Whee!! This concludes the 20 posts in 20 days marathon--waaaaay beyond the 20 days. And, it begins another category of posts, Bookmarked. I'll be sharing some of what I find in my web surfing in future Bookmarked posts.
BBC online news page for children 
Passion For Business: The Self Employment Blog
ABC News Video and Audio Clips
Plastic Water Bottle Dangers Info
Cartoonify Your Chats (and make up your own to create your own cartoons)
After I responded to a post on an email discussion for writers post about being discouraged from writing because the novel in the mind became rubbish on the page I thought I'd post my response here in case some other discouraged writer happens by.
I dare to give advice on the subject because, "I've written a thing or two about a thing or two," my version of what the bad stepfather says in the movie version of the memoir This Boy's Life, by Tobias Wolff.
My advice to the discouraged garbage writer:
Well, that's what I call the garbage stage that most writing goes through, particularly when one hasn't done a lot of it, and even sometimes when one has done a lot of it. One has a great idea, dialogue comes to mind, characters whisper in the corner and follow one around during the day, one wakes at night thinking about a good scene, etc. Then, full of anticipation one sits down to put it on paper or on screen, writes furiously, or haltingly, as the case may be. Then, one reads it. Ugh! Garbage. How did that happen? Where is all the deathless prose I though was at my fingertips? Who am I kidding? I can't write worth (supply fitting epithet)!
The solution is just go right ahead and write garbage. It's all nutrients for what will grow from your future cultivation of the raw material.
The way to write is to rewrite.
The writer then asked, "Do I basically need to give myself permission to write
rubbish?"
Yes, ma'am. That's it exactly. You did not expect to be able to walk the first time you stood up. Only English teachers expect you to write literature on the first draft.
Just put your behind on the chair, pen or mouse in hand, and write. Fix it later, maybe not even read it until you've let it sit for a week or so.
And, I'm adding now,
Rewrite it until:
1. It looks right on the page--print it out and look at it.
2. It sounds right when you read it aloud.
3. It feels right, in your gut. You'll get a sort of gentle "Uh Huh" feeling in your midsection to confirm that it's right.
You don't need to know what's wrong with it technically, just experiment with it until it meets the Three Tests above.
You're welcome.
I
recently ordered a new book from the UK titled "The No Diet Diet
The book, which I quickly read, appeared to be just what I hoped it would be: research based, tested, step by step application of the "do something different" approach to change in a field where it is greatly needed, easy, doable, sustainable weight loss.
The "No Diet Diet" is based on changing one's habitual behavior, and not directly related to eating, fat, or food. Using easy, simple assignments, it enables the participant to break up patterned behavior unrelated to food by focusing on habits in general.
Eager to test the methodology myself , because I know enough already about its underlying principles from other study to believe it is likely to work, and thinking it's often more enjoyable and easier to work/play alongside others, the buddy system and all that, I thought I'd share my own testing efforts by inviting others to join me. So, I set up a blog to track the experiment and put out an invite for fellow participants to see if the No Diet Diet program will work for them.
I'm in my second week of the experiment, and finding the side effects of the program fascinating.
The program consists of 28 days of easy to do tasks, one per day plus a couple of extra ones in two of the weeks. The first task is "don't watch TV today, and if you don't watch TV anyway, then don't listen to the radio." I didn't think I watched much TV anyway, but found myself recurrently thinking I'd go turn it on while I took a short break, had a meal, whatever.
And, the next day, and every day since then I've noticed I don't automatically go to the TV at the points I'd have done that before the no TV today task. As simple and easy as it is to "sit somewhere else" today or "watch no TV today" those tasks not only affect the areas they are directly related to, but have an obvious and good ripple effect. Other participants in the experiment are reporting the same results.I believe this book, and additional titles the authors will undoubtedly produce, will have a profound effect not only in the field of weight reduction, but in a much wider area of behavior change. I'll make a prediction: If this works, it's going to make the weight reduction industry (and it's huge, no pun intended) either oppose it vigorously or incorporate and integrate its methodology into their own
programs.
