Lynn Kellan's Blog, page 6
December 28, 2017
What to do if your brother can read your mind
In 2015, I spent a long afternoon on the computer, pasting my brother’s picture into a mock-up of Time Magazine’s “Person of the Year” cover as a gag gift to him for Christmas. Imagine my shock when I opened my Christmas gift from him: he’d spent a long afternoon pasting my picture into the “Person of the Year” cover.
In 2016, I decided to order a huge blow-up picture of my brother for his Christmas gift. Unfortunately, I’d waited too long to place the order. Imagine my shock when he mentioned that he wanted to order a huge blow-up picture of myself for my Christmas gift, but he’d waited too long to place the order.
This year, I searched high and low to find a unique Christmas gift. I settled upon a T-shirt with a picture of the Periodic Table that read “I wore this T-shirt periodically.” Imagine my shock when I opened my Christmas gift: he purchased the same exact T-shirt for me.
No, we aren’t twins. I’m two years older than my brother. We live in different states. We see each other two or three times a year. We call each other on occasion, particularly when we’ve got a story to share about our kids (who are roughly the same age). Ours isn’t the type of relationship where we’re in constant contact, but if something goes wrong in my life, he’s the first person I want to call. I know he’ll listen, I know he’ll understand me on a level that no one else can, and I know he’ll say what I need to hear. What an incredible gift!
Even though I know he’s going to buy me the same Christmas gift that I’ll get for him, that’s a small price to pay for this strong connection we share.
In case you’re wondering: next year, I’m giving my brother a million dollars for Christmas.
December 13, 2017
Annual Santa Beauty Pageant
It’s December, which means SANTA.
Check out this guy.
He looks jolly, but he’s got weird taste in toys.
This poor soul caught stomach flu last night
and came to work to infect everyone else:
Next, take a look at the Santa
who knows all the words to Jimmy Buffet’s song, Margaritaville:
This next guy looks nice, but I think
he’d better check the expiration dates on his food:
This fellow made me feel naughtier than usual.
Don’t know if that’s good or bad:
This guy insisted he’s the REAL Santa.
I decided not to point out all of the other guys behind him:
I gotta say that this guy caught my fancy.
He brings gifts and fixes the leaky dishwasher.
This man is GOLD, people:
Finally, I present to you the Santa with good manners.
He covers his mouth when he sneezes:
My favorite Santa is #7. He can rock red plaid, shop for gifts,
and fix my leaky sink. Heck, he can probably even braid my hair!
HO HO HO
Which Santa is your favorite?
November 23, 2017
Grateful to feel terrified.
This year, I’m grateful for all the things that terrify me.
I’m particularly grateful for friends who invite me to the library
to read an excerpt of my upcoming release to total strangers.
I’m grateful for a terrifying ride on a massive dune buggy
that rattle my teeth and make photography a huge challenge.
But we did get this shot, so all’s good…and my teeth haven’t fallen out.
I’m grateful for the terrifying prospect of releasing a new book.
It’ll be available, soon, and the cover is gorgeous.
Most of all, though, I’m terrified of being a world without readers…
But that will never happen because of people like you!
November 16, 2017
My secret love affair with a dummy
I went to a restaurant, saw this guy, and wondered if I should talk to him.
Have you seen the movie, BIG?
Do you remember what happened when the boy talked to this guy?
I remembered, yet I handed this guy a dollar bill for my so-called fortune.
The chat didn’t go well. Zoltar said I’d see some very weird things. He was right.
Zoltar also warned me to be careful.
He said I’d meet a man that I wouldn’t be able to resist.
Essentially, Zoltar said I’d step out on my husband, which is outrageous.
I mean, I’d never, EVER, touch another man or be with another man or kiss him.
Er, I can explain.
You see, ah, I’ve been cooped up in my office for months.
I happened to write a letter to Santa, and we hit it off.
We’re just pen-pals, that’s all. I swear!
And, um, here’s a flower.
This post brought to you by Lynn Kellan.
She’s weird.
September 6, 2017
There’s a face in my pancake.
I saw some weird things this summer.
Like big cats in pickup trucks.
And strange joggers in department stores.
And bark faces that weren’t made by my dog.
And my reflection in a pancake.
All of these reasons are why I’m glad summer is over.
Because we’re not going to see anything weird, now.
Until Halloween.
*
This post brought to you by Halloween.
Dude, you’re gonna see lots of weird stuff all September and October.
August 23, 2017
Do empty nesters close the bedroom door?
I haven’t been alone for twenty-one years.
In that time, I’ve had a child with me.
That will change in a few days.
Both kids will go to college.
Far away.
I’m excited for them, and for us.
But waiting for that separation is difficult.
A painful squeeze wraps around my waist like a too-tight invisible belt.
