Five for Friday: Love Songs

I've decided to keep this week's Five for Friday simple. Like a toddler at a parade, I'm going to sit on someone else's shoulders and let them do all the work. But I am going to keep it in the Valentine's theme, and so here are five of my favorite love songs:

1. At Last--the Etta James version. There are no other versions, IMHO. What a beautiful voice, adding its richness to a beautiful song.

2. Time in a Bottle--Jim Croce. This is the song hubby wanted for our wedding. I (stupidly) overruled him and chose something else that I don't really like as much.

3. Kissed You (Good Night)--Gloriana. A new favorite about new love. The story in the video is just heart-wrenching, too.

4. The Way You Look Tonight--I know it was originally by Frank Sinatra, but there are a couple of very talented singers who do this song credit, including Michael Bublé and a real cutie, Harry Connick, Jr.

5. I Need You--Leann Rimes. This was a hard choice. I adore this song and her voice is magical, but I was on #5. Then I realized--I can do five more another time! I can even do themed ones--Five Female Singer Love Songs, Five Classic Love Songs, etc. So, I'm going to let myself enjoy this one.

So there we are--five beautiful love songs for your Valentine's week. Hope you enjoy!

Weekly Check In: A Day Late

Yesterday was a very stressful day in my home, despite good news early on. I got a phone call that brought bad news, news I was used to hearing even last year, but that came as a shock at this time. Everyone is all right, and it did not turn to tragedy, as it could have, but it did keep me from writing when added to all my other stresses in life that are happening right now. But enough about vague laments, on to the good news.

Words: 

I DID IT! I made the word count in the Little Bites Challenge, exceeding by 10% where I needed to be this morning. Yesterday’s day end count (so this morning’s) was supposed to be 3K; my count this week for Quantum Kiss is…3,333. Done by hosting/participating in a few sprints this week to make up for days when I was unable to find time to write in it at all. Not only that, I finally edited Story Prompt #2 and uploaded to my fictionpress account (I have yet to upload to the Wordpress account), as well as (obviously) completing my blog posts for the week.

All of the word count numbers were written yesterday; by the end of today, I need to be at 3,500, so I’m still sitting pretty. Hubby & I don’t go out for Valentine’s Day—too crowded everywhere—so I may get time to write later.

This week’s word count goal is to once more complete the LBC with words to spare. I’d also like to get my blogs written ahead of time, so this sort of thing doesn’t happen again.

Prompt: Love potion #9: You (or a character) have made/stumbled upon a supply. Do you/they use it? If so, on who? How do they react? What are the consequences? Set it whenever, wherever you want.

Vocab word: Buss—to kiss.

Challenge: Write 500 words based on the prompt and use the vocab word.

Weight: 

Yay, me! I exceeded my goal for the week, which was to be 199 point anything. I actually leveled out last week at 200.2 for about three days. I was practically starving and the scale wouldn’t budge. I decided to tweak my metabolism, and for two days, I ate close to the top of my calorie allowance. From the very first day, the scale moved down. I actually was 0.2 pounds less on Tuesday than my Wednesday weigh-in.

Kept the exercise the same, with Sunday off. In fact, hubby and I went out to breakfast Sunday morning, something we used to do every week, but have not done in months as we’ve been losing the weight. We stayed away from the buffet table, sticking with pre-portioned food, and asked about portions (how many eggs, for example). Pancakes and French toast were nowhere on our own personal menus. The breakfast wound up being late in the morning, since we slept in (our only day to really do so usually), and therefore was more of a brunch than a breakfast. We were so full, we didn’t need to eat again until supper time. The only exercise we did get that day was taking a walk down by the restaurant, which is at a fish camp and has a small petting zoo and rescue horses.

Now, next week’s goal is to be 197 point something, which may be difficult considering that Miss Monthly has just showed up, bringing cramps and cravings with her. In fact, I was so stressed yesterday that I wound up turning on the TV and vegging. I rarely just watch unplanned TV anymore—no time. It also lends itself to mindless munching, which I gave in to, very likely exceeding my calorie count for the day on undocumented calories. The other bad part about this time of month is that I really don’t feel like exercising. At all. All I want to do is curl up with the remote control and a half gallon of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream with a bag of pretzels for dipping; maybe some fettuccine alfredo with garlic cheese bread for supper, still curled up on the couch letting my brain rot.

