I run into creative licensing discussions when writing ads for clients–frequently.
Many myths abound over an image’s fair use, what’s considered public domain or free, whether you can be sued if you’re not profiting, etc.
The following resource was developed for educators, but it is one of the most comprehensive and easy-to-understand explanations of creative copyright that I’ve found.
https://www.theedublogger.com/copyright-fair-use-and-creative-commons/
Filed under Business, Editorial, My Recommends, Useful Resources, Writing
It’s raining, but my backyard is filled with birds and squirrels—even the rosy red minnows in my ponds love the rain.
Yesterday I saw the cutest baby squirrel inch its way down to the pond’s edge to drink and then munch on one of my water lilies that were blooming right at the edge.
I had no idea that squirrels could eat lilies—nor could I have imagined the sweetness of a baby squirrel face gingerly buried into a snowy water lily! Wish I could have whipped out my camera in time to show you, but it did not last even a moment.
Cardinals and sparrows bring their babies to the feeders. Dove, robins,
blue jays, titmice, chickadees, wrens, mockingbirds—they’re all regulars.
It calls back memories of Grandma Dot, who always
had a metal drum filled with bird seed sitting on her back porch,
some recycled Parkay and Coolwhip tubs to scoop with,
and a rainbow of birds lined along her fence.
Like pigeons on a telephone wire, they would sit
and wait for her every morning to open the door.
Cardinals were her favorite, and I always think of her
when I see our cardinal families come to visit.
Occasionally I see a hummingbird or hawk here
(there’s a cast of Cooper hawks in our neighborhood).
One of the last times I saw a hawk in our backyard,
it flew off with a baby snake! It was right after John died.
I looked up from my computer to see the hawk sitting on my back fence,
seemingly staring right through me before he dove for the snake.
Recently I’ve also seen meadowlark, kingbird, and goldfinch!
Not many yellow birds visit, so it’s always lovely to see them.
If the local monk parakeets ever find my backyard,
it’ll make my whole year.
My yard is a bit wild and definitely not manicured,
and I surely don’t know how to garden,
but it holds songs and peace for me.
It’s my blessing place.
#LoveMyBackyard
—
April 30th, 2021
2:24pm
Copyright © 2021, Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved. No part of my post, writing, or words may be copied and shared without my express written permission and attribution.
Filed under Inspiration, It's An Aberrant Life, Random Thoughts, Writing
That moment…
Revealing the Voice
to someone’s story in their heart;
the meaning behind their work;
the vision they aspire to;
the soul that has been there
…all along.
Words to the songs
no one has sung. Yet.
Wings of the butterfly
not formed, yet.
Born, steps forth
the creator anew.
Welcome to the world,
little song.
—
4-27-2021
Copyright © 2021 by Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved.
Filed under Random Thoughts, Writing
I have a love-hate relationship with each digital app that shows me memories.
I mean, it’s not bad. It really isn’t.
In some ways, it helps me to reconnect pieces of my life, so there’s more in my line of sight than just this crisis or that.
But there’s no denying that being faced with a sudden memory can have an emotional impact at an inconvenient time.
John’s smiling face in a hospital room.
My kids when they were little.
Conversations with friends who have passed away.
Memories from a time that was less “responsible.”
Memories around old goals. Dreams unspoken.
Memories from before deployments.
From before Cancer.
From before Death.
From before.
Before…
These inconvenient memories pop up while I must be serious
and keep my game face on.
Making up for my shitty memory.
Oh yeah. That’s right. I was going to…
Waves crashing…
Is that even bad?
Probably not.
We’ve tried to create a world where public perception and professionalism always mean never showing what’s really happening under the surface.
Never let them see the mud–unless artfully displayed.
Always have a show closet near the door.
A YouTube corner.
Selective reality.
But is that healthy?
Is it natural?
Is it destructive denial in the long term?
Life is full of challenges, some bigger than others.
And that’s how we grow as humans.
Life has always been in the overcoming.
In the transmutation.
It has always been about becoming bigger than our initial perspectives.
Digging through challenges and beliefs–layered deeper than we thought possible.
Reframing our viewpoints.
Dawning new understanding.
Digging into why we’re really here.
What meaningful thing can I learn in this experience that can serve others?
Surviving is surviving.
But to THRIVE, we must grow.
We must transmute.
But that requires acknowledging reality as it is.
In order to transmute it into something better.
Anyway…
Facebook showed me memories today, including a memory of profound words spoken by my son a year ago.
Somehow I needed to hear them again today.
