Kate Collins's Blog, page 231
May 14, 2013
The May 2013 Report
Welcome to Dru's Cozy Report: May 2013. This month we have three new series for your reading pleasure. * * * * *
Gluten for Punishment by Nancy J. Parra is the first book in the new “Baker’s Treat” mystery series. Publisher: Berkley Prime Crime, May 2013
What a delightful introduction to the world of Toni Holmes in Oiltop, Kansas. Toni springs into action when a lone protestor of her bakery is later found dead outside its door. Aided by her feisty grandmother, the duo begins looking into the dead man’s life to see who wanted him dead.Gluten-free baker Toni Holmes may not cook with wheat, but when there’s a criminal on the loose, she’ll do what it takes to figure out who has their finger in the pie.
Even though Toni is used to going against the grain by preparing allergy-safe, gluten-free products for her online bakery, Baker’s Treat, opening a storefront in the middle of wheat country Kansas might be biting off more than she can chew. The town is already skeptical of her flour-free ways, but when a local wheat farmer is murdered outside her patisserie, skepticism turns into outright suspicion.
With the help of her eccentric grandmother, her handsome lawyer, and the sexy new widower in town, Toni is determined to find the real criminal before bad publicity and increasingly personal acts of vandalism shut her down. But when another suspect winds up dead, Toni realizes that this half-baked killer isn’t just trying to get her to close shop—he’s trying to make sure that she’s made her last gluten-free cookie…forever.
This was a great read that I could not put down as I quickly turned the pages to see what happens next. I love the tone of the story and how it flowed from chapter to chapter. The author did a good job in keeping me on my toes with plenty of viable suspects; including some twists that gave me pause. I love the people that inhabit this small town in Kansas from Toni, her BFF Tasha; gutsy grandma Ruth and the two men who are after Toni’s heart. This was nicely done and gave me a better sense of celiac sensitivity. This is a sweet read that will whet your appetite for more in this pleasantly appealing series and is a welcome addition to the cozy genre. I look forward to the next adventures with Toni and her friends. Bonus recipes are included.
Visit Nancy at www.nancyjparra.com
FTC Full Disclosure - The publisher sent me a copy of this book, in hopes I would review it.
Kneading To Die by Liz Mugavero is the first book in the new “Pawsitively Organic” mystery series. Publisher: Kensington, May 2013
All she wanted to do is live a simple life in her new small town, but instead Stan is propelled into a murder investigation, especially when she becomes the prime suspect. Looking for clues causes some strife among neighbors and friends, but a girl got to do what a girl got to do to clear her name.Maybe the best thing that ever happened to Kristan “Stan” Connor was losing her high-stress public relations job. Now there’s plenty of time to spend in her sleepy new Connecticut town working on her dream: baking healthy, organic pet treats!
Before long the neighborhood dogs are escaping their yards to show up at Stan’s doorstep, begging for the kinds of special homemade treats her Maine coon cat Nutty loves so much. And Stan’s pet-loving neighbors are thrilled with the new organic options available to their furry family members. But not everyone loves Stan and her newfangled organic ways...
It seems Carole Morganwick, the town vet, is from the old school of pet care. But when Stan swallows her pride and brings a very unwilling Nutty in for a checkup, she not only finds Carole dead under a pile of kibble…but also that she’s in the dog house as the prime suspect! Finding the real killer and clearing her name will require some seriously surreptitious sniffing around…and hopefully, curiosity won’t kill this innocent cat!
What a fun and exciting read. I enjoyed meeting Stan and getting some of her backstory interspersed throughout this lighthearted whodunit. It’s well-written and the tone is as comfortable as a cuddly baby kitten. The author did a good job in planting clues and red herrings that had me thinking twice about the identity of the murderer, which I didn’t see until it was too late. I love Stan’s internal dialogue, especially how certain situations referenced popular songs that help her get through the day. I also like that Stan is her own woman and won’t back down in her search for the truth. This is a good beginning with a cast of characters that includes some eccentrically quirky residents and good conversations in a small town setting and I can’t wait to read the next book in this endearingly pleasant series.
