Difference Between an Interest, a Hobby, a Passion, an Amateur, and a Professional

I have many, many interests. I am interested in world affairs, which means I try to keep up on who is doing what to who in the world. I am interested in the stock market. I have learned a bit about it, follow the DOW and the Wall Street Journal, and can say I dabble in it, but that is it. I am interested in many subjects and reading and psychology and history and astronomy and, and, and...but that is it, I am interested in it. I learn a little bit about it, maybe keep my interest up and flowing, but that is where it ends.

Then, there are my hobbies -- I used to be a numismatist, a coin collector, and that was fun for awhile trying to hunt down a wheat or indian head penny or a mercury dime.

I still have some stamps I collected as a child, and if I pursued that to be a larger collection, I would have been considered a philatelist.

Through the years, I have learned to paint on wood, paint ceramic pieces, chalk paint, and I continue to paint ceramic pieces and paint furniture on wood with regular paint and chalk paint. Now I have added stain and fused glass to my list of hobbies. To me, these are  passive hobbies. Sometimes I do them, sometimes not. But, I do know that when I do any of these hobbies, I can lose track of time because I am focused on what I am doing. And when the project is complete, I have a great sense of accomplishment. I am proud of my work.

Really, though, I am a collector. Throughout the years, I have collected books until recently, and now I am concentrating on certain authors instead of what catches my eye. (Books are heavy and after hauling them around for half my life, I have finally learned.) When the beanie babies were in, I collected them. I have a collection of purses, and a collection of Dept. 54 Dickens Village. At one point it was light houses, and my penguin collection is to die for.

What's fun about these passive hobbies/collections is I always have something to talk about. When I see someone looking at a light house or a penguin or a book or, or, or...I can strike up a conversation, and before you know it, I have met a new friend or acquaintance. We have a common interest.

And then there are the passions. For me, there is only one passion. Writing. It is all consuming with me -- a scene, a character, a line is running through my mind all the time. I go to bed with a character, and wake up with a new idea, a new scene, a new story to write. It is who I am and who I have always been. When I did not have time to write, I was writing but not pursuing the publishing part of it. It is what I consider my drawer writing. And I have used some of it with today's writing. Now I have the time to pursue my passion -- that all consuming desire to create a story, a character, a scene, a worthwhile line. Sometimes I think my life evolves inside my head.

And because of this, I get out and pursue my hobbies so I can socialize, and talk and eat among fellow hobbyists, and friends, and acquaintances.

One hobby that I believe will turn into a passion soon is genealogy. It will have quite a few of my interests -- research and history, which are tagged with fellow genealogists, and then that will spill over to the passion of writing, to tell the stories of my ancestors. And then I will have a title of a personal historian. But all that is yet to be seen. It is in the formative stage. A side line.

When I was writing my fiction and filing it in my drawers, I would have been considered an amateur. I was not getting paid for anything, sometimes publishing in a literary journal (no compensation there), yet, I continuously learned about this type of writing. I took courses, went to workshops, hobnobbed with other fiction writers.

On the other hand, I was a paid journalist and editor. I had my own resume and cover letter business, and wrote some business pieces for people in the business world, as well as proofed, edited, and typed manuscripts for people who published books. I was a professional. I was getting monetarily rewarded for my efforts.

Then I retired from paid work. And now is my time to take an interest that turned into a hobby that turned into a passion that made me an amateur that takes me to the doorstep of being a published fiction writer, which says I am a professional fiction writer.

By George, who would have thought that that little girl of 8 who said she wanted to be a writer would have had the opportunity to watch a desire grow to the treshold of a new life.

Do you have a hobby? One that can grow into a passion?

Until next time...have a great one...

Wow! What a Week

The last time I really wrote on my blog was two weeks ago, and wow, have I been busy.

It first started with what I thought was manageable. I acted as the general contractor for a bathroom update in my master bath. Most of the work was to be done in spurts where it would have been easy for me to control, but, like life, the hurricane came and the glass people were needed elsewhere, so that part of the update was scheduled at a later date. Then, that date came and they came so late in the afternoon that they could only start. Which pushed back the other parts of the job. It's a never-ending story, so the upshot is it is done, and I do like it.

The big deal to me was I selected to have the vanity painted in a glossy royal blue. Since I am a neutral colored person, the blue was daring to me. At first, I freaked, but I like it. It makes the room look warm and cozy. I will show you all the pics and steps next week. And I'll talk about the money end of it.

