Nativity Play

Kids Nativity Play

I'm making a new Oma Kit. It contains everything necessary for the grandkids to act out the first Christmas at the family Christmas party: a simple nativity script in rhyme, no-sew costumes, easy-to-store props and scenery. (It all fits in a $7.00 Rubbermaid box from Target.) Here my how-to for a children's nativity play.

I've assigned the kids their parts ahead of time. At the party, while a couple of moms help them get their costumes on, the adults are divided into two groups—choir and scenery.

Kids are the stars of Christmas

The Nativity Scenery Committee gets a tri-fold display board (it's like three sides of a cardboard box, navy blue, and I got it at Michael's Crafts for $8.00) plus a baggie full of star-shaped foam stickers. (I got three bags of 30 multi-colored, multi-sized stars for $2.00 each and picked out the yellow ones.) The committee will stick on the stars to make scenery that looks like a night sky. Two of the scenery people will hold up the scenery during the play.

The Impromptu Nativity Choir will practice singing Away in a Manger and Silent Night.

Shepherd costumes for one, or a whole herd.

No-sew nativity costumes: At the fabric store I searched for very cheap remnants. I got a couple of yards of several different fabrics (a black and white cow print, gray fuzzy wool, white terry cloth, light blue silky something, tan jersey knit, striped drapery stuff, etc.) I've cut the material into 45"x 45" squares (roughly, depending on the width) and then cut a hole in the middle for a head. Everyone will just slip them on like a cape, and tie them around the waist with a length of rope. Or they can be draped over their heads and shoulders like a shawl.

Because of a great deal on cow fabric, I asked if any little kid wanted to be a cow. Now we also have a camel, a donkey and two lambs in the cast!

We're short on short people in our group, so a few adults will take some extra roles. From year to year we could add or subtract animals, shepherds, angels, wise men and shift around the speaking parts. Hopefully the kids full-length costumes can be adapted to a shawl or shoulder drape on a bigger actor.

Left over strips of material are for head coverings and ties to hold them on. Mary will wear a silk scarf draped over her head. I twisted some gold pipe-cleaners together and made a halo for the angel. She will wear white and carry a star, made by gluing a large yellow foam star to a dowel.

All illustrations by Wendy Edelson from One Baby Jesus.

Props include some fake jeweled pins, two boxes wrapped in gold and silver foil, an empty perfume bottle, a broom-stick for a staff, a few stuffed animals (lambs, a camel, and a cow) and a doll. This year we have a real baby, so I'm bringing a fleece to cover his car-seat for the manger.

So, when everybody's dressed and standing in their places, with the artistic scenery behind them, we're ready. I wrote the lines in rhyme so they're easy to remember; no rehearsal necessary. (Please feel free to use or adapt my poem for your own nativity play.)

Short and Sweet Nativity Script

(Choir sings "Away in a Manger" to set the mood.)

• Joseph: My name is Joseph. I've been walking all day. In Bethlehem I hope there's a place to stay.

• Mary: My name is Mary. I'm tired and worn. I need a place for my babe to be born.

• Donkey: I carried Mary until she could lie down. There is no room in this whole town.

• Innkeeper: No, no. I haven't a place. In the back with the animals there's some space.
  

• Camel: We have a place where it's safe and sound, with loving animals all around. "Can my baby sleep there?" Mary said.

• Cow: Let my manger be his bed.

• Baby Jesus: (Sleeps peacefully.)

• Shepherd 1: I am a shepherd watching my sheep. I think I hear singing in my sleep.

• Shepherd 2: There's an angel above us. I'm filled with fear. But peace is the message that I hear.
  

• Angel: Jesus is born today. He's sleeping in a bed of hay.

• Lamb 1: Let's follow the star.

• Lamb 2: It's not very far.

• Wise Man 1: I'm a king from far away. I've looked forward to this day.

• Wise Man 2: In the east a star shone bright, on that sacred, holy night.

• Wise Man 3: Gifts of love we all can bring to worship Jesus Christ, our king.

• Reader: The Bible tells the story like this: (Reads Luke 2:1-16.)

Choir sings Silent Night.

"Sleep in heavenly peace."

Give a Merry Christmas

Illustration from The Truth About Santa Claus

Some people are just naturally merry.