Mysterious Monday--the Power of the Love Stone

I’m sure this week’s theme for Mysterious Monday is not so much a mystery—as Valentine’s Day is closing in on us this week, all our thoughts turn toward our current relationship status. Whether you have a sweetie, are looking for a sweetie, just plain over the whole sweetie thing, or whatever, one thing we all have in common is our need for love. Whether that love comes in the form of romantic love or platonic love, you can quite literally hold the means to get that love in the palm of your hand. Gemstone magic can be that means.

There is a wonderfully beautiful type of stone called rose quartz, aka pink quartz or love stone. Its pink color comes from “impurities” that bleed into the naturally white quartz. The one that I had for many years was tumbled so that it was smooth to the touch. It was cool when I placed it in my hands, warming with the warmth of my body. When life seemed too rough to believe, I would hold this stone in the palm of my hands and close my eyes; gradually, my breathing would slow and positive thoughts would fill my head.

Quartz is a very powerful conductor of energy; rose quartz therefore is a powerful conductor of love energy. It is used for finding love, maintaining love, and helping one to love and forgive oneself. This stone attracts all sorts of love—romantic love, love for children, love of self, friendship, etc. It eases anger and sadness, and can even help you to feel at peace with the world in general, alleviating the stress of all the negativity that bombards us every day. A word of caution—no magic can force a particular “target” to fall in love with you; love stones will attract the one who is right for you, not turn Bobby from his love for Michelle, for example. This would be a negative use of a positive emotion, and could have whiplash negative effects in the long run.

In healing, it is used for healing emotional hurts such as grief or guilt, as well as balancing the flow of blood to cleanse the body of impurities. It has a powerful association with the heart chakra so that it naturally helps to balance body, mind, and spirit. If you’re feeling stress, do as I mentioned above and hold your love stone in your hand. Close your eyes, then breathe in and out slowly a few times; breathe in love and purity in the form of white or yellow or pink light, breathe out negativity in the form of black and darkness. Love stones are not a “cure” however for proper medical care—they help to alleviate symptoms and lower your stress while increasing your blood flow, but for any physical or mental health issues, you should always consult your physician.

There are many ways to use the love stone—it comes in a variety of forms, as well. Tumbled stones are polished with no rough edges and are therefore more comfortable to hold or to use as jewelry, either as a pendant on a necklace or in the form of a bracelet, earrings or a ring. You can keep these stones in your purse or your pocket, in the cup holder of your car or hanging from the rear-view mirror. Keep one in your desk at work if you work an office job or in your locker at school if you’re in school—should you be reading my blog if you’re still in high school? Untumbled love stones are just as powerful but would most often be found in a bowl or just set out somewhere in your home. Many people place them in their bedrooms or in the “heart” of their homes (this can be the physical center or the social center, such as the living room or the kitchen or the dining room). Love stones also come in towers, but they are not as common as the smaller variety and are definitely more expensive. Wherever you keep your stone, keep one close; think of it and hold it daily and see if you see any improvement in your stress levels or love life or both.

Five for Friday—Horses, of Course

I have always loved horses, from the first Walter Farley book I ever got from the library, Little Black, A Pony, and probably even before I could read. I owned every horse book available at the time and begged Dad to drive me to the feed store whenever I’d saved enough to buy the newest Breyer horses, as well as going riding with a couple of my friends who owned horses and taking riding lessons once a week.

Twice, I have had the opportunity to own a horse—both times with no success. The first was when I won a pony in a raffle. I was only seven or eight years old at the time. Mom and Dad said we could not afford all the peripherals—the feed, vet bills, etc. I balled hysterically for days, probably weeks; it still makes me sad to think of it. The second time was years later. We had moved from New Hampshire to North Carolina, then back to Connecticut. My best friend from New Hampshire had to find new homes for her two Arabians—a colt named Munchkin and a filly named Gidget. Janet knew I had a special love in my heart for the skittish, doe-eyed beautiful young mare with the dapple-gray coat. Again, however, I was too young for a job and we were unable to afford the transportation, let alone the upkeep. My heart was officially broken this time. I have never stopped thinking of Gidget, dreaming of the times we would have had together had things only been a bit different. I have never given up hope, either, that one day, I would be able to afford to own a small stable of horses, even as I stand at the top of Age Hill and raise a wary eyebrow at the rock-strewn, slippery slope down to Senior Citizen-ville.

