Fay Risner's Blog, page 21

Book Signing Coming Soon

As an author, have you ever gone to town wide yard sales and been invited to talk about your books? It happened to me recently. My husband and I drove close to fifty miles from home to spend the day with his sister. She had a map of where all the yard sales were. It had been years since we had stopped at yard sales. I thought there wasn’t anything I needed bad enough to spend the time going from house to house. The one motivation I had was that the town library was having another book sale. We had stopped at the library book sale in June during the town festival. I bought several books. So with the hope that I could purchase more books, we stopped again the first of August.

My sister-in-law had bought books from me to donate to the library. She was helping me promote. The library director was behind the makeshift counter in the library garage while we looked through the rows of paper and hard back books. She recognized my name when my sister-in-law introduced me to her. The director asked me if I would like to come do a book signing for the library’s book club members. That took me by surprise. I don’t do too many signings so I said sure. The director ordered books for the group which I am going to deliver Thursday and spend time with my sister-in-law. She has graciously offered to fix my husband and me lunch again while we visit her.

The book chosen by the director out of all the genres I have written is Neighbor Watchers-Amazing Gracie Mysteries-Book one in the series. The book can be found on Amazon, B&N and Smashwords in paperback and ebook form.
The book is about two elderly women in 1903 in a small town, Locked Rock, Iowa. They live in a mansion that the owner turned into a rest home for women. Gracie Evans, an old maid farmer, lacks social graces. Her friend, Melinda Applegate, a former seamstress, is gentle and ladylike. The two of them bicker back and forth as they sit on the front porch of the mansion. Gracie tore holes in the vines that shade the porch so the two women can sit in their rockers and spy on the neighbors without being seen. It is the only activity they have that keeps them from being bored. One hot summer evening, they’re on the porch after dark because it is too hot to sleep. One of the neighbors across the street happens to be a beautiful, young woman that makes her living as a lady of the evening. Gracie and Melinda’s fascination lies in the fact that they know many of the town’s married men that sneak into the neighbor’s house. Late on that evening when the women were trying to stay cool, they see someone come out of the neighbor’s house that gives them cause to wonder. The next morning, the butter and egg man finds the lady of the evening dead. Gracie and Melinda are sure they know the killer from what they saw the night before, but they don’t have proof. If they go to the sheriff, he would just give the killer cause to come after them. So while they try to find proof, Gracie, Melinda and the other residents of Moser Mansion Rest Home for Women are stalked by the killer. You as the reader and the two elderly women are the only ones who know the killer.

The book is humorous as well as suspenseful. Amazon has a great review of the series. A must read if you want laugh out loud stories told in a simpler time.

Date for the book signing to be announced later.

A Sunday Afternoon Tour Through My Flowers

We had a fun visit last Sunday with my husband’s brother and his friend, Mary. They brought pictures of their Colorado vacation. The scenery was beautiful, and the sky was the prettiest blue. Before we looked at the pictures, I gave Mary a tour of my flowers. She likes flowers as much as I do. While I talked about the different varieties, Mary took my pictures and gave me copies so I want to share them with everyone.

There is a story behind most of my flowers. Mary asked how I could remember so many details. I told her that wasn’t my first tour.

 

Picking Berries Now And In The Past

I’ve decided there is one good thing about having rain almost every day in Iowa. That thought came to me while I was picking red raspberries. The vines hold plenty of berries this year for me, the birds and raccoons. My patch is attached to the field fence behind my garden which is close to the house.

 

This morning’s pick had me thinking about the 1950′s when Mom used to take my younger brother, John, and me to the blackberry patch in the pasture about a mile from home. That was in southern Missouri near Schell City. That was a hot job and tiresome job. We would get a cool spell about the time the blackberries bloomed. We called that blackberry winter. Problem was, the cool spell didn’t last until the berries ripened so we had to pick in the heat.

 

Drummers, which you know as salesmen, used to go door to door more than they do now. Some of them Mom liked to see come. She didn’t shop much, and it was convenient to have the salesmen come to her. One was the Watkins salesman. Mom liked Watkins vanilla flavoring to put in her angel food cakes. To sell Mom a larger bottle, the salesman convinced her that the flavoring was good to keep away chiggers if rubbed on the places chiggers liked to harbor. So with blackberry picking in mind, Mom bought a bottle.