Take Santa Claus, for instance. Can you imagine him complaining about the cold or feeling sorry for himself because he works 24/7? He is a "jolly, happy soul" whose main goal in life is to make us smile. He's the ultimate optimist.

There are "those who always live life as if it were filled with bright lights, beautiful music, happy children, exciting adventure and endless promise." Don Gale wrote this about optimists. "They make life better just by being part of it. They enjoy people, places and things. Their enthusiasm is contagious."

Don says, "You have undoubtedly met these individuals—the woman who brightens a room when she enters, not because of her appearance but because of her attitude, her smile or her friendliness—the man who stops you on the street, asks about your family, remembers something you said two weeks ago . . . The greatest gift anyone can give another is a positive attitude, a smile and genuine interest.

"Like all human behavior, optimism is learned. No one is born with it or without it. You learn it. You practice it. You try it out until it becomes a habit. And then you can't imagine behaving any other way . . ."

Don's advice: "Begin with a smile. Take a real interest in what others are thinking, saying, and doing. Get outside yourself. You can (and do) change everyone with whom you come in contact. The question is whether you add to or subtract from the day's experience."

Is there an optimist that makes your life better? What do they do to influence you?

Santa has some happy characteristics. He winks a lot. He smiles, laughs and eats cookies. But the main thing is this: he thinks of others, and forgets himself. That must be the secret of giving a Merry Christmas.

Have You Ever Felt Like This?

Chloë

She's eight. Her blog is one of my daily reads, and I think I'm her one daily reader. A recent post said:

Hi. Here's a little weather report. It just rained so outside is wet. And it's also a titch windy. I have NO idea how many degrees it is, so, there's the weather report for you.

You can see why I'm a fan. I was gone for a few days and didn't attend to my commenting duties. When I got home I had an email waiting, all in caps, decorated with blinking frowny faces:

"IS ANYBODY EVEN READING MY BLOG?????????"

(It's so awesome to be missed.)

Time-TravelinOma

Birthday Girl

My grandma often told me about a day when she was just six years old. Her brother, who was eight, was babysitting her, and she fell and cut her head open. Terrified by all the blood, she begged him to go get the church ward teachers to give her a blessing.

Without a phone, and afraid to leave her, Great-uncle George decided he'd have to manage on his own. He got out the sewing machine oil, and consecrated it the way he'd seen Priesthood holders do.

He said a prayer, and explained to the Lord that although he was only a little boy, he had the faith of a grown man, and hoped his prayer would be accepted. He then laid his hands on Grama's head using the oil, and blessed her. The bleeding stopped.

That kind of faith was a tradition in my family. I was taught that our Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers, even those of little children.

Agnes Matilda was born 119 years ago, December 1, 1890, in Salt Lake City. Her mother Tilda and her father Anders Peter had immigrated from Sweden just before Agnes was born. They lived on Regent Street, in an apartment above a tailor shop.

When she was six weeks old, they moved to Quince Street, and later to Grape Street, a neighborhood of hills called the Marmalade District. One day Tilda was strolling Agnes in the baby carriage. She stopped at the top of the street to visit with a friend, and the buggy started rolling. It careened down the hill, gaining speed with both Tilda and the baby screaming for each other. As Grama told it, "A China-man, in white pajamas with a long black pig-tail, ran down the street after me and caught hold of the carriage just before I went off the curb. He likely saved my life!"

Agnes had two little brothers who died, so the family consisted of George and Agnes and their parents. They moved to Social Hall Avenue, right downtown, where Tilda organized a boarding house for Swedish people. Anders Peter was a carpenter, furniture maker, and violin craftsman. When the church called for skilled tradesmen for work on the Salt Lake Temple, Anders responded and helped do finish carpentry in the temple. He worked on the beautiful curved staircases, and did intricate carving on the elegant doors.

Anders divorced Tilda and left his family when Agnes was eight years of age. Though the parents couldn't seem to live together as husband and wife, they remained friends for the rest of their lives.

Two teenage brothers from Sweden, Gus and Axel, moved into the boarding house when Agnes was just thirteen. Axel was smitten. Agnes had grand plans to go to college and become a nurse, and was not interested in romance, although she was willing to become Axel's tutor. Axel learned English, and all about the Latter-day Saints. He realized he'd need to become a Mormon for Agnes to see him as a serious candidate for husband. As they became more familiar with the teachings and lifestyle, both he and his older brother joined the Church.

