So this is what happened . . .

ProcrastinationI intended to write and post my Day Four – Blogging Challenge rambling on the fourth day from the first day I challenged myself with said blogging challenge, which means it should have been written and (hopefully) read by whomever may read my words on the 19th of March. I skipped a day (as it explains below) and began the post on March 20th. That was a while ago, today is April 27th. My 30 days have passed and I am just getting back on track with day four. Of course, no specific guidelines were set to specify the 30 days had to be consecutive, so failure to complete the challenge I challenged myself with, (and it has been a challenge to keep up with the challenge), Where was I? Ah, – So, failure to complete the challenge is not something I can be charged with. Not yet, I can’t predict the future of course, obviously or the events which impeded my progress may have been avoided, or at the very least worked in or around my schedule. Not that I have a schedule, it just sounds good when one says they do, which I don’t.

So here’s what happened. My sister had a baby. Ahead of schedule. Way ahead of schedule. (apparently no one in my family is great with schedules). As of today, she is still supposed to be curled up in my sister’s womb and getting ready to greet the world, she just couldn’t wait so all 4 pounds of her insisted her way into the world. She is beautiful and incredibly strong and I cannot wait to hold her in my arms. Little booger. One day, I’m making her pay me back for the ridiculously expensive last minute flights we had to book.

So I flew off to Oklahoma to watch my mother’s dogs and her home so she could fly off to Alaska to be with my sister and her earlier than expected teeny-tiny bundle of joy. Two days later I fell on a bit of uneven and jagged pavement, there was minor blood, quite a bit of pain to left sides of both feet, my right knee and right elbow (how I managed to hit to so many parts of me I’ve no Idea, I imagine anyone who might have witnessed my terrible tumble would have been impressed and likely overcome with laughter – I can assure you that would have been my reaction, filled with concern as well, of course. A trip to the ER, x-rays, (nothing broken, though I was sure I would be), three days of pain pills and two weeks of limping later and I was basically back to normal and watching my steps with slightly more care.

During that time, I dropped and shattered my phone on another bit of that uneven, jagged pavement. It spent the rest of my trip, right up to the day before we left in the repair shop.

The good – there was a lot of good.

I had time with my mom, just a couple of days before she left and nine more when she returned, not nearly enough, but I cherish every second with her.

Spending time with my precious daughter and her adorably wonderful husband. She keeps a piece of my heart there with her.

I got to hug my grandmother and my aunt and my beautiful little second-cousins, I didn’t hug my cousin though, I wanted to, but she was a few days away from a c-section and looked like she might bite, so we just sat and had a little visit.

The Half Price Bookstore. Aside from the family that reside there, this little shop is one of the best things about Oklahoma. Let’s just say I had to invest in extra luggage to bring home my acquisitions.

The non-California weather. The cool breezes, sitting on the porch in the darkest part of the night as rain poured and thunder boomed, watching the sky turn to day for a moment at a time with each strike of lightning.

There is more of course – good, great, blah, and blech, (more of the good than the rest), and it would take up more time than I have open on my schedule, at least on your schedule (you probably have one), plus, there is the car accident that happened shortly after we arrived home to tell you all about, so I will save whatever else I have to say for another day.

In the meantime, I’ll finish up Day Four of the blogging challenge and post it soon, you know, as soon as my schedule allows . . . For now, I’ll leave you with what I started before I closed the cover on this laptop over a month ago for an adventure in the real world –

img_1437Day Four – Your Dream Job

Day four of this 30 day blogging challenge, technically day 5 since I skipped yesterday, but I’ve already forgiven myself and moved passed the guilt, there wasn’t much guilt to absolve myself of, practically none as a point of fact. I did other worthy things instead. Hubby took me to my favorite place and I spent an hour (closer to two) roaming the aisles of the bookstore and perusing the back covers and inside flaps of books that caught my eye. I gathered up an armload of treasures, ordered a venti iced coffee (with half & half and classic sweetener) as well as a gluten-free rice krispie marshmallow bar in a crinkly cellophane wrapper and took up residence at a tiny, round table in the corner that was just big enough to stack my books, and place my coffee far enough from the edge to avoid a disastrous, and likely heartbreaking, spill.