Visit Liz at www.lizmugavero.com
FTC Full Disclosure - I bought this book
Double Whammy by Gretchen Archer is the first book in the new “Davis Way” humorous mystery series. Publisher: Henery Press, May 2013
Oh my goodness, what a riot of laughter I had reading the adventures and escapades of Davis Way. Landing the perfect job, or so she thinks, puts her in situations that were both amusing and intriguing as I watched her achieve her goal, that is until one dastardly incident and then the real Davis Way with unlikely help proves that she’s tougher than she appears. Surrounded by an interesting cast of characters exploding with southern charm, this was a fun read full of snarky and witty banter (especially her internal dialogue) that kept me entertained as I quickly turn the pages in a book that I could not put down. This is a great debut and I can’t wait for the next book in this engagingly appealing series.Davis Way thinks she’s hit the jackpot when she lands a job as the fifth wheel on an elite security team at the fabulous Bellissimo Resort and Casino in Biloxi, Mississippi. But once there, she runs straight into her ex-ex husband, a rigged slot machine, her evil twin, and a trail of dead bodies. Davis learns the truth and it does not set her free—in fact, it lands her in the pokey.
Buried under a mistaken identity, unable to seek help from her family, her hot streak runs cold until her landlord Bradley Cole steps in. Make that her landlord, lawyer, and love interest. With his help, Davis must win this high stakes game before her luck runs out.
Visit Gretchen at gretchenarcher.com
FTC Full Disclosure - The publisher sent me a copy of this book, in hopes I would review it.
And check out these other May releases
May 13, 2013
Re-Introducing Former Cozy Chick Karen MacInerney
The post today is from one of the original Cozy Chicks from June 2006, when we first launched the Cozy Chicks Blog. Karen is a multi-published mystery author as well as an old friend who is continuing her successful Gray Whale Inn, bed and breakfast mystery series set in Maine. Karen has also written paranormal mysteries. Enjoy! ---Maggie Sefton
Soul Food
I finished the sixth Gray Whale Inn mystery a few weeks ago, and for the first time in months, found myself waking up without a scene to write. I’d frequently fantasized about this situation, particularly during the sticky middle parts when I had gotten my main character, innkeeper Natalie Barnes, into some creative but fairly impossible bind, and had absolutely no idea how to get her out. The most frequent scenario involved snuggling into the couch in my coffee-cup bathrobe with a bag of Dove chocolates and watching an entire season of Downton Abbey in one day. (You know you’ve had the same fantasy. Admit it.)
The first morning of freedom, after intentionally lingering over coffee in the aforementioned bathrobe, I cued up Downton Abbey and sprawled on the couch with a bag of Dove chocolates in one hand and the remote in the other, ready for my day of indulgence. After watching half an episode of slender and attractive people in lovely dresses but challenging circumstances, I went downstairs for a drink, and found a package of forgotten Eden melon seeds in the door of the fridge. On a whim (and yes, still wearing my robe), I took them out into the garden and pushed them into the dirt. As I stood up to go inside, I noticed that the calendula was looking a little over the hill and that the arugula was threatening to swallow the sidewalk. As I yanked a couple of particularly aggressive plants, I decided petunias would make a nice accent in front of the tomatoes and sunflowers, and that some vining flowers on the cucumber trellis would make a lovely touch. Bush beans, it occurred to me, might be a good replacement for the arugula, too.
Downton Abbey forgotten, I spent my afternoon digging up dead lettuces and spending more money than I care to think about at Barton Springs Nursery. (I did change out of the robe before heading to the nursery.) By the time I was done, I was covered in dirt and had substantially depleted our checking account, but I felt deeply content.
