10 Ways to Make a Bad Day Better

My days have been pretty good here lately, but we all know those crummy ones roll around sooner or later. Don’t give in to them! The older I get, the more I realize we are very much the determiners of our own destiny—on a day-by-day basis, at least. We can choose how to react to less-than-perfect days, whether their badness comes in the form of weather, events, encounters, or the lack thereof, and by choosing NOT to let our happiness be derailed by some external force, we can salvage that day for good.

If your happy mood is about to be hit broadside, try one of these tips. Let me know how it goes!

1. Take a 10-minute walk outdoors by yourself. Okay, so this might not be an option if it’s raining like crazy or there’s a blizzard in town but, otherwise, this is a terrific way to “push your reset button,” as my friend Pat used to say. Pay attention to detail: a butterfly flitting from flower to flower, an old guy walking his dog, a shopkeeper fixing a window display. The point is to realize what’s happening in your life is a tiny little speck in the great scheme of things. Whatever’s out of sync will pass.
2.  Indulge in a treat that’s good and good for you. Chocolate milkshake, probably not so much, but a straight-from-paradise Honey Crisp apple or a banana and peanut butter sandwich? Maybe all that’s wrong is low blood sugar or the need for a caffeine fix. You’d be surprised how grumpy that can make you!
3. Look for a gift. Not one topped with a bow, but one you’ve overlooked. Parking place at the front of the lane? Happy little bird singing outside your window? Your favorite song on the radio? I call those little presents from God. He knows when you’re in a rotten mood and he may not be able to orchestrate a lottery win or heal your plantar fasciitis, but pay attention and you’ll be amazed at how many times He tries to say, “Here, will this help?”
4.  Focus on the least worst thing you’re dealing with. Yes, I’m fully aware I have an inner Pollyanna that annoys people to no end but, really, does it do any good to wallow in your misery? (Okay, sometimes a short pity party does help.) Skip past the empty bank account, the fight you had with your teenager, the fact that your mom is getting more and more forgetful, and dwell on  the nail you just broke. Will you die from that? No. Will you lose your job over that? No. Will said nail grow back? Yes. See? That's one thing that's not nearly as awful as it could be.
5. Put things in perspective. I know, from where you sit at the moment, life looks pretty sorry. But switch views. Pretend you’re your 13-year-old son, or your 80-year-old neighbor, or the homeless guy on the corner, or Princess Kate. You might decide you like your life a lot more than you thought.
6. Don’t be a Don’t-Bee; you be a Doo-Bee! Anybody remember the TV show, “Romper Room?” We’re never too old to take good advice: don’t be a Negative Nelly when you can be a Positive Pammy! Sometimes changing your mood is as easy as making up your mind to adjust your attitude.
7.  Turn on your radio. Or your MP3, cell phone, CD player, or whatever is the handiest source of music. (Maybe  one of your coworkers will do an Elvis impression for you.) Music has an uncanny ability to immediately transport us to a different place and time, especially if it’s a song with fond memories attached. Music is the quickest path I know from crabby to happy (along with #9!).
8. Find something to make you laugh. Go to YouTube and search for laughing babies or goofy animals. Revisit your email joke folder. (You have one of those, right?) Take a break to go read funny greeting cards. Pull up a comedy on Netflix. Not only will you feel better, you’ll add a few years to your life.
9. Find something four-legged and furry. Okay, maybe if you’re a fan of reptiles, a snake can make you smile, but my money’s on mammals. I dare you to stay downtrodden while there’s a kitten in your lap, a dog grinning in your face, a meerkat peering up at you, or a horse nuzzling your neck. Animals = smiles.
10. Do something for someone who’s not expecting it. Sometimes, reminding yourself that it’s not all about you can get you past those rough spots. Focusing on someone else will get your mind off your worries and doing something for someone else, well, that makes you feel good all over. How about putting quarters in a bunch of parking meters downtown, or buying a burger for the lady behind you in the drive-thru? I guarantee that if you surprise the tellers at your bank with a bag of donuts they will treat you like a hero, and if you take a couple of board games or a basketball to your local women’s shelter, you may turn your bad day into the best one ever.

Good gracious. Here it is two weeks into 2013 and, I swear, we were all in a snit about Y2K just yesterday. How time flies when we're all so busy trying to make a living, get dinner on the table, and find something decent to watch on TV!