Grandma and Grandpa as newlyweds

It seems there were two romances blossoming: Agnes and Axel, and Tilda and Gus (who was 20 years younger than his sweetheart!) Both couples got married within a few weeks of each other. So Gus was Axel's brother and his father-in-law, and Agnes married her brother-in-law and step-uncle. (The confusion is part of the charm.)

When Agnes and her brother George were grown with their own families, it was routine for Grandma Tilda to attend family parties with her new husband Gus, and her old husband Anders. They often arrived together as a three-some! When Tilda lay dying at a party on Christmas Eve, Uncle Gus played host, while Grampa Anders tended to Tilda's needs and sat by her side, holding her hand. The children saw it all as normal.

When we walked through her apple orchard holding hands, she linked me to the past and pushed me toward the future. I was happy to follow her in both directions.

Happy Birthday, Grama! You were my first history lesson, and I loved it.

Grama and Grampa Old
(probably about our ages)

School Days Orientation

TravelinOma's School Days
A unique, free, course of study offered each day of the week
with my website as the virtual campus.

Daily Classes:
Mondays: Write Away
Tuesdays: Travel Studies

Wednesdays: Book Shelf
Thursdays: Family Matters
Fridays: School of Thought

When and Where?

Right here (at TravelinOma.blogspot.com)
A Post will be available by 8:am each morning
Monday, August 31st—Friday, November 20th

How Do I Sign Up?

Join anytime by leaving a comment on my blog.
(All School Days posts are available by clicking the button on the sidebar.)
Class participation (comments) and homework assignments optional.

See You In Class!

From the Archives: George Bailey Award

Something Wonderful

Remember George? He's the hero in It's a Wonderful Life. His life has gone awry and he decides to end it all by jumping off a bridge. Clarence, his guardian angel, dives in to save him and then tries to convince George that he has contributed something valuable to the world. As the angel relates his good deeds, George begins to see that his life has made a difference.

When our kids were still at home we had a Christmas tradition we called the George Bailey Award. Together we decided on someone who had made a big difference in our life during the year. There were always several nominations before we decided on the recipient. Each of us wrote a personal letter to the person, which we delivered along with a copy of the movie. Throughout the year we would comment on how so-and-so should get the award; it helped us recognize and appreciate the great people around us.

One of many people I could give a George Bailey Award to is LaMont Hunt. He was my Sunday School teacher when I was 14. We were an obnoxious, rowdy class, and we enjoyed the reputation of running our teachers out. I think Brother Hunt was our 4th teacher that year.

He came to class the first Sunday fully prepared with a lesson about Jesus. Paper airplanes and spit wads flew past his head as he tried to create a spiritual atmosphere. There was whispering in the front of the room, and shoving and snickering in the back.

Boys tipped back on their folding chairs, and girls reapplied turquoise eye shadow—none of us showed any respect or courtesy towards our new teacher. Halfway through his lesson, he stopped, and tried to get our attention, pleading with us to settle down. And then he started to cry!

It was horrible. He left for a minute and went to get the Sunday School superintendent, who came in and lectured us, and then they both walked out. I remember that much vividly, but I don't remember anything else, except that I could never look at Mr. Hunt again, and I felt ashamed to have been part of something so ugly.

Fast forward to Salzburg, 1969. If you've read any of my courtship posts, you know that I was in love and receiving daily letters from my parents at home, objecting to my romance. (In defense of my parents, they had known me when I was 14, and they weren't quite over it.) I was on a roller coaster of feeling exhilarated or devastated, depending on whether the mail had arrived yet. I was desperate for support and understanding from home but I was getting scoldings.

One Saturday the owner of the Steinlechner Hotel where we lived knocked on my door and said I had a phone call. When I answered, a voice said, "Marty, this is LaMont Hunt. We're here in Salzburg for the day, and we want to come by and say hello." I couldn't believe it.

A few minutes later he and his wife and son pulled up outside. When he got out of the car I flew into his arms and burst out crying. I was so thrilled to see someone from my real world. He was kind and friendly as I introduced them all to Dee. We talked about their trip, and our semester, they asked what our plans were, and congratulated us and we took pictures all around.

The day the Hunts came to visit me.

