Flat Tire

by Tracy Winegar
So I'm just now getting a chance to blog about the writers conference last Saturday. Guess what happened on the way there? My tire blew out. This is ironic for several different reasons. For one, I just wrote about a similar experience in one of my books in the works. For two, I passed a guy the other day that was changing a flat, and I thought to myself, 'Huh, I've never had that happen'. Good thing too because I wouldn't know where to begin if I had a flat tire.
There I am, on the side of the road, unable to even figure out where the hazard lights are, with a flat tire. I immediately called my knight in shining armor, my husband, Ben. He got all four of our kids into the car and drove out to help me. In the mean time, some good Samaritan, AKA Mike Johnson from UDOT happened by, saw my dilemma, and stopped to help change my flat. Just as he was finishing up, my husband pulled up and thanked him. I did too. I gave him one of my books to show how much I appreciated him. Shameless plug, right?
It doesn't end there. Ben followed me all the way down to Springville, took the kids and the van, and replaced my tire. He left the van for me and then headed back home. Oh, isn't that so sweet? So I comfortably enjoyed the festivities, thanks to Doug for putting it on, while my dear husband juggled four kids and getting the flat replaced. I even got a very warm welcome from everyone who attended when I finally arrived, again thanks to Doug. I must admit I felt a little guilty for enjoying myself, knowing what Ben was going through behind the scenes.
By the way, if you haven't noticed from my other blogs, my life is a Soap Opera. But I'm still standing!

Tiny Tess

The newest addition to our family, my little niece Tess, was born on Tuesday at 2:30 in the morning. Refusing to conform to the norm, she came in an unlikely manner. I received a call from my older sister Kelly out in Pennsylvania at about 4:30 in the morning on my cell phone. I attempted to ignore it on the first ring. However, on the second call I managed to pull myself out of bed and answer. I assumed that it was one of my sister's children, unaware that there is a two hour time change between there and Utah.
Instead my sister told me that little Tess had been born at home a whopping two and a half months early. My brother-in-law had delivered her before they were even able to call 911. An ambulance was called after the fact, and Tess and her mother were whisked away to the hospital. Imagine our surprise. I immediately threw on my clothes and was out the door for the two hour drive up to Idaho. When I got there my brother was already there. Half an hour later, my sister Jennifer came. My sister Ashley had been staying with Jessica to help her during a particularly difficult pregnancy and was taking care of Jessica's two other girls when I got there.
It is amazing to me what an inspired unit the family is. I can't name how many times they have helped me through scrapes, encouraged me to follow my dreams, and have shared my happy times with me. But I felt such pride as we all came together during this minor disaster. I got to see tiny Tess, how small, how fragile, at just a little over three pounds, and I knew that she had come to the right place, welcomed by a family that loves her.

Joy of Reading

My daughter, Brynlee, is an avid reader. I like to think I instilled that love for words in her. My husband and I have a difficult time supplying her with reading material because she blows through it so quickly. The thing that pleases me more than anything is when I give her one of my favorites from my childhood, she reads it and loves it. A flood of memories comes over me. I recall where I was and what I felt when I was reading that same book. It is amazing how words can connect us, focus us on one central goal and idea. Through her, I have maintained that eager anticipation for reading a new book or revisiting an old, familiar one.
The greatest honor I have had with my writing was when she read my book, gushed about how she had loved it, and then asked me to sign it for her. I don't think that I would have been more humbled if it had been the president himself asking for my signature.

Thanks to Pennsylvania Book Group

by Tracy Winegar

I had the rare privilege of actually meeting with and talking to two book groups this past weekend. One, here in Utah, had me over last Thursday night. I was very pleased that they liked the book, and even got a little emotional about it. I find that many people who have read it are so supportive.

On Friday, I flew out to Pennsylvania. The flight there wasn't very smooth. A lot of turbulence compelled me to eat very little. It was reminiscent of a crash sequence out of a movie. But I made it there in one piece. The following day I attended the book group there. It was so much fun. To go along with the 50s theme we wore vintage aprons, and the food fare was also more of the same. Jello salads, coffee cake, cheese quiches, etc. I'm sure they were astonished that I could put away so much food, but I will remind you that I was unable to eat the day before. I was welcomed very warmly and got to meet so many kind and interesting people. They had some amazing insights that really made me think twice about what I had written. All in all I would say it was a huge success.

I'm sold on book groups. They're the greatest. If you know anyone that's in a book group you might try suggesting Keeping Keller to them!

By the way, Doug, I promise never to call at 7:30 in the morning on a Sunday again. In all fairness, they are two hours ahead of Utah time, so it was 9:30 there.