My half of the table is always too full, my husband’s half typically has a neat stack of magazines upon which the current issue of whatever he is skimming lay open. Hot Bike, Hot Rod, Guns & Ammo – Yesterday there was even one with a photo of Martha Stewart on the cover. He complains we go to the bookstore too often, but he always goes. He gets frappuccinos sometimes and I always give him the last quarter of my rice krispie bar.

I did other things of note as well, I didn’t complain when we went to the hardware store and patiently waited while he stood before the selection of nuts and bolts and screws with almost as much intensity and scrutiny as I must have exhibited when faced with the new releases or the *now in paperback * display. As a side note, I prefer to have a collection of hardcovers, but my wallet appreciates the paperback prices. There were other things too, I ate, I breathed, I read, I watched Grimm. Just things. It was a chill kind of day.

I was supposed to be doing other things though. Laundry, making a grocery list, etc.. I tend to procrastinate my procrastination, as I am doing right now. I haven’t even broached the topic for day four, which is * your dream job *. Now that it has been broached, I’ll cease rambling and if you’re still following, tell you about my dream job.

When I was young I wanted to be many things, not the typical things my classmates aspired to be anyway. I dreamed of being an archaeologist, a big-rig truck driver, and a vampire, (a good one though). After I got my driver’s license I scratched truck driver off my list. I found out I did not like sharing the road with other drivers. I suppose in a rig I could’ve exacted my revenge upon the mindless masses that filled the highway, but those kind of fantasies are best left to wither. Sounds too much like the plot of a cheesy 80s film.

I nixed vampirism off my list as well, I never could find anyone to turn me and people thought I was weird when I asked. It’s not like I was a psycho or anything, I wasn’t going to feed on people, I’d be a vegan vamp or something. Whatever, it’s a dead dream.

So there was archaeology. I sort of, kind of, (not really even remotely) fulfilled that desire after I had children. My first digs (if you can call them that, and I just did) took place under couches and cushions and overfilled toy boxes in search of lost pacifiers and toys that couldn’t be lived without for even ten stinking seconds so I could pee. Eventually, my excavating prowess led me to the laundry bins where I sought out tiny treasures, bits of crayons, coins, wrappers, crackers, half eaten french fries, and the occasional hot dog. That happened. The list is extensive. Thank God I found that hot dog before it found it’s way to the spin cycle.

I did have one other dream in which I dreamed I would be a librarian, and I suppose that brings me to the point of this prompt. My dream job would be to be a librarian, but since we’re talking dream job here, I wouldn’t be an ordinary librarian in an ordinary library. No, no, no – I would be an extraordinary librarian in and extra-extra-extraordinary library. It would be called Bibliothece Ammirandus, or something cool and latin people would have to look up if they didn’t understand latin, which I don’t. I’m not even certain which would come first, bibliothece or ammirandus. I have a list of words to choose from, all cool and mostly unknown to the general public – 
To Be Continued . . .

Throwback Party #7! Join in! Read, share, comment, & party with us!


Let’s blast to the past for Throwback Thursday!

If you are interested in co-hosting in future weeks, please contact Denise, Jayhawk Mommy, via email.

7 weeks already! Time flies when you’re having a blast!

If you haven’t yet joined in all the fun, now is the perfect time – Click on over and share a throwback post with us, read what others have shared, and take a moment to show them a little TBT love!

What makes this link up different from all the rest?

Simple. This link party is not about dropping a bunch of links and moving on. No, this is about sharing posts from our blogs that are at least 30 days old. You can shine it up so it sparkles again or just leave it as it is. You might want to include an update at the end or not. It’s all up to you. As long as the post was written and published a month ago, add it to the link up. Then, read and share some love to the other posts in the link up.

