Kathryn Elliott's Blog, page 3

Release Day! Adding Lib

It’s a girl!

And she’s on sale starting today through Amazon.com.

  Digital format and select store placement coming December 19, 2014.

“Adding Lib is a warm and humorous story of the trial and tribulations faced by every woman who juggles being a mother, a daughter, a wife, a sister and a friend.  I can’t wait to read the next book to find out what happens with the McGinn’s.”    Andrea O’Day, author of Goodbye Granny Panties

A perfect read for the holiday season! 

Libby O’Rourke has a short fuse. Her mother, Mae, carries a big match. Engulfed in the never-ending life-juggling of suburbia, Libby fails to notice Mae’s emerging dementia symptoms until a kitchen fire puts the problem on the front burner.

Proficient in the art of denial, Mae brushes the shattering diagnosis aside and sets her sights on a matchmaking crusade for her eldest son. After all, if her lucid days are numbered, Mae’s going to make damned sure he makes it down the aisle while she still recognizes the groom.

It’s going to take a razor wit and an iron stomach to handle Mae’s diagnosis. Thankfully, just like her mother, Libby has both.

Visit The Wild Rose Press for more details!

Gone to the Dogs – Volume 3

Hi everyone, Maggie here, Mom is indisposed so I’m handling today’s post.

And by indisposed, I mean Captain Estrogen underestimated the bounce-back capabilities of a 45-year-old body at the gym yesterday. Heavy bag training sounds fun until you’re packing your arthritic joints with enough frozen vegetable medley to feed greater Manhattan – never eat peas at our house, they’ve been in bad places.

Anyhow, since Mom’s in a muscle-relaxer haze, you get me, and I’ve chosen to bend your ear about something we overheard at the dog park. Here’s how it went down:

Husband: My mom’s so lonely; we should get her a dog!

Wife: Oh, she’d love that!

Husband: Think of how much more exercise she would get.  Her physical therapist would be thrilled. A dog is good company; she loves Gizmo! (His randy and CLEARLY intact Boxer – talk about low hanging fruit!)

Wife: Let’s get her one for Christmas, maybe another Boxer! She’ll be so surprised!

Husband: I’ll help train it – Giz was easy and he’s so obedient. (Giz knocked over a bystander and violated a tree stump in the time it took him to finish this sentence.)

OK, let’s break this down like one of those reading comprehension exercises in grammar school. Other than the couple being the result of inbreeding, how many problems can you spot in this conversation? The answer is too many.

Pets are family, not gifts and NEVER surprises. Imagine if your husband/wife/SO surprised you with a new family member under the tree. “Merry Christmas, sweetie! This is Erwin. I met him on the subway selling pennies to his imaginary friend Satan and he’s going to live with us now. He’s almost housebroken! Isn’t that great!”

Yeah, no, and I guarantee that’s exactly how this poor woman will feel when Dumb and Dumber surprise her with a dog.

And when Fido steals the fruitcake and sprints for parts unknown, you can bet Dumb and Dumber won’t stick around for the after effects.  A 3:00AM diarrhea run does not mix well with 80-year-old bionic-hips and snowy sidewalks.

Remember, pets are family, not Fiestaware wrapped and ready for holiday delivery. We start out cute and cuddly…

 But unless you’re prepared for chaos (and lots of love)…

 

Buy a fish. Fish are flushable.

Twitter Is Stranger Than Fiction

In my daily thirty seconds of free time, I Tweet. Not to say I don’t check-in with other social media sites, but I find Twitter gives me the fastest infusion of useless BS – I crave useless BS, 140 characters of titillating nonsense is perfect. Seriously, the cyber-high I get from random stranger’s political rants and celebrity romance speculation makes me appreciate my life’s boredom all the more – thank you swim carpool and orthodontist appointments.

Confession – I’m a Twitter rookie, far from the hashtag black-belts out there trending and tagging like Thorazine deficient lunatics; no, I’m more of a put-off-the-day-job kind of social media surfer, a killing-time-at-DMV since 2011 gal; A-typical Twit-Chick, or so I thought.

Like most, I enjoy posts from friends, authors and actors I follow, and on occasion,  I make a comment. However, last week, Lord save us, I made a terrible mistake.

I read the other comments.

Don’t do that

Ever.

God will kill a puppy.

Understand, the comment-horror stemmed primarily from celebrity-fanatics, rarely are my friends and family lumped in this group – but hey, it happens. We’re an expressive bunch – not potential clients for Nurse Ratched, but still, slightly reactionary.

Fearing a three-alarm blaze, my ingrained Irish Catholic has thus far refrained from lighting devotional candles for the souls of the delusional, confused, bat-shit crazy Tweeters who, for some reason, cannot distinguish truth from fiction.  Being the compassionate soul that I am, I’ve developed an affirmation to help those battling Imaginary Twitter Syndrome (ITS):

I, (State your @ScreenName), have never met, spoken to, gone to the farmer’s market with, had the lovechild of, spent time in jail with, played drums in the band of, been lost at sea with, partied at the beach house of, or been tested for STD’s resulting from a tryst with (State Celebrity @Screen Name).

Repeat as necessary.

Twitter is a fantastic tool; you shouldn’t be, use the power of the Tweet for good. The world needs more positive, more chocolate cake recipes, puppy pictures, more one-liners of fun and frivolity.

Oh yeah…and more @PropertyBrother, the world needs more @PropertyBrother #menwithhammers #impurethoughts #ineedaminutealone.

Half-Triathlon Training Update: I haven’t died. This is progress. #swimslikecat