A New Find

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View From My Window

 

My friends and family know how much I love searching for unique finds to decorate my house. There’s something exciting about hunting for the perfect piece to fit in that spot on the wall, on a shelf or in the corner of the living room. I might not even know I need it until it “speaks” to me.

I’ve been doing this forever. Long before anyone ever heard of “shabby chic” or “flea market finds”. You can see me at Garage Sales, Rummage Sales and Estate Sales. Even the city dump. It fulfills my need for retail therapy without breaking the bank, and gives me an interesting story to tell about how it came to be mine.

Today I have a great new piece to showcase. A Royal Quiet Deluxe Portable Typewriter. Only makes sense. A typewriter for a writer. And it had to be a Royal, of course. It looks great on the shelf above my computer and I’ve already incorporated a picture of it into my blog.

What about you? I’m sure there’s something you love to do that is just as rewarding. It could be anything. That’s the beauty. Please share!

 

 

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View From My Window

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Yesterday was a cloudy, rainy spring day. The kind that keeps me indoors. Whenever I can, I’m sitting at the computer, a cup of coffee at my elbow, writing. While deep in thought I happened to glance out the window and realized I had visitors! Even though I missed the best shots, I managed to snap a few pictures. And I can see right now I’m going to have to buy more birdseed.

It’s the little things that count.

View From My Porch

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Bridal wreath bushes (Spirea) are known for their eye-catching beauty, fast growth rate, hardiness and ease of care. My daughter planted a little sprig with roots a few years ago and it’s grown into this beauty.

It sits at the end of my front porch on the other side of my swing. Birds and butterflies swarm the flowers. Makes a lovely backdrop. Imagine me sitting on the porch on a warm afternoon with a glass of tea and a good friend.

It’s the little things that count.

Snippets from my WIP

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mere

 

Mere is an 18 year old girl living in Titusville, a charming little town in east Texas dating back to the Civil War. A tourist attraction with antique malls and quaint boutiques selling handmade linens, soaps and lotions, jellies, jams and syrup.

Titusville is located smack dab in the middle of Ferry Woods. A place filled with pine trees, Spanish moss and creepiness where strange things happen. Mere’s practical side says they’re only stories. But she can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it than that.

Maybe it has something to do with her powers. The ones she’s tried to ignore. All she’s ever wanted to do lead a normal life. Be accepted. Blend in. But that’s an impossible task when you live in a family of witches. And on top of everything that’s been happening lately, she’s not at all sure that’s what she really wants.

View From My Window

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The first thing I do every morning when I wake up is pull back my curtains and open the blinds to see what kind of day lies ahead. Lately, I’ve enjoyed watching the riot of color from the crab apple tree in my front yard. What a lovely way to start the day.

My daughter planted it when she lived here and despite the wind it has managed to survive and give me lots of pleasure. Birds usually nest high up in the tree and I get to watch them visit the feeder I have hanging in the branches.

Sitting at the computer, drinking my first cup of coffee and enjoying life. It’s the little things that count.

Stay Tuned ~ odds and ends from my WIP

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I’m currently working on a young adult fantasy about Mere, an 18 year old girl living in Titusville, a small town in east Texas, located smack dab in the middle of Ferry Woods. It’s filled with pine trees, Spanish moss and creepiness. Strange things happen there. Mere’s practical side says they’re only stories. Yet, she’s drawn to the place.

Mere has spent her life trying to be ordinary. An impossible task in her family. Women in the Borchers’ family are witches. And Mere has powers. Even though she tries to ignore them. But with everything that’s been happening, she’s no longer sure that’s what she wants.

Titusville isn’t real, but it’s based on all the places I’ve been to in that area when visiting family. A perfect setting for a YA fantasy. Old-timers are walking, talking history books filled with all kinds of stories about people living in their community. All you have to do is listen.

Below is the Rio Theater in Center, Texas. I’ve pictured a place like this in my book when Mere and Darcey talk about going to see a show at the Rio.