When is it?

Well, every Thursday, duh! The link up runs from Wednesday night through Sunday.

The Rules

There is only one rule: the post you add must be at least 30 days old. The older, the better.

That said, we’d love it if you visited other posts on the link up and share some love

And, if you wish to follow your hosts, grab the badge and add it to your post or sidebar, we’d give you extra kudos and love you lots! However, it is not required that you do so.

Hosted by:

Adventures of a Jayhawk Mommy

Part-Time Monster

The Qwiet Muse

StL Motherhood


#Throwback Thursday Link Party

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And I Quote – Blogging Challenge Day 3

Hans Christian AndersonI love quotes. Love, love love them. Use ‘em all the time. These days though, they make me nervous. Before the internet came along, I trusted the quotes I happened to be partial to were actually said by the people who were said to have said them, but now . . . I question the accuracy of their authenticity each time I come across a new one and I cringe when I stumble upon an old favorite with credit given where credit is not due.

For instance, I happen to know Martin Luther King Jr. did not say, “Everything that is done in the world is done by hope.” That was another Martin Luther, in the 16th century. I also know that Confucius never said, “A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.” Lau-Tzu was the author of those 12 words. Many love this quote by Nelson Mandela, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” Except Mandela didn’t say it, Marianne Wilson did.

It’s astounding how many misattributed, misworded, and false quotes have been given a life of their own, thanks in part to the fast-paced, non-fact checking, meme generating Ralph Waldo Emersonmasses with an internet connection. You’d be surprised, or maybe you wouldn’t, at the number of quotes attributed to Twain and Einstein alone that were spoken by someone else.

That being said, I’d be hard pressed to come up with a * favorite * quote, I find such beauty and inspiration and comfort and wisdom in so many – each has a special meaning. Some make me laugh, some bring tears to my eyes. Some fill me with peace and hope and joy, others make me think and question and teach me something new, or provide gentle reminders to remember something I may have forgotten.

Quotes can become powerful moments of epiphany or silent sentries of reflection, they can change our perspective or solidify our own thoughts. We come to cherish them, we breathe them in and they flow through our veins. It only makes sense that we honor those who first uttered those words, those who took the time to pen them to a page, to credit them with proper reverence and respect by getting their names right.


Ignoring the flowers – A gentle reminder

CdzHmOFW8AAC3p3I shared a little piece of my heart with The Good mother Project readers,  Why Did I Ignore the Flowers? 

Sometimes our hearts and our minds become so overwhelmed with the busyness of life, we forget to stop and care for the most precious of things until something reminds us to take a moment to breathe . . . This is a short sharing about one of those moments. Perhaps it might even be the reminder you weren’t aware you needed.

Blogging Challenge Day 2 – I’m not sure I can do this.


30 Day Blogging Challenge 

Day 2

~ 20 Facts About You ~

I thought this blogging challenge was going to be easy, but here it is, only day 2 and already I’m stuck. It’s not writer’s block, not this time. I’m facing an even tougher foe than that. I just don’t know how I am going to to do this. Seriously, who came up with this? 20 Facts About You? First of all, I don’t even know anything about you, let alone 20 things about you! I mean, I might recognize your screen-name or your avatar, I may have even chatted with you, but 20 things? I am feeling a little overwhelmed if I’m being honest. I so much want to follow through with this challenge though, so I’m going to give it all I got and hope I get it right.

  1. You are a human being.
  2. You have a lovely smile
  3. You wear shoes
  4. You’re reading this
  5. You woke up today
  6. Every year you have a birthday
  7. You blink
  8. You own more than one pair of pants
  9. You speak at least one language
  10. You’ve done something you’re proud of
  11. You have a secret
  12. You have a nose
  13. Sometimes you’re too hard on yourself
  14. You eat
  15. Someone loves you more than anything in the world
  16. There are floors in your home
  17. You have heard music
  18. Your fingers are attached to your hand
  19. You didn’t have teeth when you were born
  20. You are amazed I knew so much about you

I am amazed I knew so much about you! How invigorating! It’s like I’m suddenly psychic or something. Actually, that’s kind of creepy. I don’t think I want this much power – Hang on, my son is reading over my shoulder and insisting I stop typing and talk to him, he probably wants me to use my powers for something . . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

It seems, according to my son, that I have misunderstood the prompt for day 2. This is embarrassing. Apparently, I was meant to share 20 facts about myself, not you. That makes a lot more sense. A whole lot more sense.