That evening, as I washed off the dirt in the tub, I realized that making things – be they books, gardens, gorgeous crocheted shawls, homemade ice box pies, or blotchy watercolor renditions of wilting flowers (I’m attempting to learn to watercolor) – has a whole lot less to do with what we’re making than the process of making it. When I write a scene, or dig my hands in the dirt, or knead dough for a loaf of sourdough bread, I’m imagining the final result, of course, but it’s really the process of making that fulfills me. I’m a bit disappointed if the sunflowers overtake the tomatoes, or the petunias look garish next to the cosmos, but I’ll file it away for future reference. If the plants don’t thrive or the scene falls flat or the bread comes out looking like a pancake, I’ve still gained from the process. Some people make beautiful quilts. Some people bake wonderful cakes (I know my main character, Natalie, is always most at peace when she’s in her cozy yellow kitchen at the inn, whipping up something delectable). Some people write music, or make stained glass windows, or sing songs, or plant rose gardens – or do some combination of the above, like me. But we all have that creative urge, and we’re never more fulfilled than when we’re in the process of making something, even if the final product isn’t what we’d initially imagined.
I was afraid to write for more than a decade, afraid whatever I did wouldn’t be good enough. I’d browse the bookstore shelves, wishing I could create one of those plump, beautiful books, full of imagination and promise. I usually bought a stack of paperbacks and came home feeling as if writing one was a silly idea, out of my reach – and I would shrink a little inside, somehow.
I’m not sure what finally sparked the courage to try, but one night ten years go I sat in bed and wrote a scene about a woman delivering wild blueberries to an inn on a Maine island. That scene never made it into the first Gray Whale Inn mystery, but it got me started, and every day I am thankful that I took that terrifying plunge. Not everything I do is perfect (far from it), and I’ve written countless scenes that have ended on the cutting room floor, but it’s the process that keeps me coming back. I need to create.
Already I’m dreaming of my next book, and although it will doubtless never quite measure up to the book of my imagination, I’m going to throw myself in and do it anyway, looking forward to those magical ‘flow’ moments when there’s nothing but me and the words flowing out of my fingers. (There will be other, less pleasant moments – like when I have to cut three chapters because they aren’t working – but that’s part of the process. Even the most experienced knitters drop a stich sometimes.)
And when I’ve written my scene for the day, I’ll go downstairs and plant a watermelon patch or attempt a sketch of a flower or make a new salmon recipe for dinner. Because doing it will feed my soul – even if the kids do hate fish.
What creative pursuit nourishes you? And for those of you who are feeling brave, what is it you’re longing to do – but terrified to try?
Soul Food
I finished the sixth Gray Whale Inn mystery a few weeks ago, and for the first time in months, found myself waking up without a scene to write. I’d frequently fantasized about this situation, particularly during the sticky middle parts when I had gotten my main character, innkeeper Natalie Barnes, into some creative but fairly impossible bind, and had absolutely no idea how to get her out. The most frequent scenario involved snuggling into the couch in my coffee-cup bathrobe with a bag of Dove chocolates and watching an entire season of Downton Abbey in one day. (You know you’ve had the same fantasy. Admit it.)The first morning of freedom, after intentionally lingering over coffee in the aforementioned bathrobe, I cued up Downton Abbey and sprawled on the couch with a bag of Dove chocolates in one hand and the remote in the other, ready for my day of indulgence. After watching half an episode of slender and attractive people in lovely dresses but challenging circumstances, I went downstairs for a drink, and found a package of forgotten Eden melon seeds in the door of the fridge. On a whim (and yes, still wearing my robe), I took them out into the garden and pushed them into the dirt. As I stood up to go inside, I noticed that the calendula was looking a little over the hill and that the arugula was threatening to swallow the sidewalk. As I yanked a couple of particularly aggressive plants, I decided petunias would make a nice accent in front of the tomatoes and sunflowers, and that some vining flowers on the cucumber trellis would make a lovely touch. Bush beans, it occurred to me, might be a good replacement for the arugula, too.
Downton Abbey forgotten, I spent my afternoon digging up dead lettuces and spending more money than I care to think about at Barton Springs Nursery. (I did change out of the robe before heading to the nursery.) By the time I was done, I was covered in dirt and had substantially depleted our checking account, but I felt deeply content.
That evening, as I washed off the dirt in the tub, I realized that making things – be they books, gardens, gorgeous crocheted shawls, homemade ice box pies, or blotchy watercolor renditions of wilting flowers (I’m attempting to learn to watercolor) – has a whole lot less to do with what we’re making than the process of making it. When I write a scene, or dig my hands in the dirt, or knead dough for a loaf of sourdough bread, I’m imagining the final result, of course, but it’s really the process of making that fulfills me. I’m a bit disappointed if the sunflowers overtake the tomatoes, or the petunias look garish next to the cosmos, but I’ll file it away for future reference. If the plants don’t thrive or the scene falls flat or the bread comes out looking like a pancake, I’ve still gained from the process. Some people make beautiful quilts. Some people bake wonderful cakes (I know my main character, Natalie, is always most at peace when she’s in her cozy yellow kitchen at the inn, whipping up something delectable). Some people write music, or make stained glass windows, or sing songs, or plant rose gardens – or do some combination of the above, like me. But we all have that creative urge, and we’re never more fulfilled than when we’re in the process of making something, even if the final product isn’t what we’d initially imagined. I was afraid to write for more than a decade, afraid whatever I did wouldn’t be good enough. I’d browse the bookstore shelves, wishing I could create one of those plump, beautiful books, full of imagination and promise. I usually bought a stack of paperbacks and came home feeling as if writing one was a silly idea, out of my reach – and I would shrink a little inside, somehow.
I’m not sure what finally sparked the courage to try, but one night ten years go I sat in bed and wrote a scene about a woman delivering wild blueberries to an inn on a Maine island. That scene never made it into the first Gray Whale Inn mystery, but it got me started, and every day I am thankful that I took that terrifying plunge. Not everything I do is perfect (far from it), and I’ve written countless scenes that have ended on the cutting room floor, but it’s the process that keeps me coming back. I need to create.
Already I’m dreaming of my next book, and although it will doubtless never quite measure up to the book of my imagination, I’m going to throw myself in and do it anyway, looking forward to those magical ‘flow’ moments when there’s nothing but me and the words flowing out of my fingers. (There will be other, less pleasant moments – like when I have to cut three chapters because they aren’t working – but that’s part of the process. Even the most experienced knitters drop a stich sometimes.)
And when I’ve written my scene for the day, I’ll go downstairs and plant a watermelon patch or attempt a sketch of a flower or make a new salmon recipe for dinner. Because doing it will feed my soul – even if the kids do hate fish.
What creative pursuit nourishes you? And for those of you who are feeling brave, what is it you’re longing to do – but terrified to try?
May 12, 2013
The Three Muske-plant-eers
by Kate Collins
I know. Bad pun. I was trying to find a clever way to announce my blog subject -- a Mother's Day planting event, an afternoon spent with my daughter and son planting flowers and flowering shrubs. When they were little, the three of us did everything together, prompting me to tag us the Three Musketeers. So that was the best I could do. I'm spent!
It was a great day. Although the temperature didn't climb out of the 50s, the sun was out and it was warm enough in my courtyard to do without jackets. This will be my first summer in my new house, and I had told my kids my intention to add to the few boxwood shrubs that came with the house. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do except that I knew I had to have roses and pink hydrangeas, along with potted plants of deep pink geraniums and purple and pink petunias.
Imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find a whole porch full of landscape plants and garden decor. You can see some in these photos. Among the items they bought are a pink hydrangea, a pink azalea shrub, a red knockout rose, multicolored celosia, marigolds, wisteria, and the garden decor, including two fancy bird feeders.
We spent at least two hours digging holes in the clay soil, filling them with good potting soil and planting the plants. And I still have room for pots of geraniums and petunias.
And then we cut up an assortment of fresh veggies (potatoes, onions, zucchini, carrots, Brussel sprouts and garlic), tossed them with sea salt, pepper, and olive oil, made packets of foil and grilled them along with grass-fed antibiotic free steaks -- until the fuel ran out and the grill shut off half-way through. We ended up finishing the meal in the oven and laughing about it. But topped off with a good red wine and fudgy brownies, it was a feast.
At the end of the day, we sat and admired our outdoor handiwork, all agreeing that it had been one of our best Mother's Day celebrations ever. It'll be something they can look back on one day and say, "Hey, remember when the three Musketeers...."
It hasn't been easy to celebrate holidays since my hubby's passing, but thanks to the close bond I have with my children, it's getting easier. And even though my husband wasn't here, we all felt his presence.
I hope you enjoy my photos.
