Lately I have been reading books with advice for writing fiction. Most of them suggest writing about something you know, like your life for instance. The books say our personal experiences can provide for great stories that lead into fiction, or for me a novel.

Great! I have plenty of exciting personal experiences!

But wait!

The words of wisdom from these books on writing fiction say not to actually write about your life because your life has no plot, and a good book needs a plot. Hmmm.

But there are so many good stories...

Like rolling my suitcases down the streets of Washington D.C. to try and find my hotel for a leadership conference I was attending. I thought the bus would let me off at the hotel, only to find out from the unsympathetic lady behind the counter at the bus stop that I would have to find my way to the hotel by myself. Which I did, evn though I was only sixteen, from a town of less than 200 people, alone, strolling through the streets of Washington D.C. and not the good side of town.

Ok. No plot. But there is a little drama.

Then there was the time in Alaska when I couldn't get the 1980 diesel Oldsmobile- Stella- started at the gas pump in Anchorage. Some extremely nice girl came to my rescue and helped me push the car off to the side. Only in the process of moving the car I put the car in neutral and shut the door. I quickly remembered when you put the car in neutral, or any gear, the doors automatically locked. That was bad. But the nice girl found a nice guy who was able to unlock my car.

No plot again, but there was drama and a very happy ending.

My driving record is a completely other post, but there again, no plot.

I guess all this means is the plot will be left up to my imagination. With the personal experiences I have had, I'm sure I can come up with an interesting plot.

One cap too many

Our house is filled with caps.

Sports caps, work caps, dark caps, light caps.

I don't know where they all come from. I believe some of them spontaneously appear out of the sky. Maybe the dog brings them home.

I don't know.

We don't have any squirrels around that could be the culprits, and no mice right now either.

I would like to blame my husband for all of the caps around here, and although a majority of them are his, I have to admit that some of them are mine.

But which ones to give away. I can't part with my Jimmy Buffett hat and my new University of Wyoming visor is not going anywhere. I have a brand new Rocky Mountain Elks Foundation hat with "Committee" embroidered on the back, and I have to keep it around until after the banquet where I will probably gain another one, besides I like this one.

I have a hat to wear in case we need to paint around the house. There's my orange cap I like to wear when I'm hiking in the fall; the color is perfect to warn hunters that I am not a member of any family they would like to shoot.

Another orange one from Humpy's Ale House in Anchorage, Alaska. Far too many memories to send this one out.

A sky blue Ducks Unlimited hat, it's a nice color and sporty looking, why let this one go?

Who could get rid of a Wind River White Water Rafting hat?

So, for now, I'll keep them around. Not everyone can say they have one cap too many.

A Disney ride home strikes me down

An excellent time away from home enjoying friends and family, while discovering new places, is the best way to describe the recent holidays.

I felt relaxed to be away from all of the happenings of normal daily life. My children were surrounded by constant playmates, and they had fun. I didn't have to cook unless I wanted to, I didn't have to do dishes unless I wanted to (and of course I did to keep peace in the family since we were all staying together); I could read all I wanted, and I did as I gazed out of our room overlooking the sound. Ahhh. A well deserved vacation...and then we took the plane ride home.

When the airline called for anyone with small children to board the plane early, a majority of the crowd started to head towards the gate. The thought that I could not keep from running through my mind went, "At least my child will not be the only one making noise or screaming on the plane." No one would be able to blame all the noise on my family in row 19. We wouldn't be the only ones receiving nasty glances from the people trying to sleep or enjoy their books or just wanting a peaceful trip to where-ever they were going. No, this would be a noisy plane ride. I didn't plan to sleep anyway.

As we began to board someone said, "Is this the flight to Disneyland or what?". Pretty darn close.

One baby cried the whole way. I felt bad for those parents, trying to juggle a newborn and two toddlers. The little boy behind us peeked between the seats to try and see the movie we put on the computer, until the battery died. Other kids screamed and made distracting noises or played with loud video games, making for a regular nursery right on the plane.

My little boy dropped fruit snacks in the seat and I, unknowing, sat in them; which then caused the snacks to melt on the seat and my pants. Between my kids and all the others on the plane eating snacks and ripping up magazines, I'm sure the plane had more than an extra bag of trash scattered about the cabin and stuffed into interesting places. I felt bad for the people who had to clean up that plane.

Despite the fact that we did not land at Disneyland, all children and parents on the plane were ready to get off and get on with their journeys.

However, like a nursery, a germ was passed around, I'm sure. We came home and were sick for over a week- leaving my blog neglected and New Year's resolutions unthought-of.

At least I didn't have to clean up that plane!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kossy/ / CC BY 2.0
'>Photo by Kossy(at)FINEDAYS via Flickr.com