Does this mean I do not in fact possess any psychic abilities? I didn’t want them when I had them, OK, when I thought I had them – but now that they’re gone (I mean never existed), I’m a little bummed. Then again, I am pretty sure I nailed my list of 20 things about you, so maybe I do have a few special gifts. You don’t know, you’re not psychic.

Back to the challenge at hand – I DO know 20 things about myself, so it looks like I can scratch day 2 off my list with no worries. Here goes –

  1. I was born on the first day of summer. There was a rainbow. And a unicorn. That is not true, sorry about that. There wasn’t a rainbow. Okay, there wasn’t a unicorn, but there was a rainbow. I think. There probably should have been a unicorn though, because hello – unicorns are badass, as am I. My birth-date makes me unique, because I was born on the cusp, I am both Gemini and Cancer. Like I said, badass.
  2. My husband was my high school sweetheart. I still like him.
  3. I have 13 tattoos, obviously I’m just starting my collection.
  4. I have 11 piercings – before you ask, they are all on my ears. 6 on the left, five lobe, one cartilage. 5 on the right, 4 lobe, 1 tragus.
  5. I hate waking up in the mornings. Like, bring me coffee, don’t talk to me, don’t turn on a light, touch me,or breathe loud enough for me to hear, kind of hate.
  6. My dyslexic mother taught me to read when I was 4.
  7. I lived in a cabin the woods in Alaska when I was a little girl, I am talking serious homesteading hippie parents kind of living. They built the cabin. With logs they cut. I kid you not.
  8. I am the oldest child, explains much of my awesomeness and badassery.
  9. As of this year, 2016, I am entering into my 27th year of parenting and am proud to say I still retain a few functioning brain cells.
  10. I am an introvert. I like to say I am a misanthrope, but I’m not really. Not entirely. Can one be slightly misanthropic? Well, I am.
  11. The sound of chewing/crunching/whispering/paper-crinkling etc, drives me murderously insane.
  12. I am socially awkward, conservative, and love Jesus so most people make assumptions about who I am before they really get to know me. Which works out sometimes, you know – because of the whole introvert/slightly misanthropic thing I have going on. But seriously. It hurts to be judged. Stop it.
  13. I am obsessed with words. Writing them, reading them, learning them, saying them, spelling them, studying them. Word.
  14. I have read dictionaries for fun.
  15. I kind of hate talking on the phone. Or to people in general. You though, I’d totally talk to you. Maybe.
  16. I don’t drive on highways or freeways or expressways – whatever they are called, I don’t drive on them. It’s limiting, I am stuck to my part of town or wherever I can get to the round-about-way, but I manage.
  17. It usually takes me a day to read a book. Sometimes two, every now and then three days. If I’m busy and the book is long it could take longer, but I usually read kind of obsessively once I open one up.
  18. I am usually filled with a crippling self-doubt, I still say I am badass though.
  19. I enjoy intelligent conversation and wit, sarcasm done properly, and intellectual stimulation. A abhor ignorance and pettiness and meanness. Walks on the beach are fine until I get sand between my toes or seaweed touches me.
  20. I have four amazing children, I love my husband, my mother is my best friend, my sisters are my heart, I believe faith really can move mountains, or at least help us find our way around them, and I cherish those I call my friends who call me friend right back, loving me for me – quirks and craziness and all.

Alright then, there we have it. 20 things about you, 20 things about me.

