Maddy Barone's Blog, page 61

13 Titles for My Books

My Thursday 13 this week is a list of titles for books I have published, contracted, written, partially written or just thought of. Naturally, for those I have not contracted, names may change Do you have this many partials just laying around? I've always written for fun. Now I'm thinking about bringing these out, brushing them off and typing them up for possible publication.

1. Sleeping With the Wolf (book 1, After the Crash)-published by Liquid Silver

2. Wolf's Glory (book 2, After the Crash)-contracted by Liquid Silver

3. Tracking Tami (book 3, After the Crash) – 1st draft half written

4. Eddie's Prize (book 4, After the Crash)- 1st draft written

5. Sky's Rose (book 5, After the Crash) – not written

6. Saving Ellie (book 6, After the Crash) – not written

7. Blood Prince (book 1, Erabiri Trilogy) – 1st draft half written – romantic fantasy

8. The Stinger (book 2, Erabiri Trilogy) – 1st draft 3/4 written – romantic fantasy

9. Demon Prince (book 3, Erabiri Trilogy) – not written

10. Lord of the Black Riders (book 1, Down the Rabbit Hole) – fantasy romance – 3/4 written

11. Lord of Del Tai (book 2, Down the Rabbit Hole) – 1/3 written

12. Lord of Ice (book 3, Down the Rabbit Hole) – 1st draft written

13. Dream  Lady – takes place in the After the Crash world, in Japan, 100 years later. 1st draft 4/5 written.

Wolf's Glory Excerpt

Here is the unedited first few pages of Wolf's Glory. I would imagine there will be some changes made during editing, but meanwhile, enjoy!

                                            Wolf's Glory, Chapter One  

Maybe they were doomed to walk the prairie forever, never finding help. Glory shook her head fiercely. No, that was tiredness and hunger speaking. There had to be people somewhere. This rotted old railroad track would lead them to civilization eventually. Glory threw a desperate look around and saw nothing but tall dry grass and blue sky as far as her eyes could see–just empty prairie as bare as it must have been when the pioneers first settled the West. If she and Jane didn't find help, people would die. Maybe people had already died. It had been over twenty-four hours since they'd left the crash site and dozens of people had been hurt, some so badly that they hadn't regained consciousness before the rescue teams had left the crash site. Jane still trudged along in her sensible librarian's shoes, but turned her head back to look at Glory, a thin eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"Just hoping I might have missed some sign of civilization," Glory muttered.

She watched Jane pull out her cell phone and try again, for the millionth time, to make a call. Glory sighed when Jane returned her cell phone to her purse. "Still nothing?"

Jane's brown hair swayed over her shoulders when she shook her head. "Maybe the search and rescue team has already come," she said hopefully.

"Maybe." Glory didn't say anything else. What was there to say that they hadn't already said? Their plane had crashed and the only surviving member of the crew had tried repeatedly to send a mayday, but the plane's radio didn't work. Nor did any cell phones, and none of the survivors could connect with the Internet to send an email mayday. The co-pilot had told them that help was certainly on the way, and organized the efforts to free those trapped by the debris and make the injured more comfortable.

"Perhaps the co-pilot has gotten the plane's radio to work by now." Jane persisted in her cheery optimism. 

An optimist Glory was not. "Fat chance," she grunted as she stumbled over the rough ground. "She spent hours trying to call, right?"

"Yes. She did." Jane was slightly subdued, but lengthened her stride in determination. "Now it's up to us to find help."

Glory had to hand it to the co-pilot. Even though her ankle was smashed to smithereens, she had kept it together. She had done everything she could to get them help. But hours later, with no help yet on the scene and medical aid desperately needed, she had asked for volunteers to pair up and walk for help. Glory had volunteered, and so had others. The co-pilot rejected some as too young or too hurt, leaving six to be paired up into three teams that she sent in different directions. Glory had been paired up with Jane Terry, a forty-something librarian from St. Paul, and they'd been walking since yesterday afternoon without finding any sign of people at all.

