Just the other day I was going through my closet, looking for something. You know how this goes after you hit the age of 50, right? You start looking for one thing and find something else and get so totally sidetracked that you never even remember what it was you were originally looking for, right? So, I was looking for a shoe. I figured it might be in my closet. I may never know, because every time I go to my closet for something.... Anyway, at the back of my closet is a metal lock-box. I don't have a key for it so I hope it never actually gets locked. I don't even know where the box came from but it seems like I've had it forever. The box is stuffed full of the past. There are a few photographs in there, and I can't figure out why they're in there instead of with the other photos in the house, but there they are. There's a copy of my high school newspaper from my freshman year. I know why that's there - that was the year Marty (now my husband) gr...
2018. Ugh. So far, not my favorite year. Yeah, so on New Year's Day I was cleaning up the house in anticipation of the arrival of an out-of-town guest. I took a break for a few minutes and sat down to read the day's Facebook posts. Everyone seemed to be having a great day, the posts were full of optimism, hopes and dreams, prayers and anticipation of this being the year that humanity redeemed itself. All I could really say was that I'd just discovered my pants were on inside-out. I knew at that moment what kind of year this was going to be. Later that day my front-load dryer stopped working. A week later I was running out for FIVE MINUTES to do one last task before calling it a day... and it was like experiencing an instant replay of a day in December of 2013... My left heel hit a patch of mud just outside and the next thing I know I'm on my butt in that patch of mud. With my ankle at an odd angle. And yes, I heard a snap. My beloved husband, Marty w...
Life rarely seems to pause for anything. Unfortunately the lack of pause means a lack of writing, at least that's what it means for me. A year after the completion of my last book - Cast Down - and I still haven't finished the sequel that I genuinely thought I'd have finished within a month or two. We've moved yet again, in case I hadn't mentioned it. Four times in three years. In September of 2013 we moved from a long time residence in East Haven, CT to Blowing Rock, NC. The winter was just too much for us. Temperatures with wind chills of 30 degrees below zero were not what we were looking for when we moved South, so we came down off the mountain to the city of Gastonia, near Charlotte. We didn't realize when we signed the lease that we were living in the 'hood. The gunshots at night, the drug dealers, the crime... it was an interesting year and we rode out the lease but then we had to go. Our next stop was a pretty little mobile home park in King'...
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