Author Archives: Sarah Wagstaff

About Sarah Wagstaff

I am a mom, writer, musician and educator. I write sci fi/fantasy. I play flute, piano, violin and other instruments as I feel like it. I have a degree in psychology, history and flute performance. I sub and volunteer at schools K-12 grades.

Fabric Aging

Leftover fabric from curtains for old house.

Starting a new project with leftover aged curtain fabric, postponed due to broken power cord.

I like to buy fabric with the ambition of doing a project that day, but realistically the fabric sits in a box with my sewing supplies for two or more years. Fabric, to work properly, has to age you see. For example I have six yards of blue velvet that I purchased to make Christmas dresses for my three daughters, about eight years ago. It should make fantastic dresses, however since all three girls have grown in the last eight years, 6 yards is more the quantity I’d need to make them all skirts, well, realistically mini-skirts. But if I wait another eight years, I’ll only have one daughter living at home and I could use the 6 yards to make a dress.

But that daughter hates velvet and wouldn’t wear the 16-year aged vintage fabric. I’ll have to rethink this plan.

Another project was material I bought to make curtains for my daughter’s navy bedroom. The fabric was aged only a short year, when it became time to sell the house. Not to let the pale blue, with Asian-inspired dark blue trees printed fabric go to waste, after only two hours of labor I had the curtains made and hung. I enjoyed them for the last month we lived in that house. Of course I was so busy moving, performing (it was December) and packing that I only looked at them two or three times.

For my new house, one of my daughter’s rooms has a uncovered, west-facing, half-circle window, deadly in Austin summers. I’ve purchased the material, purple velvet (her pick, not mine) and have folded it neatly to age in a box next to my other fabric supplies. They can impart their wisdom of the years and their despair of ever being anything other than fabric. While I’ll contemplate the difficulty of hanging fabric on a round curtain rod.

Police Shootings – Give Us a Voice Not Violence

IMG_1390I’m horrified by the recent attacks on police officers in Baton Rouge and Dallas. I recognize that there are injustices in the executive and judicial systems of the United States, but violence is not the way to protest violence.

The time is ripe for the right voice, the voice that speaks for the pains and anguish of peoples too long oppressed. That voice will not be heard coming from behind the muzzle of a rifle. That voice will not be heard from an angry man shouting, “It’s not fair!” to an uncaring world. That voice will be heard from the mothers crying for their lost sons, husbands, daughters and fathers. That voice will be heard from a thousand heartfelt stories of how I was treated in school, at my job, on the street and even in my home, because my skin was a different color than another, because my race was different from someone else’s race.

We do judge, we do prejudge, we show prejudice. We cannot ignore hundreds of years of history between our peoples. We cannot ignore the brutality that brought many of the African Americans here to the United States. We must acknowledge the choices that our ancestors made and we must choose a different path. We must choose to overcome our internal judges, our own prejudices. We must choose to overcome our instincts to fear what isn’t us, what we perceive isn’t us. We are us.

The greatest lie is that there is an us and a them. We all hurt, we all cry, we all fear, but we also can grow. We can build, we can overcome, we can change. Give us the chance, show us the path to healing. Tell us the words that your hearts are aching to say. Tell us the words that the past has buried so deep that all that is left is pain, fear and violence. We can listen, we can change. We must. It is time.

How do you like Texas?