Glory caught up with the librarian and resumed walking. She had been so excited yesterday morning when she had boarded the plane in Minneapolis that would take her to her job interview in San Francisco. After spending almost four years as a glorified aquarium cleaner at the Mall of America's Underwater World, she had landed a face-to-face interview with an international ocean-life study center. To work as a researcher at a place like that would be a dream come true for Glory. Why else had she gotten her degree in marine biology? They were interested enough after a couple phone interviews to buy a plane ticket for her to come to them for a face-to-face.

Glory swore when her low-heeled pump got caught in the thick grass covering the rail, making her stumble again. Damn, that hurt. Jane gave her a prim glance of reproach, and Glory forced back more curses at her new shoes.

"Are you okay?" Jane asked.

Glory wondered what Jane would say if she cut loose with her normal repertoire of four-letter words, and cleared her throat. "Fine," she grumbled. "Why did I buy these stupid shoes, anyway? Oh, yeah, because they go with this stupid business suit."

"You want to make a good impression at the interview," Jane said, looking approvingly at the boring business suit Glory was wearing and less approvingly at her hair.

True. Glory wanted the job so much that she had bought the sedate navy blue trousers and jacket for the interview. She doubted her usual dressy goth gear of black jeans, black satin bustier over a blood red silk T-shirt, and ankle-length black duster would have impressed them much. Too bad. She loved the way the bustier cinched in her waist and emphasized its curve. She was a big woman, but she had all the curves a woman could want. And then some. Her figure was more along the lines of Marilyn Monroe than Tyra Banks.

"Yeah. Like this outfit is going to impress anyone now. It's ruined."

"I'm sure your prospective employer will re-schedule your interview. Our misadventures are completely out of our control. It's probable they are already aware of the crash. I'm sure that by now rescue teams have arrived on the scene."

Geez, talk about Miss Pollyanna. The never-ending wind blew Glory's hair into her eyes, and she shoved it behind her ear with an impatient hand. She had stripped the purple, red and black streaks from her hair and changed it to a pink that matched the blouse she'd bought to go with the suit. Yesterday before boarding the plane she'd smoothed it into a sleek French twist. Now it blew like a ragged curtain over the tops of her shoulders. She had left her nose ring and the rings for her left eyebrow at home, wearing only a tiny fake diamond stud in her nostril, with a matching pair of studs for her ears. When she had boarded the plane she had looked like a successful business person. A little boring… Well, a lot boring, but she really wanted this job. They were supposed to land in San Francisco at 2:36 p.m. Pacific time, and her interview was at four. She figured she'd have time to touch up her hair and makeup in the airport ladies' lounge before taking a taxi straight to the interview.

Well, she had missed the job interview, and her new suit was ruined by her misadventures. She liked that word–misadventures. It sounded better than 'her shitty luck.'

"You're probably right." Glory tried for some of Jane's optimism. "They'll reschedule the interview, won't they? Sure, they will. After all, we're heroes, braving the wilderness to get help to save the rest of the passengers." The cheerfulness died when she stepped on a rock and bit off another four-letter word. "It never seems this hard in the movies."

"Heroines," Jane corrected. She smiled, but it was sober. "True. But we're still better off than the ones left at the plane."

So many of the passengers who had boarded the plane yesterday morning had been killed, including the little girl whose whiney complaints about not being able to run around had made Glory want to slap her during the first hour of the flight. Remembering her made Glory feel sick. What was she doing, worrying about her clothes and her feet and her interview when that little girl would never have a chance to grow up and have a job at all?

Hey, was that–? Glory squinted at a distant low hill. Yes! Something had moved out there! People? Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was making her fuchsia silk T-top flutter.

"Hey, Jane, look! Look!" She jabbed Jane in the arm to bring her attention to the dots bobbing along in the distance and began hollering and waving her arms madly. Jane was more sedate, but she waved her arms too.

"Thank God," Jane said. "Finally, we've found help."