And while I’m inconveniently emotional, I think I’m also grateful…
—
April 8, 2021
9:22pm
Copyright © 2021, Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved. No part of my post, writing, or words may be copied and shared without my express written permission and attribution.
Filed under Friends and Family, It's An Aberrant Life, Random Thoughts, Writing
AI Algorithm: Hey Julia, I have job suggestions for you!
Me: Great! Show me what you’ve got!
AI: “Technical Writer!”
Me: Totally makes sense. I am a writer after all. Let me look at what industry that’s in.
AI: I have others, do you want to see them?
Me: Sure, what’d you find?
AI: “YouTube Media Manager.”
Me: Eh, close-ish. I don’t really specialize in the videography side of the social media pool.
AI: How about “Temperature Taker” or “COVID-19 Test Administrator?”
Me: Nooo. I mean, we have a cancer patient at home and really wouldn’t want to risk that. And I don’t have any formal medical certification either. But I guess there’s a wide-spread need for people to do that job right now. I understand why you might ask. Thanks anyway, AI.
AI: There’s “Office Clerk” and “Personal Assistant.”
Me: Eh, not quite the field I’m aiming for, AI. I hope you didn’t ask because I’m a woman.
AI: I know! “Medical Device Quality Engineer” or “Pharmacist!” Or there’s “Veterinary Technician!”
Me: Uh, nooo. I do write for the healthcare industry, so I can see why your wires are crossed there, AI.
AI: “Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist!”
Me: Um… nooo?
AI: There’s “Nursery Worker” and “Toddler Teacher.”
Me: Look AI, I know I’m a seasoned Mom, but I’m not looking for that kind of work. I’m a writer. Remember?
AI: How about “Full fabrication and installation of quartz and natural stone countertops?”
Me: Excuse me?
AI: Or “Shuttle Driver” or “Car Wash Attendant?”
Me: What? No!
AI: “Farm Hand.”
Me: Now you’re just making stuff up!!
AI: FINE! Be a “Sheriff Department Jailer” then!
Me: 
Copyright © 2021 by Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved. Julia has more than 25 years of experience as a freelance writer, content creator, and editor.
Filed under Business, Editorial, Humor, It's An Aberrant Life, Random Thoughts, Writing
A couple of days ago, a brain cancer charity let me know that I am one of the top 10 influencers on Twitter for brain cancer. The data measurement is done through a service that serves the healthcare industry only.
I haven’t known how to feel about it. I mainly share studies and medical articles aimed at treatment for Glioblastoma. As is logical.
I used to be one of the top 20 influencers in crochet, but… that’s another story.
As I read the note, I was teary-eyed. My son was in the room when I read the note, and he queried the look on my face.
I don’t know how to feel, and I’m kinda sad, I said. I can barely do what I do. I don’t have any resources, and I can’t create a charity or foundation yet. Brain cancer patients suffer so much for lack of research funding.
And here, I make the rank of top influencer on Twitter.
What hope is there for a cure if *I* make the top 10? Because I have not yet been able to do much. I don’t have time to network or chat. I cannot unleash my full dedication to move mountains, create a foundation and find a way to help. All I can do is share links to studies. I don’t even have the bandwidth to write much about it.
And my son said, “Excuse me? What do you mean, what hope? With everything you’ve been through, even while working as hard as you do, you still manage to help. Something good is born. The willpower to make a difference with literally nothing but your determination to do so. You demonstrate the difference that a single person can make, even with nothing. To be an influence for good in the world. And if that isn’t hope, I don’t know what is.”
A second revelation dawned as I felt the truth in his words.
Even one imperfect voice can matter.
I love that kid of mine. And sometimes, he has me in awe.
—
April 8, 2020
7:10am
Copyright © 2020, Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved. No part of my post, writing, or words may be copied and shared without my express written permission and attribution.
Filed under Community, Friends and Family, Glioblastoma, Grief, Random Thoughts, Writing
Business ownership, for me, is a journey of evolution.
A form of spiritual awakening. A human revealing.
It is a Life tool that helps to push me to a higher ideal in reaching my greatest potential.
As I wade myself through Life,
navigating the hurdles and checkpoints,
I find value in what this path teaches me
and the invaluable self-discovery it leads me to.
Up there with parenthood, I believe business ownership to be one of the most compelling and empowering human experiences we can choose to take on.
An experience that will – without a doubt – force us to grow.
Force us to get to know ourselves.
Today, I’m working on my messenger response cheat sheets.
I want to have great responses for common questions ready to go. So I can respond quickly and fluidly over the holidays, during travel, the baking and Christmas cards and care packages I want to do, etc. Maintaining my excellent service without a hitch.