Tuesday Night is Half Price Night

by Tracy Winegar

My husband and I look for the simple pleasures to get us through. For instance, we enjoy renting movies, spending our evenings together with a bowl of microwave popcorn, or if I'm really ambitious some homemade brownies. So when we found out Sonic had hamburgers half price on Tuesday evenings, we were all over it. Here's the thing, we saw the sign but didn't believe it. There is was handwritten with a marker, on a regular sheet of paper, taped to the menu. We thought maybe someone had posted it there as a joke.
My husband asked, “Is this sign right? Are your burgers half off ?”
The kid replies, “Yes, Sir,” as if he's put out that Ben asked such a moronic question.
So Ben said, “Half off?”
The kid said, “Yeah, half off. Only on the single burgers, though, not on the doubles.”
My husband got a kick out of that. He asked, “So, can I buy two singles at half price and put them together to make a double, or would you charge me full price for that?”
There was silence on the other end, because the kid didn't understand what the heck was going on. I couldn't quit laughing. Finally the kid said, “Uh, I guess you can do whatever you want with them once you pay for them.”
Not only were the hamburgers a simple pleasure at half price, but the joke was a simple pleasure too. I had to remind my husband that teasing someone who is preparing your food is maybe funny but not very wise.

I Got Tagged Too

By Tracy Winegar

I got tagged. Let’s see, so many strange and bizarre facts it’s hard to choose from them all, but I’ll at least attempt to.
1. I had plastic surgery. At the tender age of nine I had my ears pinned back. Fortunately for me they had such a surgery because I was sick of answering to Dumbo.
2. I played Coco in the play FAME, changing my physical appearance from strawberry blond to black hair and pale white skin to bronze. No one recognized me.
3. I can touch my nose with my tongue. I can also roll it, fold it, and flip it.
4. I wear socks ALL the time, even to bed. (Only exception being the shower) If I don’t have a clean pair I panic.
5. After taking the sixth grade class to a Shakespeare play which ran over, a parent called the police on me for being late. The first and hopefully last time I had a run in with the law.
6. I have a wretched singing voice. I’ll sing in my kitchen but not anywhere public.
7. I have always wanted to garden but unfortunately I have a black thumb. I kill everything.

I tag:
Marcia Mickelson http://marciamickelson.com/
Kimberly Jenson atonofauthorsandawannabe.blogspot.com
Suzie Roberts atonofauthorsandawannabe.blogspot.com

Are We Lost?

By Tracy Winegar

I have a unique perspective that few people can claim. I have worked extensively with mentally handicapped children, including my own, and I am currently the teacher for the gifted students at an elementary school. It certainly makes you appreciate both ends of it. I think that I richochet between the two extremes like a ball on a tennis court. While running copies one day in the work room, my friend, who's job it is to take care of the need of teachers and staff for anything of that nature, teased me when I was unable to figure out how to run the copier machine. She said something along the lines of, "And you teach the gifted students?" in mock horror. I replied that they were third through sixth graders and hopefully I was able to compete mentally with that age group. Funny thing is, they are constantly keeping me on my toes.
For instance, last Tuesday a fellow teacher and myself took a group of thirteen children on a field trip to the Utah Museum of Fine Arts. The bus driver dropped us off at the bottom of a low hill and told us that she was not allowed to drive the bus to the front of the museum. She then informed us that it was a loop and if we just followed that loop around, we would find ourselves right at the front door. She said that she would pick us up at this same place in two hours time and drove away. I am not from around here. I naively was beguiled by her credible story. So my fellow teacher and myself lead this group of elementary age students around the loop, only to find no Utah Museum of Fine Arts. We suggested a short rest, right next to the map of the University of Utah's campus. We located the loop to which we had been dropped - No Utah Museum of Fine Arts.
At this point my colleague went in to the nearest building to seek advice and perhaps acquire directions. I was left with the thirteen children, all good kids mind you, although some are a little more subdued than others, that bore stickers stating, "I Belong to Lincoln Elementary, if found please call 000-0000(You didn't think I would post my cell phone number now did you?). It didn't take long for them to began to ask, "Mrs. Winegar, are we lost?" To which I blatantly replied, "Of course not, I know just where we are," and pointed our loop out on the map. What a surprise when my fellow teacher returned with a map and directions to the museum, which was only about a half an hours walk away! I like to fondly think of it as the day that I lost ten pounds. I told the kids that we were taking the scenic route, which led to only a few snickers. I don't think I will ever trust another bus driver again.