 

Early every other morning in summer heat, we started for the berry patch just as quick as Mom and Dad finished milking and the other chores. We hoped to beat the hottest part of the day. Before we left, Mom took a few minutes to prepare John and me with the flavoring. We had to wear our straw cowboy hats to protect us from the sun, a long sleeve shirt to protect us from the briars and our rain boots with our pant legs tucked in to ward off bugs and snakes. With all that, we were hot before we started and smelled like sugar cookies.

 

We walked down a lane between two fields that the milk cows ambled down twice a day, going and coming. When we reached the pasture, Mom warned us not to get near the creek. One of the cows had a big lump on her neck from a water moccasin snake bite. She was drinking in the creek when she got bit. The poisonous bite didn’t kill the cow, but she felt miserable for awhile. Once in a while, we would see a black snake or a grass snake. Sometimes, a copperhead sunning near where we walked. John and I knew without being warned to watch where we stepped. We’d get excited when we saw a snake and moved faster.

 

Dad was a story teller, and he didn’t mind stretching the truth. I suppose that is where I’ve gotten my love of writing books. As long as I’m writing fiction I can stretch the truth as much as I want. One evening, he puffed on his pipe as he claimed a neighbor had just told him about a black snake as large as a man’s arm. A farmer mowed the tail off the snake when he was mowing his hay field. The snake had been seen by others in different pastures close to our farm, standing up on his flat stubby end. Dad said the snake was tall enough to look a man in the eye. The thought of coming face to face with that black snake in our pasture that was taller than we were didn’t exactly make John and me eager to go berry picking.

 

The patch was on the far side of the pasture. Each of us had our own bucket so we scattered out around the thicket. The bugs were different back then. Long slender ones with hinged necks made popping sounds. We called them snapping bugs. Large gray bugs smelled bad when we picked them out of the pail so we called them stink bugs. Today I kept brushing away spiders. Had one go up my long sleeve shirt and had to turn the sleeve wrong side out to get rid of it. I didn’t see any small, black beetles today which is good. They like to eat anything sweet. Usually when my berries are gone, they burrow into the sweet corn ears. Mosquitoes buzzed around my ears, making me wonder which of them might carry one of the viruses talked about on the news. I don’t remember mosquitoes on hot, sunny days in the Missouri blackberry patch. Too dry there.

 

Mom called buying groceries doing her trading. The reason for that was most of the berries we picked, blackberries or strawberries, Mom took to Dickbreder’s Grocery store and traded for supplies. She bought just what she had to have; sugar, flour and coffee and paid the difference.

 

My mother canned the food we couldn’t eat fresh. We had an icebox for years, and finally we had an electric refrigerator with a very small freezer that held a couple of ice trays and a package or two of meat from our meat supply at the Meat Locker. Though I can vegetables, I’m lucky to have a large freezer that holds all the extra berries and vegetables when I don’t want to can. Having today’s conveniences makes preserving the food we raise a lot less work than in my mother’s day.

Rose Capitol of Iowa, State Center, Iowa

Rose Capitol of Iowa, State Center, had the annual festival this last weekend. My husband and I joined his sister and family for the festivities. A sprinkle threatened early on, but that only caused a cloudy sky and a light breeze which made for a comfortable day.

Rose Capitol of Iowa, State Center, had the annual festival this last weekend. My husband and I joined his sister and family for the festivities. A sprinkle threatened early on, but that only caused a cloudy sky and a light breeze which made for a comfortable day. We were thrill to find out our great niece was in the parade in one of the bands. I took a picture but it didn’t do the band justice with the crowd in front of us.

 We found a spot under a large oak tree to watch the parade and as luck would have it, the library behind us was having a book sale in their garade right next to us. Before the parade started, my sister-in-law, Kathy, and I went to the sale and came out with a few books. Kathy noticed the sign that said if we came back the last hour of the sale before noon we could have all the books we could carry for a dollar. Our luck held. The parade lasted an hour and we went back to the book sale and came out with full sacks. .
By that time it was time to eat. The fire station had BBQ pork sandwiches, chips and pop. Against the wall was a church table with pie slices. We got in the long line to buy lunch then walked back to the shade of a tree in the one room school house yard. The picnic bench was a perfect place to rest while we ate.