My old year ended badly when a precious friend unexpectedly died. I'll feel her loss for a long time to come, but she would want me to move past my sadness and celebrate all that's good in life, so I'm going to try and focus on that.

There’s a lot to celebrate! First off, I finally finished the rewrite of a novel I've been working on for two solid years. Secondly, after a long, exhausting stretch of self-representation, I've signed with Hartline literary agent Diana Flegal, the warmest, bubbliest person I've encountered in a long time. We met this summer, clicked immediately, and I'm looking forward to her guidance as we take my career into the fiction arena. What a transition to go from poetry to prose! Index cards have become my new essential writing tool as I try to keep track of hair color, eye color, middle names, favorite games, and repetitive words—ten chapters out!

Speaking of games, that's my third—and biggest—piece of news. En route to fiction, I took time out for a nonfiction project that sort of fell into my lap: my newest book, THE ART OF STONE SKIPPING AND OTHER FUN OLD-TIME GAMES comes out February 1st from Imagine Publishing, an imprint of Charlesbridge Publishing. The first review is a good one, so I'm crossing my fingers and holding my breath. Of course, if it never sells a single copy, writing it was a great experience; I had an editorial dream team (thank you, Charlie Nurnberg and Kate Ritchey!), the graphic artists totally captured the spirit of the text (thank you, Todd Dakins and Melissa Gerber!), the research was fascinating (who knew there's a World Egg Throwing Federation?!), and my sales reps are awesome.

We Girls Raised in the South (better known as GRITS) are taught from our earliest days that it's bad manners to draw attention to oneself, but in today's publishing world, there's about a 6-week window that determines if a new book will flop or fly, so I'm asking—in my most ladylike way, of course—for your help in making the most of that window. STONE SKIPPING is a collection of instructions and variations on every kind of game you can think of—from scavenger hunts and shadow puppets to jacks and Johnny on the Pony—plus all sorts of fun history and trivia in between. It’s a wonderful resource for schools, libraries, youth groups, Scout groups, teachers, activity directors, and families. Check it out at http://www.imaginebks.com/children/ArtofStoneSkipping.html,  at your favorite local bookstore, or at any of many online booksellers. If you think it sounds worthwhile, would you please spread the word to anyone you think might enjoy owning it or selling it? THE ART OF STONE SKIPPING AND OTHER FUN OLD-TIME GAMES is available in paperback ($14.95) and as an e-book ($9.99). Watch for it February 1st, pre-order it now, and if you're interested in doing a review, let me know and I'll get a copy in your hands.

I hope your year is off to a good start, too. Stay tuned; I have a feeling more great things are just around the pike!

P.S. If there’s a great bookstore, toy store, or gift shop in your town, ask them to contact me about a signing event!

Remembering June This May

Who’s your favorite mother? Well, besides your own, of course. Or maybe you always wished you had the mom down the street instead of the one God gave you—the one that let her kids come and go as they pleased, never issued all those pesky rules and ultimatums, and was SO much cooler.

While I greatly admire the wise and wonderful Marmee from Little Women , I must confess that my favorite mom is June Cleaver. A fellow mother of sons, June offered the perfect blend of intelligence, humor, assertiveness, skepticism, modesty, graciousness and spunk. During all those years when I watched faithfully every week as Mrs. Cleaver capably dealt with crisis after crisis, I had no idea I’d have a Beaver and Theodore of my own someday. Thankfully, my days as a mom never brought forth an Eddie Haskell or a baby alligator to deal with; even so, I feel certain my sons benefited from lessons my subconscious surely retained as I watched June carry out her role as Arbiter of Domestic Harmony without ever breaking a sweat.

In contrast, my own mother sweated a lot to keep me on the appropriate path to adulthood. Working in the yard was always her favorite way to reduce stress; let’s just say our yard looked TERRIFIC during my teenage years! While our living room looked just like the Cleavers', our confrontations weren’t nearly as polite--and occasionally involved a ruler, flyswatter, or switch to help focus my attention. Because I loathe confrontations and learned early the power of words, my favorite battle tactic was to leave a note on Mother’s pillow detailing her horribly unfair assessment of my sin du jour, her ridiculous overreaction, and the depth to which her wrath had grievously wounded me. It’s too bad she didn’t save any of those notes; they would have made great reading all these years later.