I know. Bad pun. I was trying to find a clever way to announce my blog subject -- a Mother's Day planting event, an afternoon spent with my daughter and son planting flowers and flowering shrubs. When they were little, the three of us did everything together, prompting me to tag us the Three Musketeers. So that was the best I could do. I'm spent!
It was a great day. Although the temperature didn't climb out of the 50s, the sun was out and it was warm enough in my courtyard to do without jackets. This will be my first summer in my new house, and I had told my kids my intention to add to the few boxwood shrubs that came with the house. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do except that I knew I had to have roses and pink hydrangeas, along with potted plants of deep pink geraniums and purple and pink petunias.
Imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find a whole porch full of landscape plants and garden decor. You can see some in these photos. Among the items they bought are a pink hydrangea, a pink azalea shrub, a red knockout rose, multicolored celosia, marigolds, wisteria, and the garden decor, including two fancy bird feeders.
We spent at least two hours digging holes in the clay soil, filling them with good potting soil and planting the plants. And I still have room for pots of geraniums and petunias.
And then we cut up an assortment of fresh veggies (potatoes, onions, zucchini, carrots, Brussel sprouts and garlic), tossed them with sea salt, pepper, and olive oil, made packets of foil and grilled them along with grass-fed antibiotic free steaks -- until the fuel ran out and the grill shut off half-way through. We ended up finishing the meal in the oven and laughing about it. But topped off with a good red wine and fudgy brownies, it was a feast.
At the end of the day, we sat and admired our outdoor handiwork, all agreeing that it had been one of our best Mother's Day celebrations ever. It'll be something they can look back on one day and say, "Hey, remember when the three Musketeers...."
It hasn't been easy to celebrate holidays since my hubby's passing, but thanks to the close bond I have with my children, it's getting easier. And even though my husband wasn't here, we all felt his presence.
I hope you enjoy my photos.
May 11, 2013
Mother's Day Nocturne
by Leann
Whether or not you are a mom, you had a mom, so this day is for everyone. For me, it has always been bittersweet. I didn't get that perfect mom, not even a nice mom. Didn't mean I didn't love her. I did. But I spent most of my childhood like the kid in this black and white picture. I also knew my mother would die at a young age. She did, at 52. In retrospect, it was a good thing. She wasn't someone who would solve her many problems and suddenly become this wonderful mom filled with regret and dedicated to righting the wreckage she'd left in her wake. That's fiction. It's probably why I write fiction. I want justice and happy endings. I can make that happen on the page.
I spent much of my childhood mothering my younger sister because, well, she needed a mom. I spent much of my adult life as a mother to two wonderful kids. Now I am a grandmother. Are the wounds healed by rewriting history, by trying to be what she was not? Yes, but even at my age, it is amazing how fragile the scars are, how easily they can be ripped open to become bloody wounds once again. Small things bring tears to my eyes, remembrances of chances missed, of love lost. I am both blessed and cursed by an excellent memory. I recall how it was and I also recall wishing desperately for what it could be and wasn't.
Today, I made sure to send cards to my sister, who let me be her mother and who is a fantastic mother herself, and to my daughter-in-law for loving her girls with all her heart. I appreciate what they do because of who they are. They have the nature and they know how to nurture. I learned firsthand not every woman is blessed with the ability to do both.
This is a day to honor women. Whether you had children or not, if you are reading this blog, I know you. You are a nurturer. You are a mother to someone if not by nature, in some other way. Yes, you are special. Celebrate!
Whether or not you are a mom, you had a mom, so this day is for everyone. For me, it has always been bittersweet. I didn't get that perfect mom, not even a nice mom. Didn't mean I didn't love her. I did. But I spent most of my childhood like the kid in this black and white picture. I also knew my mother would die at a young age. She did, at 52. In retrospect, it was a good thing. She wasn't someone who would solve her many problems and suddenly become this wonderful mom filled with regret and dedicated to righting the wreckage she'd left in her wake. That's fiction. It's probably why I write fiction. I want justice and happy endings. I can make that happen on the page.I spent much of my childhood mothering my younger sister because, well, she needed a mom. I spent much of my adult life as a mother to two wonderful kids. Now I am a grandmother. Are the wounds healed by rewriting history, by trying to be what she was not? Yes, but even at my age, it is amazing how fragile the scars are, how easily they can be ripped open to become bloody wounds once again. Small things bring tears to my eyes, remembrances of chances missed, of love lost. I am both blessed and cursed by an excellent memory. I recall how it was and I also recall wishing desperately for what it could be and wasn't.
Today, I made sure to send cards to my sister, who let me be her mother and who is a fantastic mother herself, and to my daughter-in-law for loving her girls with all her heart. I appreciate what they do because of who they are. They have the nature and they know how to nurture. I learned firsthand not every woman is blessed with the ability to do both.
This is a day to honor women. Whether you had children or not, if you are reading this blog, I know you. You are a nurturer. You are a mother to someone if not by nature, in some other way. Yes, you are special. Celebrate!
May 10, 2013
Happy Mother's Day to Fur-Baby Moms!
By Ellery Adams
Mother's Day is tomorrow and I've been thinking about my mom and how I never realized how much she did for me until I became a mom.
But moms of two-legged creatures aren't the only moms. Here's how I know this:
At five a.m. yesterday, two of my cats were play-fighting and took things too far. They started yowling and hissing and I had to get out of bed and scold them. Sounds like a mom breaking up a fight between to human siblings, right?At sixty-thirty, two of my four cats were crying for breakfast. They were quite insistent and wouldn't stop complaining until I served them their Fancy Feast.
At seven, a third cat wanted to help me make the bed. He loves to play hide-and-seek in the sheets, and I laughed out loud while making a tunnel for him with the comforter.
Before taking my other kids to school, I had to clean up a cat puke, received a nice rub on the calf and a host of purrs from another cat, and promised that cat that sits on my printer while I write that I'll be home soon.
And I realized that while I had two biological children, I also had four, furry adoptive children. So here's to you moms of furry and feathered children. Because you give all your tender love and care to animals who can't say "thank you" with words, I'll say thank you for them. You're an amazing mom and you're doing a great job!If you're an animal mom, tell us the names of the animals you love so well!
May 9, 2013
And so I treated myself to ...
by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett
Back in January, when I wrote my short story Blue Christmas, I gave my character Judi Straub, a sea glass necklace. The gift was something very special for her.
That idea of that gift stayed with me long after I wrote the story. So much so, that I went online and looked to find something that would approximate the necklace I described in the story. But the thing is ... I'm cheap. That is ... I'm not known for splurging on stuff, especially for myself. I will spend foolish amounts of money on those I love, but for me ... not so much.
And yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about that sea glass necklace.
I went online and didn't find anything I liked.
So I went online again. And again. And again. And again.
And last week I found the piece of sea glass I really liked, and hoped it hadn't already been sold.
YAY! It hadn't! And so now it's around my neck and ... I think it's beautiful.
Why is it that some women are reluctant to treat themselves to something special? Is it because we're trained to put ourselves last and everyone else's needs before our own?
Is there something you've been denying yourself from having?
Back in January, when I wrote my short story Blue Christmas, I gave my character Judi Straub, a sea glass necklace. The gift was something very special for her.That idea of that gift stayed with me long after I wrote the story. So much so, that I went online and looked to find something that would approximate the necklace I described in the story. But the thing is ... I'm cheap. That is ... I'm not known for splurging on stuff, especially for myself. I will spend foolish amounts of money on those I love, but for me ... not so much.
And yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about that sea glass necklace.
I went online and didn't find anything I liked.
So I went online again. And again. And again. And again.
And last week I found the piece of sea glass I really liked, and hoped it hadn't already been sold.YAY! It hadn't! And so now it's around my neck and ... I think it's beautiful.
Why is it that some women are reluctant to treat themselves to something special? Is it because we're trained to put ourselves last and everyone else's needs before our own?
Is there something you've been denying yourself from having?
May 8, 2013
Leia-ing eggs
by Julie
For the past few years in the spring, three mallards show up in our backyard to spend time swimming in our winter-covered, but pond-like pool. My daughters have named the two males and one female Luke, Han, and Leia.