If the stars aligned themselves tomorrow and I was able to run right out and buy a stable and fill it with horses, these are some of the breeds I might choose.

1. Arabian: Well, that’s a gimme. These gorgeous creatures, with their intelligent eyes, wide, flaring nostrils, and barrel chests, were made to be in perfect harmony with their ancestral desert home. Hi-crested necks and proud tails held high are other notable characteristics of this breed. Small, compact, and sturdy, Arabians are part of the breeding history of the famous breed called Thoroughbreds. The Godolphin Arabian, The Darley Arabian, and the Byerley Turk are the most noted sires among racing enthusiasts. While many people admire Thoroughbreds, the first horse that would enter my stable would be an Arabian.

Photo by leilahh courtesy of the Stock Xchang

2. Andalusian: The stunning beauty of this breed could take the breath from the very cells of your body. Every bit as gorgeous as the Arabian, but standing an average of 1½-2 hands taller, this elegant animal was favored by Medieval kings and knights for their strength and courage. Its beauty and naturally high-stepping gait makes this horse the perfect animal for dressage. Andalusians are best known for their long, thick manes and tails, with the tails of show horses often dragging the ground. Andalusian blood can be found in most modern horses, particularly in the United States. I would love to have a pure-blooded Andalusian in my stable.

3. Pinto: The first Pinto I can ever remember seeing was owned by the parents of Bobby Law, who lived just up the road apiece from my childhood home in New Hampshire. Bobby’s horse was black and white, but these patchwork quilt horses come in many shades. While Pintos are recognized as a breed, their unique colorings can sometimes be found in other breeds. Two famous examples are Misty of Chincoteague, a pony, and Hidalgo, made famous for the movie of the same name starring Viggo Mortensen, in which this brave horse raced against many others, including my favorite in the number one spot, at the close of the Wild West era.

4. Quarter Horse: One of a few iconic American horses, this breed can trace its origins to Andalusians and Arabians, both. Most often seen in rodeos, running figure eights between barrels or helping cowboys round up “wayward” calves, this breed is best known for its ability to put on short burts of speed. There are even races—a quarter of a mile long—for these animals to show off their prowess.

 5.Mustang: Some would consider this horse to be the “mutt” of the horse world; so how could any red-blooded American not love this animal? Just as our forefathers were “kicked out of every good country” in the world (to quote Bill Murray from Stripes), the forefathers of the Mustang escaped from paddocks and stables all over the New World to breed with local horses. For a time, there were so many of these wild horses that ranchers hunted them almost to extinction in order to save the grazing land for their own livestock. I would love to have one of these in my stable, ironically, because of their wild background; well, maybe I’d just give them my land to roam on instead.

So there, at long last (it literally took me all day to simply type this up from my written draft) is my “dream stable”, an eclectic mix of beauty, grace, and strength of both body and spirit. Have a great week-end. See you all Monday for yet another mystery of this world.

Wednesday Check In

Words:

Not a banner week for the Quantum Kiss word count, although I did get over half—987 to be exact. If you count the blog entries for the past week, I’m over the 1750 weekly goal, but I’m not doing that, so…DUCK! Here come the excuses. 

I did well on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of last week. Saturday came and I went to my RWA meeting. Perfect time to write—yes? No. The meeting was very interesting and informative and made my teen green with envy. The theme was “What’s Your Heroine Packin’?” and there were pistols lined up, sans ammo, on a side table. To my teen, it looked like a smorgasbord to a starving man. Not that I took pictures. Not that I then texted those pictures to him. **whistles innocently** At any rate, side-stepping the issue of if I was a mean mom or not, the meeting ran late, as we are apparently a blood-thirsty little group and were utterly fascinated with the talk. We arrived back from lunch late and, unfortunately, left the gaff tape for our mouths in our cars. But I do only see these girls once a month and it’s nice to chat with someone who understands about your “little novel”. 

I did manage to write a bit on Saturday night and again on Sunday, but was busy putting together Monday’s blog, as well as writing an article that I hope will be accepted by my local RWA chapter’s monthly newsletter, an article on what I like to call the “Little Bites Challenge” (the girls in my group preferred the “Elephant Challenge” & you’ll soon see why. Excuses for Monday and Tuesday run the gamut from “busy” to “migraine”, so I won’t bore you with the details. But I would like to invite you all to join in the Little Bites Challenge. Here's the article, explaining the challenge.

Writing a novel sounds like such a wonderful idea; until you sit down to do it. Then you realize that writing a novel is actually a lot of work. You have to create people and breathe life into them; you have to create worlds, sometimes even new governments and social structures and planets and transportation systems. In a sense, you are playing God. And while God’s gig sounds like a hoot, any parent will tell you that kids take work, and most of us feel very parental emotions toward our characters. You are also creating a home for your “children” and homeowners will tell you that keeping a home chaos-free is also a full-time job. So how does one tackle such an enormous (and sometimes frustrating) new “family”? One day at a time. One moment at a time; crisis by crisis. As one of the girls in my local RWA explained it:

 Q: How do you eat an elephant? 

A: One bite at a time. 

Thus was born the Elephant Challenge. The Elephant Challenge is fairly simple. You write. Every day that you can, but averaging 250 words per day. Do you know how long it takes to write 250 words? Well, that varies from writer to writer, from muse to muse, and all depends on the writer’s ability to fend off their inner editor to make things “just so”. When my muse is sitting in my lap or hanging over my shoulder giving me encouragement, it can take me only about twenty minutes to type up 250 words (which is approximately one page, depending on font, size, and line spacing). When Miss Muse is on vacay, 250 words can be as painful as having a loose tooth removed the old-fashioned way. However, 250 words, when you say it, sounds so much smaller than EIGHTY THOUSAND, which seems to be the average size of a novel, based on popular consensus. Somewhere around the middle of this paragraph, I had 250 words written in this post. Took me about 15 minutes, despite arguing teen and pre-teen in the background. 

Want to participate? Awesome! The more, the merrier. All you do is sit down and write. BICHOK (Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard) as our chapter president says. I wrote 250 words last night longhand, because I was tired and when I’m tired, I tend to play on the internet until it’s time for bed, at least if my computer is on. You can write any way you want to, so long as it moved your novel forward. If you like, you can throw your blogs or articles in your count, but personally, since I am the self-proclaimed Queen of the Unfinished Manuscript, I am going to work on one of those, my sci-fi romance, Quantum Kiss. Currently, I am just over eighteen thousand words in. I am keeping track on an Excel spreadsheet I made up. There are other ways—some people just write their number on a calendar, others use word count trackers, like this one by Svenja Liv (insert link here), some use a small calendar and color in the date when they reach their goal.

Last but not least, you do not have to write 250 words every day—you can write 500 one day if you have a day when you can’t do any writing; the main thing is that you average 250 words/day. Comment here each week for encouragement and virtual cookies (no fat or calories, loaded with flavor!).

Obviously, I failed this week. But next week is another week.

Writing Prompt: You are the first English woman (or man) to see the shores of America. Describe the scene and your feelings.

Vocabulary word: apprehension--fear or anxiety, particularly of the future.

Challenge: Write 500 words on the prompt, using the vocabulary word.

Weight:

One place I did not fail is with the weight. This week’s scale:

This one was a tough battle the past couple of days, as I was naughty for most of last week and gained back a pound and a half. I have now added to my sit-ups and push-ups, as well as adding donkey kicks and butterfly stretches to the routine. Tuesday, I stayed in push-up position for a full minute (oh, I was shaking for the last 20 seconds or so, but I did it).

I’ve been thinking recently about how we measure weight loss. Of course, there is the mighty god, Scale, to whom I have paid homage every day for the past few months. There are measurements taken with a tape measure, and the recently popular BMI and BMR. But what’s been encouraging me is the fit of my clothes, the way I feel, and the comments people make. You saw the pic of the skort last week, the one that used to be tight on me. Now here’s my skinny jeans, the ones I used to not even be able to get over my hips:

Lying down last night, I ran my hands over my stomach and where it used to feel all mushy and blobby and just plain fat, now it felt flat. It is by no means gone yet, but it was nice to have it feel firm. Speaking of which, hubby said that my breasts are firmer and smaller, that he can see where I’m losing weight all over—that it shows in my face, my arms, my thighs, as well as my stomach and breasts. He’s not complaining about the smaller breasts—I have a long way to go to not be considered well endowed. Not only that, my youngest boy made a comment out of the blue yesterday that he was glad I was losing weight, that I was pretty before, but even prettier now.