They went home, called my parents, and reported good things about Dee and me. There began to be a thaw in the icy reception I had received from my folks. Mr. Hunt said we were doing OK, and Mom and Dad started to trust my judgment a little bit more. He didn't seem to remember our former relationship at all. He was a friend from my neighborhood who loved me and wanted the best for me. (Now, there's a lesson about Jesus, no Sunday School classroom needed.)

Is there someone you would give a George Bailey Award to? If so, tell us who and why on your blog, or in my comment section, or write them a letter and thank them personally. If you're posting it here, don't write about anybody that you know reads my blog. This is an exercise in thinking of someone outside your immediate circle who has influenced your life for good. Maybe a guardian angel?

George, you're wonderful!

(It's fun to see the comments you wrote when I first posted this in April, 2007.)

The Day After

After hours of togetherness,
Mary thought for just a moment
about flipping her family the bird.

(Now, now . . .
you are not related to a bunch of turkeys . . . )

Write Away Seminar: Just Musing

Woman Writing by Henry O'Hara Clive

"Every writer I know has trouble writing."
—Joseph Heller

My muse showed up unannounced at 8:37 am. "I've been hoping you'd come!" I said as I rushed around, picking up pillows. "Just a minute . . . I'm almost ready." She sat on the couch, browsed my bookshelf, and then wandered into my office where she clicked impatiently on the computer keys.

I scrambled to do the dishes, dashed to the bathroom to make myself presentable, dropped in a load of laundry, and decided to fold the clothes in the dryer. The phone rang, and I answered with, "I can't talk right now," but then visited for a few minutes while I made the bed. "I'm coming! Are you still here?" I called to my muse as I scurried into the office. "Oh, my gosh! Let me find a place for you to sit!"

Straightening the books and papers, I quickly jotted some notes and filed a couple of bank statements. The telephone bill sat unpaid on my day-planner, so I got out my checkbook, rifled around for a stamp and envelope, and sent that worry to the mailbox. Finally I sat down at the computer (wow . . . eleven e-mails?) and announced, "OK. I'm ready."

No response. I looked around. She was gone! I stared from my blank mind out at the blank computer screen. "I have nothing," I realized. "It's happened again. Writer's block. Maybe if I read a few blogs I'll be inspired." And that's the story of the unwritten page.

Have you ever missed your muse? They are capricious little friends, I've noticed, unmoved by schedules and routines. Dismissive of children, errands, chores or TV favorites. My muse delights in whispering poetic lines when shampoo is bubbling in my eyes, or when I'm negotiating a left turn with a bus coming towards me. She's usually late for the appointments I set when we're scheduled to write. But, after years of experience, I've discovered ways to profit from her unpredictable visits.

1. Notice when she comes and try to be available. She works me in about 11:00 pm many nights. If I'm awake, I get up and let her rouse me into writing something. When the clock strikes three and I'm still pounding away at the keys, I admit that this joyful expression of myself is why I love writing. I'll take it when I can get it.
2. Have a notebook and pen handy. I have one in my purse, by my bed, on my side of the couch (Dee has one on his side, too, and one on the bathroom counter.) There's a little pad and pencil clipped to my visor in the car, and another in the glove compartment. When I feel her spark, I write down the actual words I'm thinking, not just the idea. ("Santa's stomach: jar of jam" doesn't inspire like "Santa's belly—bowlful of jelly.")
3. Keep a file for jottings. I have a few files stacked next to my computer where I stash the blogs I've scribbled on napkins, and the Oma Books scrawled on restaurant receipts. When I clean out my purse every night I drop them in the folder just as they are, knowing I'll find them when I'm desperate for a brainstorm.
4. Define my motivation. "The best cure for writer's block is alimony," said one writer. While I don't have to pay alimony, I know that an incentive or deadline stimulates my muse. I write goals on my calendar, and expect completion. The secret here is to give myself targets that fit my life at the moment. I can't burn myself out with a Christmas deadline for The Lundgren Family Since 1700 (which I haven't even started.) One goal I set for this summer was "Collect stories about mom for a biography." I outlined steps: Read mom's journals. Write a description of mom from memory. Interview mom's sisters. Take photos of the houses mom lived in. Bite-sized chunks motivate my muse to come along for the fun. After all, she doesn't have to stay all day.
   
