Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Trying to Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

The lazy, hazy days of summer are turning into hazy, crazy days. Trying to untangle a maze of problems with my new blogger and website did not start the week out well. From the looks of things, my "old blogging site " (the one that would not allow me to sign on)will be floating around in cyberspace somewhere forever because there is no way to delete it.Like a bad penny, it keeps coming back. My new one, www.Sylviassribbles.blogspot.com is much friendlier and does what I ask.
Then there's the website; building a marketing platform to show the world my attempts at pursuing a literary career is more than a stretch for this gal.However, angels come in the form of friends and mine are called TommieLyn and Margie. Oh, how I wish my brain was wired like theirs but since it got short-circuited somewhere along my gestation period, I'm not too proud to cry, "Uncle! I need help!" Thanks to them, my new website www.sylviamelvin.com is 99% up and running. Drop by if you can.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Tired Puppy

The alarm was set to go off at 5:30 a.m. but not a sound was heard because I stared at the clock most of the night and I reached over and turned it off at 5:17 a.m. I didn't want to waken my husband of almost thirty-seven years come July 1st, our anniversary. Yea! My homeland's birthday.Oh, Canada!
After my usual oatmeal cereal breakfast, I packed up my gear-books, water, table,chair and money change bag. I drove down to the Farmer's Market to make my claim on a tiny spot of land under a palm tree. Everyone else has a covered shelter from the searing sun's rays, but not me. I'm beholding to the natural growth so familiar in Florida. The fronds sway back and forth in the once-in-awhile refreshing breeze. I try not to get poked in the eye.
I've found that I like to talk to total strangers about my books and especially my grandmother. So many seem to relate to her story in some way or another.The response has been gratifying and away beyond my expectations. Thank you Lord!
After five hours, and seven books sold, my body is telling me it's time to call it a day. As I say good-bye to my neighboring vendor(Chai tea is her specialty),she reminds me that the big crowd comes next Saturday-Fourth of July! Hey, I may be a Canadian but I'll be down there bright and early like every good American!

Friday, June 26, 2009

Too Darn Hot!
(I told you so.)

Alright. I admit it; after living in Florida for sixteen years, I should have known better but the lure of those midnight- blue, berries, each plumper than the last , kept my hands busy plucking from the well-groomed bushes in Lundy’s blueberry field. Yes, it was one –hundred degrees in the shade and I was the only human in the entire acreage-a sure clue I had no business being there. But in my defense, company was coming to dinner and I did promise a fresh blueberry pie for dessert. Besides, my practical nature told me that the ‘U-Pick Your Own’ for one dollar and fifty cents sign out-weighed the six dollars a pound at the counter.
I placed my Tilley hat firmly on my hot head, strapped the supplied bucket around my waist and took one more swig of water from the standing water cooler before I headed out into the berry field to complete my mission. Mr. Lundy’s words of warning waning in the distance with each step I took. “Don’t stay out there too long, now. It’s mighty hot.”
Time was of no consequence; my main focus was filling the bucket with each added berry. A slight breeze fanned my reddening face and I was proud of my efforts. The container was three-quarters full when I heard the inquiring voice of the owner.
“You alright? I came out to check on you; and here, drink some water.”
“Thank you, I think I will. But I’m fine; another twenty minutes should do it.”
“O.K. I’ll be waiting.”
It wasn’t ten minutes and several handful of choice berries later when the first wave of nausea reared its ugly head.
Oh, oh. I’m headed for trouble. This little excursion is coming to a halt. I turned direction and slowly made my way back to the sun-sheltered berry stand. I paid the fee and as I reached for my change, suddenly my body went weak and I felt the nausea return accompanied by a strange tingling feeling racing up and down my hands and arms.
No, please dear God, I cannot throw up and pass out right here in front of You and this sweet, dear man.
“Sir,” I managed to say, “do you mind if I sit in that chair? I guess I overdid it.”
By the time I sat down, with my head between my knees, Mr.Lundy reached into his refrigerator and placed a cold bottle of water on my neck. A cool compress placed on my forehead soon followed. The relief was immediate. The tingling ebbed and I looked up to see a new customer staring at my sweat-matted hair, flushed face and glazed eyes.
“Do I need to take her somewhere?” she offered.
“No, no,” I protested, “I’m comin’ around.” Thoughts of calling my husband flashed through my mind but then I’d recalled his words of warning, “You intend to pick berries in the heat of the day!” I’d gotten myself into this pickle and I am an independent sort.
By the time the lady strapped on her bucket and headed toward the blueberry field, I felt I was back in control of my body, thanked Mr. Lundy for his gracious help and told him I’d be back next week.
“Come in the morning,” he cautioned. “I’m open at five-thirty.”
Driving home with the A.C. cranked to the hilt, I mused, “Hopefully, my guests will enjoy the fresh blueberries; but maybe my slice should be called humble pie.”

A New Start

I've spent the whole day trying to solve a sign-in problem on my Sylvia's Scripts blog and since I've gotten no satisfaction, I decided to start a new one. Of course that meant a new URL address and password. I apologize to my followers for any inconvenience but if you are still interested, here is my address: