Kimberly Stuart's Blog, page 8

How To Be A Writer

When I first got into this writing gig, I thought I would camp out in a cozy attic room with a gabled  ceiling, a roaring fire, and classical music playing in the background. This was the first of many, ahem, misunderstandings about the publishing world. Sometime I'll tell you the story about when a certain VIP in publishing asked me not to use the word "boobies" in my book. 



It's been a

Love Letter To Carbs

I do so love to eat. I am not the girl who forgets a meal. I have never understood people who say, with genuine surprise, "Oh, dear golly! I was so busy, I forgot to eat lunch!"



No, no, never. 



I also love breakfast and dinner. And dessert. I like to cook and then I like eating what I cook. 



Is that so wrong?



I just can't imagine coming to the end of my earthly tenure and saying, "

Do as I say...

The danger of having children is that they imitate you. Sometimes this is flattering, like when they quote your favorite poet or sing your favorite Puccini aria. I speak hypothetically as this has not yet happened at our home. But there are nice imitations, I'm sure of it.



And then there are those days when imitation is not flattery at all. Instead, imitation is one way to work up a scarlet

Animal Planet

Whither we go, we are followed by wildlife. Don't swoon, you animal lovers. Don't get happy, you people who like to spend free time at Pet Mart, the zoo, or walking the fields and finding wildlife living their wild lives.



We have these.



 And these.



And most recently, these.



Photo credit.

(I did not take this photo, but there were two of these critters staring at me from my basement

The Waiting

I am waiting. So far, I am not very good at it.



I finished a manuscript last summer and I'm waiting to see where and if it lands. 






Photo credit.

Listen, I should tell you that I have a long, colorful history with God and his faithfulness. In all the years I've walked with him (we're up to year #31 this year), he has never, ever forgotten me. This, I feel, is a track record worth

Oscar Who?

Well, people, the transformation is complete. I am officially completely out of it.



There was a time when I had seen all of the movies up for Best Picture at the Oscars. In fact, our best friends used to throw an Oscar party where folks would dress up in costumes reflecting their pick for best film. Now that I consider it, I don't know that we were any more hip then, but at least we knew

Winner!

We have a winner! Congratulations, Becca Morgan from New York! Your day (and home) just got a bit brighter, I believe, with the help of Sarah McCoy and her cool stuff. 



Thanks for entering, folks. I hope you head back to Permanent Collection and Sarah's Etsy shop when you are next in need of a cute paper fix.




I feel the need for an entertaining video. I do. And so here is one that made me

Girls in the Know Giveaway 2.13

Hoo, boy, am I excited about this giveaway. 



Here's the thing: I am weirdo about paper. Seriously weird. My favorite store when I was a kid was a stationery store. I like paper like some people like cocaine. Okay, maybe not exactly like that, but I promise that if cute cards were illegal, I would absolutely find a way. Prison would be an acceptable risk.



So our Girl in the Know this time

Love and Marriage

I am married to a fantastic man.



He is patient with me. I can freak a person out, I assure you. And he has never left, even when I'm positive he wanted to at least take a side trip to Missouri. Or Tahiti. 



We've been married for fourteen years of glory, since we were twelve.



I have been asked on more than one occasion if I married Marc before he was legally an adult. I want to set the

Shout-out for the Mamas

Listen, moms of little ones. I've been thinking about you lately.



Photo credit.

I've been talking with some of you and have remembered well and anew the complete exhaustion of being the source of most things in the house. Food source, holding-in-tired-arms source, help-me-to-sleep source, clean-my-tush source...The grand pumba. The big cheese. The very, very tired big cheese.



Photo