It's the Little Things

I was five. We're learning to write my name.

I'm beginning to remember things Dad taught me, big and small. I guess when you're trying to get yourself back, stuff will come up.

Today I watched a man filling his tires at the gas station. He kept filling his tire, looking at it, trying to feel it. Filling it a little more, filling it a little bit again. Where's your tire gauge? Why don't you know to use one?

When I got my first car, Dad bought me a tire gauge. He explained what PSI meant, and where I would find the information I needed for my specific tires. He taught me how to read the gauge, and check my treads.  Thanks for that, Daddy, It's come in handy.

Other useful things Dad taught me:

How to skate: I was five when dad whooshed up to me on his Bauers and asked, "What's wrong, Princess?" I wailed-- "Daddy, I can't skate!"  He showed me it's not like walking...more like gliding. He demonstrated how to use feet and leg muscles to push outward and propel myself forward. I remembered yelling "Daddy, I'm skating!" Important? Maybe not, but it's the first thing I remember him teaching me.

When in doubt, grow tomatoes: I learned of an acquaintance who committed suicide. Mom sent me out to hang with Dad, who was in the garden. He saw my tears and kept me distracted by teaching me everything he knew about tending to healthy tomato plants. To this day, tomatoes are my favorite thing to grow, eat and can.

How to fly: Dad loved his Cessna 177 Cardinal, maybe as much as he loved his kids. He REALLY loved to fly, and he shared that gift enthusiastically. Everything I know about aviation, I learned from him. He made sure we knew how to control AND  land the plane just in case something happened to him in the air. So in case of emergency, I have the confidence to get a single engine aircraft safely to the ground.

He shared interesting books: 1. The Wealthy Barber-Dad felt I should learn things about investing that have stuck with me to this day. 2. Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet-Dad was very much affected by the novel, walking around sad and hungry even days after he finished it. It taught me empathy and when I think about my own writing--I remember the depressing details that made Pillars such a work of art. 3. Holographic Universe-It's a valuable read about the mechanics of reincarnation. I didn't consider myself bright enough to understand metaphysics, yet I absorbed all of it.

The lawnmower: When I bought my house, he bought us a lawnmower as a housewarming gift. He wouldn't allow me to choose the cheapest one. He also taught me how to check the oil and the absolute importance of it. I always think of him every time I mow the lawn. We still have that mower and it's been 13 years.

Honesty: My father was a contractor--an instrument mechanic in the oilfield. He remained so for twenty-two years, and retired on his own terms. He was successful because he was a good worker and an honest business man. He was trusted. We've taken that lesson to heart, and that is why we are rarely unemployed for long.

Take Risks: Dad was fearless. He drove from Manitoba to Alberta to look for work and went from there. My father took electronics  at NAIT but jumped at the chance to become a pioneer in the field of instrumentation. Then he challenged the exam for his ticket. My father took a job in a new town and moved his family there before we'd found a house to rent. My father used my college fund to start his contracting business. It all worked.

This is my first stepping stone to becoming myself again. If you have memories of things you've learned from your parents and taken comfort in, it would be my pleasure to know of them.

Freya is Four

It's been awhile since my last cat post, so I don't see any reason why I can't irritate you all to distraction and talk about writing at the same time.

It was Freya's birthday on Monday. She is four years old and still perfect. She is deeply adored by her human Mommy and Daddy and worshiped by Spartacus Jones, who makes her crazy, with his constant desire to play when she wants to nap.

I was working on Aphrodite's War when we adopted her from the Humane Society. If you've read the book, then you know there is a black Persian kitten named Amir in the story. I'd never owned a pet in my entire life, but I've met a few, right? . My heroine needed a cat.

Amir was supposed to die in a microwave at the hands of Poetry's vicious ex-boyfriend. Long story short, I couldn't do it. It was too heinous an act. I knew the ex was a psycho, but I am not. I couldn't write such an awful event. It was a smart decision that added depth to the book.

My feelings for Amir grew until I longed for a cat of my own. I asked my husband, and he agreed. It had been many years since he had a pet, and he figured having a pet would be good experience for me, since I'd never had one. He's such a sweetie.

We met Freya in the first alcove we entered. The other cats ignored us, but she meowed at Dan's feet until he picked her up. She stuck her face in Dan's beard and armpits, purring the entire time. When Dan introduced me to her, she crawled out of his arms, into mine and repeated the sweet gestures, minus the beard snuggling.

We decided to check other alcoves, just in case. Surely the first cat we met couldn't automatically be 'the one' could it? She was.

I remember Dan saying, "Honey, turn around." Freya sat watching us from a window with the saddest, most forlorn look on her face. He said, "I'm not leaving her here." And I agreed. Good thing too. As we waited for the adoption to be completed, we witnessed first hand why she wanted so badly to leave. The other cats had pushed her into a corner, hissing when she tried to sleep on any cat bed and growling her away from the food. She was smaller and younger than the rest of them. She spent a lot of time under Dan's chair, and he protected her until it was time to go, shooing away any feline who looked at her with narrow-eyed intent.

I named her Freya after the Norse fertility goddess. When my husband agreed to let me have a cat, I'd gone on line, checking for cat-orientated names from as many mythologies as possible. When I saw those beautiful blue eyes paired with pure white fur, I knew what we'd call her. She looked like a baby frost giantess. I would give her a NORSE name, because she seemed to feel powerless, and I wanted her to feel like a goddess. (The Humane Society named her 'Kendall'. We weren't keeping that.)

It was instant love. She explored our house and afterwards parked herself between us on the couch, to purr and groom, and absorb unending cuddling. Nothing got done for three days as a result of our bonding. Good thing hubby was on vacation. She even slept stretched out between us at night, her head on our pillows.  Now she's our brave little huntress.

I think it was her arrival that changed the novel Aphrodite's War. I was able to give Amir more personality, and Freya the deity took on a much larger role instead of a cameo appearance. I even went so far as to change Freya, the goddess, to look like my new cat. And speaking of cameo appearances, I put Freya-kitty in the book along with our next cat, a much missed Siamese cross breed, Sully in the book as well. They show up in the goddess' lair when Aphrodite visits.

Freya-kitty didn't just change my novel. She changed my whole life. I have a subscription to Modern Cat magazine, a room dedicated to feline comfort and demonstrate my devotion like a fanatic. I couldn't be more content with that. Happy fourth birthday to my perfect Freya. Mommy never knew she could love so hard.