UPDATE On The Experiment:
Well, it didn't work, or I should say, it didn't work for me. At the end of the experiment I weighed almost exactly the same amount as at the beginning. I may have gained a couple of pounds, can't be sure, my scale is not totally reliable (whose is?). But, I still think there is much in the book that is useful, and I think I'll go back again and work through it, innovating on the book this time, and reporting both my innovations and additons, and the results. But, so far, I'm not ready to do that. When and if I am, I'll announce it here and on the experiment blog linked on the sidebar on this page.
I think one of the reasons it didn't work for me is that it is written for a British audience, and so some of the approach just didn't fit me as someone from a different culture. Another reason is that it did not have relevant to me assignments much of the time. Something was missing, I hope to detect what it was and add it in next time.
10. More hours in the day. 
9. More money in the bank--and in her own name.
8. The toilet seat down.
7. To cook only when she wants to.
6. A man who cleans his whiskers out of the sink, does not snore, listens when she talks, talks when she wants him to, and says, "Gee, that's too bad, honey," when she tells him her troubles, instead of "Here's how you can fix that."
5. Friends who are loyal and have a good sense of humor.
4. To be told, truthfully, when she looks good.
3. Chocolate that does not have any disadvantages to eating it.
2. Exercise one can do in one's sleep.
1. Equal opportunity, equal respect, and equal pay for a day's work.
About fifteen to seventeen years ago, we're not too clear on it, a yellow and white tiger kitten came to my front porch and explained to me that he was starving. I knew that was what he was saying because I speak cat, at least somewhat, learned in my childhood from Pitsy Paintsy, Puff, and Cleopatra. I was cooking roast beef, the smell wafting outside the house, driving the homeless kitten to desperate measures.
I poured some milk in a jar lid, added a few pieces of bread, and placed it on the porch, then went back into the house to respect his fear of humans, and watched out the window as he gobbled it up. He returned later in the day accompanied by another kitten who looked very much like him, except she had longer fur, with a white patch at her throat and four white feet. We gave them both some roast beef.
The next day, yet another one arrived with his siblings, a gorgeous long haired black and white, big beautiful eyed kitten. We thought surely this was all of them when their calico mother appeared soon afterward. The kittens were wild and would let no one near them. The mother was a bit of a whiner and wanted to come into the house, which, it being summer and not being cat in the house people, we declined.
We'd put food out for them on the stones along one side of the big flower garden, and, from the deck, we watched them eat and play. After a few days of this, we saw a dark blur move among the flowers. It was the scarediest, most wary, most wild, smallest one of the litter.
Over time, with gentle stealth we made friends with all of the kittys. They lived outside that first winter in a dogloo insulated with cardboard and crumpled newspapers. They'd wrestle and play in it, bouncing off the cardboard inner walls making thumping sounds one could hear inside the house.
One of my sons and his girlfriend were photography students at a local college at the time. They decided all the kittens should be named after famous photographers. The black and white one became Ansel, after Ansel Adams. My first visitor became Edward, after Edward Steichen. His look alike sister was named Margaret, after Margaret Bourke White. And the smallest one became Freya Diana, after both Diane Arbus and the goddesses Freya and Diana, because she was a great hunter. The mother cat was just The Mama Cat.
The Mama Cat had to be euthanized that first summer. The vet said she had probably been abandoned pregnant with her first litter, and the babies born in the wild area near our house. The kittens were therefore feral cats, and though we were able to tame them all, FD remained a wild cat at her core.
All except FD met various fates. Margaret was killed by a car only a few months after she adopted us. Edward was also, a few years later. Ansel, a grown cat by then, would go visiting, we knew not where, disappearing on his daily rounds into the field and woods behind the house, arriving back home a few days later smelling of tuna fish. We suspected he was visiting at an apartment complex nearby. Eventually, his visits lasted longer, and then he did not come home at all. We hope he persuaded the tuna fish provider that he really did not have a home, and is lounging prettily on a sofa somewhere.