A few weeks ago, Leia went missing. We don't live in a rural area, it's suburban, but we do spot coyotes fairly often and there are always hawks circling. We thought poor Leia had disappeared for good.
Monday, we opened our pool for the season, a little earlier than usual. Generally, this is when Luke, Han, and Leia take off and we don't see them for another year. But this time, Luke and Han are still hanging around.
Now, I don't really mind them swimming in my pool when the cover is on it and water gathers there, but once the pool is open, all bets are off. My husband and I have been clapping our hands and shooing them away before they leave their messy calling cards, if you know what I mean.
I've been playing "Chase the ducks" for the past few days and it's wearing on me. Well, it was. Until this afternoon, when I looked out the back window to see that Leia had returned. It's possible she never left, but had been in hiding in the backyard (entirely possible) because she waddled across the grass accompanied by eight little adorable ducklings.
They're much too small to make it up onto the deck (it's an above-ground pool) at this point, but how on earth will I have the heart to chase those sweet little things away once they get big enough? Fingers crossed that by that time, they'll decide to find different digs.
Any suggestions?
For the past few years in the spring, three mallards show up in our backyard to spend time swimming in our winter-covered, but pond-like pool. My daughters have named the two males and one female Luke, Han, and Leia.
A few weeks ago, Leia went missing. We don't live in a rural area, it's suburban, but we do spot coyotes fairly often and there are always hawks circling. We thought poor Leia had disappeared for good.
Monday, we opened our pool for the season, a little earlier than usual. Generally, this is when Luke, Han, and Leia take off and we don't see them for another year. But this time, Luke and Han are still hanging around.
Now, I don't really mind them swimming in my pool when the cover is on it and water gathers there, but once the pool is open, all bets are off. My husband and I have been clapping our hands and shooing them away before they leave their messy calling cards, if you know what I mean.
I've been playing "Chase the ducks" for the past few days and it's wearing on me. Well, it was. Until this afternoon, when I looked out the back window to see that Leia had returned. It's possible she never left, but had been in hiding in the backyard (entirely possible) because she waddled across the grass accompanied by eight little adorable ducklings.They're much too small to make it up onto the deck (it's an above-ground pool) at this point, but how on earth will I have the heart to chase those sweet little things away once they get big enough? Fingers crossed that by that time, they'll decide to find different digs.
Any suggestions?
May 7, 2013
The Lost Art of Lingering
by Deb Baker/Hannah Reed
LINGERING
When I was a kid, adults never used that word.
Instead they said,
"Quit dillydallying."
OR
"Are you lollygagging again?"
AND
"Stop dawdling and get to work."
We also had signs in case we forgot and stopped moving.
"No Loitering!"
And my favorite:
"Idle hands are the Devil's tools."
Eventually I grew up. Now I can linger as long as I want and no one is going to tell me to quit loafing. But I don't.
As I look at middle age in the rear view mirror, I worry that I've forgotten how to stop and smell the roses?
LINGER
I love that word.
Today I'm going to do a little of it.
Linger in bed or linger over coffee, or dab on a little perfume and let the smell linger around my desk.
Because I don't want my only lingering to be on my death bed.
I want to experience it right now.
LINGERING
When I was a kid, adults never used that word.
Instead they said,
"Quit dillydallying."
OR
"Are you lollygagging again?"
AND
"Stop dawdling and get to work."
We also had signs in case we forgot and stopped moving.
"No Loitering!"
And my favorite:
"Idle hands are the Devil's tools."
Eventually I grew up. Now I can linger as long as I want and no one is going to tell me to quit loafing. But I don't.
As I look at middle age in the rear view mirror, I worry that I've forgotten how to stop and smell the roses?LINGER
I love that word.
Today I'm going to do a little of it.
Linger in bed or linger over coffee, or dab on a little perfume and let the smell linger around my desk.
Because I don't want my only lingering to be on my death bed.
I want to experience it right now.
May 6, 2013
Long-Lost Old Friends--Found
by Maggie Sefton
I'm back in Northern VA and Washington, DC "hometown" once again. Spring weather here like Colorado. Chilly & sunny, rain is coming, but the azaleas are already in bloom and they are GORGEOUS! I promise I'll have some photos next week.