5. Schedule writing into my schedule. I read a children's book the other day which was totally dumb. It had no plot, no rhythm, no cute characters, and the illustrations were unappealing. "I could have written a much better book than this!" I thought. But I hadn't. My much better books are all sitting organized in their folders, waiting for my muse to come and finish them up. Maybe if she knew I would be working on my book at 11:00 am each morning for an hour, or for 15 minutes during the weather broadcast every night, or for 30 minutes every month while I wait for my hair to color, she'd fit herself into my schedule. We could set appointments. I'd start without her, and she'd promise to show up eventually.

My Inspiration Files

"I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork."
—Peter DeVries

"You have the right to write," Karen E. Peterson wrote. "If you are a writer at heart, you need to express yourself to feel fully alive. If you don't write, then something might go unsaid—and you'll remain hidden. Hiding provides safety, of course, but it also keeps you from knowing yourself—which may be the point of writing."

I know myself. I want to be a creative writer, but I am at my most creative finding excuses not to write. Usually I just blame my muse. She's such a slacker.

Homework: Choose any of the assignments that apply, or design an exercise that will inspire your muse.

1. Put a few manila folders somewhere handy, with labels like: Quotes, Characters For My Novel, Funny Things the Kids Said, Clippings That Made Me Think, Plots I'd Like to Thicken.
   
2. Buy a package of ten small notebooks and pens (in the dollar aisle of Target) and stash them in places where you often get ideas.
   
3. Every day for a week, write down and file three random thoughts, just to get you in the habit of using your notebooks and files.
   
4. Place scissors and a red pen wherever you spend time reading. Clip or tear newspaper and magazine articles that provoke you, underline the passage you want to remember, and file them away.
5. Written Work: List ten things that get in the way of your writing. (My life is boring; my mom would be shocked; I don't know where to start; I don't have time, I have seven kids.) Go back and write a sentence about how to deal with each issue. Idea: "I have seven kids. I'll sit down with them during homework time and write a paragraph using their spelling words." "My mom would be shocked. I'll write my love story as if it happened to someone else." Now, use your ten sentences to write a mission statement called "I'm Going to Write, and Here's How."
   

Go for it—Write Away!

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment, so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Giving Thanks

A week of Thanksgiving with Oma and Opa:

~Chloe's baptism.


~Brunch with Munchkins.


~Bowling with Heroes.


~Tea Party.


~Root Beer Float Party.


~Swimming, games, stories and golf.


~Feast at La Caille with a berry good Bear Cub.


~Visit Benji.


~Miss these guys,


~Pine for these guys.


~Send hugs to everyone!

Back to School

♫ School days, school days,
Good old golden rule days,
Readin' and writin' and 'rithmetic . . . ♫

I'm going back to school! Wanna come? I'm teaching a 12-week blog seminar, with a different class every day of the week, and you can join in. It's free public education!

Come by tomorrow for more details. (In the meantime, you might need to get a new first-day-of-school-outfit.) We start next Monday. Spread the news!

School Days Seminar

What's Happening?

School Days
A unique, free, course of study offered each day of the week
with my website as the virtual campus.

Daily Classes:
Mondays: Write Away
Tuesdays: Travel Studies

Wednesdays: Book Shelf
Thursdays: Family Matters
Fridays: School of Thought

Where will the Seminar Happen?

Right here (at TravelinOma.blogspot.com)
A Post will be available by 8:am each morning

Your own blog, e-mail, a notebook, or daily life
is where you'll complete your home-work assignments.

When will School Days start? When will they end?

Monday, August 31st—Friday, November 20th

How Do I Sign Up?

1. Leave a comment on this post saying you're interested.

2. Read each daily post next week to see various class curriculum, goals and assignments.
Choose one or all as your course-work, and try to attend class
(by reading the post and doing the homework)
each day your class is offered.

3. You can do the assignments on your own,
or email them privately to TravelinOma,
but for the best results,
post your work on your blog,
and leave a comment and link on Oma's post
for others to see and comment on.

Homework assignments are totally adaptable to your own situation,
and not mandatory to be part of the courses. Your comments will still be welcome.

What's in it for me?

Fun, writing practice, ideas, some new ways of thinking, plus AWARDS!

4. Oma will randomly visit the blogs of those who leave a comment saying they completed an assignment. Participation points will be awarded, kept track of,
and a graduation certificate will be sent to those who finish a particular class.

