Finally. I begin to feel normal again. I feel the routine of our new family life settling into a calmer motion -meaning slower more fulfilling days. She is well and healthy. Her name is Gabrielle and like my other daughter, she has a subtle Mexican complexion to her features. (One little, two little, three little, FOUR little Mexicans.. some of whiicchh are bblllooonndddee.. and-blue-eyed.)

As for EBAY, I finally got a steady handle on the book keeping aspect of it. I accomplished this by watching free multiple tutorials on youtube. The most helpful to start with was a spread sheet tutorial template by LINDEY GLENN. Next, I printed myself mileage sheets for tracking gas to and from thrift stores/post offices. I also began keeping and organizing all receipts/ thrift and shipping supplies. For tax purposes.

I SHUT DOWN MY ETSY. It was going nowhere and I didn’t enjoy the selling platform at all.

So instead, I now consign my crochet OWLS, SKULLS and NARWHALES at a LOCAL craft and art store in Wasilla called Whimsical Wicks and Gifts. They do already have other crochet artists covering wearing accessories and such so that leaves me a large chunk of handmade inventory to be selling at small (AND ENJOYABLE) craft fairs throughout the winter season. I already have a plethora of mug cozies, baby items plus small crocheted dolls and toys.

Where writing is concerned, I had all but come to a complete stop while in my later days of pregnancy. I was overwhelmed with physical stress, gestational diabetes and lack of sleep. Like a bull though, I did push through. I handled a strict diet. I continued to steadily care for my three children on my own. AND the month before giving birth was my highest sales month on ebay so far. I did alright.

FINALLY THOUGH -I can settle down and tackle my goals at full strength. Really, I am incredibly happy and READY. I’m ready.


the intensity of having nightmares when pregnant go like this

I have fallen into a ritual of writing. FINALLY! What an accomplishment!

Only, as eager as I am to wake up before everyone else and get to writing or reading, some mornings I just can’t clear my mind to actually write. I’m going to go easy on myself this morning considering I “nightmared” all night last night.

My kids spent the night over at a relatives, so naturally I was anxious. I can’t remember my exact dream except I was trapped somewhere with them in a maze like area trying to escape. A waist high imp was teasing us, torturing us with terror methods into staying or getting lost and turning around. In my dream I had decided on a daring move -I tricked him. I don’t remember how but once he realized it, he was furious. He managed to turn himself around in the maze of our hell and charge us. I hadn’t intended to do what I did next.

When he jumped out at us screaming in rage -I tore his eyes out. As he writhed in pain, we managed to escape. Still, however I woke up in terror. My chest hurt and my heart was pounding.

It only took a moment for me to realize that my chest didn’t hurt because I was scared. It hurt because he was sitting on it.. in my bed.. looking down at me with bleeding eye holes and smiling.

THAT’S when I woke up for real.

This intense pregnancy dreaming is for the birds.

The wind is still howling.

baby hill
(this my baby hill)

Part 2: From the Dark #wattpad

Like a child with a frightening wound, I tried to shriek. It was an animal I heard back in my own distinct echo.

Slowly while gasping, I began to pry at the corner of an eye with my fingers. I found that each eyelid was only lightly attached to the other, but to part them meant to tear at my own skin.

Blood mingled with tears and I sobbed.

Read here:

Yesterday, I spent two hours of my early day light savings time smoothing over the structural skeleton of PART TWO and published it on wattpad. It is still early within my time at wattpad, so I haven’t attained any personal accomplishments or meaningful social connects I crave (ones in relation to a writing community) BUT it is a wonderful exercise for my brain. It should give me the momentum I need to finish this story.

The skeleton is already laid out for me. I just need to put the meat on it’s bones and smooth out the skin.

I have found the book clubs! I have YET to join one.. I am slightly turned off by the structure of those that require you to follow, comment and vote on works by the admins for membership approval. Although I have to remind myself.. I’m sure most ladders to success are fixed as rigidly as that.

—MEANWHILE IN ALASKA the wind has been hell. Its been pushing snow up to my front door and hard packing it. For a few hours in the afternoon we get a little sunlight so things briefly melt. This turns my hard packed snow into a glacier setting. I have to open my door and step up with care to cross. I’m pregnant, but even I can’t begin to ask the elderly maintenance man with his shovel  to fix this..

The Dying Cycles a collection of poetry

Living after trauma and seeking the universe through nature. A collection of poetry.

‘For those living after trauma and seeking the universe through nature. A collection of poetry.’

Poem excerpt: MINNOWS

An ache tears into a memory
of your child hand reaching for minnows

Dark blue and small fingers

All those tiny universal dots of fish
we never caught them
and the search felt so infinite

You will lay in bed tonight
thinking again of the tiny silver lights
shattering into darker, deeper places
being the images of life that will escape you

A calm death is in us
Yours has begun to speak a whisper

I’ve heard this noise before,
laying on the dock
when the waves shuddered against us
black trees lent forward
and you watched me drink the water
before I cried for less

You’re scared now
As I was then

Dark blue

but in your hand,
is mine

and small fingers.

Continue reading “The Dying Cycles a collection of poetry”

I gave that B my heart

(bees love hearts)

For valentines I had a handful of crochet orders to complete. Many, MANY Cthulhus, a surprising amount of interest in baby yoda hats and then finally (my favorite) three anatomical-ISH hearts.

Here is the one valentines gift I was able to make and give away myself. This my B. I even went so far as to whip her up a little black box to keep it in.

She is one of my closest friends. I value her incredibly. The mess surrounding her is a comfort zone. No really. We met working at a thrift store together. I was Head of Housewares and SHE WAS A LOWLY CASHIER. (evil laughter) I kid.. she was a cashier and how she had the balls of steel to endure it, I’ll never know. I recruited her to work with me in housewares. By the time I had my fill of housewares and was ready to move on to bartending, I had her trained up and ready to take my lead position. It is fair to say she far exceeds me in the position. I love her and her B face.

I miss working with her and I miss living that thrift store life.

THE MOTHER IN THE MIST a wattpad publication

  1. Here is the link to the story I wrote a year ago and am polishing up, rewriting the ending to and publishing in increments on wattpad.
    Free reading! Mature content warning.
    Sci-fi horror

    A host ship to several colonies of humans and aliens is attacked in deep space. Irreparably crippled, they float for years just barely maintaining life support. Their societies and collective sanities both deteriorate until finally, the last few of them are able to guide the ship into landing on an unknown planet. Their chaos then spills from the ship onto the surface as the survivors struggle to establish a settlement on land. Waiting to greet them though, is a paranormal creature far horrifying than anything they ever endured while in the hell of deep space and it comes with an unholy demand:
    (Dun dun dun duuunnnn)
    I’ll be posting every three days. If you would like to stay current on the story’s development, please feel free to sign up and add it to your library! Votes for the story also bump it up in the popular reading lists.