 

Kathy and I took a tour of the school, Washington Township Number 6 while Harold and Ron enjoyed the shade. If we had stayed long enough the teacher had a spelling bee on the hour. We picked up a pamphlet that explained about the school’s original site and the history of one room schools in Iowa. The school is just the first in the block of restored historical buildings. 

 

 

We toured a 1930′s barber shop. I found a way to get in one of the pictures. Next stop was an antique store filled to the max with merchandise and people. The place was a maze of dead ends and crowded with lookers, I didn’t have time to really give the store a good going through so would really like to go back and look again some day. Next was a look in the funeral home wedged between the stores at a quilt show. We were to judge which quilt we liked the best by putting the number into the wooden box used for sympathy cards. Kathy explained the main funeral home is now in Marshalltown. This building is used for visitations. The quilts were lovely. I always look them over carefully ideas for my quilt making. We liked two quilts. One was a blue and white block design and the other was titled Civil War with much detail on it. The sign said we could only vote for one so I voted for the Civil War quilt, and Kathy voted for the blue and white quilt.

Next was Watson’s grocery store. I love picking up handouts. Instead of trying to take pictures, I can use the pictures in the handout. The store was stocked just the way it would have been in 1895. They had the largest ice box I had ever seen. When electricity came, the owner had the ice box hooked up with a refrigeration unit. The store was operated until the owner died in 1979 and not reopened until the citizens of State Center bought it to be part of the historical block. I was impressed since most small towns let their stores remain empty and run down. State Center decided to take advantage of the town’s history. We were told that bus tours come to see the stores from Branson, Missouri. Since I like writing books from the early 1900′s, all the details of these stores are interesting to me. Much of what I saw could be used in my Amazing Gracie Mystery series.
Next was a flea market along the sidewalk.

 

By then it was mid afternoon and the sun was beating down. We walked back to our pickup which was parked by the rose garden park. This picture from a distance doesn’t do the beauty of all those roses justice, but you get the idea. On Main Street are many rose beds in front of the stores. We’ve had plenty of rain to keep the roses blooming at the right time for the festival. If you ever get a chance to be in Iowa on the third weekend in June stop in. There were events planted from Thursday until Sunday.

 

Goats and a Lamb Cookbook

The goats are thriving and as with most animals think the grass or my vegetables are greener on the other side of the fence. They have horns which doesn’t hinder the goats from sticking their heads through the woven wire, but when they realize their mistake they can’t get back out of the hole. It takes one of us to twist their heads just right so the horns will come through the hole.

We’re still having rain or showers almost every day here. This morning the shower was just enough to wet the surface and now when the sun comes out the air is humid. The showers are good for the garden. The vegetables are growing fast so I can see the plants from the house now. The strawberries like the showers so I should have a bumper crop this year on my small patch. I’m looking forward to that.

Someone said to me recently that I’ve always got a book or two or three in the working stage. As long as I’ve been talking about goats I want to tell you about my cookbook. Years ago, I asked sheep producers cooks around Iowa and some in Minnesota for their lamb recipes. Once I had the recipes in order, I sent them off to get cookbooks printed for my county sheep producer group to use for promotion. In those days, I was secretary then president of the group. The group disbanded in the early nineties. I’d sent the cookbook into a call in radio show for recipes. By sending the book, the host would give us one free advertising so people would know where to buy the book. All the cookbooks sent to him were placed on shelves. He once said my cookbook was so well put together that it made it easy for him to find a recipe. The recipes came from sheep producers used to cooking lamb so the dishes were good ones. The host of the show said out of all the cookbooks sent in the lamb cookbook was the only one he ever took home and kept. Since I still had a copy of the cookbook I thought it was time I put it on the market again.