When I first started losing this weight, I could not bend over to put on socks or shoes; I had to sit and pull my foot up to rest it on my opposite knee. I could not bend to dry my legs after my shower (well, I could but with difficulty). The first sit-ups and push-ups were only two or three, have a nice day (no reps). Each day I feel better and better, and am more interested in the food choices that I have—stir fry has become my friend, as has this wonderful new lunch product that I’ve found from Healthy Choice. Healthy Choice is the only brand of frozen “diet” dinners that I can stand the taste of, but for only 88 cents apiece, I am going to try some Michelina’s that I just found as well. The Healthy Choice lunch meals that I found are under $2 apiece at Wal-Mart. Here’s the one I had the other day for lunch:

Yum, right? That, with a small snack a couple hours later, kept me from having a rumbly tummy, and these sorts of meals are keeping my tummy from becoming even more rotund. I totally thank my Gateworld friends who encouraged me to buy tickets to Chicon, and Kavan Smith, as well, for being the catalyst (don’t want to look FAT in those once-in-a-lifetime photos), but every day that I practically walk out of my jeans, every day that I can bend to pick up something from the ground, every day that I can slip my arms around my wonderful hubby—those are what keep me going.

Mysterious Monday: The Zombie Apocolypse

All of a sudden this past week, my Little Bear (henceforth known as LB, ‘cause I’m lazy and don’t feel like typing it every time) has been preparing, along with his new best friend, for the dreaded Zombie Apocolypse. Unless you live under a rock somewhere or are without internet (which would beg the question of how you are reading this), you know about zombies.

"Zombie Night" courtesy of Kittisak
Found on FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Zombies (by modern, Hollywood definition) are dead, re-animated human corpses. They eat the flesh of other humans to survive and apparently living human brains are a delicacy. Zombies used to be relegated to bad sci-fi movies (there’s a reason they call them “B” movies) shown on smaller, independent television stations in the wee small hours of the morning—filler, basically. If I haven’t mentioned it before, there’s a part of me that misses the good ol’ days, when television stations reminded you that it was bedtime by flying the American flag before signing off (I know this wasn’t their reasoning, but still…).

These days, zombies are everywhere—movies, books, video games; they are becoming as popular as vampires and werewolves. If you can believe this, there’s even zombie romance. Zombie romance! How desperate do you have to be to fall for a dead, rotting corpse that really is after you for your brain? Given my druthers, I’d druther be alone. What if something falls off while you’re hot and heavy in the midst of in flagrante dilecto? I mean, just, EWWWW! Zombies are bad enough when they’re trying to kill you; I don’t need to think about them trying to do other stuff.

Now, to get back to my L.B. and his belief that the zombie apocalypse is upon us. Don’t know where the idea got into his (otherwise intelligent) brain, but there it is. Was it the video game that his father, brother, and brother’s best friend seem to be addicted to? Was it the internet in all its BS-filled glory? Was it television or the other idjits at his middle school? (Don’t take offense—I believe all middle schoolers are idjits to some extent—I was an honor roll student; I was still an idjit at the time.)

In the end, it doesn’t matter where L.B. got the idea; he and his friend have been preparing. They have been running “drills” for escaping over walls and making lists of the supplies they will need. L.B. asked me to drive him to Home Depot yesterday so he could waste his allowance on rope and such. When I told him that I did not have the time, he wanted to ride his bike there. I put my foot down. He claims that this is real, that the government has done experiments to make zombies. I believe a lot of not-so-shiny things about our government. I believe they probably even tried to make zombies. I do not believe that some rejects from the experiment are going to break out and kill us all. (Although, in light of the gun-control legislation they’re trying to pass, they might just be out to get us. Make zombies. Ban assault weapons. Zombie buffet. Hmmm…)

Later this morning, I will share some of what I learned about actual zombification with L.B. Hollywood zombies—the ones who are going to kill us all—bear no resemblance to the actual thing. In real life, zombies can only be made by a voodoo priest, for example. You cannot become a zombie by being bitten by a zombie (that’s werewolves, y’all). Nor can you, as the commercial shows, become a zombie when the power goes out and you drink bad milk (love that commercial J). Most often, zombies are not even dead, but, like Shakespeare’s Juliet, are in a paralytic state that is very close to death, often brought on by using the poison of a blowfish. Zombies are not capable of functioning on their own, without a master—given that information, I would think that if you kill the master, you kill the magic that created the zombie, thereby destroying the zombie and freeing the victim. I may be wrong, but that makes sense to me (if anything about zombies can make sense).

