Author: Carol Ann Ross

                LIFE STINKS
Out and about today, checking out the water–the sound. Geez, it was mighty peaceful–t’was nice.
Low tide comes along slowly, so does the smell that comes with it. Low tide is all about life; its beginning and ending. You can see it. Hermit crabs are out, fiddler crabs are scuttling along the marsh searching for food. Little fish are making sure they don’t get stranded in the mud.
So much life comes from the sound where bigger fish come to spawn, shrimp are doing it too, other shell fish, all sorts of sea life (including sharks and rays) come to the sound where there’s food and safety.
All that life is another world and it has a particular smell. I liken it to collards cooking or when I was a kid and would pull the covers over my head and let one rip.  Anyway, I’ve come to love that smell–it’s life.

QUOTE: There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle-Albert Einstein
QUOTE: Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing-Camille Pissarro

WRITING TIP: stay amazed at what you are capable of.

     Before 6 this morning; it was so beautiful I had to take the shot, but then two seconds later the sun breached a bulkhead of clouds and it was even more beautiful–seconds later, even more…it just doesn’t stop.
     Along the shore of my church, I contemplate a scene in a fiction I’m working on. Paula is tall (for a woman) lanky, almost boyish, with a shock of mousy brown too curly hair. Her heart belongs to the ocean and to a man who holds everything that love is supposed to be. Her trust in him is palpable. And he loves her heart, her goodness and how easy she is to manipulate. He will break her heart. He will destroy that which made her believe in dreams, and the hurting…it just doesn’t stop.

Quote: I wake up in the morning and my mind starts making sentences, and I have to get rid of them fast–talk them or write them down-Ernest Hemingway

Writing tip: God made post-it-notes for a reason. Write down everything. If you are afraid of what others may think of what you write, then you shouldn’t be a writer.
   
   

                                                                  Early morning beautiful.

QUOTE: Go outside amidst the simple beauty of nature and know that as long as places like this exist, there will be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be–Anne Frank

WRITING TIP: keep it cohesive, keep it simple.

A short while back I mentioned that I was writing an article about Monty Brigman for Livin’ Out Loud magazine–well, here’s Monty and his lovely wife Pansy many years ago. The photo below is Monty now. Monty fought in World War II. He was kind enough to sit down with me for an hour or so and tell me about those years of war. You can find the article on Monty in the above mention magazine; it is on line and copies can be found at the Sneads Ferry library, the Hampstead library, lots of doctor’s offices and many shops in Surf City. Hope you enjoy the read.

What a fantastic 4th of July. Shrimp on the barbee, burgers and good friends. It was a quiet night—huh? watched everything from afar–from the dock–must have been seven shows going on from Hampstead to Holly Ridge–we saw so much from a distance.

QUOTE: Everything wasn’t meant to be chased. Certain things were made to be admired from afar.

WRITING TIP: stand back and observe your characters.

     There’s something about some beings that sets them apart–something that catches the eye and says I’m special-you’ve never met something like me before and never will again.
     It happens rarely, I guess that’s what makes it special–makes it dear, rich and sweet–makes it the answer to some dormant question.
     There was this little mare once, Star, we had a connection and she made me dizzy when I wrapped my arms around her neck. I drowned in her eyes. She was something special.
     Some people make me feel that way. I don’t know why. But something comes across in the glimpse of an eye-the window to the soul, and it says I’ve lived or I have a secret so powerful it changed my life. Want to hear it? 
     Ironically, there are no words for it, or at least simply saying words falls short. Still, I rush to hear their promise.
     I found this little guy (starfish) on the beach this morning–all alone–and so many people had walked past where he lay. I felt as if I was meant to pick him up (before the gulls pecked him apart) and took it as an omen, a good thing, that there really are things that are meant to be and that if I am still enough, they will find me.

QUOTE: the world gives you so much pain and here you are making gold out of it-Rupi Kaur
Writing Tip: does what you write make sense?

     Yesterday I was doing my daily walk–early AM, I mean EARLY,  and I came upon a pair of sunglasses. This is not unusual, I find stuff all the time as I walk (hats, glasses, knives,etc) so I thought, I’ll give them to one of my friends. Well, lo and behold one of my friends was walking his dog on the beach–I saw him in the distance, walked the steps to his beach house and showed him my find.
     Long story short, they were Costa sunglasses and not knock offs either. The real thing. My friend,  Jim affirmed that, he would know (with the help of his computer)
     These I keep. These I need, don’t I? After all, isn’t it chic, fashionable stuff that makes us important–takes away all ills, sadness and all other sorts of crap. Well, the moment I tried them on–holy moly! I became younger, prettier, more intelligent, kinder, more understanding, a better person all around! Amazing what expensive stuff will do. I’m going to have to try this sort of thing more often.
    I think I can tell the difference between the Costas and the Panama Jack’s–yes, yes, I think I can!