 

Cover back

Looking for easy to fix lamb dishes and lamb recipes new to you. Try this cookbook filled with recipes. They are all furnished by Midwest sheep producers that have perfected lamb recipes used for their families, company, promotions at state fairs, county fairs and grocery stores. The recipes are easy, and most of the ingredients you have on hand. Go to the index in the back of the book to find the recipes divided up into different categories so you don’t have to search long for what you want. Find soups, salads & appetizers, or main dishes. Want to cook a particular cut? Look under chops, ground, left over lamb, kabobs, leg, liver, ribs, roasts, kidneys, shanks, steaks, or tongue. Want a quick dish? Look in the Microwave lamb section. Have company coming? Try the dishes for a crowd and in the miscellaneous section find sauces and marinades. I’ve been a sheep producer since 1978, and I know these recipes to be good since I’ve used many of them at promotions and at home.

 This cookbook is for sale on Amazon now and will be other places later. Right now I’m spending much of my time outside. It’s so good to be able to get out of the house after a long winter.

I hope everyone is having a good Memorial Day holiday. More from me later

 

 

 

The Three Frozen Kings

I grew up listening to the weather warning from my elders that we had to watch out for the Three Frozen Kings in the middle of May when we put in our garden early. That is at least three days of a cold spell that makes the days miserable and either frosts or freezes at night. I’ve heard some say that if we’re really having a global warming this warning should shortly be a thing of the past. Not this year! I’m hear to tell you I’m feeling the affects of the Three Frozen Kings this week. I actually turned our furnace on this morning after being cold for two days and nights. Looks like Sunday, if the weather man is right, before The Kings get over being angry.
Three Frozen Kings, is a Czech legend that reminds us to protect our garden plants against a possible last frost in the middle of May. We need to be prepared to cover the plants with blankets, sheets, milk jugs or plastic coffee cans with the bottoms out. I use the coffee cans since we are coffee drinkers and put the lids on when I hear the frost warning.
The story is the three kings, (Pankrac on May 12, Servac on May 13 and Bonifac on May 14) were
frozen when the temperature dropped while they were fishing at sea. They couldn’t have been in the same boat if they went fishing on different days. If the other two kings saw Pankrac was already a Popsicle, don’t you think that would have clued them that they should go home. Of course, they could have done a good deed and towed Pankrac back at the same time so they didn’t have to spent centuries getting all worked up over what happened next. On May 15, St. Zofie must have discovered the three kings were missing and knew what happened to them. He went after them with a kettle of hot water to thaw out the three frozen kings. I suppose that means the days were going to get warmer on the 15th after St. Zofie poured hot water on the kings. Someone should tell Saint Zofie it didn’t work this year. Today sure isn’t any warmer than yesterday or the day before, but if this spring is like the last two, soon enough we will go into 100 degree days and drought. Do you suppose Saint Zofie had the water too hot?

This many years into the future, you would think that Pankrac, Servac and Bonifac would have forgotten about their frozen experience by now. After all, as far as I know, no one insisted that they had to go fishing in bad weather. That makes the experience their own fault. If they are mad at Saint Zofie for the scalding water baths, no need to keep taking it out on us, because Saint Zofie didn’t check the water temperature.

The legend was brought to Iowa by Czech immigrants, who found Iowa similar to their home country. I don’t happen to be Czech, but that was so many generations ago, most older folks only remember that their parents told them the story. They don’t know where it came from. I was born in Missouri, and I know the tale made the rounds there.

If the last three days are any indication of the mood the Three Frozen Kings are in right now, we best pay attention and do as they say. Not only do I need to cover my plants, but I have to get my winter coat back on just to please those three frozen kings so I can go to the garden to cover the plants. We’d have all been so much happier if Saint Zofie hadn’t rescued the kings and could just take our chances with the weather.

I had a great Mother’s Day. I’ve posted on Facebook the pretty pansy basket my son brought me for Mother’s Day. The flowers are much brighter than they look in the picture. It was such a gloomy Tuesday that even the flash didn’t help the picture. I could have submitted a picture with me in it but I didn’t want to rub it in that I was outside with my chore coveralls and stocking cap on. I figured everyone around here already felt cold enough.