Actual prizes will be awarded to anyone who participates and completes the assignments
for the entire 12 weeks in all 5 classes.

*Recruiting new students:
Feel free to forward this post to someone who might be interested.
(Click on the little letter icon at the bottom of the post.)

There will be 2 honorary degrees awarded for those who invite the most readers to try
the seminar. Just have them comment that they came to my blog from yours, and you'll be on the extra credit list!

The official graduation ceremonies will be posted Wednesday, November 25th.
Prizes and certificates will be sent then.

Grab your lunch-box, hoist your virtual backpack,
and come back to school the easy way.

See you Monday.
(You can sit next to the tall, tanned, blond!)

Know Any Old Ladies?

"I know an old lady who swallowed a pie . . .
A Thanksgiving pie, which was really too dry.
Perhaps she'll die."

She swallowed some cider, a roll and a salad,
"she was looking quite pallid
after that salad . . . "

And then the old lady swallowed a turkey.


"Her future looked murky, after that turkey!
She swallowed the turkey to go with the salad . . .

She swallowed a roll to go with the cider,
That rumbled and mumbled and grumbled inside her.

She swallowed the cider to moisten the pie,
The Thanksgiving pie, which was really too dry.

Perhaps she'll die."

" I know an old lady who swallowed some bread.

"I'm full," she said.

Read the whole story before you start gobbling!

Talkin' Turkey

First Day of School/Becoming a Writer

First Day of School 1910

Somebody's crying for their mom. Somebody forgot their lunch. Oops . . . somebody wet their knickers. Sorry about that: the first day of school is scary for teachers!

But, now that you're here I'm feeling a little better. Since we're all new, let's go over some class rules before we get started:

1. We have open enrollment. Everybody's welcome whenever they can come; you don't need to have a blog.
   
2. Homework and class involvement are optional. But, there will be participation points for anybody who comments about an assignment. If you do an assignment on your blog, please give proper attribution and link it back to TravelinOma as part of our class discussion.
   
3. You'll grade your own work. (A for Accomplishment, B for Basic Effort, C for Class Comments, D for thinking the assignment is Dumb, and F for Failure to Communicate.)
4. Anyone who completes a written assignment for this class every week will receive an Associate Degree. If you finish the other School Days class assignments, too, you'll get an OMA degree and prize. Keep track and I'll let you know when to report in. (We're on the honor system.)
5. Honorary Degrees and prizes go to the two people who recruit the most new students. (Have them mention your name or blog.)
6. You're welcome to put the School Days button on your blog, and for easy access, don't forget to subscribe to TravelinOma.

Orientation's over. Are you ready for class?

Becoming a Writer: 101

Journalista

"Writing comes more easily if you have something to say."
—Sholem Asch

I've always had plenty to say. In fact, I learned early that writing is a way of talking without being interrupted. But it took me a long time to call myself a writer. It didn't make sense: people who ski are skiers; people who paint are painters; but it seemed almost sacrilegious to deem myself a writer. What if the other writers were insulted that I thought myself worthy of their title?

You may have known early on that you were a writer, but I thought I wouldn't be a real writer until I had a best-seller. So all the time I was writing 4 or 5 hours a day, I still thought of myself as a wannabe. Then I sold some articles to Woman's Day, Family Circle, The Ensign and Good Housekeeping. Do you remember them? Well, that's the thing. Nobody does. Even though I got paid a hundred dollars here and there for writing, I still felt like an impostor. The page looked just as blank the next time, and I always doubted that I could fill it up again.

It's scary to open your soul, show your innermost self to others with the possibility that they won't like what they see. I've always heard the stories of actors who dream they go on stage and realize they're naked. (Dave Letterman says, "I love that dream.") I'd never had dreams like that until I started blogging. Now, I dream that I'm at the grocery store, or at church, and I suddenly perceive that I forgot to get dressed.

That's how I know I'm a writer. My heart is coming out through my fingertips. I don't need a paycheck, or a bestseller to prove it to myself. Maybe this is what a runner experiences when she starts training for a marathon, or a quilter when she gathers up a bundle of fat quarters. It's a surge of anticipation and trepidation—I love the sensation of writing enough to put in the time and toil to try to outdo myself.

Sue Grafton, the author of the alphabet mystery series, said, "Writing is self-taught. Most of us learn to write well by writing badly for a long, long time."