Only Freya Diana remains. She is a survivor, not as smart as Edward, who I loved, and whose thinking process I understood. He was curious, kind, and a beautiful person. But, he grew overconfident and ventured to cross the street rather than take his usual underground route through the culvert. Ansel was dumb, but beautiful, sashaying as he walked, and so lazy and tolerant you could drape him over your arm like a scarf and he'd not mind.
FD has an elegant understated beauty, she's almost a calico, but not quite. 
She's wary, and it takes a very, very long time before she trusts someone enough to let them near her. If she wants to be petted or stroked, she flops on the floor in front of one of the few humans she accepts, but usually she flops slightly out of arm's reach. Just being careful, that's all. If you come across her outdoors, though, you will not be able to get close enough to pet her at all. She may reply if you greet her, but in a manner that lets you know that she's working, so please don't bother her. She's at the office, and doesn't mix business with pleasure.
I've learned from FD that wild at heart should be respected, and one should never try to force a wild one to do what a wild one is not inclined to do. She got loose at the vet's once, and moved so fast you could not see her. She turns into a flying, biting, scratching wild creature when cornered for capture. I never do that, and advise all others not to do that either.
I've learned that survival skills protect one, and that being careful is always a good idea. Context is important, and some people behave differently at work than at home. I've learned that it's an honor to be the friend of someone who does not accept just anyone who comes along with a bit of gravy.
Miss Freya Diana is not always an easy creature to live with. I'd never get another house cat. Yes, she's now an indoor/outdoor cat, thanks to midwest winters and cats who come by to attack. I hate to deal with those passerby cats who like to leave their scent postcards on my front, back, and deck doors. But, we have a history together FD and the family, so, I think she's here as long as she chooses to be.
In the reverse sequence of the 20 Posts in 20 Days that I'm plodding along to finish even though the crowds aren't on the sidelines anymore, this one is supposed to be something else. But, if I'm not following the marathon rules on the 20 days, I guess I might as well break another one, even if it's one I set for myself. This is going to be the interview one.
It being after midnight now and there being only two creatures available at this hour for an interview, and the cat refusing to be interviewed, I figure I am forced to interview myself. But, since I like talking to myself anyway, that's OK.
Q: So, Patricia Smith Gundry, how do you like being interviewed?
A: I like it, and it's been awhile since anyone interviewed me, so thanks for the opportunity.
Q: You're welcome. I notice you've added Smith to your name in the title to this post. Why is that?
A: I miss my maiden name, was sorry I lost it when I married. If I were marrying now, I'd keep my own name.
Q: So, why not change it back now?
A: I thought about it, and would like to, but my books have been written under the name Pat Gundry and Patricia Gundry, and there are a LOT of people named Patricia, Pat, or Patsy (everyone called me Patsy until I went to college) Smith, so writing under that name might not be a good idea after all. So, from time to time, I think I'll add my Smith name in the middle. Makes me feel good to see it there.
I always liked Smith, everyone can spell it, and usually remember it, except when they think it's Jones. Nobody can spell Gundry. If only I'd known.
Q: What are you most known for?
A: Being late.
Q: And, in addition to that? Say, internationally?
A: Probably for writing one of the early books in this era on equality for women in the church. In 1977 my first book, Woman Be Free was published by Zondervan Publishing House, and has been in print ever since except for a few months between publishers. It is now published by Suitcase Books.
Q: What else have you written?
A: My husband and I did a compilation of D.L. Moody quotations, with a biographical chapter. He did his doctoral dissertation on Moody's theology. Besides my first book, looking at biblical equality for women, I've written additional books peripheral to the subject, including one on marriage, and compiled a cookbook. I've also written chapters in other books, book reviews, articles, etc. I also do a lot of writing online on my blogs, and on email discussion lists.
Q: Do you have additional books in the works?
A: Yes, several, in fact.
Q: Want to tell us what they are about?
A: No, but I'd love to have a great, kind, generous, honest, respectful and wonderful publisher ask me that question.