When the jobs were complete, I had approximately three days to put my house back together, clean it, and buy groceries for my upcoming guests. I worked morning, noon, and night, and all was completed by Wednesday evening when my guests arrived. I was ready to enjoy their company instead of working. There was one fast rule -- if you want something, help yourself. Everything was there as I anticipated their basic needs and wants.

I hosted a 5-girl slumber party for high school classmates. It was so much fun. Since we are way beyond the legal age to drink, I bought a lot of wine. Something must be wrong because I have a lot of wine left. We ate. And ate. And ate. And we talked, and talked and talked. And we laughed, and laughed and laughed. Since I have seen these girls throughout my life, I did not cry, but there were a couple who cried and cried when they saw each other. It had been a very long time -- since nursing school together or as we moved away and lost touch. It was a great week.

We ate at great restaurants (will talk about them later) and the best was we made a glass paper weight at the Morean Arts Center in St. Petersburg, Florida. I could get hooked on making glass paper weights! Will talk about the artists community in St. Pete and the night making the paper weight after I share the bathroom redo.

There is just so much to share. Now, though, it's back to reality. Laundry, ceramics, stain glass, appointments, regular living.

Until next week...have a good one.

I Will Return Next Week

I Want the Mom and Pop Shop Back

I am tired, very, very tired.

For the past week, I have work people in and out of my house, painting, new bath counter top, new windows, new ceiling fans, new shower door -- in other words, I braved another re-make job for my new home. All I wanted was to update my master bath (all pics will be next week, as nothing is completed yet), which led to hurricane windows (I am preparing...) which led to new curtains for the windows, which led to a new ceiling fan....

And I am tired.

Mind you, I am not doing any of the work, but I have acted as the general contractor, and have prepared and put back together.

Most went off without a hitch, except continually being pushed back due to scheduling. Then there is the plumbing. All I wanted was to have the faucet installed on the new bowl. It's been the fourth time he has come out. Really??? Really!!! In my hey-day, I have torn apart a bathroom and put it back together, I have watched many a faucet being put in, and really, anyone who owns a computer has access to You Tube which will show you what you don't know and want to learn. But this guy can't figure it out. I went to the place where I purchased the counter top, faucet and plumbing service (big box shop), and complained about the plumbing. This particular big box shop only deals with one small company who has one man for our area. While at this big box shop complaining and seeing about getting someone else to come, I learned that this company they work with could send another person out next week sometime, but he didn't know anything about plumbing. Really??? Really!!!
Upshot -- the guy came back today, and he said it is fixed again. I will run the water tomorrow, and am prepared for anything.

I want the mom and pop shop back. I knew the mom or the pop or the aunt or uncle or the daughter or son of the mom and pop, and I knew that when they said they would come, they came. And if it wasn't fixed right the first time (which it usually was), it was definitely fixed the second time.

The other thing about the mom and pop shop was I knew the quality I was getting because I knew who was making it. Back then, and I am not ancient, not everything was made in China -- people actually took pride in their work and I knew where it was made. In my hometown, there was Ropers (stove, microwaves, lawn mowers, etc.), Armstrong (flooring), A.O. Smith (water heaters), and General Foods (dog food), Today, I believe Armstrong is the only original left. And the mom and pop shops were replaced with the big box shop with brands that I have never heard of let alone know where they are made or how they are made.

I want the mom and pop shop back, the products made from people who live in the same town, and a plumber who knows how to install a faucet the first time.

But, right now, I am tired. Very, very tired.

Until Monday...have a great weekend.

Do We Change As We Age?

I don't think so. I think that guy who sat with his feet on the coffee table will always sit with his feet on the coffee table. I think that girl who sat with her leg crossed swinging it will always sit with her leg crossed swinging it. Habits die hard.

The little girl who sits in wonder with her hands on her cheeks, is still the same little girl when she grows up with her hands on her cheeks.

Sure, the wonder may go from her eyes as we learn the many lessons life teaches us, but somewhere deep inside that little girl lives.

That is one of the wonders about aging -- we never really believe that we are as old as the years tell us we are. I remember asking my mother when she was in the 70s if she felt old, and she said no. I asked her again in her 80s, and she said no. Then, in her 90s, she said, "You know, Mary, I'm getting old." I asked her what it felt like, and she said, "It's hell getting old," explaining that her body was wearing out. It had nothing to do with her mind, her experiences, her attitude, the aging process was that her body was wearing out.