Blogging is a great way to get writing practice and build habits of showing up at the computer to work regularly. Some writers wait for a mystical muse to show up and stimulate creativity (we'll talk about that next week) but I've found that if I make writing a priority, I will actually get something written. Maybe.

Homework Assignment: Do any or all, or be inspired.

~ Think of a writing project you want to do. Name it. Write down the ten steps to begin. Write each step on a day or week in your planner (give yourself enough time to make it fun) and follow through. For instance:

My Semester Abroad

1. Get a new notebook and file folders.
2. Make a monthly time-line in my notebook or on the computer.
   
3. Find the letters I sent home.
4. Put letters in chronological order.
5. Read letters and stick post-its on good parts.
6. Call friends who were there and jot down their memories.
7. Look through photos and pick the best ones.
8. Write down how I decided to go (this is the beginning.)
   
9. Write down how the experience changed me (this is the end.)
10. Start writing up the stories I've chosen (this is the middle.)
    

~ Write a page about you. Introduce yourself. Prompt: If you were a character in your own book, what would your name be? Describe your inner self and your outer self. Prompt: "He saw her sneak into the classroom. She was ____, but he could tell she was____. . ."

~Every memoir has a catchy title. What would the title of your memoir be? Use the title to write the opening paragraph. Would anyone guess the book was about you?

~Make a list of writing projects you'd like to do someday.

~Write a blog post about why you have a blog.

Now, write away!

"Trust in what you love, continue to do it, and it will take you where you need to go."
—Natalie Goldberg

Travel Studies: Plan a Trip

"Travel is intensified living---maximum thrills per minute,
and one of the last great sources of adventure.
Travel is freedom. It's recess, and we need it."
Rick Steves

How would you like to get three trips for the price of one? I do it all the time. The first trip is in my imagination as I pore over maps, research cities, locate hotels and plan scenic drives. The second is the trip we actually go on, with all it's wonders, bumps, and wake-up calls. The third is the trip we remember (which is often more fun than the trip we took!)

A freebie is a trip you plan and remember but don't actually take. I've had several of those, too.

Travel is one of our top priorities. Dee and I met on a semester abroad, so we started out traveling together. Over our forty years we've traveled rich and we've traveled poor; we've stayed at the George V in Paris, and a motel in Reno where we had to insert a quarter to get hot water (and both places are memorable.) Expensive can be dowdy, and cheap can be charming: the Daylite Donuts in Idaho Falls are as tasty as the Chocolate Soup at Max Brenner's in New York City—just different.

Here's how we plan a trip.

The TravelinOma Bookshelf

Yellow pad at the ready, we decide how many days we have available, and how much money we can spend. We divide the money into the days and set priorities—Cool hotel? Drive til we drop? Are we taking any kids? (Traveling with Kids is an upcoming class.) What kind of trip do we want?

1. Got to Get Out of Here: $300 divided by 6 = Ghost towns near Reno.
   
2. Have a Little Money: $1000 divided by 5 = drive somewhere far and stay on the outskirts of town, or drive to somewhere close and stay ritzy.
3. Special Event Long Weekend: $2000 divided by 4 = fly far away, stay in an out-of-the-way romantic inn.
   
4. We've Saved For This: $5000 divided by 5 = fly farway, stay posh, shop at Bloomingdale's.
5. We've Researched This: $5000 divided by 10 = fly faraway, stay charming. (We'll plan Europe on a Budget next week.)
   

TravelinOma Desk

With a map handy for distances, list some places you'd like to go. Or go online to TripAdvisor and get inspiration. Do you want a leisurely destination vacation? Or an on-the-go journey?

When choosing a hotel I try to imagine how we'll feel after each day. Will we want a hotel in the center of the action, or will we want to be secluded in a lodge by the lake? Will we arrive early enough to explore, or will that be on the next morning's docket? Which hotels offer free parking? Is valet in-and-out parking available in a downtown location? Do they offer breakfast, or is a restaurant within walking distance? Should we stay in one hotel for several nights and make day trips, or do we want to tour a different village every afternoon and try new hotels?

Hotels matter to me. I want air-conditioning and elevators that work, so I research hotels online, and read comments by recent guests. I look up bookstores and restaurants, shopping streets and tourist attractions, and find a hotel that is close to what we like to do. Because I've been stung, I never book online. They take your money immediately, for the whole stay, and sometimes you can't get a refund if your plans change.