~ Finis ~ 


Therapeutic Page Turning – A year of books

1934471_10207214332490178_6824455770047232319_nI read. A lot. It’s therapeutical and just about anyone who really knows me will readily attest to my need for therapeutic intervention. Some of the greatest minds to have ever put pen to a page have lent their wisdoms and talents to greatly benefit my physical and mental well-being. My blood pressure regulates, my blood sugars lower, and my anxieties are quelled when I sit with a book in my hand.

I’ve tried other forms of treatment. I’ve driven to offices in multi-storied medical centers or cozy little cottage-like buildings and sat upon soft leather chairs, scratchy linen covered sofas, or hard plastic chairs and stared across the room at men and women with their achievements and accolades in gilded frames upon their walls, listening, or at least trying to listen, to their assessments and suggestions. They almost always sent me away with prescriptions and referrals, some of which I tried, some of which were necessary, but none of them proffered any relief without medicinal, chemical or what I felt, intrusive aide.

So with the exception of those doctors and specialists I needed to control the physical aspects of my healthcare, I stopped driving to their offices. I stopped seeking assistance in the form of degreed professionals and I sat in my own cozy, softly covered chair in my own lovely living room or beneath the soothing sun beaming down upon my porch and began to read. Reading was nothing new, I’ve devoured books throughout my life, but somehow I had forgotten the healing power of simply relaxing and drifting into another world and losing myself, as well as my worries and fears and whatever ailments are ailing me, between the covers of a book.

Some days, some weeks and months, my need is greater than others. My family often jokes that when I am on a reading bender, it means I’m crazier than usual, and often that is true. Sometimes though, I read simply for the joy of reading. Either way, it benefits me and fills a need within me.

In January I decided I’d keep track of the books I’ve read for the year. I also decided I’d write up a little review for each of them, but after reading one I’d grab another, and then another and the reviews were forgotten. I’m determined to do it still, but I have to finish my current selection first . . . we’ll see what happens.

Maybe my Books I’ve Read list will one day become a Books to be Read for my children and grandchildren and they will begin their own list for future generations of readers. I like the thought of that.

My list thus far is varied and random, as it will always be – Some months the number is higher, some lower.  I’m curious to see the picture my monthly page count paints as a reflection upon the status of my state of mind over time.

Books Read in 2016 – January & February 

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury – 247 pages

The Tragedy of Mr. Morn by Vladimir Nabokov – 144 pages

Iremonger, Heap House by Edward Carey – 405 pages

Foulsham, Heap House by Edward Carey – 324 pages

Lungdon, Heap House by Edward Carey – 502 pages

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman – 293 pages

The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Expury – 96 pages

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’engle – 245 pages

The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury – 275 pages

Coraline by Neil Gaiman – 160 pages

The Asylum Novellas by Madeleine Roux – 337 pages

Blindness by Jose Saramago – 326 pages

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce – 357 pages

The Confessions of Max Tivoli by Andrew Sean Green – 267 pages

The Defense by Vladimir Nabokov – 256 pages

The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy – 53 pages

Look at the Birdie by Kurt Vonnegut – 251 pages

The Storied life of A.J. Fikry by Gabriella Zevin – 267 pages

How to Think Like daVinci by Daniel Smith – 186 pages

Candide by Voltaire – 130 pages

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel – 333 pages

The Man Who Made Lists, Love, death, madness & the creation of Roget’s Thesaurus by Joshua Kendall – 294 pages

The Bazaar of Bad Dreams by Stephen King – 495 pages

Alice by Christina Henry – 291 pages

Pride & Prejudice & Zombies by Jane Austin and Seth Grahame Smith – 317 pages

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Phillip K. Dick – 244 pages

Midway into March now and I have a growing stack of books to add to the list and beautifully filled shelves of books waiting to be read. I think my therapy is going well . . .

30 day Blog Challenge – Day 1 (because a blog needs to be blogged)


I stopped writing.