So, yes, we may have a few more wrinkles. But, I think some of those wrinkles are from the life we live. If a person works in the sun most days of life, there will be wrinkles. Smoking, drinking, staying up all night -- you know, the vices of the young -- will show on your hands and face if you carry those habits into later years. It's really quite simple, keep the old skin oiled, and the wrinkles don't show up for years.

And if you have good genes, maybe for a long, long time.

I think a lot of everything depends on your genes. Al worked outside in the sun the majority of his life -- he had very few wrinkles at the age of 69. Then there is Sue, who sat in the sun every day she could, and she started getting wrinkles when she was in the late 40s.

They say you can tell the age of someone by looking at their hands. I am always putting moisturizer on my hands to keep people guessing. Don't get me wrong, I embrace my age, but, really, it's no one's business how old I am or am not. And excuse me, but please, no stereotyping for me. I have heard people treat you differently when you tell them you are 70. Really!

REALLY???





I may be exercising with sweat pants and looking a bit gray, but in my mind, I look like this:

And shoot, could I go. So what's the difference now. Not much when I get moving, but for me the moves are gentler. Don't let that kid anyone, though -- many a lady I know are taking Zumba classes, followed with Yoga and a lap or two around the pool. I'd like any 40 year old to keep up with some of these ladies here!

We may look different, but in actuality
we are really 40. So, move over 70, this 40 year old is going to go for the next 30 years. And change. I don't think so. Who I was and what I did yesterday is the same as who I am and what I do today. I'll change in my 90s, thank you!

Until tomorrow...have a great day.

Laughter IS the Best Medicine

If there is anything I like to do above all, it is laugh. And there is nothing like it. Really. What's even better than a good laugh is a rip roarin' belly laugh. The kind that makes you pee your pants a bit and hurts your insides because you are laughing so hard and you can not stop. Now, that is a rip roarin' one!

Think of those rip roarin' ones like a massage on the inside, kneading those organs. A deep tissue massage on the inside. I like that idea!

First time I knew about beneficial laughter I was in my 20s. I heard of this man named Norman Cousins, and the story I heard was that he was diagnosed with cancer and he cured himself with laughter. I heard he watched The Three Stooges for some of those belly laughs.Well, that is not really what happened. He did not have cancer, but he did have Ankylosing Spondylitis, a rare disease of the connective tissue. And he was given a few months to live.

But, he thought not. Instead of accepting his death sentence, he holed himself up in a hotel room next to the hospital, and he took high doses of Vitamin C (I am sure there was more involved than this Vitamin) and he laughed. In the beginning he was in such excruciating pain that he could not rest let alone sleep. What he found was when he laughed those hard rip roarin' belly laughs for 10 minutes, it gave him 2 hours of pain free sleep. The year was 1964, and within 6 months he was back on his feet. Within two years, he was back to work as the editor of the Saturday Review. His death sentence was commuted and he lived until 1990. That story always stuck with me, and if you want to know the details go to his book, An Anatomy of An Illness.

Why is that? How can a person basically cure himself with laughter?


We know that stress and inflammation have a lot to do with diseases. Laughter, besides massaging your insides, also is good in reducing stress and tensions. Think about it -- don't you feel good, stress free, after a good laugh?

Not only that, but it can leave your muscles relaxed for up to 45 minutes after a good laugh.

It boosts your immune system (this helps fight inflammation) and it boosts your energy.



Another benefit is when you laugh with people, it binds people together. People always remember good times and they want more.

If it binds people together, then why can't it cut through conflict? Maybe that is why some people have nervous laughter when they are in a fight. Does it help? I would think it depends on what type of a conflict it is, but taking any serious confrontation a bit lighter may help a bit with the tension.

When two people as a couple laugh together, their happiness increases and that laughter is a form of intimacy. I know that was the way it was with Al and I. Everyday, after I came home from work, we would sit at the kitchen table and play rummy. It was more than a game, it was everything. As I have said before, I am a serious person, and Al would ask me about my day, and I would tell him and we would discuss the personalities of work, then he would start cheating (there would be just the two of us and he would look in my hand or pull the cards from my hand). He would simply be a prankster and he would get me to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. My day was so much better, and I always looked forward to going home and being with him, laughing at the first moments at home. But he could always make me laugh, from the April Fool's Day pranks to making me jump with his plastic spiders to telling me funny stories. He was the best person for me. He made me laugh.

Today, without him around, I love to go to comedy clubs, watch sitcoms on TV, and share a good joke.

Here's one for you.