We moved to Texas the last week of December 2015. And since we’ve been here the question that I’ve been asked the most is “How do you like Texas?” Well… there’s the polite, “Texas is fine,” or even better, “Texas is great!” But I’m a writer and words, well… I like to use them in creative ways. How do you describe your impressions of a new place in only a sentence or two?
It’s a lot warmer. There’s half a foot of snow on the ground in Utah while it’s raining here in Texas. It’s been the hottest winter of my life, with most days in the sixties or seventies. I’ve done the week in Southern California around Christmas time before. That was novel, wearing short sleeves and no jacket even at night during the winter. I’ve only been asked about five times “Aren’t you cold?” I can remember only one day in the last two Texas months that I wore my jacket outside early in the morning. My morning routine in Utah was jacket, heavy overcoat, shoes, zip up the coat, pull the hood up and shiver to take the kids to school. Here I grab my keys and purse and if I’m feeling really lazy I use flip-flops instead of shoes. One wet Texas morning I had to wipe the dew off my side windows so I could see. Compared to the scraping ice off my windows that I was doing in December in Utah, Texas is heavenly.
H.E.B’s are everywhere here. I had never heard of the store before. No Harmon’s or Ream’s are here. Of course there are wine aisles in the grocery store. They don’t have those in Utah. I remembered them from when I lived in California as a pre-teen.
The real question they are asking “Is how do you like the people?” The people of Texas are great, they are from California, Iowa, Michigan, Utah, Georgia and some are even from Texas. I’ve been called “Ma’am” more times in the last two months than I have in the last twenty years.
I do live in an interesting city, near Austin, where the recent population growth means that I meet more transplants than Texans on any given day. Which brings me to my biggest question: How long do I need to reside here before I can claim that I’m Texan?
So when you come on by I’ll say, “Howdy you’ll. Welcome!” and then I’ll have to ask, “How do you like Texas?”

Memorial Day

Memorial Day has new meaning for me since my father, Brion Johnson, passed away several years ago. I can’t visit his grave, but this year I was able to symbolically visit by going to his twin’s grave in Pocatello, Idaho. It was a little out of the way, but I enjoyed getting to visit. I never met my uncle Brent, he died the same day he was born. I never even thought of Brent as my uncle until I was explaining to my daughter how we were related to this little baby, buried so many years before. There is only one date on the gravestone. The date that Brion and Brent were both born and that Brent passed away.

I was on my way home from visiting my sister in Boise, Idaho. She has a new baby, Charles Brion, his middle name is for my father. Charlie isn’t quite two months old yet, but he is growing well and smiles already. My daughter and I said our goodbyes and gave our last hugs to my little nephew, Charlie, before leaving for Pocatello.

His whole life, my father, shared his birthday with his twin’s death day. I never thought of it before, but that day must have been bittersweet for my grandmother. Another one of the questions I wish I had asked her before she passed away. Those hard questions, “What was it like to lose a baby and have a baby on the same day?” My father probably thought about his twin on his birthday, but he didn’t mention it to us. It was just his birthday.

Seven years ago, today, on his birthday, I saw him alive for the last time. It’s a bittersweet memory for me. Knowing that I honored his twin’s memory yesterday, makes today a little easier. Happy Birthday Dad. Happy Birthday Uncle Brent.

The Month of May

For many, May is when the weather starts to get warmer and we can go outside and play. But for me May is a blur of school activities and my late father’s birthday, as well as Memorial Day. The elementary school has their talent show, their awards assemblies and activities. The high school has their gearing up for graduation, the senior ball, the last of the fundraising. Every day has another field trip, another permission slip another piano accompanying.

Today I played for my daughter’s audition. She made it! Our Pirates of the Caribbean was up to the task. She’ll be playing a flute solo in the Sixth Grade Talent Show.

I’m also involved with the PTSA at our local high school and spent part of the day, pretending to look interested while hundreds of teenagers walked by, hoping they would come order flowers from me.

As for the birthday, my father passed away seven years ago next June. And like with any birthday of a loved deceased family member the day is very bitter sweet, mostly bitter, but there is some sweet.

So while this time of year is busy, I’m grateful for the clamor, it helps with keeping this time of year more pleasant than it has been for a while for me. Here’s to hoping that May 2016 is even better yet.

Caverns Found

I’m excited about my latest book Caverns Found. Most teenagers feel awkward about growing up and changing, but these four friends have even bigger problems. They are dragons. Or they might be dragons. Follow their adventures as they discover that growing up can be more complicated than they ever imagined.