I bust my butt to create them now so I can rely on them later.
Truth is, as a writer, I craft and use cheat sheets and templates all the time. I’m also always looking for better, more effective words. Keeping a journal of vocabulary ideas.
Over the years, I’ve found that cheat sheets, forms, journals, systems, and templates help streamline the work I do for my clients.
It helps me maintain consistent, accurate communication, even during less ideal times.
Times when my brain is tired. When my family is sick. When I have a migraine. When my left arm/hand goes numb from an old injury. When I’m working from the hospital waiting room.
I share this because I know we all struggle with less-than-ideal circumstances in our self-employment.
It’s part of the game.
And sometimes it’s less-than-ideal circumstances that push us into this road of self-employment.
Adversity happens.
It’s absolutely inevitable in the human experience.
The question is – how prepared are you for that eventuality?
If your business is not big enough to hire out for help, then routines, systems, templates, and workflows are imperative to your survival. The “hacks” that will save your ass when the chips are down.
But more than that – it’s how you nurture your business to a place of thriving, not just surviving.
Systems and “self-programs” are the way we work more efficiently, replicate consistent results, and save valuable time and resources.
If you’re self-employed, more than likely, you came to this place of self-employment as a means of creating flexibility in your life.
It doesn’t necessarily result in less work in your life, but it can result in more freedom.
By rearranging your schedule on your own terms.
By rearranging your work in a way that’s best for you.
By accommodating:
additional goals,
a desire to volunteer in some meaningful way,
an illness,
that book you’re going to write,
a disability,
divorce,
caregiving,
introversion,
death of a loved one,
parenthood,
ageism,
anxiety and depression,
a special needs child,
overwhelming family circumstances.
As creators, we have everything we need to create a pathway to thriving success.
The perfect Brady Bunch story does not show up for us on a silver platter.
It never will.
But as leaders and creators of our own destiny, we don’t need it to.
We just need to put the work in,
to nurture
this path
that we say we want to take.
Like a soul-mate,
we must meet our business halfway,
making the commitment
to our flowering relationship
and the fruit it will bear
loving it as we love ourselves.
For our business, after all, is Us.
What systems are you putting into place to nurture the vehicle to the future you have claimed?
—
12-8-2019
Copyright © 2019 by Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved.
Filed under Business, Editorial, Social Media, Writing
It was 20 years ago that I nearly lost my unborn son.
It was in the middle of the night. Four and a half months into my second pregnancy, I woke up in a pool of blood. And it became quickly obvious that I was miscarrying. A call to my doctor confirmed my fears. It was about 3am, so I was told I might as well rest a couple hours before coming in, and that I had a long day ahead of me.
Amidst the various bits of information over the phone, my husband and I were made aware that at this stage of pregnancy, there’s not much that can be done to save an unborn child. That the main concern at this point was my own life and the rate of my bleeding. I was told that I needed to go to the emergency room if my bleeding increased to filling a menstrual pad every two hours. There was blood all over my bed, and I had no idea exactly how much I’d lost. But an hour and a half later, my fresh pad was full. I had no fear for my own life. I didn’t feel weakened by the blood loss yet, but I knew I was going to lose my baby. That I would experience what my own mother and grandmother had gone through before me.
I’m no stranger to trauma, so I did what came naturally to me. I braced for the blow that I knew would come. No fear about it really, just systematically getting ready to get through one more traumatic event that would shape my life as I knew it.
There was no doubt what was happening and there was no reason in my mind to see things any differently. I was going to lose a baby. Women have born this pain for ages. I was not unique in this and there was no reason or time to whine. It was just time to face it and get through. I could fall apart later.
I had accepted that I was indeed losing a child. And for many really good reasons. My mother and grandmother and sister all had before me. And I was readying myself for it. But I had much more reason than most to so simply accept this fate.
Once upon a time, I couldn’t have children. It was absolutely impossible. I was baren. Until I had a full open surgery for endometriosis. In fact, it wasn’t until after the surgery that I even found out. Up until that point, I’d already had to embrace the understanding that women with endometriosis as bad as mine simply have a lot of trouble bringing pregnancies to term. But I was only 23, with the scar tissue damage of someone more than twice my age. It had begun to affect my other organs. I was getting sicker and sicker and something had to be done. Surgery was part of the answer.
However, it wasn’t until they went in that my surgeon discovered that my tubes were completely closed. That meant something quite profound: it was impossible at that point for me to ever conceive.
And so he fixed me.
After the surgery, my surgeon told me that without having me open on the table, there was no way with just a scope they could have seen that my tubes were closed.