The dots came closer, turning into a dozen or so people on horseback, with a whole bunch of big dogs running alongside. Glory gaped as they rode up to them at a gallop and formed a circle around them, the horses kicking up so much dust that she began to cough. What the hell–? When the dust settled a bit she could see that they were Indians. They had long black hair and bare brown bodies made barely modest by a strip of fabric that covered their important bits in front and back but left their chests and legs bare. Every last one of them was model handsome. Their bodies, unconcealed by clothing, were mouthwateringly perfect. Crap, was this a movie set? They looked like they were actors in a Dances With Wolves movie. The dogs were huge. She thought they were wolves, but they were too big for that. Maybe a mixed breed? One of the dogs came right up to her and sniffed her crotch. She slapped at his muzzle, shouting, "No! Bad dog!"

Some of the Indians looked shocked. Laughter bubbled in her throat. Hysteria? Gloria refused to do hysteria. She swallowed hard to force it back. The dog stared at her for a minute, grinning at her with his tongue hanging over sharp teeth, then trotted off and disappeared behind the horses surrounding her.

She turned her attention back to the Indians, searching them for phones. She didn't see any phones, and none of them wore enough clothing to hide a cell phone in, so she supposed they didn't have any with them.

"Um." Glory had to clear her throat to cut through the dust coating her throat. "Hi. Sorry to interrupt. But can you help us? Our airplane went down back that ways and – and … Wow."

Another Indian walked through the horses, tightening the string around his waist that held his diaper thing up, and Glory completely forgot what she'd been saying. It was a movie set! That was her favorite wrestling star in makeup and a really long black wig. And very little clothing. Yowza. He was living proof that guys like the ones on romance covers really did exist. She swallowed, wiping a hand over her chin in case she was drooling, and started over.

"Hi. Look, sorry to bother you, but our plane crashed, and we need help. Like an ambulance. And…" her voice trailed off again because all these men were looking at her very strangely and sniffing the air. She and Jane weren't freshly bathed, but talk about rude. "Hey!" She snapped her fingers. "Listen up! This is important."

Jane gave her a patient look and took over. "Yes, gentlemen, Glory is correct. We need immediate medical assistance. There are approximately three dozen injured at the crash. Our cell phones are not working. They may have been damaged in the crash, or perhaps there's no coverage here?" Her voice lifted at the end, inviting them to make a call for an ambulance.

Glory restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Jane was a nice lady, boring as beige paint, but nice. But who talked like that? Glory had a master's degree in biology and she didn't talk like a prissy British butler. During the last day Glory had concluded that she and Jane were total opposites. Glory listened to Nine Inch Nails and Linkin Park; Jane loved Bach. Glory and Jane both loved to read, but Glory liked hot vampire romances; Jane read literary masterpieces.

The romance cover model look-alike ignored Jane. He stepped even closer to Glory, and boy, did he smell good. She took a couple quick breaths to savor his scent. What cologne did he wear? Something spicy and so yummy that she wanted to push her nose into his neck and inhale. He growled something over his shoulder without taking his eyes from her. She should try to pay attention to what he was saying, but damn, he was so gorgeous she had trouble focusing. Geez, had she wandered into a rehearsal for the movie? Where was the director? Any movie with a hot piece of eye candy like this guy would get her money at the ticket booth. And if he was dressed like he was now, they'd get her money multiple times. Holy cow, he was so big and buff he made her feel like a size ten.

"Look," she told him. "Mister … um … I'm really sorry to interrupt your movie stuff, but like Jane said, people are hurt. We need to get them some help right away."

"You can call me Um if you want," he said in a low rumble that made her want to melt into a puddle of feminine goo at his feet. His smile was quick and white. "My name is Wolf's Shadow. What is your name?"

Yum, is more like it, she almost blurted. "Gloria Peterson. Well, Glory. And this is Jane Terry." He was really into his part. Unless he wasn't an actor? It sure looked like he must be an actor, or maybe a model, with that handsome face and even more handsome bod. How many guys looked that good, especially wearing only a diaper? Well, not a diaper. A breechcloth. It showed off the side of his body from ankle to armpit  very nicely. He must do some serious lifting, to have such a well-developed physique. Glory could look at him all day. Too bad they didn't have time for that. "Can you help us? Do you have a phone?"