There was this man out on a date with his wife and they were driving home after dinner and a night of dancing. Soon, there is a police car with siren blaring following him. The man pulls over and and the cop gets out of the car, goes to the man, and asks him why he thinks he's getting pulled over. The man says he hasn't a clue. The policeman told him he was doing 50 in a 35 zone. The man says, "no, I was not speeding." The police explains that he had him on radar and then the cop looks at the woman and asks her if she thinks the man was speeding. She responds, "Sir, we have been married for over 25 years, and in those 25 years, I have learned not to question him when he's been drinking."


"The human race has only one really effective weapon and that is laughter"  -- Mark Twain

Until next time...laugh and the world will laugh with you...

It's All About the Weather

Here, in Florida, we are bracing for a devastating hurricane. Already, it has killed 140 people, mostly in Haiti. Poor Haiti. They are always getting hit. It seems that they never truly recover before another devastation hits again. This category 4 hurricane named Matthew has already hit Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, Bahamas, and is now heading to the east coast of Florida.

After it leaves Florida's east coast and inland damaged and bruised, it will head to Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina. Many family members live in S. Carolina, and I keep texting them, "are you leaving or staying?" So far, all are staying. One says he is keeping an eye on the storm to see if it lessens in intensity. One says no matter what, he is staying. All of them have lived the majority of their lives in hurricane country, and the one who is staying went through Hugo. He said he went to his parents house to help them board up when the winds started, and he was horribly bitten by ants. He told the story that he could not get them off, but he stuck it out and kept boarding the windows for his parents.

With the water comes so much. Ants, sure, and snakes, and alligators, and rats. Then, there is the mud, the debris, the hopeless feeling of what has been lost and needs to be rebuilt.

I remember when Andrew hit Homestead, Florida, a friend of mine had a trucking company in Tampa, and he made a small fortune hauling lumber to Homestead.

Then there are the mosquitos, and now the Zika carrying mosquitos. And cholera.

I turn on the news and see the mass migration from the east coast. And in S. Carolina, the governor closed I-26 Eastbound and all lanes headed west, away from the coast. I thank God that I am safe for the time, and brace for torrential downpours of rain. It will be a very gloomy day tomorrow, and it has already started, it's just pouring outside. But the skies gloom is so much different what Matthew has brought and will bring to many people.

Nature has a way of telling us who is really in charge. I have never known anyone who could outwit, outbuy, outluck a hurricane, tornado, earthquake, tsunami, horrendous rainstorm, lightning, blizzard, sleet storm. Nature commands, and we humans better get out of the way.

So, here I sit, inside a house with electricity (for the time being anyway) -- the governor already said Florida's East Coast will lose electricity -- watching the devastation on the TV and hoping that most people can escape nature's wrath.

Until next week...have a safe and good weekend...

Are There Enough Hours in the Day?

I say NO. I never have enough hours in the day to complete everything I want. I wish I had enough time to even do more; I am trying to minimize and streamline my life so I can fit more in, but it's hard. There is simply too little time for everything I want to accomplish.

Because I always feel rushed, I decided to take a look at my time.

A day consists of             24 hours

I sleep and wake up after 9 hours
I spend about                    2 hours on grooming and exercise
I spend  another                2 hours on food preparation and eating
I blog and research for      3 hours
I watch TV, read, or do  
puzzles for                        4 hours
                                        20 hours total



That leaves me 4 hours to do "other stuff".

How in the world did I maintain a job for all those years? It seems that I always had time to do everything I wanted and still had time to spare. What is the difference? In the above tally, I did not even include grocery shopping, cleaning or doing laundry. Then, there are all my projects and groups I belong to -- ceramics, stain glass, writing groups, DAR, genealogy -- and socializing, writing, painting my furniture. researching where to travel to next....the list is endless.

So, there are not enough hours in my day. What do I do? It depends on what my priority is. When I am writing a story and really into it, not the research or characterizations or outlining, but the actual writing, most of the above tally is cut to the core, and I have about 6-8 hours a day for the research and writing. At that moment, writing is the only thing important to me, not eating or reading or TV or mind puzzles. I do know I need my sleep, and I must exercise during the day, and I must be well groomed because it just makes me feel better. People know not to call during that time, and my life is lived in the characters and the story. And then I ascend from my cocoon and walk and laugh among the living again.

The rest -- the ceramics, stain glass, painting furniture -- is on a priority basis. At this moment I am finishing up the ceramics bowls and the stain glass car because they are Christmas presents. I now know I will not have time to make a tic-tac-toe board I wanted to make, but next year. Next year. It will go on my list of to-dos.