Rude things to ensure Grandma and Grandpa Don't Visit Again

by Tracy Winegar

It was a great weekend here. My parents were traveling through and we got the chance to see them. My little brother Grant was in tow. He just got a call to Poland. He’ll be leaving in another couple of months for his mission. This is a huge deal for me because I use to help my mom out every now and then and take him to kindergarten for her. Now he towers over me by at least a foot! I am really struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is no longer a baby. I sure was glad they dropped by, but if they ever choose to come back has yet to be seen. You see they got quite a rude welcome from my boys, both not exactly gifted in the fine art of socializing.
My older son Luke does not like anything out of the ordinary and so when a guest drops by he tries to push them out the door the entire time. Grandma and Grandpa were no exception. He would tell them, “I love you kids,” and then “Get in the car. Good-bye.” This went on for pretty much the entire night, until he was physically pushing them toward the door. They laughed, and thought it was just so cute. As if that weren’t bad enough my other son Hayden pulled his own faux-pas. Grandma and Grandpa spent the night at a hotel, and when they returned this morning Hayden couldn’t wait for them to get in the door. He ran out, embracing them on the front lawn. After what I’m sure was a tight hug he pulled away and told my mother, “You guys smell old.”
I can assure you that they do not smell “old”. I smelled her and she smelled quite lovely, like a floral scented lotion. So if my poor parents, who traveled all the way from Tennessee, ever return to be so foully insulted again, I will count myself lucky.

Keeping Keller is Here!

by Tracy Winegar
I'm sure that Doug has grown use to my hounding, much like a child waiting for her birthday to come, but yesterday I was finally given my reward. I got to see my book for the first time! They look good, they feel good, they smell good. Nothing like seeing the vision in the flesh to get a rush. It was very surreal. I was thumbing through the crisp, stiff pages and it was almost as if I had read the words for the first time ever, although I am pretty certain it was me that wrote them. I was so tempted to stand at the corner of our street, shouting out to anyone who might pass by, "My book is out! My book is out!"
Coincidentally when I went in to work this morning that is exactly what I did. My wonderful co-workers were very supportive and gave me a little pat on the back. My, what a difference a day makes! I'm not quite off of the pins and needles yet, however. Now if I can just get them to sell...

The Facts of Life

By Tracy Winegar
One of the rare outings that we go on as a family is a very regular trip to the zoo. My son Luke is a somewhat difficult child in public, leaving us no choice but to choose the zoo as our activity, something that he can actually enjoy and handle. As a matter of fact we have the season pass because we figured it would save us a nice chunk of change, since we frequent the establishment so much. He’s always had a fascination with animals. It has, however, been our sad misfortune as of late to have several run ins with the tragic facts of life.
It was only a month or so ago that we went rather early, early enough that the reptile house had just barely opened its doors to the public. There in one of the cages was the sweetest, fluffiest little bunny rabbit you’ve ever laid eyes on curled up in the RATTLE SNAKE’S CAGE! My daughter innocently asked, “Mom, why is that little bunny sleeping in the snake’s cage?” It was then that my husband had to explain that the bunny was not sleeping, that it was breakfast. She was devastated. She cried through the remainder of the exhibits inconsolably.
More recently, just last week as a matter of fact, we were standing in front of the crocodile exhibit. The frighteningly large reptile floated like a piece of drift wood in the water just behind the protective glass barrier. Nearby the immense, cold blood creature bobbed a plastic ball, carried to and fro with the movement of the water. In slow motion the crocodile dropped his lower jaw, ever so slowly rising to the surface of his concrete pond and then sprang towards us at lightening fast speed, lunging at the ball, and snapping it between its dangerously sharp teeth. The sudden violent movement made us all cry out and jump back in terror. My son, who speaks as seldom as is permitted, has been saying all week, “The alligator bit the ball.”It reminded me of when he saw the National Geographics special on lions, and witnessed a lioness attacking and devouring a zebra. He seemed very concerned for the zebra as he exclaimed, “Ouch! Are you OK?” So here it is, one of the unfortunate facts of life, dinner is whatever is available. Hopefully you’re the one eating and not being eaten!

Valentines Day

I have been under the misconception that I am loved by all. Not so. While helping with my daughter’s Valentine party at school, I came to the realization that perhaps the notion that I am someone of importance was shattered. My job was to help the students with a matching game. After which they moved on to the next stations where they played bingo, made a card for their parents, and decorated a sugar cookie in the shape of a heart.
I was charming, I was entertaining, I was something of a celebrity mom. I sat in a chair at one of the student desks supervising the festivities everyone laughing and enjoying themselves, when a boy that had been in the group before approached, a cookie decorated with every square inch in candies and icing. He cupped it in his hands ever so carefully and held it out as he drew nearer. Well, I was flattered to say the least, a fourth grader courteous enough to remember me, little old me, who had helped him with his Valentines matching game.
“Oh, that was so thoughtful of you,” I bragged. “But you should keep it for yourself. I’ll just take one of these candies and you eat the rest.” With that I plucked a candied heart from atop the mound of icing he had used to decorate his cookie with and popped it into my mouth. He seemed a little upset. Perhaps I had offended him in not accepting his offer. “You’re sitting in my chair,” he said, pulling the cookie in closer to protect it from me. “Could I have my desk back?” As it turns out, the heart shaped cookie was not meant for me. Luckily I was forgiven for taking the candy, but I’m sure that poor kid will not forget me for some time, the old lady that took his chair and his candied heart, right off the top of the cookie he had so diligently decorated for himself.