He looked from her to Jane, a slight frown pulling his brows toward each other. "We have no phones. Where are your men? Why did they send two women out alone?"

Glory swelled with tired outrage at his critical tone, but Jane's voice was mellow. "All the men are injured or killed. There was no one else to go for help."

Wolf's Shadow turned his head toward another of the Indians, and the wind lifted his hair. Was that shiny black curtain falling down his back and brushing his butt real? Holy crap. "Stag, take the others to the injured." He looked at Jane and indicated one of the other men. "My cousin Jumping Stag has medical training. He and the others will go with you to help your friends. I will take Ms. Peterson back to our camp to rest."

Glory was tired, and her feet in their new pumps were killing her. But Jane must be tired too. Neither one of them had slept well last night. Without sleeping bags or a tent to keep them warm, they had huddled together so closely that in some cultures they would be considered a married couple. It was one of the few mornings in her entire life that Glory had been glad to see the sun come up.

"Jane is tired too," she began. "I don't think we should separate. The co-pilot said we should stick together."

Wolf's Shadow frowned. "You will come with me to camp," he ordered.

Glory eyed his magnificent physique with appreciative disgust. Wasn't that just the way it went? Guys that good-looking were just naturally bossy. It came from being used to getting what they wanted. Too bad for him she was used to going against the flow. "Sorry. We're sticking together. No offense or anything, but I don't even know you."

For some reason that made him smile approvingly. "Don't worry. I promise my intentions are strictly honorable."

Pity, thought Glory.

13 Goofs-One of Those Days

I've been sick for four days now. You know, sore throat, headache, sneezing, coughing… yeah. I stayed home from church and knitting on Sunday, stayed home from work on Monday, went in on Tuesday and gave up by noon, got up this morning and said: uh-uh.  I tried to go back to bed, but I can't breathe thru my nose.I have an entire colony of used kleenex that didn't quite make it into the waste basket next to my bed. All that is bad, right? But it gets worse. Much worse.

Around 11:00 I decided I needed to go to the store. I needed Nyquil, I needed more kleenex.  I needed juice and soup and raspberry sherbet. The store is just a mile. I made a list and when I got to the store I couldn't find it in my purse. Dangit! Goof #1. Well, I didn't need that much. I didn't need a list. I had done my shopping and was back in the car when I realized that I had forgotten the Nyquil. Goof #2. Back in I went and bought Nyquil.

Got home and tried to open the grapefruit juice so I could have a glass of deliciously cool juice on my raw throat. No go. I was feeling so weak that I couldn't open it. Finally, after great effort, I got it open. Oh, it said to shake well. I put the cap back on and shook well. Goof #3. Since the cap apparently wasn't fastened tightly, grapefruit juice went everywhere. I wiped it up and drank a glass. Then I decided I better have a slug of Nyquil too. Naturally, that cap wouldn't come off either.  I got a steak knife out of the drawer to cut the childproof seal off and had to ask myself a minute later what was wrong with a butter knife? Goof #4. I might have avoided skewering myself with a butter knife.