I worry about the moms girls are watching on TV and movies today. Are they learning how to instill behavior such as honesty, compassion, and integrity? Do the Real Housewives of Wherever even know those words? And if Mom doesn’t teach basic values, who does? It’s scary to think of a society peopled by “Girls Gone Wild” rather than Girls Helping Girls, but sometimes, it sure seems that's where we're headed.

Be proactive this month: tell a good mom she’s worth a lot more than she realizes. And next time you vacuum, put on your pearls; maybe June knew something we don't.



A Poem by Arabella Eugenia Smith (1844 - 1916)

If I should die to-night,
My friends would look upon my quiet face
Before they laid it in its resting-place,
And deem that death had left it almost fair;
And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair,
Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness,
And fold my hands with lingering caress, —
Poor hands, so empty and so cold to-night!

If I should die to-night,
My friends would call to mind with loving thought
Some kindly deed the icy hands had wrought,
Some gentle word the frozen lips had said,
Errands on which the willing feet had sped;
The memory of my selfishness and pride,
My hasty words would all be put aside,
And so I should be loved and mourned to-night.

If I should die to-night,
Even hearts estranged would turn once more to me,
Recalling other days remorsefully;
The eyes that chill me with averted glance
Would look upon me as of yore, perchance,
And soften in the old familiar way,
For who could war with dumb, unconscious clay?
So I might rest, forgiven of all to-night.

Oh, friends! I pray to-night,
Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow:
The way is lonely, let me feel them now.
Think gently of me; I am travelworn;
My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn.
Forgive, oh, hearts estranged, forgive, I plead!
When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need
The tenderness for which I long to-night.

Ten for All and All for Ten--More or Less

A new poll reports writers' votes for the ten greatest books of the 19th and 20th centuries. It's worth reading the entire article here, but take a quick glimpse at the winners:

Top Ten Works of the 19th Century
1. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
2. Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
3. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
4. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
5. The Stories of Anton Chekhov
6. Middlemarch by George Eliot
7. Moby-Dick by Herman Melville
8. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
9. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
10. Emma by Jane Austen

Top Ten Works of the 20th Century
1. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
2. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust
4. Ulysses by James Joyce
5. Dubliners by James Joyce
6. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
7. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
8. To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
9. The Complete Stories of Flannery O'Connor
10. Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov

Do you agree? Have you read all of these profound pieces of literature?

Aside from Middlemarch, I completely agree with the 19th century list. Despite my friend April's assertion that it's the best book she's ever read, I've never been able to get past the first chapter before thinking, "Nope, life's too short for this." Call me bourgeois; what can I say? In any case, I'd be hard pressed to choose a favorite from the rest of that list; all are wonderful stories whose popularity with generation after generation is certainly testament to their greatness. (My 21-year-old son is currently reading Anna Karenina and is completely captivated by it.)

The 20th century list is a little harder to cheer for. I've only read about half those titles (have tried to read Joyce but, genius or not, he's not my cup of tea) and, of those I have, neither Lolita nor The Great Gatsby would make my top ten list. I wouldn't have wanted to miss them but, frankly, my dear, Gone with the Wind and Little Women brought me a lot more pleasure. The stories of Flannery O'Conner, whom I discovered in high school, stay with me to this day, as do those of William Faulkner, who--admittedly--may be as much of an acquired taste as James Joyce, though I think Mr. Faulkner is infinitely easier to embrace.

Polls, as we are all too aware in this nasty political season, are often nothing more than polarizing tools of propaganda. I hope these will be, instead, a source of inspiration, conversation, and motivation for you or your book club. Most of us don't pluck War and Peace off the shelf for a quick read, and I'm afraid the few of us who still include libraries and bookstores on our list of hang-outs know a lot more about Stephanie Plum than Pip. But there's a deep satisfaction that comes with being "well read;" not only does it give us an advantage on Jeopardy and in Trivial Pursuit, it allows us to feel part of something bigger than ourselves--part of a giant mind meld, if you will, that transcends our differences and brings our disparate selves together temporarily, at least on a literary level.

My 77 Hours on the Left Coast

I just returned from a whirlwind weekend in San Francisco and parts therein. I've made several visits there over the years but, this time, my family came along and I loved introducing them to one of my favorite places.