Q: How many blogs do you have?
A: More than 25. However, they aren't all completed, nor all public. Some are to replace a couple of web sites I have that I want to shift into blogging hosting at TypePad, one is an extended family history site, one is for photos.
Q: Why so many blogs?
A: I love to make them. It's fun and very satisfying.
Q: Do you write regularly on all of them.
A: No, and that's something I've been trying to figure out--how many can I write for regularly, and which ones should that be--I really don't know. I suppose I'll experiment and see.
Q: Are you also a personal coach?
A: Yes, I have graduate clients who are free to contact me at any time for a session, but who have gotten what they came to coaching for and aren't having regularly scheduled sessions anymore.
I'm not seeking new clients at this time, though I'd not refuse a new client who seems like good match for what I like to do. I'm focusing on my writing projects and on my blogs and not on one on one coaching.
Q: Which is your favorite blog?
A: I'm not sure I can pick a favorite. They are a bit like one's children, they are all my favorites. I think some of the blogs have been neglected though, so I'm wanting to take care of that.
Q: OK, then, what is your quirkiest blog?
A: I suppose it's Cookbookie. I started it so I could write about cookbooks, but most of my search engine traffic comes from people looking for a recipe for Tunis Cake. Who knew so many people were hungry for Tunis Cake?
I'd mentioned Tunis Cake when listing a few recipes from a new cookbook I'd received, and that mention was picked up by the search engines. Since I was getting so many hits for Tunis Cake I emailed the publisher of the cookbook and asked permission to post the recipe on my blog. They said yes, and so now I imagine lots of happy searchers finding it and making Tunis Cake. (They are going to be coming here too, I suppose. Go to Cookbookie and you'll find the recipe.)
Q: What do you hope to accomplish with all these blogs?
A: Mostly, I want to have fun. I enjoy blogging. I have a lot of interest areas, and blogs are a way to play in those interest areas, and help where I can with some of them. Oh, yes, I'd also like to make some money.
Q: Is there big money in blogging?
A: There may be, and if so, I'd like some. Meanwhile, I'd be happy with medium sized money. I'm studying how to do that, make significant money blogging. I may or may not report back on how it works.
Q: Good. We'll look forward to your possible reports.
A: Thank you, and Good Night. The cat is now eager to talk, but I'm not eager to translate. I think she just wants to go outside anyway, and it's way past cheesies time. I'd better go crumble cheese.
Take a look at the CNN news report regarding sleep deprivation being America's number one health problem and tell me I'm a clever one for starting Sleep Nanny, before I even read the report.
Sleep Nanny, the blog, is in its infancy. But, it will grow quickly. Sleep Nanny is not intended to be a problem related blog. It's planned as a resource site, with all sorts of info, sleep coaching tips and how to's, and even nice things to read before you sign off for the night, just right to put you into a relaxed and sleep welcoming state of mind.
This blog is hosted at TypePad.com, where I love to play at blogging. But, TypePad has been sailing some choppy waters recently. You may have visited one of my blogs or sites hosted by TypePad and found there was no there there.
Lots of down time, recently things haven't worked so nicely as they used to, and some worked, but in a wonky way.
I've heard rumblings from other TypePad users to the tune of maybe they'd find other lodgings for their blogs, at least go looking. I can understand that, but I'm not looking, not yet. I've been so happy with TypePad pricing, design features, good clean look, beautiful blogging possibilities, and swift and helpful tech support that I'm willing to ride out the rough water, thinking they've been so good up to now, surely they'll soon be good and stable again.
So, if you try to visit this blog or one of my others and it isn't available, please come back again, and again and again if necessary. Don't give up on it, I't'll be back.
You might have noticed a short gap in my 20 Posts In 20 Days Marathon. Just pretend I took a break for a drink of water--or something--a long drink of water. I find those "I haven't posted in awhile, and here's why" posts boring, so I'll not bore you with one.