Okay, Nyquil drunk (bad faces made by me and all three of the cats, who were suddenly not so interested in sharing every blessed thing that mommy ate or drank) and finger bandaged, I decided I should take a hot steamy bath to try to open my nasal passages. I turned the light on in the bathroom and no light appeared. Ridiculous. All four of the bulbs burnt out at one time? Not likely. I flipped the switch on and off a few more times with no change. Okay, I checked the breakers and flipped them back and forth a few more times. Goof #5. I thereby killed all the clocks and eletronic devices into flashing 12:00. I reset the alarm clock in the bedroom and left the rest. The bathroom lights still didn't work.  Okay, either there was a problem with the wiring or they were all burnt out. I didn't have the exact bulbs needed, so I made do. I replaced two of the fancy bulbs with plain 40 watt bulbs. Still no light. I flipped the breakers back and forth again. Goof #6. Went to re-set the alarm clock. Decided to unscrew the rest of the fancy bulbs. Goof #7. Fancy bulb slipped from my fingers and crashed into a million shards all over the bathroom. The last thing I had was energy to clean up the bathroom. I thought about just laying down. But I didn't want to wake up, stagger to the bathroom and skewer my feet on glass. (neatly avoiding Goof #8) I cleaned up by the light of a camping lantern. On the way out of the bthroom I flipped the light switch without really thinking about it. Light flooded the bathroom from the 2 forty watt bulbs. I hacked, swore, coughed and swore some more.

Ah, bath time. Except the tub was kind of grimy. I decided to clean it. Goof #9.  That's when I realized that the drain was clogged. Wheezing, I got out the draino and poured some down the drain. I have asthma which is instantly made 10 times worse by inhaling such fumes. I needed to blow my nose. that's when I noticed Goof # 10. I had bought the flimsiest excuse for kleenex you can imagine. I didn't even blow very hard, and all I had in my splattered hand with torn shreds of kleenex.

My Cold/flu/Whatever The Heck This Is has decided that I have had enough. I didn't need a bath. I needed sleep, and the Nyquil looks like it might deliver. Wanna to know what Goofs #11-13 are? Me neither. I'm going to bed now, to struggle with my breathing and coughing, and pray to God that #11-13 never materialize.

Steampunk Costuming Updated

It's almost done! All I have left to do is put the skirt fastenings on and make the hat. I will make a blouse sometime in the future. That will be more useful if I ever use this costume for spinning demos. For the time being I will wear a lacy white camisole. I almost ordered Victorian boots, but honestly, I've already spent a lot of money on this costume, and I have some T-strap low heeled punps I can wear instead. At any rate. I'm feeling pretty pleased with the results.

I will make the hat next weekend.  If you'd like to see the step-by-step of this project, I  have a photo log of this over on my facebook page.

Thursday 13- Things that Compete with my Writing Time

What would it be like to be able write whenever I wanted to? A friend of mine seemed surprised that I couldn't write whenever I wanted to. After all, I'm single and I don't have children.  But there are things that keep me away from my Work in Progress, some that I could avoid with a little more self-discipline, and some that I cannot avoid. Do you have any of these issues?

1. The Day Job. I love to write, but I have a Monday to Friday job that pays the bills and rent and buys the groceries. And we've been on overtime since November, so I spend about 50 hours a week (including lunch times) at my desk at work. Not avoidable.

2.  Cleaning and Laundry. I really ought to put more of my time into this, but i don't. Sue me.

3. Knitting and attending knitting/spinning functions. This is something I love, so I don't try to avoid it. Besides, it is my sanity savior, so I don't want to cut it out.

4. Sewing. I actually don't enjoy this, but I need to do it for my SCA stuff. Again, sanity saving.

5. SCA functions. Meetings, fight practices, events where I get to hang with friends. Again, the sanity thing.

6. Reading. I haven't done this very much lately. Pity. I want to.

7. Zuma Blitz. One of those addictive games on Facebook. I probably should try to cut back on this. It is neither productive nor sanity saving.

8. Facebook in general. It's good to keep in touch with friends, but a limit must be imposed. 

9. Romance Divas. I LOVE this site, where other writers support each other and share. But I need to use my time wisely.

10. Twitter. I'm doing pretty well at managing my time there.

11. Church. I'm certainly not saying I need to cut back. Just mentioning that Sunday mornings are not a time for me to write.

12. Baseball. Watching, not playing. I'm a huge Minnesota Twins fan, and April is just around the corner. I can knit while watching the game, but not write.

13. The cats. I love them, but if Merry Miaow isn't in my lap, Little Bit is. They seem direly offended that I have something in my lap other than one or both of them. I've tried to explain that the black thing accross my legs isn't a special bed for them to sleep in. I don't think they get it.