Busy Spring and a Children picture book release – Mr. Quacker The Odd Duck

 

 

 

The year is still young, and I feel like there is more I should have accomplished by now. Have you ever felt that way? We live on an acreage with plenty of room for flowers and a large garden. Trouble is grass had taken over my flower beds. My plan was to dig up the perennials and replant them. Good idea except they were already peeking through the ground when most of April was rainy. The few days at the end of the month that I could work and the first week in May had me putting in long hours pushing a spade under grass root infested flower blubs. I took a break only long enough at lunch time to cook a meal. Might not have done that but my husband thinks he has to eat three times a day. By evening, I relaxed in my recliner, thinking I’d rest and watch television. Right! I made it through the first of each show and missed the ending. No need to ask my husband how the story ended. I’ve tried that, and he said he didn’t know exactly. Which translate to he was asleep in his recliner, too.

We did manage to get our large garden planted in two days. I started several varieties of peppers and tomatoes in February so I had great looking plants to set out. For protection from the wind, my husband cut the bottom out of plastic coffee cans to set over plants. With warm, sunny days comes a 25 mile wind that never seems to stop. Gusts blew over the wheel barrel and spilled the weeds and grass I threw in it. However, my biggest garden threat turned out not to be the wind, but the chickens. The hens have eaten 8 of my tomato plants. I’ve reset some of the onion sets two or three times. I hate to falsely accuse the hens of all the destructive mischief. Could have been the robins that keep an eye on the strawberry patch which is blooming.

It does feel so good to know the snows might be over. We still might see a frost or freeze, but if we don’t we should have a great fruit crop again this year. The apricot bloomed first, and now the plums, pear, cherry and apple trees are blooming. In the flower beds are tulips, hyacinths, and wild lavender geraniums. Plus, we have cut three two gallon buckets of asparagus so far.

What have I been working on since publishing the last book, Christmas with Hover Hill? In past years, I’ve written many short stories for contests. Quite a few of them I placed with. I went through the stories and found one that would make a children picture book. It didn’t take me long to assemble farm pictures and revamp the short story to come up with Mr. Quacker The Odd Duck. I always go back to what my writing instructor told me. Write what you know about.

This short story was based on a true story. At one time, I had a large flock of white Muscovy ducks. They didn’t quack or fly. One fall day, a young mallard flew into the middle of the flock and lit. He wanted to eat corn with them. He quack loudly which scared my ducks. They weren’t sure they liked him. I discovered the mallard had spent the night in a large brush pile in the pasture with a flock on their way south. In the night, we had a dusting of snow so I could easily see the tracks. The flock flew off early that morning, leaving behind this young mallard. He must have overslept. He didn’t know where the flock went so he decided it was smarter to spend the winter with my ducks. When I realized Mr. Quacker didn’t intend to leave the next spring, I brought some Rouen hen ducks which look like a mallard, only larger and domestic. Mr. Quacker fell in love with the two hens and stayed around for three years. One day in the fourth spring, he was gone. I guess he became tired of being domestic and flew off with a mallard flock headed north. Oddly enough, I found the barnyard much too quiet after he left. I missed his incessant quacking.

 

This is the synopsis on the back of the book.

Mr. Quacker has a real problem. He joins the mallard flock for his first migration flight south for the winter. One cold evening, the flock roosts among large hay bales for shelter. The next morning, Mr. Quacker finds himself alone. He over slept, and the other ducks left without him.

When he finds a flock of white ducks on the farm, Mr. Quacker asks to join them. The ducks aren’t sure they like him. They point out Mr. Quacker is brown, and they are white. He quacks loudly, and they hiss. Winter is coming. The white ducks aren’t sure they want this stranger taking up space in their crowded barn and gobbling their food.

The white ducks are just as much strangers to Mr. Quacker as he is to them. Will Mr. Quacker be able to convince the white ducks to let him stay?

The book is on Amazon and the ebook is in kindle.

For all mothers out there have a Happy Mother’s Day. I’ll be spending that day with my 93 year old Mother-in-law and the Risner family.

 

 

 

 

Redcatcher MP In Memory Of Mickey M. Bright

 

 

 

My thoughts the last few days have been about my cousin, Mike, AKA Mickey M. Bright. He passed away a year ago without seeing in print the book he worked so hard to write.

 

Redcatcher MP is a well told truthful story of life in the army during the Vietnam War. Mickey was a military policeman in the 199th Light Infantry Brigade for three tours of duty.