But, who says one has to do a marathon all at once? Didn't the rabbit stop and rest under the tree when racing with the tortoise? He still won, didn't he? I've just been resting under the tree, that's it. Now watch me sprint. I've got two more days don't I? Oh, no, I just realized I looked at the calendar wrong. I was thinking in terms of a month to do the marathon. It's 20 days. I think my 20 days are long gone.
What to do? Should I continue? I'm loath to give up. Here I am midway through the race. I can't just slink off into the bushes and pretend I'm only a pedestrian. But, if I continue with the series of posts, can I still call it a marathon? Sure, I can. It's my blog. I can call it anything I want to.
The marathon is still on. Only now that I've already violated the terms, I can go at my own pace. Maybe I'll write a post a day, maybe more, maybe less. I'm stretching, getting ready to sprint for the finish, even if ten days late. At least I'll get sympathy coverage in the media. What media? They've all gone home? Come back! Look, it might be worthwhile.
I live in the finger licking capital of the world. Yes, that's right. 97 percent of the people in my part of this state (which I will not name so that I can safely enter stores again) lick their fingers whenever they encounter anything that could possibly need a bit of traction to move it.
Pages in books, of course. Plastic bags at any store will be definitely be picked up by a finger lickin' cashier and blessed with a bit of his or her saliva before they present it to you, as will be anything made of paper. Money will be counted at the bank by a finger licker whose mouth must be a bacteriologist's petri dish dream. Virologists would be delighted to swab across those dentine surfaces.
A dentist office with several dentists, which I used to patronize, but, thankfully do not anymore, had several clerical workers behind a counter all using three huge books of calendar pages. The corners of the pages were discolored from spit transferrred dirt. I'd stand there and wince as they all licked before turning a page.
It does not matter where the lickers work, or how sanitary it's supposed to be where they work--food industry, or hospital the tongues just keep on licking, and the germs keep right on ticking.
I was raised by an Arkansas momma whose mother was a doctor's daughter from the Southern reaches of the Midwest--or, if true Southerners will allow me to say so (one sniffed "that's not the South" to me once when I said I was from the South) the upper South. My grandma Price was a very clean and sanitary person. She had assisted her father in his doctor's office as a young teenager in the days before antibiotics. She knew what dirtiness and spit could cause. And, her Southerner's manners would never allow for casual finger licking anyway. Very vulgar.
I've called stores to complain about finger licking checkers, been told thank you for pointing it out, and I've even noticed a decline in it for awhile. But, soon the lickers were at it again. I mentioned to a teller at a bank who was licking her way through a stack of one hundred one dollar bills I'd requested that I'd heard money was really dirty. She said, oh yes, for sure, she had to wash her hands several times a day, they'd get black with dirt if she didn't.
I don't understand it. It's a pure reflex for these people. They don't even know they're doing it. Their tongues dart out like a lizard and fingers and thumbs go to their mouths with the reflex action of a two year old world class thumbsucker. If you mention it, they either look uncomprehendingly at you like you must be from Mars, or they look insulted--and you figure they'll find a way to spit even bigger amounts on your stuff if they can.
Mothers, please don't let your children grow up to be finger lickers. It's nasty, it spreads germs, turns people off. And, I used to say, a finger licker can never become President. But, now, I don't know. Maybe they can.
John J. Ratey: Spark: The Revolutionary New Science of Exercise and the Brain
Michael Neill: You Can Have What You Want: Proven Strategies for Inner and Outer Success
Gavin De Becker: Protecting the Gift : Keeping Children and Teenagers Safe (and Parents Sane)
Paul McKenna: Change Your Life in Seven Days : The World's Leading Hypnotist Shows You How
William, Ph.D. Bridges: Transitions: Making Sense of Life's Changes
Steve Andreas: Transforming Your Self: Becoming Who You Want to Be
David Allen: Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity
Bill O'hanlon: Do One Thing Different : Ten Simple Ways to Change Your Life
Scott D. Miller: The Miracle Method: A Radically New Approach to Problem Drinking
Thomas J. Leonard: The Portable Coach : 28 Sure Fire Strategies For Business And Personal Success
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