Summertime… and the Living is Easy…

Hi Fellow Bloggers and Friends,

It’s that time of the year that a girl wants to kick back, drink a couple of Natty Bohs, watch the Orioles, and maybe read a couple of good books. And if someone sits a platter of steamed crabs in front of that girl and some corn on the cob, well I don’t guess that gal will complain much!

In short, it is the middle of summer, and the living is easy. I want to sit on the back porch and watch the sun set over the rolling hills beyond my property line. I want to listen to a little Sinatra, a little Ella, some Norah Jones and just plain chill (that is, if anyone can chill in 85 – 90 degree weather). No ‘shoulds’ or obligations. Just me, a nice cold drink, a couple of good books and some fine music.


Anyway, all of this is to say that yours truly is taking a brief blog break over the next several weeks. I am officially chilling.

After all, it’s summertime… and the livin’ is easy. And that’s what I’m planning to do: some easy living.

Here’s a little something to get you in the mood for some easy living, too. Some sweet Norah Jones – now, as my grandmother used to say, you just grab yourself something cool to drink and you settle back and listen. After all, it’s too hot to do much else.

See you in August, friends!

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Kate’s Monumental Pity Party

Today I had the mother of all pity parties! And the guest of honor? The hostess with the mostest? Yours truly, Ms. Kate Loveton.

eeyore-1I pretty much walked around today looking as woebegone as a certain beloved A.A. Milne character. Yep, ‘Eyeore’ spelled backwards is KATE. Okay, folks, let’s not get literal here – ‘Eyeore’ spelled backwards is actually ‘Eroeye’… but, today, it was just another name for KATE.

My beautiful Friday started out well and then quickly went down the toilet. First, at work, I was left out of a meeting I should have been invited to attend. That bothered me a great deal and made me question my value to the team.

We all want to feel loved, right? Valued? Special? Important to someone, be it organization or friend or family member. So, I wasn’t a happy trooper. Later, I did find out the lack of invitation was an oversight, and was offered some heartfelt apologies, and that did go a long way to restoring my self-esteem.

Even so, it pretty much defined the way my day was going to go. A few other things occurred and, well, let’s face it: when a day starts out bad, there is usually only one way for it to go.


its-my-party-and-ill-cry-if-i-want-to-3I ended my day feeling undervalued, unappreciated, and just plain hurt. Then began the monumental pity party: no one appreciates me; no one really gives a damn; why be nice? the hell with everybody!

As I said, it was a MONUMENTAL pity party.

So, in a foul mood, I walked in the door at home and began to dump my entire day on my poor husband.

Now, my husband is the exact opposite of me: he has a sunny disposition; he’s not moody; and he is LOGICAL.

Kate, it is logical that you feel the way you do!

Kate, it is logical that you feel the way you do!

Now, for the ladies reading this post – work with me on this: doesn’t it just make you nuts when you want someone to join in on your pity party and they offer a LOGICAL point of view? I don’t want logic! I’m a woman! I’m not Mr. Spock! I want someone to listen to me whine and say, “You are absolutely right to feel the way you do.”

But nooooo – You men, creatures of clear thinking that you are, rarely offer us Pablum, even when we’re acting two years old; only our girlfriends – God bless ’em – offer us that solace.

Mr. Loveton’s take on my day: (1) you’re overtired because you’ve been doing a lot the last few weeks, both at home and at work, and you need a break; (2) you’re being just a bit silly and if you weren’t so tired, you’d realize that; and (3) the  pièce de ré·sis·tance – he quoted my beloved Frank Sinatra’s musical advice to “pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.”


I can fight Mr. Loveton. I can even take issue with Mr. Sinatra. But there’s no way in hell I can fight them both – especially when they are right.

So, my sense of entitlement and hurt feelings – my beautiful pity party – quickly fell to pieces.

Taking the sting out of the day.

Taking the sting out of the day.

To take the sting out of his good advice, Mr. Loveton then took me out to dinner and put a cool chardonnay in front of me. Amazing how a good glass of wine can sometimes make a bad day seem much better!

Well, that and the news that my car is now repaired and back home. I am definitely doing the happy dance. I’ve missed my car. I think it missed me. I’ve had dreams of it sitting in a broken down heap at the Collision Center, waiting for the ‘doctors’ to put old Humpty back together again. Well, they did – and a swell job it is.

Like new again.

Like new again.

So, in spite of a not so great day, I had a lovely Friday evening. I had Frank Sinatra give me a word of good advice, a fine chardonnay to chase the blues away, and my pretty black car is tucked safely away inside the garage.

And, in the end, it’s not the meetings you aren’t invited to or how you feel you’re regarded, it’s how you regard yourself.