The others are clubs that meet once or twice a month, so that is no big thing. Wish I had the time to get more involved, but not now. It will go on my list of to-dos.

Travel is stopping my every day life and, well, living somewhere else for a week or two or three. And socializing are plays and parties and theatre and are sporadic.

If I could just have another 8 hours in the day, you know, the hours I spend sleeping, I would have plenty of time to do even more....or, would I? I doubt it. There will never be enough hours in my day to do everything I want to do. I would rather have it like that, though, than watching the clock tick seconds into minutes.

Until tomorrow...have a great day...

Doctors and Nurses and Physician Assistants and Nurse Practitioners, oh My....

There is no doubt that the medical field has changed in the United States. Doctors have more paper work than ever, more demands are put on them to do more with less, and they are so overworked, that I can not even comprehend that their burn out rate is not higher than it is. I have seen that 51% of doctors surveyed lack the initial enthusiasm they had when they entered the field. Then, medscape.com had a great report dated January 13, 2016, where anywhere between 40-55% of doctors surveyed said they suffered from burnout -- that lack of enthusiasm for a job. Actually, with the burnout, the career becomes simply a job. Lots of difference there, folks.

The first time I encountered medical burnout was when I was tutoring at a university, and I had a student who was a pediatric oncology nurse. She said she could not do it any longer, it was too hard to watch one child after the other die, and she had to quit. Not because she was not good at her career, not because she was not knowledgeable about the medicine; simply, it got the best of her. Somewhere out there is a nurse turned teacher, and I am sure she has had a fulfilling second career.

So, how can we help? We, the public, continue to get sick, to develop symptoms of chronic or fatal diseases, and we need the medical team's knowledge to guide us on that journey.

There are two ways that are relieving some of the burden doctors face today. These people are called Physician Assistants and Nurse Practitioners. So, what's the difference?

Physician Assistants are what I would call the doctor's right hand man (or woman). PAs have a lot of education, but fall short of the mandatory residencies the doctors must fulfill to become board certified. PAs have an undergraduate degree, enter a PA program that lasts about 2-3 years, and then have a one year clinical rotation, gaining experience in clinics, physicians' offices, and long-term care facilities.

They are an employee, which means they do not take calls after hours, do not make hospital calls (although that is changing), and do not have the hours of paperwork the doctor is responsible for. In other words, the doctor is the supervisor, and once the day is done, the PA can go home and have a regular life.

They basically do what a doctor does except perform surgery. They may be able to assist in surgery (I know my orthopedic doctor employed a PA who assisted in my surgery), but they can NOT perform the surgery.

They are nationally certified and must continue their education forever, which means they must take so many hours of continuing education hours every so many years. Whatever their state says.

Doctors make around 200-300,000 a year, and for that they get to work 24/7. Lucky them! A PA's starting salary is around 80,000 a year, and the average is 90-113,000 a year, and they get to go home at the end of the day. Good job!

A Nurse Practitioner is different from a PA in many ways. The first and foremost way is they do not have to have a doctor as a supervisor, they can practice independently. When I first learned about this, I thought of the 60 Minute program showing the nurses who went around in a really, really used RV in the Appalachians helping those without any sort of medical care.

NPs first start off with an RN degree, then they have to have 1-2 years experience before getting a NP Masters Degree, and then have between 750-1400 clinical hours. If you would calculate that in a 40-hour work week, it would be up to 35 weeks in clinical practice.

The other big difference between the PA and the NP is the PA is a generalists -- once he gets licensed, he can go anywhere and work in any of the medical fields he wants; once the NP gets into the program, he must specialize in a certain medical field, such as family practice, psychiatry, or gynecology (I had a NP who worked in my gynecologist's office, and she was good, very, very good).

They, too, are nationally certified, but they also need to be re-certified every five years. They also make a good wage -- on average 82-96,000 a year. And they get to go home, too, at the end of the day.

I am all for doctors. I will help them in any way I can, so when there is a minor adjustment to my body, I definitely will see a PA. I really don't see too many NPs, but I would imagine they are in more clinics or in rural areas without the benefits of a doctor at hand. And I am also an advocate of my doctor taking time off. I figure if you have to work 24/7, then you should be able to take more vacation time. I want my doctor to not burn out, and to be relaxed, so go, enjoy, and let the PA or NP take over for a week every so often.

If you want more information about these two career choices you can visit AAPA.org for the Physician Assistant, and AANP.org for the Nurse Practitioner.

Until Wednesday...have a great day...