last week I noticed that my Clematis plant is not only up, but it's thriving. New shoots are poking out everywhere, and it's grown tall enough to peek over our almost six foot fence.

The clematis is thriving...it must be time to move, right?

Yup. Our posting message came the next day.

And so, the clematis has spoken.  The Dunne family are on the move this summer, this time to the Eastern US.

As much as the upcoming post is exciting, I'll be sad to leave my little clematis plant to fend for itself. Who knows, maybe our next house will have one to take it's place.

And a magnolia too.

Brenda

Like this post? Check out my other posts on 'Posting Phases:Orders, or Season of See-You-Later.

April: The Month of the Military Child

FIVE REASONS MILITARY CHILDREN ARE AWESOME:

About two weeks ago I had the privilege of sitting in a local elementary school, listening to children from 6th to 10th grade give speeches--in French--as part of a nationwide competition, the Concours d'Arts Oratoire, (Oratory Arts Competition). It was the district finals, and my youngest daughter, who started French Immersion in 4th grade, was one of three finalists speaking in the 8th grade group of 'early immersion' kids, kids who started French in kindergarten.

Her speech was on Les Enfants de la Militaire, basically Military Children. She spoke fluently in a language she's only known for four years, with a passion born from life in seven homes in three countries, seven schools, numerous deployments and goodbyes.

Although my French is spotty, I have to say I was so proud to listen to her speak. She answered questions--in fluent French--about what she loved about being a military child, about the Month of the Military Child, and about her reasoning behind her speech.

She won the division. (so proud!!)

And then a week later my husband received a posting message for another cross-continental, cross-border move.

There's no life like it, right?

The fact is, military kids put up with a lot. How many first and second world war children never got to meet their fathers? How many times do military kids have to say goodbye to their bestest of BFF's, because their parent has to go to a new location? Stressors abound in the military lifestyle, and often military kids endure them in silence, because that's just the way life is.

But it's not all bad. In fact, the military life is a pretty fabulous way to grow up. The flower of the military child is a dandelion, and for good reasons. They move, they set up roots, and they flourish wherever they're put. In our family we've

embraced the lifestyle, and it's made all the difference. Being a military child sets kids up for real life.

They're amazing individuals, and here's five reasons why:

1. Military children are resilient.

All of that movement, all of that change, sets kids up well for real life. Your high school friends most likely won't be there to support you through college. And jobs don't necessarily happen where you want them too. Like many things in life, the only way to learn how to adapt to new situations is to experience them--and these children experience many, many new things in their early years.

2. Military children know respect.

In a culture which demands respect, military kids learn the meaning first hand. Yes, there are exceptions to the rule (we've all met that kid), but generally military kids understand that rules are there for a reason.

3. Military children are good workers.

When my husband went away on deployment in 2010, I knew I'd need help with the day to day things or the house would slowly deteriorate around me. I set up a chore chart, with three sets of chores, rotating between the 3 kids each week. Some weeks were a little harder, some easier, but, surprisingly enough, it worked. My kids learned that if they didn't do the dishes one day, the pile would be even bigger the next. Six years later, that chore chart still exists, and although I sometimes have to prompt, they generally sort it out. It's a huge help. And skills they will need for later in life.

4. Military children are independent.

You don't have to be a teenager to know that high schools are social jungles. Walking into a new high school alone, without knowing a soul, is a seriously stressful event. But they do it. Time and again. And next year, it will be a new school, a new job, and a new team in a different place.

5. Military children have global experiences.

One of our favourite parts of being a military family is the opportunities we've had to see new places and experience new cultures. Even within Canada, things are done differently in different parts of the country. Our kids are experienced travellers, and they understand that life does not stop at the high school doors. There is so much more out there and they recognize that they've had many opportunities others don't get to experience... like learning to speak French. Or hanging out with dad at an air show. Or even going to school in a different country.

Do you know a military child? Let them know how much you appreciate their silent support.

Are you a military child? Thank you. Your service behind the scenes makes our world a better place.



Brenda

Vaccinations are a Pain

We are trying to update our vaccination records.

Trying.

To update.

Our vaccination records.

Trying.

Holy old moly.

Just looking at that declaration will give most military families stress. In fact. I discussed vaccines as one of the 7 Reason's Military Wives Out are Stressed All of the Time.

I was really keen two postings ago--gathered all of our bits of paper, tiny booklets and photocopied records and had our local public health office (which was actually NOT local, had to drive almost 45 minutes to get there..but that's a different story) update their system and print off a copy for each of the kids. This was not easy. In fact, it was so complicated that from that day on we've kept our vaccinations records in our fire-proof safe.

From there, we moved...within the same province but to a new school district. Easy, right?

WRONG. About a week into our new school year I got a nasty finger-pointing letter from the local school board saying if I didn't get our records updated (remember, they were updated) my kids would be suspended. Yup. Suspended. You'd think they would be kidding about this. But no, they are not. Ask my friend who just a week ago got a suspension letter for her kids because of the school board's vaccination clerical error.

So on top of moving stress, new job stress, new everything stress, there was the added stress of proving that yes, indeed, we are good parents and our children have had all of their required vaccinations on time. We are very pro-vaccine. Just have difficulty keeping things organized when we move every two years.

Back to our current situation. I wasn't as keen on our last move, and forgot to get an updated vaccination record as we packed five humans and one horse into a truck and trailer for a cross-continental move. My bad. Like I said, moving is stressful. I figured when the time came, it would be just a quick phone call or request. Once again, wrong (will I ever learn?). Provincial public health authorities do not talk to one another. My friend over at Canadian Army Wife blogged about this problem here. In order to access our records from our previous post, we need the doctor's notes...but the doctor has moved. Yep. No longer at that clinic.

The saga continues.

Anyway, at this point, I would just like to say that I have the most wonderful husband on the planet. 

Why? Because he has made it his job to get our records sorted out, so that I don't have to.

I love him. Do I ever. He is the best.

Now if only he could offer up his arm for the list of about four needles I need to have updated.

Alas, that is a pain I must bear myself.


Brenda