I had a wonderful surprise at the Malice Domestic conference last week, Friday thru Sunday. After entering the hotel lobby, I spotted a writer friend I had not seen in years. Karen MacInerney. We were close friends in the early days of 2005--2006 when we both had our first amateur sleuth mysteries published. The first of the Kelly Flynn mysteries, KNIT ONE, KILL TWO, had just come out June 2005, and the first in her Grey Whale Inn mysteries set in Maine had come out. We immediately went to the hotel bar and started talking---catching up. :). It was great to reconnect. I'll invite her as a guest blogger soon so she can update you all on her latest in her successful Bed and Breakfast series set in Maine.
Tomorrow I'm joining my two "sisters" --- Nancy & Diane --- and we'll drive into Washington, DC to see the "DC Design House.". This is an annual event and is wonderful fun for those of us who enjoy decorating and architecture and all thigs house-related. If you watch House and Garden TV, then you'd LOVE visiting the DC Design House. Washington, DC area interior designers & decorators vie for the opportunity to completely redecorate one room each of these older custom-designed houses located in gorgeous prestigious areas of the city. These are large homes so there are a lot of rooms to see. It is SO much fun. We're there for hours, then treat ourselves to a yummy lunch at some great cafe. :)
Do you folks ever watch and enjoy the House and Garden TV channel?
I'm back in Northern VA and Washington, DC "hometown" once again. Spring weather here like Colorado. Chilly & sunny, rain is coming, but the azaleas are already in bloom and they are GORGEOUS! I promise I'll have some photos next week.
I had a wonderful surprise at the Malice Domestic conference last week, Friday thru Sunday. After entering the hotel lobby, I spotted a writer friend I had not seen in years. Karen MacInerney. We were close friends in the early days of 2005--2006 when we both had our first amateur sleuth mysteries published. The first of the Kelly Flynn mysteries, KNIT ONE, KILL TWO, had just come out June 2005, and the first in her Grey Whale Inn mysteries set in Maine had come out. We immediately went to the hotel bar and started talking---catching up. :). It was great to reconnect. I'll invite her as a guest blogger soon so she can update you all on her latest in her successful Bed and Breakfast series set in Maine.
Tomorrow I'm joining my two "sisters" --- Nancy & Diane --- and we'll drive into Washington, DC to see the "DC Design House.". This is an annual event and is wonderful fun for those of us who enjoy decorating and architecture and all thigs house-related. If you watch House and Garden TV, then you'd LOVE visiting the DC Design House. Washington, DC area interior designers & decorators vie for the opportunity to completely redecorate one room each of these older custom-designed houses located in gorgeous prestigious areas of the city. These are large homes so there are a lot of rooms to see. It is SO much fun. We're there for hours, then treat ourselves to a yummy lunch at some great cafe. :)
Do you folks ever watch and enjoy the House and Garden TV channel?
May 5, 2013
Your Vacation: New Adventure or Old Haunt?
by Kate CollinsI have several friends who take their summer vacations at the same small lake in Michigan every year. Another friend goes to Colonial Williamsburg for her vacation each summer. Yet another makes a pilgrimage to Disney World every spring, which she has done since her kids were little. They're now grown and still love to go annually.
Then I have friends whose goal is to see as many new sights as possible. They've been to so many countries, I've lost count. They never tire of adventure and hate going anywhere twice. I envy them. I would love to be a world traveler.
When my husband was alive, we would take an annual cruise to the Greek Islands (his ancestry) but there were always new ports added every year, so we had a mix of old and new. So I guess I'd classify myself as a semi-adventurer. We were always saying that we would try an Alaskan cruise or a Panama Canal cruise next, but then we'd look at our photos of sunny Santorini, the two of us at an outside taverna high on the cliff overlooking the aqua blue sea, eating a thick slice of moussaka and drinking a Mythos beer, smiling from ear to ear -- and we'd sigh wistfully and book another Greek Island cruise. They're great memories. I really miss going there.
What is your favorite kind of vacation? Are you the kind who seeks new adventures or do you revisit the same old haunts? Or are you like me, a semi-adventurer?