OK – I haven’t stopped writing, that would be like consciously making the decision to discontinue breathing, but I haven’t been writing much, or at least nothing I’ve deemed worthy of sharing. I’ve been reading and doing yard work and laundry and reading and helping my boys look for work and wrestling with health issues and reading and drinking way too much coffee. The words I wish to wrangle to a page are being stubborn and scattering themselves in little pockets of jumbled knots in the deepest recesses of my overwrought mind.

In an effort to jump-start my creativity, if indeed it still exists, I began searching for writing prompts, something I’ve never really done, and I came across this 30 day blogging challenge. I wasn’t sure if I was up for a challenge, but the topic for day one is something I’ve already written, so a little copy and paste is getting me started. Cheating? Perhaps, but I prefer to think of it as a baby step, one tiny, teetering step toward something more . . . besides, writing this little intro has got to count for something, yes?

Alright then. Day One – Your Blog’s Name – Easy peasy. That’s not my blog name, but then I’m sure you know that. Below you will find my cheeky explanation to the question at hand . . .

11027125_10205645105700489_1881032156081535269_nI’ve been asked several times why my blog is called The Qwiet Muse, and have also recently been informed by a few folks that I spelled quiet wrong, (just in case spell check didn’t catch it). So sweet. To put those helpful minds at ease, I spelled it that way on purpose. Spell check has been my saving grace on many occasions, however, this one I fought it on.

Words, as you know – must know, or should know, often have more than one meaning; you may think of the word muse and envision some mystical, magical creature of beauty floating overhead, gently guiding along inspiration. But believe me, if some ghostly apparition ever stops by for a brainstorming session, I’m outta there. I’m running and writing about it later (and elsewhere).

Muse can also be defined as an instance or period of reflection, a source of inspiration . . . My particular muse comes from everything around me; my faith, my family, my friends. My muse exists in all the wonders of God’s creation and in my unique human experience.

The Qwiet Muse is a reflection of me. It’s derived from my original screen-name, qwietpleez, and muse for my inspiration; the reasons I write.

Onto to origin and etymology of, ‘qwiet‘ –

qwi-et [kwahy-it] adjective. Basic definition – the same as quiet. It’s the same word, with the obvious distinction of containing a W in place of the U.

  • making no noise or sound, especially no disturbing sound: qwiet children.
  • free, or comparatively free, from noise: a qwiet house.
  • silent: Be qwiet!
  • restrained in speech, manner, etc.; saying little: a qwiet person.
  • free from disturbance or tumult; tranquil; peaceful: a qwiet life.

verb form 
* to make qwiet: Qwiet down in there, or else!
* to make tranquil or peaceful; pacify: to qwiet a crying baby.
* to calm mentally, as a person: There, there, be qwiet now.
* to silence: Qwiet!

Origin: 1997; English(ish). Derived from (adj.) Middle English quiet < Latin quiētus, past participle of quiēscere ; (v.) Middle English quieten, partly derivative of the adj., partly < Late Latin quiētāre, derivative of quiētus.

*credit and apologies to

Historical Account:

In the summer of 1997 a young mother (me) was creating her first email account. Her beginning attempts all failed, the names she chose were unavailable. She wanted something witty, something fun, and memorable. After several hours and many unsuccessful attempts, her frustrations began to rise, as did the playful rambunctiousness of her children.

Her attempts at quieting them were equally unsuccessful. Finding it increasingly hard to think, she found herself repeatedly requesting silence. Calm down, lower your voices, hush, go to the other room, knock it off, zip it, chill out, and other such requests went ignored.

Her final, shouted request, not only stilled the room of sound (for a moment), but became her victory at the keyboard as well.


She was filled with trepidation, dreading another ‘unavailable’ message but she pressed on, one key after the other. Q w i e t p l e e z. This was it. It was perfect. Her finger hovered over the enter key, she closed her eyes and pushed it. When she opened them, the message said ‘success’!

So there you have it . . . oh, by the way. I realize please is spelled wrong, I like it that way.