Cover Art For Wolf's Glory is Here!

Here's the cover art for After the Crash, Book 2: Wolf's Glory.  I fell in love with this the first time I saw it. The artist, Lyn Taylor, did an amazing job. I got word from my editor that she will send me my first round of edits for Wolf's Glory over the weekend, so I've been working hard on Tracking Tami. I just wanted you all to get a sneak peek at Glory in all her gothy goodness

Steampunk Costume Attempt

    

Petticoat front

Petticoat back is fuller, for bustle

 There's a sci-fi/fantasy con in Moorhead in April and one of my friends is having a Steampunk themed hospitality room. So I've decided to sew myself an appropriate costume. I've ordered a corset and jacket from an online store. I won't have time to sew everything by April 15. Hope they get here on time. Since I'm into historical costuming I decided to go with a Victorian outfit but since it's fantasy anything goes, right? Anyway, yesterday I began the costume by making a petticoat out of white muslin with ribbon trim. I didn't have a pattern (it's a petticoat. 4 gores, a ruffle hem and a casing for an elastic waistband. How hard can it be?) so I measured my hips, divided that number by 4, measured myself waist-to-ankle, and laid out the fabric to cut 4 gores. 

Then I sewed the gore sides together, made a casing for two rows of narrow elastic, sewed the black ribbon over the edge of the eyelet ruffle (can you believe how much that stuff costs?!!) and and sewed a couple red ribbon roses over the black ribbon.

I also picked up a black hat and I will be putting ribbon and a silk rose on the crown, and maybe some netting? 

I wasn't planning on spending a lot of money on this outfit, but between the jacket, corset, hat, fabric for the petticoat,  blouse andskirt, I think I'll be sinking around $200.00 into this project. I will have to go to every con I can find to get my money's worth out of this outfit!

I'll be posting as I go with pictures of the items I make.

13 Thursday-Costume Layers

 

 

Have you ever read a historical romance where the hero has his lady out of her clothes in about 3 seconds flat? How realistic is that? I can say from experience that getting dressed takes some serious time and effort. I expect getting undressed would take less time, but still a heck of  a lot longer than a few seconds. Here is an example of what a noblewoman in England in the year 1540 might be wearing.

Layer 1: Chemise. shift. This is the layer closest to the skin, so it should be easily laundered (unless you're high nobility, and then the chemise will be loaded with embroidery)

Layer 2: Farthingale/hoopskirt. In the 1500s this shape should be a cone, not a bell like in the 19th century

Layer 3: Corset. This was not intended to give an hour glass shape like in the mid-1900′s. Have you ever tried to edge your hand inside the top of a corset or had your hero do that to his lover? Not as easily done as you might think, depending on how tightly it is laced. This is an actual corset from the 16th century

Layer 4:  Bumroll. To make the skirt stand out from the body and take some of the weight off the hips. A stuffed half-donut that tied around the hips

Layer 5: Kirtle (or petticoat and bodies). In hot weather or for casual dress (or the lower class), this could be worn alone.

Layer 6: Partlet. A neck covering for warmth and ostentation rather than modesty. Often plain black, but sometimes richly embroidered or lined with fur, edged with pearls or other small jewels. Later in the century it evolved into the back standing open ruff.

Layer 7: Forepart. A decorative panel of rich fabric that was pinned to the kirtle to show through the split in the over skirt. Often matched the lower sleeves. A woman with a couple of these could mix and match to extend her wardrobe. The black an dwhite photo is of an actual forepart rom the period.

Layer 8: Gown. Sometimes the gown was one piece. More often it was a skirt that hooked or tied onto the bodice edge.

Layer 9: Sleeves. In Tudor times, uppersleeves were stitched to the dress, but undersleeves were tied on underneath and could be changed to match the forepart.

Layer 10: Coife. A small linen cap to protect the heavier, more expensive headdress from oil in the hair.