So, what do you think of the zombie craze? And are you ready for the zombie apocalypse?

Five for Friday: Nothing to fear…

So we were chatting about some of our fears on Gateworld yesterday—fears of heights, of falling, of landing, etc, and my pre-teen also came home spouting off about how zombies were real and he and a friend were going to prepare for the coming zombie apocalypse. He was serious. So I thought that I would do today’s Five for Friday on fears.

Five of my top fears, in no particular order, are:

1. Heights—hate them, hate them, hate them. Oddly, while I cannot climb ladders, nor peek out the windows of high hotel rooms, I have no problem with rock climbing or flying in planes. Now, jumping out of said plane would not happen, not even onto the slide thingy if we had a water landing; someone would have to push me. The vertigo I get from even getting near the edge of an overhang is nauseating. Oddly, I used to hike mountains at every possible chance. Our local one was called Sleeping Giant because it looked like, well, a sleeping giant from a distance. At the top is a two story rock "castle", with open views and stairways. I can and have always been able to climb those steps and lean over or sit on the walls at the top to enjoy the views.

My boy at the castle, trying to freak me out.

View from the castle on Sleeping Giant. East(?) Rock and the city of New Haven in the distance.

2. Bugs—I know it’s not technically right, but I lump spiders in with bugs. They’re all just gross and disgusting and have all those feelers and all those extra legs and…**shudder** They’re just gross. Remember the cockroach? Click the link if you're new to my blog or need a reminder. And I once killed a spider and all these baby spiders came spilling out of the torso. It was like some horror movie. Ewww…

3. Bodily injury—any and all. Now, oddly, when I had to have a cyst removed from my arm, I had no problem watching the whole procedure. But the idea of losing a digit or an appendage or an eye or anything… YUCK! That was my main fear after Jaws came out—that one day I’d be swimming in Long Island Sound and a shark would attack and tear off my leg. And the idea of becoming something’s dinner in the process of that bodily injury is another squick for me. I have NO desire to become part of the circle of life.

The last two are a lot more personal and serious and very likely should be the top two.

4. Major injury or death of one of my children. All their talk of joining the military scares the Hell out of me, I admit it. But at the same time, I’m so very proud of them. That does not take away the fear of one day having the men in their dress uniforms show up on my door. I remember one time, when I was working at a restaurant, we heard a horrible crash. We rushed out to find that an SUV had gone through a couple of concrete signposts. Inside the SUV was a child about my oldest boy’s age, wearing a Little League uniform. My oldest also played Little League. This boy had a compound fracture and I was, I admit it, more than a bit shaken. To have this child so horribly injured that he might lose his leg or even his life, and to have him be so “familiar” was terrifying. I never did find out what happened to the boy and can only hope that the quick reactions of my fellow workers and I (I was freaking, not immobile) helped in some small way.

5. Alzheimer’s. Mom has it. She is worse every time we talk. She freaks out over nothing one minute and can’t remember her reaction the next. She is making my father’s life a living Hell and doesn't even know it. I am terrified of getting it myself one day. Her father had it and now she does; however, her other siblings show no signs, and the two boys are older than she is. To be fair, the oldest may be having issues, but I have not been a very good niece, and have let life get in the way of keeping in touch with long-distance loved ones. At any rate, I have already told my boys that if I become like my mother, I am to be brought to a home or quietly dispatched so I do not ruin others’ lives. I feel so horrible for my mom, because she is no longer Mary, and she would be appalled if she knew this was how she was behaving. I also live in fear that she will hurt my father one night and never even realize it, or that he will need medical help and she will not remember that he needs the help or how to dial the phone for 9-1-1. I have many people reassure me that I am utterly different from my mother--I get out and socialize, as well as working, chatting on the internet and being generally busy with activities between my local RWA and my boys. I play online games from Lumosity, but I sometimes wonder if I'm fooling myself with them, as my mother does with her crossword puzzle books ("That's how I'm fighting this thing. Keeping my brain active."); she's losing the battle in a bad way and it's terrifying.