I would have tried my entire life to have kids, never knowing why I couldn’t.
That said, the surgery wasn’t 100% successful. I still had problems with endometriosis. But, I lived a much more normal life than before.
So as you can see, I wasn’t surprised to be losing a child.
And as I felt life flow from me, I lay there in the dark preparing myself for the emotional pain ahead, getting my head and heart ready – knowing that after so much already, I was strong enough to endure even this.
It still makes me bawl to remember it to this day. In fact, my face is a soaking wet mess now as I type.
The experience was that powerful.
That’s all the voice said.
And it was then that I knew that my son was alive.
I don’t care what you think. I really don’t. Whether you believe my story, or think I’m lying or you think my mind created the experience because I couldn’t accept my reality or whatever.
Because I know better. I know exactly where my head was. And I didn’t even try to hope.
I spent that first day going through all the things they do in a situation like mine. Doctors everywhere consoling me about what I was about to go through.
My bleeding slowed and days would pass. My doctors would continue to check the heartbeat and have me come in to see them every day. They would send me for ultrasounds to evaluate the new hole in my uterus that caused the whole situation. Doctors continued to tell me that I needed to face the reality that I would lose my child. That I was too calm and not processing the situation as I should. This child was not destined to live. That I needed to get a grip and prepare myself for this impending loss.
But I wasn’t phased. I knew.
It would be 9 weeks before we knew for certain that our son was going to make it. Nine weeks of doctors telling us that we should not hope too much because the odds were so far against us. Until finally, they said one day, well… maybe he’ll be OK after all.
I continued to bleed throughout the rest of my pregnancy, though just a trickle. And a month early gave birth to a healthy baby boy.
So there you are, little one. Thank you for making mommy believe in you.
For years it seemed we had an unexplainable connection. Every time I woke up, he was soon awake. Not crying, not upset or fussy, just awake and ready to be with mommy. It was so prevalent that sometimes I’d wake up and lie there quietly and think to him, no-no-no honey please do not wake up. Stay asleep. But he usually woke up anyway. Other times I’d wake up, and sneak a peek at him while he slept, only to find him awake and looking at me. And I’d think to myself, You little stinker! Are you deliberately waking me up? Or are you just being there for mommy? It wasn’t every night, but this unexplainable connection continued well into his school years.
He is 20 now. And 19 months ago we found out he had a very rare form of kidney cancer unheard of in anyone under the age of 20, just 5 months after the death of his father.
I faced the mortality of losing my baby that night, more than 20 years ago. And an unexplainable voice gave me hope. Gave me faith.
I think about that miraculous experience from so long ago and wonder if I might hear it again.
Will a voice in the dark give me hope? Comfort my soul?
And then, my son comes home from his late-night college class.
And while I am working away on yet another project,
he hugs me and whispers,
“I love you, Mom.”
—
11-5-2019
Copyright © 2019 by Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved.
Filed under Friends and Family, Grief, Inspiration, New Term Tuesday, Writing
I admit it freely – I’m a tab abuser. I turn them up way past 11. When we talk about multitasking, I’m not normal.
Only thing is, I think tabs should be used in multitude. Why have tabs for your browsers at all if you don’t take advantage of the functionality? It better matches how my brain works. The closest thing to a mind map that internetwork can offer. The way I’ve evolved my work relies on the use of tabs as part of my system of processes, switching between task, after task.
When I mention to colleagues that I have multiple tabs open, they often jump in and agree. “I’m like that too! I must have 15 tabs open right now!”
I smile, but they do not understand. They really don’t. Fifteen is nothing. ‘Tis but a drop.
However, I know I have grown a monster that is difficult even for me to manage. And I’m looking for solutions. And you’ll probably ask something about why I haven’t stored them in groups, etc. And it’s because of the many times a browser update has drop-kicked all my tabs, all my collections, my presets, etc.. Been through it too many times.
So I have multiple tabs open and I reload them upon every startup. But the number is getting out of hand. In fact, even I’m surprised that my browser hasn’t crashed sooner.
Thus I’ve been looking for apps and programs that can best help me both manage and pair down the massive amount of data my computer is trying to process as well as how much I’m trying to consume as well. Because my brain handles a LOT of multitasking, but it also has limits and I need better systems and organization to do everything I must.
Sometimes you gotta clean house.
I’ve been looking and digging for months, trying to find something I like, that makes sense to my brain. So this morning, I downloaded Tab Manager Plus for Firefox.
I have no idea yet if it will finally be the one, my tabular soul mate. So many beaus before have tried and failed. I’ve been told I’m too demanding and high maintenance, but somewhere out there is a tab managing system that’s meant for me. One day that prince will come. Maybe it’s this one. We’ll see.