Now excuse me, I have just a little more dusting off to do before bedtime.  Goodnight, Mr. Loveton – and, Frank, goodnight to you, too.  <3

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The Worst Kind of Thievery


“Mrs. Noble, I want you to look closely at each man and let me know if you see him,” said Detective Scott, “and take as much time as you need.”

Fear made me clutch the plastic cup tightly and the water began to spill, but Scott reached out with a sure hand and steadied me.

And that’s when I saw him, the thief, standing in the lineup, smirking at those of us on the other side of the mirror.

Thief, rapist – it’s all the same; taking me as he did, he carried off my sense of well-being, robbing me forever of my freedom.

“That’s him,” I said, pointing, and turned away, sick to my stomach.

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Kate Loveton, Odyssey of a Novice Writer



Note: Story written in response to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction (here). This week’s prompt was to write a story in five sentences using the word “thief.”

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The Electrifying Dorinda


The first time I met Dorinda she was appearing in Phineas Todd’s Circus of Wonders, sporting an electric crown and tresses that danced like flames about her beautiful face. She was breathtaking, my electrified Dorinda, charming the rubes; charming me as well, and for a good ten years we loved.

Then Stefano, that damned sword-swallowing lothario, joined the show, and one foggy night I followed my traitorous Dorinda behind the big tent and listened to the eager, frenzied sound of a sword being swallowed…

That’s when my beauties paid a surprise visit to the trailer of the two-timing Dorinda, who went to her grave covered in deadly kisses.

My name is Say-ed, the Arabian Snake Charmer, and this is my story.

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Kate Loveton, Odyssey of a Novice Writer



Note: Written in response to Lillie McFerrin’s “Five Sentence Fiction” (found here). This week’s challenge is to write a story in five sentences utilizing the word “flames.”

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No Such Thing as Freedom…


With grim satisfaction I received the news.

At last we were free.

No more dancing to your tune. No more “yes sir, no sir, anything you say, sir!” No more running for cover. No stiff upper lip while you bullied and pummeled.

You told everyone your boys were the toughest, the best. Fights were won in the schoolyard, or at home we’d face your fists.  Excuses were for sissies.

Such a little man; what made us think you a giant?

When I heard you had died, I felt liberated! Happy!

And then I cried.

You’re still here, damn you.


© 2015 All Rights Reserved Kate Loveton, Odyssey of a Novice Writer



Note: This story is written in response to the “100 Word Challenge for Grown-Ups” at Julia’s Place.  This week’s challenge is to write a 100 word story utilizing the phrase “at last we were free.” You can find the challenge here.

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Rewriting the Past

Kate Loveton:

This is a blog post I wrote back in January 2014. Frankly, I’d forgotten I’d written it and only came across it yesterday when it popped up as suggested further reading at the end of one of my current blog posts.

The reason I’ve reblogged it is that for many of you this will be something new as I had pretty much just started blogging when I wrote the post.

The second and more compelling reason is that it fits in nicely with some of the posts I’d written earlier this week about my father and the past. I think it is true that as we get older, we do tend the remember the better moments in our past and in our relationships with others. And I think it is also true that when those memories are not always good ones, we seek to rearrange them into something more palatable.

This is certainly true in this review and essay about the experiences of Walt Disney and the writer of “Mary Poppins,” PL Travers. If you have time, I hope you can spare a moment to read this. Thank you.

Originally posted on Odyssey of a Novice Writer:

Yesterday, my husband and I decided to venture outside our warm and toasty house, braving buckets of rain and nasty winds to catch a showing of a film we both had been wanting to see for several weeks: “Saving Mr. Banks.”

For those who don’t know, the film revolves around Walt Disney’s machinations to persuade P.L. Travers, author of the “Mary Poppins” books, to sign over rights to Disney for a film adaptation.


Travers, a feisty, difficult person who had fallen on hard economic times, was loathe to part with the rights to the character, unwilling to sanction what she feared would be a cartoonish and folksy simplification of a story important to her. As the film goes on, we learn the reasons why “Mary Poppins” mattered so much to her. It was not, as we first suppose, Mary Poppins who was important to Travers, but the character of Mr…

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A Whale of a Tale


I’d just polished off my sixth Budweiser and was half-asleep when I felt someone plop down in the sand beside me – a beauty with sea-green eyes and white surfer girl hair that rippled like waves around her hips.

“Well, hello, beauty,” I said, staring into those mesmerizing eyes, “what’s your name and where the hell did you suddenly come from?”

“The name is Lorelei and I’ve just walked out of the sea.”

“Sure you did, baby,” I grinned, “and your old man’s name is Neptune, right?”

“I see you know my family,” I think I heard her say, but I can’t be sure; I was too busy staring at the webbing between her toes.

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Kate Loveton, Odyssey of a Novice Writer


Note: Story written in response to “Lillie McFerrin Writes” and her five-sentence fiction challenge (found here). This week’s challenge is to write a story utilizing the word “waves” in just five sentences.


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