Can you believe the month is gone? It’s a little scary how quickly time marches by.

May wasn’t wonderfully productive for me, word-wise. I was very busy with editing projects, very busy with kids’ end of school activities, getting the pool ready for summer (priorities!), and tons of babysitting for my dd while she was busy doing what she does (she’s that mom who always has tons of kids over for sleepovers/special movie nights/trips to the zoo, etc.). So, yeah, I let myself be a bit distracted from THE WORK.

I spent the first part of the month promoting Stranded: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology. Then I edited and re-released, Gilded Cage.

So, if you haven’t picked up your copies, keep this in mind: For now, both are in Kindle Unlimited, where you can pick them up for FREE!

As for what’s happening in June…

I’m wrapping up a story that will release around the 11th, New Orleans Nights, which is part of the SEALs in Paradise series, which you can check out! The authors in the series are releasing a book every two weeks, so be sure to head over to find out what’s out already! And yes, my story’s going to be HAWT!

Wish I had it on pre-order, but as soon as it’s live, I’ll let you know! Mmmm, I just love that cover.

And before I wrap up the story, my dd and I are headed to New Orleans to soak up some atmosphere. We’re speeding down for a two-day trip. That’s all we can manage with the kids out of school. Her policeman hubby will have his hands full, and she knows the longer she’s away, the more chance there will be of some disaster happening. This week we had to deal with gray water pipes backing up. Ugh. Her hubby’s still dealing with couplings and digging up and burying pipes. My dd set a chair in the back yard next to the ditch he excavated so she could “supervise” and admire his, um, hard work. 🙂

As for the rest of June? I’m hoping to keep my head down and write. And swim. Lots of swimming. We put up tiki torches so we can extend our pool hours. Yeah, I’m a Cancer. Love that water. Which reminds me I have a birthday coming up…

I hope you’re enjoying the start of the season. Get outside! Get in the water. Take a trip—even if it’s only for a couple of days. Read somewhere recently that traveling extends your life. Don’t know about that, but it’s sure fun.

So tell me, do you have any big or small summer plans?

Be warned! This is probably going to be a bit of a ramble. It’s what happens when I get only four hours of sleep and I have to face my computer the next morning.

If you haven’t noticed. Sometimes, I kind of go off on strange tangents with my blogs. I can get bored doing the same-ole thing every day. So, sometimes, I let the first thing that pops into my mind lead the ramble…

This morning, as I was turning on the Keurig, I saw a bloated clear plastic bag on my art table and paused. The bag contained my latest thrift store purchases. And faced with coming to my desk to open up my computer or exploring what I’d purchased inside a stapled plastic “grab bag”, I chose to rip the bag open and dump the contents on my table.

I took the picture without giving it any thought to how it looks…

When my dd takes a picture of my treasure hauls,
it looks like this…

This is what happens when I take the picture…

Ack! Ignore the jumble-box of leftover beads in the upper left corner and the flower pot of pens in the upper right. Those belong there. But look at the horrid mess of junk I purchased, mostly sight unseen for $4.

The stash includes a McCall’s wedding dress pattern (it’s underneath the crap, lower left). Lots of really ugly and dated trim (which I just know will be something I can use in a mixed media journal, uh-huh), ugly fabric scraps, embroidery threat (I didn’t misspell that—I keep promising myself to begin a friendship bracelet, but the thread is too intimidating), a really ugly old-fashioned frog closure/sewing embellishment, a yard of red beaded/bugled trim underneath everything where you can’t see it (that I could use to frame something, maybe), a grody old index card box, a bag of cheap, acrylic loops and a plastic crochet hook to go along with TWO plastic potholder looms…

And its the looms that catch my eye. I remember those! I had one when I was a kid, and I made some really ugly potholders. So, of course, I have to go check Pinterest for “potholder weaving” and OMG. New obsession! After watching my third “How To” video, I went back to my stash, stuffed the crap back into the plastic bag, but left out the two looms and the acrylic loops and realized I can’t start a project because I don’t have the bloody-goddamn metal hooky-thing that you use to drag the loops.

So… I find a company that sells modern potholder looms—lovely metal looms instead of the cheap plastic, but still, the same damn things—and they sell the metal hooky things! I bought one. And then, I noticed they sell COTTON loops, so I purchased two bags of cotton loops in colors my dd will love (so she doesn’t yell at me for buying yet more project junk to add to my craft hoard).

And that’s my blog. Sad, isn’t it? But I did manage to write some words and my fingers are limber. Now, I can start the REAL work. 🙂

I save quotes, quote books, etc. to give me inspiration. When I’m feeling at a low ebb energy or idea-wise, I thumb through them to find something that “fits”.

Here’s one that always makes me smile…

If you have enough fantasies, you’re ready, in the event
that something happens. ~ Sheila Ballantyne

Do you love quotes or daily mantras to get your creativity or gumption going?

Here’s wishing all you moms, stepmoms, foster moms, and even
you babysitting aunties a Happy Mother’s Day!

This will be my shortest post ever because tonight I’m thinking that tomorrow will be a perfect day. I’ll be in the company of my family as we head to the theater to watch Avengers: End Game. I think I’ll dream happy dreams.