It did show me what kind of tab user I am though. 1001. That’s the number of tabs open in my Firefox alone. That doesn’t count Chrome, MS Edge, Safari, or Explorer. I have 88 open just on Chrome right now.
No, I don’t feel bad about it.
Oh, and this is just my laptop, not counting my desktop. Of course, Firefox has a special design to it that does not activate all open tabs at once, unlike Chrome. So my Firefox tabs are not stressing the system at 1001. Probably more like 101. Give or take.
Anyway, so I’m not sure if I’m the worst of tab users out there, but I think it’s safe to say that I rank pretty high. I’ll let you know how the new gear checks out.
Pics or it didn’t happen? Screenshot below! ⬇
If you have been diagnosed with a Brain Tumor you are not alone.
Meet my friend Greg Cantwell. He is now a 16-year glioblastoma survivor (aka GBM, grade 4 brain cancer). He is also one of two Texas brain tumor advocates to the State. He created a 501C3 called Greg’s Mission for the sole purpose of helping other brain cancer patients – because he’s been there and he knows!
Greg is here to help other glioblastoma patients navigate the system so they can make educated and informed decisions on what’s best for them.
After all, it’s their life!
If you know someone with glioblastoma, or any form of brain tumor (remember, even benign brain tumors KILL) – get them in touch with Greg for support. His services are free to brain tumor patients and their families.
Brain cancer patients have a much lower survivability rate without an advocate. It’s just reality. And most small hospitals do not understand enough about GBM to act quickly enough to educate patients and their families fast enough. In many cases, the smaller local hospitals don’t understand anything about this rare disease at all.
Greg plays a very important role in the brain cancer community and helps patients and their families all around the US.
Brain cancer remains the least funded of all cancers. This is true for research, for financial aid and for cancer support systems that help families with the stress and aftermath of living with brain cancer.
As important as Greg’s services are, as much as brain cancer hospitals rely on and refer patients to Greg for coaching and support, due to insurance regulations and laws, his advocacy services are not considered insurance billable services.
And therefore, the only way Greg can continue this mission – to help glioblastoma patients navigate the system when they have the fastest moving cancer known (glioblastoma can double in size every 2-3 weeks) – is to rely on donations. And most glioblastoma patients cannot afford to donate themselves!
Please share this information and consider supporting Greg’s Mission.
Something as simple as registering Greg’s Mission through https://smile.amazon.com and letting your purchases benefit his 501C3 charity will go far to make a difference in the lives of brain cancer patients and families everywhere.
Filed under Glioblastoma, NaBloPoMo
When I was a kid, my grandfather had an expression he frequently used to refer to people with no sense in their heads. People who “get their education from the funny papers.”
I used to think it was such an odd expression. An odd phrase. I loved reading the “funny papers.” I think it even helped improve my reading skills.
“Blondie” was one of my favorites. Along with “Beetle Bailey” and others. I recently mentioned to my son when he made himself a giant sandwich that he’d created a nice looking Dagwood Sandwich. He froze and stared at me, then asked me what on earth was a Dagwood sandwich. It never occurred to me that he might not know.
I spent the day today working and then attended a local veteran’s festival event that supports vets and their families. Met some good people and organizations, which I’ll share about later.
However, it was emotional for me. I stood there, surrounded by soldiers and vets, in uniform and out. And I burst into tears. Ugh. I tried to keep it together, but really couldn’t quite. Still, it was a good event and I had some pleasant conversation by the time I left and everyone was taking down.
The afternoon of overwhelming emotion left me stripped though. And instead of getting right back to work, which I needed to do, I wanted nothing more than to run away, find a movie theater or binge watch Doctor Who or Good Omens on auto-replay. And I can’t.
So, I did the next best thing. My son and I sat down to eat dinner in front of cartoons tonight. And when my daughter came home from her classes, she joined in with us too.
We started with Phineas and Ferb and ended with Ducktales. Cartoons we used to watch together with John at one time or another.
And it was interesting how helpful it was. I mean, I almost never watch TV on my own. I watched TV with John. And since his death, I don’t watch much of it at all. (In fact, John bought “me” our first TV when we were dating. “Look honey, I have a surprise for you,” as I recall it went.) So it’s been weeks since I sat down to watch anything. And here it was just cartoons that I turned to for relief. Even the ridiculous commercials for kids between cartoon breaks were oddly comforting.