Layer 11: Head dress. In Tudor Engand in 1545, this would have been a Gable Hood or a French Hood. These would have been ornate and decorated with pearls and gems.

Layer 12: Shoes and stockings. Stockings would have been made from fabric cut on the bias and sewn together. Knitted stockings were still another 20 or 30 years from being introduced. Shoes wereoften a Mary Jane style, with very square toes.

Layer 13: Jewelry. For the high nobility, this would have included necklaces, brooches, rings and girdles (belts made from strung pearls and jewels, or silk cords). But just about every garment was embellished with jewels, from the neck edges of the dresses, the edges of the split in the skirt, to the sleeve slashes. One of these coomplete outfits probably weighed a ton! Or at least 20 pounds.

I think the layers would have been similar in other times. The Georgians? Definitely. The Victorians? Oh, yeah. Maybe not the Regency period as much, but still layers.

So after reading this,  how quickly could your hero get his heroine undressed?

Romance Trading Cards

Hey, all you romance readers, here's something fun for you!

Romance Trading Cards are the freaking awesome idea of Jeannie Lin, Amanda Berry and some other authors. On the front of the card is an image of a book cover, and the back has somne info about the book or featured character. Who knows, these might be collectors items in the future. Do you know how much some rare baseball cards go for these days? Well, okay, maybe they won't ever be that popular … But this is wicked cool. The idea is that authors will bring them along to conventions like Romantic Times and RWA, and other conferences for people to collect. I'll have mine at Lori Foster's Reader Writer Get Together. Kim Killion of www.hotdamndesigns.com did mine for me (since I'm so totally clueless when it comes to graphic art type things). Thank God for Kim and her talent.

I should be getting them in a few weeks or a month. If you would like one and are not going to Lori Foster's get together, you can email me at maddybarone@gmail.com and I'll get one mailed out to you.

To see the ever growing list of authors who are involved with this and their cards, go to www.romancetradingcards.com 
Isn't this great?

13 Blooms of Spring (and Summer)

I don't know about anyone else, but I Am Sick of Winter! I want spring! Green grass! Flowers!

I went to the doctor today for my semi annual kenalog shot. The purpose of this shot is to help me breathe. I have nasal polyps, and one of the results of that is that they make my nasal passages swell and block my airway. I also cannot smell anything. Mucus gets traps up there and I get terrible sinus headaches. My asthma reacts too. Luckily, kenalog is like a wonder drug for me. In a few days I'll be breathing easier and in a few weeks I may be able to smell things too.  So I'm already planning to cook my favorite foods. I can 't wait to smell coffee brewing, and cinnamon rolls baking, and homemade spaghetti sauce simmering. And I'm looking forward to the brightness of spring and the scent of spring flowers. Here are some that I will enjoy seeing and smelling:

1. lilacs.  Such wonderful scent gets to be almost too much sometimes. But I'll suffer through it.

2. Tulips. Not much scent, really, but so springy. I love a dozen of them on the table.

3. Daffodils. Again, not much scent,  but so cheerful and bright.

4. Lily of the Valley. Possibly my favorite scented flower.  These little bells are so elegant in the greenery, don't you think?

5. Crocus.   Often the first to poke up through the snow.

6.  Johnny Jump Ups.     Cute!

7. Cherry blossoms. I've never gone to the viewing in DC or Japan  but I'd like to someday. I wonder how they smell?

8. Queen's Anne's Lace.  Grows wild all over the place. *snicker* Poet I am not.

9. Apple Blossom.  I think I remember that these have a light sweet scent

10. Snow drop.  I've never actually seen a snow drop as far as I know. But a lot of people thing 'spring" when they think of snow drops.

11. Cabbage Rose. Hot house roses are beautiful.  But  I really like the look of the old cabbages roses.

12. Peonies. I find their light fragrance delightful; their ants less so.  They remind me of the old fashioned roses.

13. Easter Lilies. They have a heavy sweet perfume. Elegant.

What makes you think of spring? What are your favorite flowers?