Follow your bliss. ~ Joseph Campbell

One thing I love to do to relax is sneak away to a candlelit bubble bath with a good book. I adore soaking in all those glorious scented bubbles while indulging myself in a sexy romance or high-spirited romcom. I even enjoy action/adventure. And if I can’t have a bath, I enjoy curling onto a cushy sofa with a thick throw and warm cup of hot chocolate—unless, of course, it’s summer in which the throw must be ditched and the hot chocolate replaced with a cool Mimosa. Or if I’m feeling exceptionally frisky, I may substitute the mimosa for a cosmopolitan or a good ol’ Southern Hurricane. However, a winddown I recently rediscovered is makeup. Yep, cosmetics. To explain this, I have to recap briefly my high school days.

Like many little girls, I dabbled with glitter makeup and my mother’s lipstick when I was in grammar school. I didn’t try to apply it in any meaningful way until junior high—which actually was the beginning of high school. See, the school I attended consisted of an elementary school from kindergarten to sixth grade and high school from seventh grade to twelfth grade. No distinctions were made for middle school or junior high school. Although to an untrained visitor, the elementary school may have appeared as five buildings, it was actually one structure that expanded one city block and connected in a series of internal and external stairways and underground passages. That may sound bizarre or like an uncanny version of Hogwarts School of Magic, but the explanation is actually unremarkable. The school was built in the 1800s and run by an order of nuns. A section of the school (the convent) housed the nuns. To move around in inclement weather, the nuns used the tunnels to travel from the convent to the main areas of the school. Since the nuns spent much time in meditation and prayer, the tunnels, as well as the inner stairs, allowed for privacy from the public. More importantly, at its inception, the elementary school wasn’t “elementary”. It was an all-girls school for students in kindergarten to twelfth grade.

As you’ve probably guessed, this meant that the high school was the original all-boys school. It was several miles away and not as large, as it did not have a monastery. It was run by priests. When the schools were made coed, they were split into what is now designated the elementary and high schools—well, sort of. The original high school burned and was rebuilt on a different parcel of land, and the original elementary school was sold to the city as a cultural art building when the order nuns moved from the convent. Instead of being a three-story half-block, the new high school was one-story and a quarter of the size of the original. But I digress. (You know how us southerners are.)

My point is, as a tweenie, I was exposed to and traveled in a circle with the high schoolers. We shared the same hallways, bathrooms, classrooms, locker rooms, and teachers. Naturally, I wanted to emulate some of the more popular upperclassmen, who in my preteen mind were gorgeous. I remember when the homecoming queen, who lived up the street from me, visited a neighborhood playground. She never did this, and I don’t know why she did that day. It was a usual humid southern day, and I was seated on the merry-go-round and covered in dust. (Actually, I think the technical term for the equipment was roundabout, but we called it a merry-go-round.) There was a “baseball” game happening at the time. (They called it baseball but they were using both metal and wooden bats with a softball but pitching it like a baseball—playground shenanigans and kids who didn’t know any better.) I was too little (and lousy) to play, and the other kids shooed me away from the game. Honestly, I didn’t blame them, and my feelings weren’t hurt. I’d rather swing or teeter on a todder than embarrass myself striking out or being belittled for not being able to field a ground ball. I’d never had anyone to teach me to play, let alone play using their janky rules. In any case, I was covered in dirt and dust because it had not rained in weeks, and all the grass around the merry-go-round was worn from foot traffic. Anytime I stopped or started the merry-go-round bolls of dust would formulate and engulf me like a sandstorm. I will never forget that on that day I was wearing white sneakers, white shorts, and a white T-shirt (like an idiot). My nails were ragged and my pigtails windblown out of their scrunchies. Then here comes this goddess in a yellow sundress, French manicured nails, Egyptian lace-up sandals, flawless skin with even more flawless makeup, and perfectly sculpted hair. If there ever was a moment that cussing was appropriate, that was it. Read the rest of this entry »

I was up early today. First, my dd messaged to ask if I was dressed. Her hubby forgot his wallet and needed it dropped in town. Now, usually, I’d send her a rude emoji but it’s Easter, and I knew she had to help the bunny deliver goodies, so I ran into town to give my policeman SIL his wallet. *smh*

Then it was back to my dd’s for coffee as we waited for the kids to stir. Everyone awoke to my dd’s hand-decorated buckets filled with edible goodies and gifts. Everyone got things they wanted—the oldest girl got makeup and jewelry and an expensive mixed media sketchpad (she’s a budding artist—how could I, er, the bunny not indulge?), the baby got sidewalk chalk and glitter clay (also, a budding artist, so again, we have to encourage!), and the boy got lots of cologne and shaving stuff (because he’s very vain 🙂 ). We’re spiritual with a mixed bag of beliefs but not religious, so no church morning for us.

Next came the annual photos my dd takes in her yard. She lets the wildflowers take over every year until they go to seed. Her hubby hates them. Calls them weeds. But it’s hard to argue with the butterflies and bees that are attracted to her yard! Not much crimson clover this year, but we do have these pretty purple blooms… Oh, and the kids are darling, too!