What really struck me though, especially as an entrepreneur, was the Ducktales episode. At the beginning of the episode, Louie approaches Scrooge for money to fund a new hair-brained business venture. And Scrooge tells him that if he wants to be in business, he needs to find a problem that needs solving and then provide a solution. That this was his key to success.
And I was struck by how awesome it was that this cartoon was teaching principles of business to kids. And how Scrooge, who had plenty of money to hand out (and was even at one point willing to give Louie a small loan, but not a huge one), offered advice instead. He encouraged Louie to be enterprising.
It was refreshing, as I try to grow my social media and writing business, now that I’m supporting my family all on my own. Refreshing to hear a solid business principle come out of a cartoon character’s mouth.
Huh, an education from today’s modern “funny papers.”
I wonder how many kids who watched this cartoon when it first aired way back when are now business owners today.
In the next scenes, Louie brainstorms with his siblings to find problems to solve and needs to fill.
He asks them – what does everyone need? And his sister pipes up and says “Crochet hand grenade holders!”
And with that, I just want to make one.
It cinched the deal because I was already thinking earlier this week that I need a Holy Hand Grenade Of Antioch. And that the Maker in me very much wants to make one for prominent display inside my family TARDIS.
And she’s right. I’m going to need a holder for it.
(affiliate link)
Filed under crochet, Crochet Ruminations, Friends and Family, NaBloPoMo, Random Thoughts, Writing
“It’s like you’re a Doctor Who evangelist.”
That paused me.
I measured my gaze.
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking over.
“Every group of kids who come to the door! You’re like, ‘Do you like my TARDIS? Do you know what a TARDIS is? It’s from Doctor Who! You should look that up on YouTube.”
My daughter’s wry smirk looks just like her father’s.
I smile.
She’s not wrong.
Only for me, I haven’t been costuming up that much the last few years.
This year, I grabbed my handknit Doctor Who scarf, a brown “Indiana Jones” hat and one of my wool coats and called it good.
But what I really look forward to each year is dressing up my yard.
You have to walk through the TARDIS to enter my home. Literally.
I bought it in a charity auction 4 years ago, the October before John was diagnosed with brain cancer.
October is our birthday month and I knew this TARDIS was perfectly my birthday gift. I also found a killer deal on a BlendTec the same month, so I was doubly happy.
Little did I know how important that BlendTec would be for John in the coming months.
The TARDIS matched our house under the overhang, beautifully. And the kids and I crafted a garden of hand mines that year to go with it.
It was glorious.
And only the knowing had any idea what they were looking at.
We were only lacking in Weeping Angels at the time. A fact I rectified last year. There are now at least 13 in my yard, hidden everywhere.
I’m sure some delivery people believe we must be very Catholic. Or simply very into angels.
What they don’t know just might steal their future though!
I was so pleased when I first heard that the newly introduced season of the 13th Doctor had an episode with mutant spiders in it. Though in truth, I was disappointed with how they concluded the episode. I’m a fan of spiders and that ending was frankly illogically cruel.
But from a yard decor point of view, my spider invasion combined with the TARDIS and Weeping Angels makes my yard a pretty authentic fan fiction of its own.
We’ve lost 3 trees since John died, but we still managed to put up a good infestation of spiders this year. I couldn’t find all my crochet spider webs that I’ve made over the years. Not sure where they got put, but the giant one went up and giant momma spider, the 10-foot spider we have, was hung on the web with care.
And the effect paid off as always, demonstrated by the audible gasps when people rounded our 200-300-year-old live oaks to step onto our front walk.
You have to have big old trees to display a 10-foot spider in the air.
“There are some fun decorations in the neighborhood,” one kid told me. “But nothing compares to this! Your house is the coolest. I was here last year!”
You can believe that boosted my ego.
Though in truth, the TARDIS and angels stay up year-round.
I only take down the spiders outside. And mostly inside.
But the eclectic inside of our family TARDIS is a story for another time.
“This house has chocolate! Omg, we can have more than one piece??? You are the nicest!”
I love the smiles on the kids’ faces. Even the dubiously older ones.
Here, take another KitKat.
None of that generic crap. The kids get plenty of that from everyone else.
Chocolate. Every year we give out chocolate.
I heard of a family that gave out king-size Snickers bars to kids one year.
I think that’s cool, but I’ve never gone that big. I stick with fistfuls of smaller bits.
I used to have a bucket of shiny pennies that every child under the age of 6 could stick their hand in and grab a handful to take home.
I liked the idea of fostering a healthy experience with a money blessing.
To give little kids that magical feeling of receiving generosity, without measure, only that they must reach out, seize it and receive it.
Besides, there’s something so pretty about shiny copper.