QUOTE: It has always seemed strange to me…the things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self interest, are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second–John Steinbeck.

WRITING TIP: Find that place that is the sweetest place to write from.
   

QUOTE:”How the holy and the profane mix in the light of day…is sometimes the most beautiful thing in this world…After failure and defeat, a concentration upon certain beauties …can lift the wounded past roundness”–Mark Helprin

WRITING TIP: I try to avoid writers who detail their characters idiosyncrasies and never refer to their souls. It’s like biting into an apple, hearing the crunch but never tasting it.

    For the last few years I’ve been trying to do what every aging person does, stay healthy, stay as fit as possible. It’s the vanitything or the  I can’t believe I’m actually getting older thing. Whatever it is, I do it and I’m putting up the good fight—at least what my pocketbook will allow—the right creams, hats, exercises, and walking. That’s my big thing, walking. Every morning I walk three miles and when the tide permits, I do my walking on the beach. I’ve found that the ocean breeze sort of keeps the sweat from puddling in certain parts of my body. And besides, you can’t beat the view. (Young Marines running and exercising) No, no, it’s the ocean—really—it’s the ocean.

     But I digress; a few days ago while walking (and I do so at a pretty good clip) I somehow lost my keys. I always place my keys in the top part of my swimsuit. (I wear a swimsuit so I can wade into the water if I want.) Now, I’m thinking that this part of my swimsuit is a secure place since I have no pockets. One would think so, right? How could they possibly fall out of there?  But this particular day I did some bending and stooping to retrieve beach glass and since I walk at a fast pace and don’t want to break my stride, I bend quickly and continue on my way. That’s what must have happened. I bent, they fell out. Five years ago, that wouldn’t have happened. Ah well, all the walking in the world is not going to make that part of my body what it used to be. Everything is heading south. I guess I am a true southerner now.
     All the face lifts, breast implants, enhancements and plastic surgery is not going to make anyone any younger. We just look pinched and pulled and foolish.
     We all age. Face it. Embrace it. With women it seems everything drops. We loose the tightness and elasticity of our skin, our hips broaden, and some of us get mustaches. YUCK.  But what about the men? They don’t get off scot-free, though they may think they age better than women, it’s really not true. Older men lose their butts, I mean, it disappears completely. And after fifty-five the belly drops leaving them to look somewhere between six and eight months pregnant. And oh yes, they get boobs. All old men have man boobs. If you think about it, men turn into women as they age. That’s just the way it is.
     But there is a beauty in all of this. A higher plane, if you will. It’s the difference between looking at someone whom you did not find particularly attractive at one time and then having gotten to know them for the fine person they are, realizing that the curves of their lips are beautiful, the way they hold their hands exhibits grace and strength, and the way they laugh is captivating. There is so much more to each of us than just our appearance. There is so much more to life than what we see.
     I remember the first time I looked at my father and realized he was aging. Suddenly, and shockingly, I felt the sting of mortality and acknowledged that he was not indestructible. The feeling was as if my insides had been swept away, that all I held so tightly had vanished.
     Realizing that you can’t keep things the same, or make someone stay, or mend the damaged and broken—that all you can offer is you, your truth, makes me want to be the best person I can be and that has very little to do with whether or not the keys fall out of my swimsuit top.
      This is what time does to us, makes us look beyond the present, appreciate the past and embrace the future. That outward stuff doesn’t mean a thing. We are so much more than that.
     Back to the keys. After a couple of hours of hunting and meeting some really good people who offered to help look, I phoned the police—a good Samaritan had turned them in. Hallelujah! God loves me!  Lesson learned! Oh, the keys will still be “nestled at home,” however, I’ve sewn a tether into the top of my swimsuit and the keys will be tied into place from now on.

I am always fascinated by old men and dead men–guess they are the safest (hardy har har) But really. this man pictured above is truly one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met. His name is Monty and he is 94 years old. He was in World War II and spent most of his time on a transport ship delivering young Army soldiers to their destinies. I can only imagine how his life experiences have molded him. Nonetheless, his brilliant shining eyes, belie a knowledge and understanding of life that is beyond words. Livin’ Out Loud magazine should have an article (written by moi) coming out in the near future. I’ll let you know when. In the mean time, feel blessed that men like Monty walk the earth.

Quote:When we focus on our gratitude, the tide of disappointment goes out and the tide of love rushes in– Kristin Armstrong

Writing tip: Listen to people who are old (or older than you) they know secrets to happiness.