Peggy Chambers "Views from the Hammock" site

   EXPLORING ENID’S TRAILS:  My hometown is in the middle of a revival.  I don’t mean an old fashioned tent revival with tambourines and things but a renaissance.  We are building a multi-million dollar convention center with the hopes that it will bring in conventions and entertainment like a large city.  We are “de-malling” our mall and I am unsure what that even means except that it will chop the existing mall into pieces and make an open-air market.  Every day the newspaper is filled with stories about building a new hotel by the convention center, and  a downtown tower might be converted to a hotel.  I don’t know if that will happen but that’s the word on the street.

The one thing that has been done lately is to improve Enid’s parks.  I worked for the local Parks Department years ago when my children were small by managing the local Olympic sized pool.  I had fourteen lifeguards and a limit of 400 bathers a day during the summer months and it was a monumental job sometimes.  But, I’m rambling.  I was discussing the parks.  In addition to the parks Enid is creating a series of fitness trails for running, walking and/or biking.  They are increasing steadily and I recently took my little city dog for a walk on one of the trails.  She loved it.  I know this because she almost pulled my arm off, even more than she normally does in our own neighborhood.  The area we walked in follows the banks of the drainage ditch that flows through town; our version of the Mississippi River.  Yards back up to this bank and you are ultimately walking down a concrete alleyway meeting people all along the way.  Vegetable gardens are also popping up outside of fences along these very wide banks too and give the area a very urban yet rural feel.

There are a few problems though – the biggest of which is PEOPLE WHO DON’T CLEAN UP AFTER THEIR ANIMALS (sorry, I’ll calm down now).  I think you get the visual so enough said.  My dog also got sandburs because she couldn’t stay on the concrete, but maybe a little weed killer would take care of that problem.  Once I got the stickers out of her dainty paws however, we still had a good walk.

I am pleased to see that Enid is trying to revive itself.  We are not a large town, nor do we want to be, but we still want to be vibrant and strive for improvement.  I hope it is a renaissance of spirit, not just construction for the town of Enid.

  I’ve taken up another new genre, again.  I’ve never been able to choose and stick with one type of writing.  I don’t know why, maybe because I read everything, I feel inclined to write everything. I love murder mysteries, horror, fantasy, dark comedies – and children’s books.  Hmmmm, I’m conflicted.

I’ve always loved to write. But, there were many years when I was working, going to school and raising kids I didn’t have time.  I hardly had time to brush my teeth some days.  When my parents became ill I wrote for therapy.  Getting feelings down on paper and then reading them later helped me see things from a different perspective.

When I became a grandmother I wrote for my favorite child to make us both happy.   The little light of my life loved his grandma’s books.  He even told his friends that his grandma wrote books – the cool kind with wizards and stuff.  Sniff!  After I picked my melted heart up off the floor, I wrote more of them!  He was my best critic.  I even named a main character after him.  Then he outgrew me.

I’ve written mostly fantasy and children’s books but, lately I’ve been writing women’s literature.  After all, I’m a woman.  My latest project is a novel about a woman who lives alone in a broken down beach house and sells vegetables at her produce stand for a living.  But she is not what she appears to be – a semi recluse who avoids the world.  The story takes a lot of twists and turns (has a little sex and violence thrown in for good measure) and hopefully keeps the reader guessing.  It’s a story of mature love, but more than a romance novel.

I hope my “next big thing” will be finished this spring.  I keep thinking of ideas and it grows daily, so it may never be finished but, it is a labor of love.

Now that I feel the need to write for myself, maybe I will eventually be able to settle on a genre but, the prospect doesn’t look promising.  My interests are too varied.  Writing for me doesn’t guarantee a fan base or book sales but it does guarantee a soul with a purpose.  Maybe it will be good enough for both.

   I had a milestone birthday yesterday – something VERY new (or old). My wonderful husband and kids had a reception at the house after we had lunch together.  I had no idea I had so many friends and I don’t know how to thank them enough.

Right after the birthday this week is Valentine’s Day.  It isn’t new – we celebrate it every year.  It’s all about chocolate – or is it love?  I can’t remember.  Anyway, they’re the same thing, aren’t they?  Just another excuse for a calorie loaded holiday or maybe a candlelight dinner for two with your sweetie.

There was one Valentine’s Day, however, where the term “new” took on a completely different meaning.  The best Valentine I was ever given came a few days after.  I was twenty years old – too old to play with dolls and much too young to be a mother.  But, nine days after cupid arrived, my first child came into the world.  She was a delicate pink rosebud with skin as soft as the petals of a rose.

I was scared, clueless, and sick for nine months.  My body rebelled at the idea of another life inside of me.  I even had morning sickness the day she was born. The house was cold and drafty and there was no money for extravagances but, we were a family.

I was totally unprepared to be a parent but even more unprepared for the love I was about to receive.  She was our world.  Ah the dreams of a first-time mother.  She was a tiny unwritten life just waiting to be molded.  She was perfect.  Life would be perfect.

Then reality set in quickly with projectile vomiting, disgusting diapers and late night feedings.  I had no idea nursing could be so painful sometimes.  And then she learned to smile and coo and the messy diapers were forgotten.

Love comes in many forms.  The love you feel for your boyfriend who becomes your husband is different than the love you feel for your children or your parents.  Love makes you put up with things from your children that you would never put up with from anyone else – not even their dad.   Even nasty diapers could be tollerable – if the child was mine.  Someone else’s child was another story.

Life goes along, messes are cleaned, and love evolves into something much deeper. Reality.  When the second child – who is loved just as much – comes along it is treated differently than the first.  You just don’t have the time to gaze at its tiny fingers and make plans for its new and perfect life. It has to fend for itself a little.

My second child came along four years later in the heat of summer.  Now there would be two; a pink rose of spring, and a hot firecracker of summer.  Both very different but no less loved.  They are and always will be the two loves of my life.

Happy Valentine’s Day to you and your loves.