I need to get back to doing that again. Giving change to little kids is not very expensive at all. Especially when you consider the cost of candy.
And while it does occur during The Day Of The Dead celebrations that we have here in Texas (which culminate on November 2nd), I’m not really speaking to that part today. Though there’s certainly an influence and a magic in that part, which I do obviously appreciate.
It’s something else about Halloween. I share my perspective as someone raised without the holiday, who later came into the participation of it, thoughtfully, as a mother.
No one thinks about it being a holiday of generosity.
Its American celebration may have started out with the goal of curtailing mischief, but today, it’s evolved into an opportunity to exercise our imagination, to dress up and play as adults, to face our fears, and to bless strangers.
How interesting is that.
STRANGERS.
Of all things.
Without guilt.
Without shoulds.
Without major expectations.
Without commandment.
I mean it’s simple. It’s candy.
And fun.
And we tell each other how cool our costumes are and find out our favorite superheroes, movies, legends, and puns.
Don’t forget the puns.
No family fights over obligations.
No tantrums for not getting the latest iPhone.
And it’s OK to buy yourself something, just because you thought it would be fun.
Or thought it would make someone laugh.
Not because it was practical or necessary or expected.
It’s an interesting holiday, with something to teach.
If we let it.
Hope yours was great.
Filed under Friends and Family, Halloween, NaBloPoMo, Random Thoughts, Writing
My son asked me to please be there for a friend of his tonight.
Of course, I agreed.
Afterward, I thanked him for asking and trusting me to help his friends.
And he paid me the highest unexpected compliment I could ask for.
“You’re literally the wisest person on the planet I know Mom, how could I not?”
[tears]
Filed under Friends and Family, Random Thoughts, Writing
The mountains are so pretty at sunset.
I gaze into the light.
Blinded above.
Blinded below.
Beautiful trees in my peripheral.
A warm wind swirls across my cheek and I disconnect from my body for a while.
I focus on the gift of sight.
Please God. I wanted him to see Montana.
It feels just like him. Rocky and beautiful.
Air flows around me, separating the barbs of my feathers.
I feel each loosen as I close my eyes.
Arms surround me from behind,
as a head of soft dark hair leans into my shoulder.
I loosen my soul to blend with his.
An eternal moment, destined to pass.
My skin crackles.
The fire burns so hot now.
I don’t want to go.
I don’t want you to go.
I don’t want to be reborn without you.
Please, hold my hand. Don’t leave me.
Knowing is a consuming crown.
Ashes smoke the air.
Desperately. Don’t. Want. This.
My fearless Force of Nature.
You kissed my tears and told me once that you would find me.
That nothing would stop you.
The Raptor I set free, returned but for a while.
Life without your comfort is unconscionable.
I try to calm the smolder.
Afraid to breathe on the embers of my own heart and soul.
Hold the space a little longer please.
“I’m burning up a sun, just to say goodbye.”
— July 31st, 2017 —
Copyright © 2017 by Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved.
Filed under Glioblastoma, Poetry, Random Thoughts, Writing
Even the things we cannot control – we have the freedom,
the choice, and the responsibility of how to handle them.
Thank you, friends. 
—
October 5th, 2019
6:43pm
Copyright © 2019, Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved. No part of my post, writing, or words may be copied and shared without my express written permission and attribution.
Filed under Friends and Family, Grief, Inspiration, Random Thoughts, Writing
In the grand scheme of things, what will matter in 20,000 years?
All I know is that we must spend our energy wisely to get the most out of this experience we call Life. And in doing that simple thing, on a personal level, we can actually effect positive change on a universal scale.
Things go awry when we get outside ourselves. And we miss things. Important things.
I am the center of my own universe.
Nothing is more powerful than I and God in my world.
If I am not attending to my center, then I am not in balance. And if I am getting caught up in the drama of others and things outside, no matter how “justified” the cause may or may not seem, then I am not where I need to be. If I cannot act cleanly, then there is muck to clear away and work through.
I learned a long time ago – I can make a great difference in this world with just about everything and anything I put my hand to.
Without doubt.
But if that thing takes my peace and balance away, and I cannot keep upright, then it is not where I’m supposed to be, or what I’m supposed to do.
—
2-1-2017
Copyright © 2017 by Julia Meek Chambers, all rights reserved.
Filed under Random Thoughts, Writing
People ask about my philosophy for finding my balance.
Especially with all that’s happened to my family, these last 3 years.
Life can be overwhelming.
It can drown you.
And it will without boundaries.
It will without a way to brace yourself.
Find where your wall is.
That place that when you’re against it, you daren’t go past.
