Today I almost answered the phone, I looked at the caller’s number and decided not to answer.  John said “Oh, answer it. It’s probably just Mittens!”  I rolled my eyes because John calls him “my other man” for sending me his picture EVERY week. “And he’s never even met you; that’s creepy. At least I’ve met my other woman. (see previous my blog with the title, “John’s Other Woman” All I could say was, “Maybe it’s better to know me from afar.”  Thanks for all the glossy 8×10 photos ‘Mittens’ Romney.  nancymauerman.com

I spell so poorly; butcher words so completely, my computer’s dictionary is sometimes at a loss. Then I turn to my bound cardboard and paper dictionary but even then you have to be at least half way there to find a word, so I frantically dig into my buddies; “Roget’s Thesaurus”, Random House’s “Word Menu”, and even my encyclopedias for help. While hunting one day I ran into “bugbear” and I haven’t been the same.
I quote here from, “Leafman Attacks” (book one of four) Leafman, Who’s Beefman? The narrator explains; “A bugbear is a problem that couldn’t possibly exist, but sometimes does.” An extended version of the next page (that didn’t all fit in the book) is; “there’s not enough room in this house for me to even think but if I quit thinking my mind will shrivel up with neglect, like a fifty year old black walnut, and rattle around in my head while I walk. Then if someone breaks into my house he’ll hear my brains rattle when I sneak out the back door with the phone. He’ll punch me, I might even loose the use of my right arm, and he’ll get away and go rob someone else!”
I often blog about John’s ability to love life’s smallitudes (a word not found in any of my books by the way but means an attitude in which the a person can appreciate and treasures “the small and simple things in life”.) But another part of his thinking could be described as a bag of bugbearian doom.  nancymauerman.com

John often makes his own meals and being married to a visual person, he arranges his plate beautifully, garnishes it with flare and before he eats it, he brings his master piece to me where ever I am; at this key board, drawing, or watering plants perhaps. He tips it slightly and I admire his art.
John’s collected a variety of useable postage stamps, purple hearts, flowers, flags and so his envelopes echo the theme of the inner message. They’re beautiful. Yesterday’s had four stamps along the top corner and rubber stamp marks below. John writes letters a few pages in length and when they are all sealed up, stamped, and ready to go, all those pages along with a pillow of air sealed inside, feel good in my hands. John brought it over for an inspection and admiration.                                                                                              I told him that I’d like to write to the person he wrote to and asking for the letter and envelope back when he’s done with it.
John said he’d send me one of my own and that he’d fill it with all kinds of romantic paper work. I can’t wait. The problem is; they feel better in my hands unopened. I’ll have to choose.      nancymauerman.com

I love English. The words, “can’t” comes from can not, and “aren’t” comes from are not, so I say, will not should be “Willn’t and won’t should break down to “wo not”! Let’s use this last one, my favorite, in a sentence: I’m so full of sadness but I wo not cry at my chicken’s birthday party.
This reminds me of something else I love; a friend who’s about eleven and who has birthday parties, on their hatch days, for her six chickens! She carries the chicken of honor, tucked under her arm, to the park and her sister and friends bring the other birds and balloons. Her friends, those without feathers, bring gifts of various kinds of seeds and live bugs. The packages are unwrapped and the birthday song is sung, and when all the party birds gobble up the gifts and other party favors, the chicken of honor leads a parade around the park, followed by a looong sting of strangers. And where did my friend dig up a looong line up followers? During the gift giving phase people show up with questions like, iron filings to a magnet. “Can I touch it?” “Do they bite?” “What IS that?” “Are you sure?'” ” I’ve never seen a chicken before,what does it do?”
And what DOES a chicken do? Chickens make dirt, and that reminds me of another story but you can find that on Amazon it’s titled, “Gracie’s Grandfather Makes Trouble”  nancymauerman.com

I’m rewriting a Paul, Anna and Iva Lou the dragon story called, “Superman And The Bad Mermaid Queen” (with a picture sample below). I always have a lot to say, and even more to imply, in my picture books and consider them similar to old fairy tales in that regard. I call them bed time novels for kids and adults, with pictures.
I’m constantly carving my words down because only a limited number will fit under an illustration and it seems to take just about as much effort to make things small as big. During this process of making several big ideas fit into a few words I eliminate many. Amy, my computer magician, calls me in this phase, an anti- author. See Amazon.com  for all my books.   nancymauerman.com