The Rio Theater in Center, Texas

Signs Of Spring

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Every year about this time I watch for signs that spring is around the corner. One of the first things I notice are the jonquils. You can see these pretty yellow flowers beside farm to market roads all over east Texas. This is the view from my driveway. Isn’t it gorgeous?

Jonquils - signs of spring in east Texas

A view of my house from the road.

Jonquils - signs of spring in east Texas

Bright blue sky with a wisp of clouds, a warm breeze, and gorgeous yellow flowers. These little signs of spring make the drive into town an enjoyable one. Jonquils - Signs of Spring in East Texas

 

~Music to Our Ears~

Daylon's guitar

Music has always had a special place in our family.

 

Our older kids had record players before they could read. I had to draw pictures on the records so they could pick out the ones they wanted to play. By the time the youngest came along, we’d moved up to a Fisher Price tape recorder. Our house was filled with the sounds of Peter and The Wolf, Rudolph the Red nosed Reindeer, The Muppets. Old songs like Pop the Magic Dragon. Popeye the Sailor Man, and every Disney song imaginable.

 

We’ve continued our love of music. Traditional, Classic, Rock, Country. Some of just about everything. It brought our family closer. Drew it together. And still does. Even after all these years.

 

My husband passed away in 2015, but he’s always in our hearts. Whenever we share a new song with each other, someone always says “You know, Dad would like this.”

Christmas Traditions

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020.JPGWhen my husband and I first married, our Christmases were always last minute things. We didn’t plan ahead. We’d brace ourselves, dash out to the mall and be swept up in the melee along with everyone else. We were young and had lots of energy, so we didn’t mind.

The kids came along, and things changed. I quit work and stayed home while they were little, so money was tight. We had to budget money and time, which meant planning ahead. For a few years we wore ourselves and the kids out, dragging them from first one event to another, trying to make sure they visited with both sides of the family, only to end up at home by nightfall, trying to have our Christmas with cranky toddlers who were tired and wanted to go to bed.

We made a conscious decision to change things. We began putting our time with the kids first before anything else. We started our own little traditions like watching a holiday show and having hot chocolate and popcorn, making ornaments or decorating the tree as a family. I bought inexpensive ornaments every year for them to mark the date and put on the tree. We had Christmas books and records we enjoyed.

We moved from the city to a small town. Christmas tree farms were popular. We made it a family thing to go out, cut down the tree and decorate it. For a week before school let out, I put small, inexpensive gifts under the tree every morning as an incentive to get the kids out of bed. “Look what Santa left last night!”

I made caramel corn, and we roasted peanuts. When they got old enough to buy presents, one of them always got my husband chocolate covered cherries and found me a new little Santa for my collection.

What’s funny is that out of all the memories, the ones they seem to hold most dear aren’t necessarily the years where they received the most gifts or got something they really wanted, but the little things we did. And it tells me something. Traditions like that are important. Now they have families of their own and I’m proud to say they have continued the Christmas traditions.

 

Multi-tasking

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cropped-img_0805Not to brag, but I used to be really good at multi-tasking. I could cook a meal, remember to switch the clothes from washer to dryer, talk on the phone, make my grocery list and keep an eye on the kids—and all at the same time.

Not anymore.

These days if I’m cooking I’d better stay in the kitchen unless I want to find myself cleaning up the stove and trying to figure out what I’m going to cook instead of whatever is stuck on the bottom of the saucepan. I’ve spent hours searching for the TV remote, the phone or my glasses because I’ve carried them somewhere they aren’t supposed to be.

Last year I moved for the first time in almost 30 years. I packed nearly everything myself. I kept things organized. Labeled boxes. Even so I found myself spending time searching for things like kitchen utensils, matches, the hammer, the measuring tape. I looked everywhere. The minute I gave up and bought new ones they appeared.

It’s frustrating. I feel like I’ve lost a valuable talent.

Maybe it’s because the older you get, the less you’re called on to use it. The kids are grown, and if the grandkids come for a visit, I don’t waste time doing anything but focusing on them.

There’s just me. That means less laundry, less cooking, less housecleaning. So I don’t have to multi-task any more.

Now if I could just keep up with the remote and the telephone, I’d be happy.