Five Things You Don't Know about CC

Five Things You Don’t Know About Christie Craig
(Previously seen at BookLovers Blog Spot)

Howdy,

I have so much to tell you about Christmas, but it's not over at my house yet. Tomorrow is Christmas at my place with my daughter, son-in-law and grandbaby. So I'll catch up with you guys later and fill you in on all the gifts I got. You will love what I got from hubby! Okay, now here's a blog about a few things you might not know about me. Happy New Year guys!

1) The thing I mostly dreamed about being as a child was adopted.


Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t abused, or mistreated. I was just a misfit—the girl sandwiched between two brothers. I didn’t make farting sounds with my arm pits, I didn’t ask people to pull my finger, and I didn’t make weekly trips to the emergency room to get stitches. I’d catch Alabama toads and pretend they were princes; my brothers would catch them to blow them up with firecrackers. While I had my head in the clouds daydreaming, everyone else scratched their heads trying to figure out what was wrong with me.


2) The weirdest food I’ve ever eaten was toad soup in a dirt-floor restaurant.


Believe it or not, my brothers were not behind this. I was in China with my hubby and we were being treated to a fancy buffet. Hubby, a semi-germ freak, wouldn’t eat anything, so being polite I felt obligated to eat. They put just a spoonful of the unknown variety of soup in my bowl for me to taste, when I nodded my approval they dipped a huge serving into my dish and the drowned toad, cooked whole, head propped up on the lip of my bowl and its legs dangling over each side of my dish. I politely bypassed the soup to eat the fried snake. Hey…at least it didn’t look like a snake.

3) My favorite way to spend a Sunday afternoon is with a fishing pole in my hand.

Yup, I’m a closet fisherman. Very few people know that I love to fish. But I have to tell you there’s something about sitting beside a body of water with a pole clutched in my hand that brings on story plotting. I’ve gotten so many book and scene ideas while waiting for my bobber to bob. The whole dead guy in the Porta-Potty scene in Divorced, Desperate and Deceived, well, I was sitting on a boat reeling in a fish when that idea hit. How I got from catching an ugly fish, to a corpse reading a bird magazine in the Porta-Potty is even beyond me, but I’ll betcha I was dying to pee at the time. Now, this isn’t to say that I don’t take the sport of fishing seriously. Hubby says I fish hard, because I demand silence because it will scare the fish away. Also, I’m never one to set my pole down. I mean, what if I got a bite, I want to have that pole in my hands. This is battle and no way am I’m going to let the fish win. This said, I don’t like to touch the fish, so I need hubby to take it off my hook. And then I have him toss the fish back in the water, setting it free. Oh, I love to eat fish, but not the ones I catch. I have a rule, if I have to look anything in the eyes, I can’t eat it—which was the big problem with that frog in China. That thing was looking right at me.

4) The three things I suck at mostly are wrapping gifts, sewing, and spelling/spotting typos.

Not only do I suck at wrapping gifts, I hate wrapping gifts. Don’t get me wrong, I love giving, I just hate wrapping. I swear, no matter how hard I try to make them look “department-store” pretty, when I’m done with them you’d assume a man wrapped the dang thing. Seriously, I’m wrapping impaired. I think whoever came up with gift bags should win a Nobel Prize. Now sewing? Oh gosh, I’d rather clean someone’s toenails than have to use a sewing machine. Even a needle and thread has a negative effect on me. I pay the dry cleaners to hem and sew on buttons. Spelling? Yup, I know I’m a writer and people assume that writers should be able to spell. But not this dyslexic writer. Spell check and I are best friends. Of course it often lets me down. My two biggest typo/spelling errors were: (pre-published) in a scene where my hero in DD&Delicious had been beat up, thrown over a bridge and shot in the shoulder and was hiding out behind a shed and I had him “look down at his bloody shirt.” But in an unpubbed contest, I accidentally left out the letter “r” in the word “shirt.” The contest judge made the comment: “So he has internal issues, too?” The second typing faux pas was in a blog where I wrote that I was going “public” with a confession. Well, I mistyped and left out the “L” in the word public and honestly, it was not a “pubic” type of confession.

5) The worse thing I ever did to my husband (according to him) was get an emergency hysterectomy six weeks after I demanded he get a vasectomy.

I swear, he was furious. You’d have thought I personally went after his Mr. Johnson and the boys with a pair of wire cutters. He acted as if I’d decided to have this procedure just for fun and to somehow lessen the significance of his little snip-snip. I mean, if I could have gone back in and unsnipped him I would have. Amazingly, it took him longer to recover from his quick out-patient procedure than it did for my “full-blown, gut her open and yank out body parts” surgery.

So there you have it, five things you didn’t know about yours truly. What I’d like to hear you guys is either, what you dreamed about being as a child, what’s the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten, what’s your favorite Sunday afternoon pastime, what you suck at, or what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done to your hubby or boyfriend. Come on, let’s share and laugh a little.


~CC