Call the hotel directly (google the name of the hotel and look for a local number, not the 1-800 reservation service) and ask for their best rate. Then say, "Do you have anything for less?" They always do! If that price is higher than what you saw online, tell them. They will lower it to the online price.

After I've secured my rate, I ask about the room amenities, telling them I want a corner room (they are bigger), a good view, etc. and I usually get what I want for the same price. They hold the reservation with a credit card, but I'm not obligated and I can cancel within 24 hours with no charge.

Last week we went to Sun Valley, Idaho for a writer's conference. I called some hotels and asked for their best rate. (Busy weekend=$189.) Then I asked if that room was available at a discount price for AARP (or AAA, or student rate, or business rate, or whatever category you fit into.) The discount rate was $172. I asked if this was for 2 queens or a king. No matter what their answer was, I said, "Could I have a cheaper rate for the other room?" Suddenly it was available for $161. I said I'd call back after I'd checked around. When I called back I said, "I was told this room was $161. Do you have a cheaper rate?" Three out of five times they lowered it!

So, we were guaranteed a standard room with two queens for $152. When we checked in I noticed they had vacancies. I asked if they could upgrade us to a bigger room. We stayed in a gorgeous suite for $152! It doesn't always work, but I've found it's worth it to ask.

As fun preparation, I haunt the library and bookstores and read everything I can about where we're going. Reading novels and watching movies set in the location gets me in the mood, and I absorb enough history to arouse my interest. For example, Hemingway lived in Sun Valley, so we listened to The Immovable Feast while we drove, and then visited his grave in Ketchum, ate at the inn where he lived, and saw the deer he shot.

I leave time for serendipity, but I like to have a rough itinerary. We have often changed plans in the middle of a trip because of weather, or unexpected diversions, but having a general idea of where we're going and what we want to see eliminates stress. It helps to have a list of things to do if it rains, and the phone numbers of another hotel or two nearby, just in case.

After the planning part of the trip, the real travel begins. With the research propped behind us we are free to be flexible. We always anticipate the unexpected and savor the contrasts. Travel is addicting. Dee and I began our life together traveling, and I hope we never stop. In fact, our favorite activity while we're on a trip is to start planning our next one!


Homework: Do any or all of these assignments or be inspired.

~List ten places you'd like to go someday. Write a paragraph about your ideal type of trip. Prompt: "I don't like to ___when I'm on vacation. I go away so I can____."

~Blog about a trip that was a disaster. Ideas: "Our honeymoon should have been perfect, but" or "I woke up in Disneyland with chickenpox."

~Fantasize about arriving at your dream destination. Prompt: "I looked out the window of the taxi and saw the . . ."

~Write about someone famous you saw while on vacation. How did they look? What did you do? What do you wish you'd done?

~How has travel changed you? Prompt: "After I went to___, I felt differently about___."


*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, link it back to TravelinOma. And please leave a comment here with a link to your blog as part of our class discussion. I'll be keeping track, and spot checking your work, giving points for participation. You can grade your own work, based on your individual progress. (A for Accomplishment, B for Basic Effort, C for Class Comments, D for thinking this post is Dumb, and F for Failure to Communicate.)

Here's the button for your blog.
I hope I did it right this time.

Several people have asked how to create a link to their homework assignment. I'm not too savvy. When I leave a comment on somebody's blog for the first time, there's a pop-up asking for my name (I say TravelinOma) my email, and my URL (travelinoma.blogspot.com) I check the remember me box and from then on my comments automatically link back to my blog without me doing anything.

The only other way I know is to type in your address and we can cut and paste it into our address bar at the top.

I was able to find everyone that commented about doing assignments today. I'm totally overwhelmed by the participation!! You are awesome, and I'm scared to death that I won't live up to my own hype. I've had comments or emails from 137 people, and I've visited every blog that was open to me so I could meet you all. (Which is why it is now 3:20 am and I'm just finishing up.)

I'm so impressed with your creativity and feel humbled that you're even reading my stuff. You have motivated me to improve. I encourage everyone to check out the comments and visit the links. Some of your writing had me in tears, and others of you had me laughing out loud. It's been a fun day!