 

I can identify with Mickey’s memories of home and family that had to be a solace for him when he was stressed. His sisters, my brother, Mickey and me spent our younger years playing together on my parents farm in the Missouri Ozarks.

 

The following is a letter from Mickey Bright, known as Mike, to his cousin , Fay Risner, and her family was postmarked May 8, 1968 from Vietnam.

 

 

 

Hi Fay, Harold and family,

 

I got your letter today, you sure know who cares about you by the letters you get. I appreciate you and Harold writing. I got a letter from your mom last week. I’m glad you all are getting along okay.

 

Tell ole Harold he better not work too hard or I’ll turn him over my knee. Ha! Ha! Harold, I’m going to come down and go fishing with you when I get back in the states, and that’s a promise.

 

It’s hell over here. You are up from 16 to 18 hours. You see your buddies get shot and you have to kill. I hope I make it back.

 

Your mom probably told you all I am a machine gunner on a M.P. gun jeep.

 

I’ll tell you it’s not too funny to get shot at. I’m located about 20 miles from Saigon. But you know how I am, happy-go-lucky. I never worry about a thing.

 

Well, I have to go. Oh, you ought to see the Vietnamese women over here. They are out of sight. Write as much as you can. You all be good.

 

Love,

Mike

 

 

Forward

 

Young men sent to the Vietnam war didn’t have a clue what they were getting into when they left the safety of home. Mick sat with men his age in the back of a truck, waiting to be delivered to his base. He wrote, “Each man had puffy cheeks. A hint of our still developing maturity.”

For many, the Vietnam War was pure hell! Men thought they were doing their duty as soldiers for their country when they left for war and had no idea (because most had never served in a war) what they were up against. Dense jungles, snakes, spiders, leeches, ticks, malaria carrying mosquitoes, booby traps, heat, humidity, torrents of rain, foot rot, and scabs on theirbody from cuts that got infected from moisture and dirt.

Mick considered writing his story cathartic. Putting on paper what he saw and did in Vietnam was easier than telling the tales. He put his story in four spiral notebooks and gave them to his mother for safe keeping. Until recent years, Mick, an unknown one time author, found it hard to get his story published. Now in the age of Independent authors Mick’s book is published, but sadly Mick passed away before that happened.

When the fond memories of Mick passed between his sisters and me, there came recall of the story he wrote. I asked to see it when it surfaced among his effects. Now I hope our Mick (Mike) is smiling down on his family for making his book possible.

Mike’s story starts with his landing in Vietnam in the middle of the Tet Offensive which began January 31, 1968. Knowing the element of surprise would be on the North Vietnamese side, VC infiltrated South Vietnam, getting in position to conduct a large military operation during the cease fire. The attack took our military by surprise, but after months of battles, the communists were driven back across the border. Finally, our military considered this the beginning of the end of the war for North Vietnam.

This war was the first one to be televised. When news reporter Walter Cronkite traveled to Vietnam to see what was happening, he brought back a report that sealed the fate of South Vietnam. On his newscast, he said, “The only rational way out will be negotiate not as victors, but as honorable people who did the best they could.”

That’s all it took for protests to erupt across the United States, many of them violent, demanding to get our service men out of Vietnam. President Nixon ordered a withdrawal of troops. Over time when South Vietnam’s army was left to defend the country, the North Vietnamese army swarmed back in and took over.

 

 

In Loving Memory About The Author

 

Sp/5 Mickey M. Bright

1/14/1949 – 4/10/2013

 

Mickey Bright put his heart and soul into his book about his three tours in the Vietnam War. He brings to life the men he served with and treasured as friends as well as the Vietnamese people he grew to know and respect. He describes everything he saw and felt about the war in vivid detail. That includes the horrors of war as well as the men’s feverish efforts to block their worries and fears with drugs and booze in their off duty hours. In the Missouri Ozarks, Mickey was a happy go lucky, daring boy who didn’t show fear. He grew into a man in Vietnam that kept his cool under fire. His family and extended family are proud of him for his service to his country and knew the man we called Mike for the soft hearted soul he was. He will be missed.