Injury

I may have tendonitis, as with any injury as soon as you mention it, you find out lots of people have had it, It’s on my right arm, so I’m typing left-handed only. I’m hoping to not use it for a week or two to let it heal. So far the most complicated task I’ve had to do was brush my teeth left-handed. My toothbrush moves at super slow speed; up then down, up then down. Eating with chopsticks left-handed is also very awkward. I haven’t tried to cut with my left hand, I don’t trust my dexterity enough to not nick a finger. I did cut a chocolate cake up, because the incentive was great. So goodbye for now, I’m taking two weeks off to heal.

Caverns Found

I’m working on finishing Caverns Found the sequel to Ocean Lost. This book takes place in the same world as Ocean Lost and introduces new characters, Lorelai, Shalise, Ben and Joey. They live in the evergreen forests of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The story begins with friends, Lorelai and Shalise, exploring in caves near their homes. They find a secret spring and the adventure begins.

This second book, in this new series, is about overcoming inner challenges as the four friends deal with the very big problem of transformation. Children and adults will welcome this new young adult fantasy. Enjoy!

To be published late February 2015, on Amazon.com.

Fairytale Part 1

Deep in the eastern woods there lived an old woman in a small cottage. No one remembered her name, but they would go visit her from the local village if they had aches, pains or fevers. She grew flowers and medicinal herbs around her garden. One day Cecily’s mother sent her to the old woman. “Your younger brother has a fever, go to the old woman’s cottage and get some herbs.”

The young girl put on her bright blue apron and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. The sun didn’t shine well in the eastern woods and it got cold there even on bright summer days. “Follow the path to her cottage and tell the old woman that it’s for your younger brother.” Cecily nodded. She grabbed a berry basket and headed out the door. The sun was already overhead by the time that she reached the eastern woods by following the well worn road that ran through the village. Nobody else came this far unless they were going to visit the old woman and the road was only a footpath by the time that she reached the edge of the woods.

Cecily was hungry so she sat on a large boulder at the edge of the woods and pulled out a slice of bread and some goat cheese that her mother had packed for her. “Why does the old woman live so far from the village?” Cecily remembered asking her mother earlier that day.

“She likes to be alone and there are certain plants she uses that only grow in the forest.” Cecily’s mother had answered before laying a hand on Phillip’s forehead. “He’s still hot. Hurry now.”

Cecily slid off the rock and landed with both feet on the path. She paused at the edge of the woods. She liked being alone in the forest by her home, but these trees were different, darker, taller and wilder. She began to walk into the woods.

Global Warming: So Why Should I Care?

We’ve heard about it since we were young, “recycle, ride your bike instead of drive your car, conserve and plant a tree.” But we aren’t scared yet. Is global warming real? Yes. Is it something to keep us up at night? Definitely.

Why should we care? If global warming is real National Geographic, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, United Nations, and these articles from various authorities on world conditions and climate say that it is, why do we need to be concerned?

Rising temperatures will lead to major shifts in climate. Deserts will grow and spread. Coastal areas will flood. In the United States with our resources it would cause havoc to have most of the population of Florida move inland, but our infrastructure could handle it. But in India with a population of 1.2 billion, 300 million (the population of the US) of which are under the age of 14, could have half of its population displaced by coastal flooding. Their infrastructure isn’t prepared for that kind of climate change.

But that’s way over in India, why should we care here? Because they’ll have to move, putting stress on the countries around them. Hundreds of millions of people relocating will stress the global economy. Besides it shouldn’t matter if a poor person lives in India or next door, we should still be concerned for their welfare, we should still want to help.

So what can we do about it? Those things that we were taught about as children we can apply them here. But the biggest thing we can do is care. We can talk about this issue. A century might seem a long time away, but just as with airplanes flying cross country a slight course change now, can make a big difference at the end of the route. The difference between arriving in San Francisco instead of Los Angeles is a few degrees when starting from New York. Can we stop Global Warming by ending all coal burning, car emissions, and cows today? Probably not, but we can change our course by a few degrees now and make a huge difference in the next century. Give a global gift to your grandchildren. Care today.

Report on Climate Change