That place that makes you face what you want to run from.
That place that you can hang onto when the world rages at you.
When I have trouble with my boundaries today, my wall is my son.
Some will say it should be God.
I don’t disagree, but sometimes it’s when our kids are at risk that we rise up when we otherwise didn’t have it in us.
Sometimes, it’s Unconditional Love, not our vision of a Creator, that makes us see more.
I have a son fighting cancer who needs me to stick to my boundaries.
I need to accomplish a certain number of things.
I need to hit a certain $$ number every year to make sure he has access to the care he needs.
Talk about being hungry enough – most people I know do not understand what hungry actually is.
I cannot hit the number I need if I’m not disciplined about my work and how I bill.
I share that as someone who knows this and still struggles sometimes, even after 20+ years of part-time self-employment.
I share this because my son is my motivation above all else at this time.
We handcrafters, we women, we caregivers, we the self-employed who fight imposter syndrome…
– We must value ourselves and we must reverse engineer how to supply our needs.
Find that thing for you that helps you stick to your boundaries and commitments.
Find Your Wall.
When you have that, you will often find clarity in what is healthiest for you, your family and your business.
Filed under Business, Crochet Community, Editorial, Random Thoughts, Writing
It is difficult to minister to the spouses of the terminally ill.
But somebody has to reach a hand back into the darkness.
Somebody has to.
I cannot turn my back knowing what I know.
Caked in mud, blood and tears.
For now, it is my hand.
Someday, somehow, I will find a way to do more.
Filed under Glioblastoma, Widowhood
In honor of John’s fight against Glioblastoma and for Brain Cancer Awareness Month, our daughter Jack has designed a “Charity Rose” enamel pin to help raise funds for brain cancer research and awareness.
She is donating all profits to the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, which is one of the only foundations that raise money for brain cancer research. Many thanks to Mrs. Rose and Little Matt’s for their support and encouragement along the way as Jack’s vision for this project took shape.
John’s favorite flower was the red rose, so it is fitting that this first dedicated pin be a rose. Jack designed both a red rose and a special grey rose for Brain Cancer Awareness Month. It all started with her drawings, which she then modeled into the many necessary digital files that only she knows how to do.
It is a beautiful design, manufactured in high-quality materials, partnered through one of the most notable pin design companies in the US – and worthy of attention.
There are 150 roses in this first run. Please help Jack reach her fundraising goal and spread the word? If ever there was a cause that I’d appreciate your help with promoting, this is one of them. Thank you for helping her make this work.
https://www.etsy.com/listing/689262850/charity-rose-enamel-pin-brain-cancer
As a culture, we would benefit from talking about grief and aftermath more. No one should feel ashamed or shunned for grief.
Grief deepens us; it is our vehicle for honoring. Unless we are cheated of it and choked off from it.
It is said that God is with the grieving. The understandable assumption is that, of course, a Loving Creator has compassion and comforts the grieving soul. That when others abandon and neglect, God is steadfast. That even when you think you’ve lost all your friends and everyone stopped caring, God will be there, so count on Him. He will always understand. So much emphasis is placed on the righteousness of caring for widows and orphans in the Bible that it makes sense. God is the Great Comforter.
But I think there’s more to it than that. I believe that grief is a vehicle for God’s work in us. It is painful, but a new spiritual, transformative singularity is begun. As sideliners, we have the opportunity with the grieving souls in our circles: to step away from the energy of that remaking or to be a part of the work being born.
If grief is a sign that God’s Hand is present, then we should hardly turn our back and run from it when it appears in a friend’s life. Perhaps?
As uncomfortable as you may be with my obvious scars, you are mistaken if you think that grief makes me weaker.
Giving voice to these thoughts is much more poetic than it feels in real life since I pretty much feel like I’ve been set on fire and left to slow burn, a hot poker turning my coals. But then I wonder if the caterpillar feels pain as it dissolves into the primordial ooze that will eventually become a butterfly.
I desperately did not want to be reborn again. Not now. Not this way. But I’d be a fool not to recognize that my dissolving cannot help but be a part of reaching whatever my greatest potential is supposed to be. John is an inextricable part of my remaking.
Thing is, I was already a butterfly. I’m not sure what’s next.
Thanks to my friend Shari for sharing with me Nora McInerny’s TED talk about Grief. ❤️
Filed under Grief, Random Thoughts, Widowhood, Writing
I'm a writer, crochet designer, crochet hook expert and a serial social media consultant. I like useful but not too serious. This theme is reflected in my life, my crochet and my writing. Life's too interesting and short to be uptight. Carpe Equito!
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