 

 

If you want to read more from this book it is in paperback at Amazon and Barnes & Noble and ebooks in Kindle, Nook and Smashwords.com

 

About Author Fay Risner and Her Writing

For many years, I have been blessed to have a friend that was an English teacher. She liked to write and was good at it. In the eighties, she had a six weeks writers workshop at the library. I announced to my husband that I wanted to write a book and signed up for the class. The retired teacher took a liking to what I wrote and over the years helped me improve. Her critiques were always helpful as well as encouraging. Her one piece of advice I’ve always carried with me is write about what you know. That works well for me, because I write stories that are what I like to read.

My husband and I live in the country on four and a half acres not far from Cedar Rapids, Iowa. We have an acre and a half hayfield in the front of our property that is divided by our long driveway. Our driveway divides the field and goes between the garden and house. In warm weather, the walk to the mailbox is a pleasant one. In the winter like the one we just went through, the walk wasn’t fun. I usually drag my fee about going. If Harold wants his newspaper, he will hop in the pickup and go after it.

My husband worked for the Iowa Department Of Transportation, and I was a certified nurse aide at the local nursing home. We retired a few years ago. For many years, I was our veterinarian for the animals and did the chores. After I went to work, I did morning chores, and Harold did the evening chores. I loved lambing season in the spring, but after days of two hour patrols for newborns I was always glad to see lambing and kidding end. Since our retirement, Harold does the chores by himself. If he isn’t feeling well, I volunteer. Otherwise, I work on a book or find other things to do. When Harold brings up that he doesn’t get any help now, I say when I retired I meant it.

My latest book Christmas With Hover Hill is dedicated to a woman that liked to read my short stories. I started writing by entering short story contests. This friend loved romance books by Danielle Steele and Nora Roberts. Her advice to me was I should turn the story about Hover Hill into a but, but it would sell better if I added a romance in the book. My friend was in failing health. I knew I’d never get the book done in time so I told her when I wrote the book I’d make sure to dedicate it to her. It took me five years to get the book written. I’m sure she’s smiling down on me for keeping my word to mention her in the book, and maybe she’s giving me a wide grin because I tried to write a romance.

This book has what I like to write about; small town life, humor and an over the top robot man. And yes, there is a romance as you can tell if you read my first post. I want to thank the bloggers that have discovered my wordpress post. It’s fun to know that I have others watching my blog.

The weathermen say it will be 68 degrees on Sunday. My plan is to hang out my laundry on the line. As you can see from the picture of my front yard, the first time I tried this year I stood in a two foot drift under the clothes line. Maybe I’ll have better luck staying upright this time while I pen clothes. In between loads, I should rake the leaves off all my flower beds. Our city relatives tell me they have tulips up already. It’s not usual that their flowers peek through before mine, but it sure makes me have spring fever to hear about it.

Latest Book Release-Christmas With Hover Hill

On the back of the book cover

Elizabeth Winston grew up not caring about Christmas. This Christmas is going to be much worse than the holidays she and her brother, Scott, spent with her divorced parents. Her former boyfriend, Steven Mitchell, showed up to pester her about renewing their relationship now that his marriage has ended. Elizabeth always looks forward to sharing Christmas with her brother, Scott, but he says he has a business trip during Christmas. His present for her is an expensive and obnoxious robot man by the name of Hover Hill. Just her luck to be stuck with a mechanical man to share the holidays with. Elizabeth was fit to be tied when she figure out the robot was planted by Steven Mitchell to brainwash her into taking him back. Scott betrayed her when he helped Steven by saying the robot was his gift. She slipped out of town with the robot, leaving her old life behind and walked into a new set of problems. She wanted to hide out for six months, but that isn't easy in a small town. Gossip about her flew faster than the rumors that came out of the Silver Dollar Tavern. Susie, at the Maidrite Diner, bragged she got a look at the handsome man that Elizabeth is shacking up with. The minster's wife complained a local farmer, Bud Carter, hadn't been to church for a month of Sundays. Holly, from the Antique Store, said the reason why is that Bud's spending more time at the newcomer's house than he is his place. The grocery store checker said Elizabeth acts like she's hiding out from someone. If Steven comes looking, with all the attention Elizabeth is getting, all he has to do is ask and get directions from anyone in town to the old Carter house.
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