The tension amplifies every time I see a reminder of what’s about to happen.
And there are a lot of reminders around the house.
The waiting is killing me.
I’m the type who prefers to rip a bandaid off, fast.
I want to feel the quick blade of pain and be done with it.
As I wait, I wonder. How will the house feel when they’re gone?
At night, will my husband and I close the bedroom door when no one is around?
What will life be like without these two wonderful creatures in the house, every day?
I don’t know.
Life will be different.
The change will be good.
I’m ready to walk on a new path.
And so are my daughters.
So here’s to new journeys!
Let’s take the unfamiliar road that tests us,
even if we feel a too-tight belt of tension and uncertainty.
Eventually, that belt will loosen and we’ll feel comfortable again.
May 29, 2017
Our build-your-own screened-in porch
We were sick of being eaten alive whenever we sat on our deck.
A screened-in porch sounded like a wonderful way to avoid bugs.
I tracked down a couple of builders for quotes to build a screened-in porch.
Holy cow. Very expensive.
So, my husband and I decided to try a screened-in sun shelter.
We found a nice one at Costco. It’s a Sojag Moreno 10′ x 14′ structure.
It arrived in two boxes.
Above, you’ll see a picture of the biggest box.
We were able to store both boxes in our garage.
When the weather finally warmed up, we got to work.
My husband is a big, strong guy, so he was able to move the heavy stuff.
I wasn’t sure I’d be much of a help to him, but the two of us managed just fine.
The directions were fairly easy to figure out.
First, we put up the rectangular structure.
The roof was a bit tricky, but we found a YouTube video that really helped.
Here we are, almost done. The job took us 3 afternoons to complete.
As you can see, we tackled this in March before the trees leafed out.
Zippered screened fabric came with the Sojag Moreno shelter.
The screened fabric works VERY well. Bugs can’t get in!
Overall, the shelter is both strong and lovely.
Here’s the final result:
We’re really enjoying our bug-free outdoor room…
Just in time for the official start of summer!
February 8, 2017
I squish you means I love you.
This is what happens when I tell my dog, “I love you.”
She looks at me with canine warmth in her gaze.
That’s what Shelties do. They say a whole lot with their eyes.
My brother’s 180 pound Irish Wolfhound expresses love in a different way.
He wants to plant his huuuuge furry butt beside yours and lean ever so gently against you.
Here he is with my nephew, who is over 6 feet tall and looks like a pipsqueak next to the dog.
This Irish Wolfhound always wears his heart on his chest. See?
I hope you’re squished by lots of love this month, too.
Hugs,
Lynn K.
January 25, 2017
Don’t shoot. I’m an author.
Walking is my favorite exercise, but exploring the local trails isn’t for the meek.
Halfway into the walk, you realize the footpaths are rocky and unstable.
The squirrels are nasty little things that throw nuts at you.
And then you see something like this:
The forest goes quiet. You feel a hundred glass lenses pointed at you.
You wonder if the pinpoint of heat on your chest is a laser beam.
A hollow metal click echoes in the chilly air.
Did someone just load a revolver?
“Don’t shoot. I write romance novels.”
A harsh snicker bounces off the frozen trees.
You remember that you have a weapon in your coat pocket.
Slowly, you place your sole means of survival on a log and back away.
The tension dissipates like steam from a tea kettle.
The trees loosen their stiff posture and begin to sway in the breeze.
You hear someone search for a fork in the decrepit barn at the crest of the path.
You pause, not sure you can abandon the scrumptious loaf of lemon zucchini bread.
But then you run like an Olympic sprinter down the trail and stop near an old maple tree.
The zucchini bread is too good to abandon. You turn around and return to the old hollow log.
There are no footprints near the log except the ones I left behind.
The bread is gone.
January 11, 2017
Hello, I’m Julia Child.
In honor of 2017, I’m attempting to do 17 new things.
My first “new thing” was to cook a Julia Child recipe.
I looked for something simple and found her Roasted Chicken recipe.
The list of ingredients included sliced lemons and LOTS of onion, carrots, and celery.
I’m not the fastest chopper in the world, so dicing the vegetables took a while.
Luckily, I had The College Kid at home, who conquered the diced onions.
The assembly of the roast was fairly simple. Le voila:
We popped that bird in the oven and wondered what to serve as a side dish.
Green beans and bacon seemed like a good idea, because bacon.
When the roast chicken emerged from the oven, I felt a huge sense of satisfaction.
The meat tasted divine and the gravy was better than a glass of expensive wine.
And yes, I poured that gravy into a glass and took a gulp. Fantastic!
This recipe required a lot of preparation, but all that work was worth it.
Makes sense, really. The more time we spend on something, the better the result.
A good lesson for the beginning of 2017.
Happy New Year!
Love,
Lynn