The purpose of the trip was my nephew's wedding so that, of course, was the real highlight of the weekend. The nuptuals took place at The Tavern at Lark Creek, a charming Victorian inn nestled in a stand of redwood trees. Hard to say which was the more enticing aroma: food or trees! The weather was perfect, the bride and groom all smiles, and by day's end, they were well on their way to happily ever after and the rest of us were on our way to Frisco.

With a full moon shimmering overhead, the Bay was more enchanting than ever. With our limited time, we did what is de rigueur: Golden Gate Bridge, Embarcadero, Fisherman's Wharf, sea lions, Lombard Street, sourdough bread, and clam chowder. We mourned having to miss Alcatraz, Golden Gate Park, and a bike ride across the bridge itself, but we enjoyed an unanticipated trek (read: we got lost) through Oakland's International Container Terminal (a surprisingly interesting sidetrip!), a quick jaunt through the Larkspur Farmer's Market, and a marvelous stroll around Sausalito which culminated in a display of some wonderfully whimsical creations by Dr. Seuss at Petri's Fine Arts.

After so much romance, so much scenery, and lots of special moments with new friends and old, a last-minute suggestion led to the best denouement we could ever have hoped for. En route to the airport, we found ourselves at sunset at Ocean Beach. Oh, my goodness. California's coast has no shortage of stunning views, but this one is truly breathtaking. After our frenetic pace, it was like a visual elixer. We drank in the serenity, the more adventurous of us explored the morass of caves and baths below, then we joined up at Louis' Restaurant (less pretentious than Cliff House, and with an equally interesting history) to cap off our day.

Didn't leave our hearts in San Francisco but, boy, we sure brought home some good memories.

Things We Don't Forget

I was four years old when Hurricane Donna hit Hardee County, Florida in 1960. Let me save you the trouble of doing the math by telling you that, even though it’s been fifty years, I still vividly remember the experience—and I mean remember as in I can still play back specific moments in my head like a black and white movie. Black and white—or, more accurately, grey—because that’s all there is when a storm of that intensity comes to town: roiling grey skies . . . sheets of incessant grey rain . . . suffocating grey shadows in homes and offices where power failures make time and humidity unbearable . . . nothing but swirling, smothering, sopping, seething grey. It was like Mother Nature swept in and sucked out all the color in the world.

Wauchula in 1960 was right up there with Mayfield and Mayberry—a wonderful small town full of gracious homes, manicured yards, a friendly and flourishing downtown, and a thriving agricultural industry based on cattle and citrus groves. Ours was a close knit community of good citizens, good neighbors, and strong faith. Enter Donna, a storm that raged for nine days--September 2 to September 11—as she churned through the Atlantic, demolished Florida, then ripped on up the U.S. East Coast. To date, Donna is the only storm on record to generate hurricane-force winds from Florida to New England. A Category 3 storm for most of her duration, at one point, Donna actually grew into a Category 5. Because of her devastating impact (nearly $3 billion damage, in today’s dollars) and high mortality cost (364 people died), the National Hurricane Center declared that the name Donna would never again be used for an Atlantic storm.

To maintain my goal of blogging this year about “ten” things, I tried hard to come up with ten memories of Hurricane Donna, but I could only manage the four I’ve hung onto all these years. Perhaps some of you readers can finish off the list.

1. I remember sitting behind the screen of our front door watching the wind lift the right corner of the roof off the house across the street, over and over again. (The Lambert’s house.)
2. I remember watching a palm tree that stood in the corner of the Lambert’s yard blow over and crash into the roof.
3. I remember opening the garage door and walking out to stand in our driveway as the eye of the storm passed over. It was absolutely silent and I was mystified at how there could have been such turmoil and then such stillness.
4. I remember my mother cooking on a campstove.

Tragically, any mercy shown to my hometown in the years since Hurricane Donna came to a too-bizarre-to-seem-real end in the summer of 2004 when three hurricanes ravaged Hardee County back to back in a span of six weeks. Buildings that had stood for generations were destroyed, lives and livelihoods were swept away, there was no power for more than a week. Seven years later, the good people of Hardee County are still trying to recover; I'm not sure they ever will.

Thankful to be spared the wrath of Irene, I know their gratitude is accompanied by prayers for those in her path, because if you've lived through a Donna--or an Andrew, Charley, Hugo,Katrina, or Ike, you never forget.